Urban Legends debunked...Part 1

Girl I got the right temperature for shelter you from the storm

I thought a little dancehall/reggae would get the day off to a bright and funky start...dance 'til your boss comes out to find out what the heck is going on. Then dance until s/he leaves, head shaking in confusion and exasperation. Hooray for Sticking it to The Man!

Random blurbs from the edge of the I.R.C.

So I'm supposed to be writing a chapter for a book on an IRS Circular right now, but one can only deal with the tax code for so long before one starts to lose one's mind. This is more of my classic "any port in a storm" procrastination, and I'm going to milk it for all it's worth.

Thought #1: Madison Avenue has really been phoning it in lately. No one even bothers to try to make commercials that make sense or enlighten or excite anymore. Then you get just the weird, off-the-wall ones, like the new Burger King commercial with it's homage to "Man Food" (aka the "Texas Double Whopper"). In the midst of the parodied "I Am Woman" and the clichéd verbal toss-offs to "chick food", a banner unfurls that says simply :

"Eat This Meat."

WHO thought it was a good idea to have men prancing around in various stages of hair gel, beating their chests and breaking out this flag? Despite its apparent attempt not to, this commercial simply screams "gay". They should have eaten their chick food and liked it.

Thought #2: This allowed me to relive much of my musical youth and thus amused me.

Thought #3: Rob, Jeff, David and Mike had better call me soon or I'm not going to be their friend anymore. Fabian text messaged me yesterday and today, so he's in the clear.

Thought #4: McSorely rocks. He went to San Diego and sent me a shot glass from the Zoo that has a silver facial silhouette of King Kong (or some other large gorilla). I collect shot glasses and this is the first one I have that is black and silver. Big Thumbs Up to McS!

Thought #5: I watched another episode of "The Surreal Life" last night. It was pathetic and boring. I no longer wonder if I've been missing anything.

Thought #6: If you are having a conversation on your cell phone in a public place and it is loud enough for me to know all the details, I am perfectly justified in offering my opinion on the subject at hand. You can't discuss your sex life in the frozen food section of the Food Emporium and then get huffy when I let you know that you shouldn't have slept with him after you broke up with his best friend.

Thought #7: Much like the proliferation of cell phones, the phrase "disrespect" has enjoyed a growth spurt over the past few years the like of which has never been seen. People use the phrase with such abandon that any original purpose and meaning has long been lost. I have to wonder if anyone even knows what truly is disrespectful and what is simply "I don't like what you said, so I'm declaring it disrespectful." And then there are my personal favorites - those who commit or are subject to acts of disrespect all the time and have no clue. They are usually the same people who like to break out with a howl of "DISRESPECTFUL!" at any other given opportunity. Dolts.

Thought #8: No one over the age of 25 should be allowed to use the word "awesome." And no one should ever be allowed to say "whatever" when they can't keep up their end of the conversation. Another annoyance is when people say, "I went to her work" (or any variation thereof). You don't go to someone's "work". Work, in such context, is a verb, not a noun. You can go to someone's office, their place of business or even "where they work", but you absolutely CAN NOT go to someone's work.

Thought #9: Criminals should be subject to extra jail time for stupidity. Items such as hailing a cab as a getaway car after a bank heist, confessing to a bar full of strangers that you killed someone 20 years before or admitting to criminal acts over the telephone should all add a hefty amount of years. If you're going to commit a crime, be smart enough to get away with it. If you aren't...JUST SAY NO.

Thought #10: How come I've NEVER seen triplets? Is the whole multiple-birth thing the brainchild of the liberal media?

Thought #11: I don't care how anti-feminist propaganda she might be, I like Barbie. On the other hand, I don't like that "pink" is the automatic color of choice for anything related to females (cite the "Pretty in Pink" Motorola RAZR made popular for Mother's Day). Gender-specific fascism, if you ask me. The feminist movement should get to work on that and stop worrying about how Barbie is warping the minds of young girls.

Thought #12: I have to go back to work after a ten-month hiatus and I'm NOT HAPPY about it. I've been enjoying being gainfully unemployed (on my dime, kids, not at the expense of your tax dollars).

Thought #13: My peanut, Daphne, turned three on Monday. Here are "Kitten Daphne" and "Daphne the Cat" pictures. Happy Birthday, Princess Girl!








Thought #14: I will be getting a call from one of my co-authors soon and, practically, I should be able to discuss my portion with some small level of intelligence. Ergo, my diatribe needs to end (for now) and I need to get back to decoding the mysteries of section 6662 of the Internal Revenue Code. Be glad it's me and not you.

Peace.

little people, BIG world

I'm going to get a little non-PC, so those of you who might be overly sensitive to such things may want to take a pass on this post. Actually, I shouldn't be called to task for this. I place the blame entirely and squarely where it belongs...on TLC (that'd be The Learning Channel, not Tender Loving Care).

TLC has developed an insatiable need to "educate" the American populace via what might well be considered exploitive and sensationalist tactics. Show me where, for instance, one might consider "The Man with Exploding Arms," "The Girl with Two Faces," "The 1,100 Pound Woman" or "I am My Own Twin" to be purely scientific titles inviting sincere, open and understanding dialogue.

But I digress.

Today's non-P.C. topic revolves around the Roloff family, who (if you've been cruising past TLC) you will know as the family on "Little People, Big World." LPBW being the most sensitive title I've seen in a good long while on TLC.

The Roloff family consists of "little people" Mom and Dad, Sharon and Matt, twins Zach and Jeremy (one of whom is a "little person" and the other, an "average sized" person) and a couple of other "average size" kids who are kind of just along for the ride.

I watched a couple of episodes one day (it being in my nature to check out exploitive TV and all), and discovered that while they are not "just like my family" (as TLC promises), they aren't different enough to justify my attention...aside from the whole dwarf thing, of course.

Father Matt is an overbearing, somewhat obnoxious small man with a narrow mind. All he needs is a wife-beater and some beer and he'd make a damn good redneck. Which is interesting, because as near as I can figure, he comes from normal people (and I actually don't mean that tongue-in-cheek, although both he and his wife are children of "average size" parents). His dad, who appeared in one of the episodes, seemed like a very nice guy.

Matt seems hell-bent on getting Zach (the "little person" twin) to hang out at Little People conventions so that he can meet his future wife (Zach is 15). From the episode blurb I caught earlier, he has been at least somewhat successful in this regard...Zach brought a dwarf girl (yeah, they said it, not me) to the Winter formal at his high school.

I feel sorry for this kid. It's not bad enough he is the twin to a normal sized person (sorry, that whole "average size" thing is too much for me), but he's basically being told that the only life he will ever have is as a a dwarf. What...he can't marry some tall, leggy model like Herve Villechaize and Verne Troyer did? It's not like Zach isn't already an actor of sorts and out in the public eye. I haven't read the TLC fan boards, but I bet there's more than one non-dwarf female in this country who finds him cute. So what's the D, Matt? Don't limit your kid to skim milk just because it's all you drink. Nestle makes strawberry syrup for a reason.

But that whole rant is really an aside. My non-PC issue is "Where are all the little people?" I'm not quite shallow enough to believe that they are all in Hollywood waiting for parts in the remake of "Wizard of Oz" or the next Mike Meyers movie. So where are they? I think I have seen one little person in a business suit waiting for the morning commuter train in my life. I get the whole difficultly of fitting into society and the practical difficulties of working in your typical office space (like how do you press the button for the top floor if you're the only one on the elevator?), but I live in NYC. I find it difficult to believe that there aren't some dwarfs (I recently learned that "dwarves" is only the proper plurality for the mythical creatures) on Wall Street or Madison Avenue or in the Garment or Diamond Districts. Even if they aren't hanging around office buildings, I should at least pass some on the street. But I can count the number of times that has happened on one hand and still have fingers left over. So somebody help me out of the depths of my ignorance (since TLC doesn't seem interested in doing so) and let me know WHERE THE HELL ARE ALL THE DWARFS???

*cough cough

Stand and recognize, people...I have been sick since Sunday night, and I am invoking my right to be pathetic and obnoxious and force people to pretend to feel sorry for me.

In case just being sick isn't good enough, I also had my final exam in International Estate Planning on Tuesday. I was in full throttle suffering at that point, literally falling asleep while sitting upright. So I'm hoping for a "B" instead of the "A" a clear mind would have gotten me. Nothing like trying to create the Mona Lisa out of oatmeal, I always say.

Okay, I'm lying. I've never said that before now. But you can't hold it against me...I'm sick.

I picked up this bug on my way back from Long Island this weekend. I was out there doing the godmother thing for my goddaughter's First Communion. Don't ask me for details on anything except the after-party or the impressive wad of cash the Munchkin racked up. I'm not the slightest bit Catholic and I don't know anything about the rites or rituals other than what I've seen in movies.

But the party was fun.

My goddaughter's family (Mom, Dad, three short people and Grandpa) just moved into a bigger house with a ginormous backyard and a pool. It was too chilly to get into the pool (darn the luck), but it's not like I don't know where they live when the days get warmer. In the meantime I will just have to put up with the indoor pool at Equinox.

Being Irish, they know how to pour a good drink, and I'm blaming that for nodding off at the table during appetizers. Fortunately it wasn't a formal sit-down event (we were hanging out on the back patio and meandering aimlessly about the yard), so only about 10 or 20 people even noticed. No one mentioned me snoring (so I'm hoping I didn't), but I was apparently trying to catch some flies...mouth being hung in the "open" position and all. After I got some much needed snoozing in, I partook of shrimp cocktail, stuffed mushrooms and mozzarella sticks. Yes, I made a complete pig of myself, but it kept me from falling asleep again.

Once it got too cold to sit outside, I moved into the kitchen and whipped out my Int'l Estate Planning notes and did a little studying. I say a little because I can be a very social creature and people kept stopping to talk to me. And I hate to study. So I used the "any port in a storm" defense and had the most interesting conversations with a variety of people.

The Communion Girl spent most of the time running in and out of the house in her pretty white dress until she got bored with that and changed into normal clothes. I figured my godmother duties had pretty much ended when we left the church, so I declined to pursue her other than to take a few pictures. To the best of my knowledge, there is only one picture of the two of us together. She wanted to cut her cake and therefore refused to smile while she was being photographed. So that's the memory she'll have of me when she remembers her special day. Just as well...I caught a glimpse of myself in the full length mirror and realized that photos of me wouldn't have been particularly flattering.

From 9:43 PM until 11:02 PM, I was stuck on the LIRR with recycled air conditioning and plenty of opportunity to encourage creepy crawly bacterium to attack my stressed out immune system. By the time I got to Penn Station, I had a bitchkitty of a sore throat. By the time I woke up the next morning, I had the razors-in-the-throat cough, the mush for brains, the sneezing and itchy nose and the Sad Sack demeanor. I've spent most of the past five days unconscious with my cats lounging with me on the bed (not a sign of love and devotion...they just wanted to make sure I didn't forget to feed them when I woke up). Unfortunately, I am between boyfriends and my mother lives in Westchester, so there was no one to wait on me hand and foot or listen to me whine (thus comes your role in this drama).

I'm actually feeling much better (although I still have the itchy nose and the occasional sneeze), so your obligation to care about me has now officially come to an end. Unless, of course, you have an overwhelming desire to continue to be concerned about my well-being (*cough cough sniffle sniffle). Flowers and cards are always appreciated, but cold, hard cash really helps the ole vim and vitality come back in a rush!

I'm not as cool as Jessica, but I still get stuff for free

Last night it was free passes to a screening of "The Promise". And as much as I hate to be like everyone else, I have to go with "everyone else" on this one...

It was absolutely beautiful.

If you like gorgeous imagery and spectacular pageantry, this is a movie you have to see. It is, no holds barred, the single most visually stunning thing I have ever seen on the big screen.

And for those of you who like a little action with your visual goodness, there is plenty of that, too, starting with the spectacular battle scene and wending its way through the attacks by the mysterious assassin and the Duke and his deadly fan dance (Trust me, it's not nearly as gay as it sounds.)

The storyline is classic...a romantic tale of love, loyalty, ambition and destiny, The Promise marks acclaimed director Chen Kaige’s foray into the martial arts fantasy genre. Richly imagined and breathtakingly realized, the film follows the intertwined fates of a beautiful princess and the three men who fall in love with her: a general, his slave, and a rival Duke. Unbeknownst to the men, the princess made a pact with a goddess in her youth where she forsakes the prospect of true love for The Promise of riches and power. Any man she loves, she will lose, a bargain which has hitherto born no consequence for the princess, as haughty as she is lovely.

But when a slave -- disguised as a mighty general – defends first her honor and then her life with unflinching valor, the princess feels something stir within her for the first time. With the awakening of passion, she realizes with dread what destiny holds for her.

Enslaved to the fate that has befallen them, only the truest love of all can alter the course of their destiny…

Deep, huh?

Oh, and it was sub-titled, which made it extra sexy.

Then there were the feathers. Lots and lots of feathers. Various characters (most notably, Wuhuan, the Duke of the North) were decked out in feathers at every given opportunity. Don't get me wrong...they were lovely, and added dimension to the costuming, but I couldn't help but wonder if I was missing some deeper hidden meaning. I've given it a lot of thought (and checked out the website), and have concluded that they were just there to be pretty.

A big double thumbs up on this one...skip the rental store this weekend and head to the theatre. You'll thank me for it.

P.S. You're welcome.

Wow...

I guess they really DON'T wear underwear with man skirts...