February 20, 2007

I'm In The Afternoon of Anna Nicole Smith.

I have gone past my period of mourning and am now into afternoon over Anna Nicole Smith. I realized that I could not make a convincing argument that I was the father of her daughter. Too bad. I also have not been able to place any of my sperm-toting buddies in the same room with her at any point of time to claim they are the father.

It does seem a damn shame this was never a "Jerry Springer" nor "Maury Povich" episode ‘cuz I love a good paternity fight. Think about it! It would have been great to see Zsa Zsa up there crying, with mascara rolling down her face, while Prince Zsa Zsa claimed the baby as his love child. Oh, and let’s not forget good ole Howard K Stern. I figured he would be picking up a chair and throwing it at the ex-boyfriend calling him a liar. The whole time Anna would be attempting to say something that did not sound like "mumbled ramblings." Too bad!

Every time I see Jerry or Maury have a good ole paternity fight I have to chuckle. I mean loosing track of who you slept with at the same time as getting pregnant has got to be embarrassing, especially when the 3-4 guys that "have to be" the father turn out not to be. Oops, my bad. Guess it was the 6th guy (condoms might be a good idea at this point).

I know sex is fun, but Ladies, have some self respect. A little spermicide with a rubber policeman (to serve and protect) goes a looooooonnnng way. If you do not like that idea, then keeping a calendar of who you banged, and when, could be. This might just help keep track of the papa to be.

I also wonder why a guy would ever trust a woman in the pregnancy department anyway. I wouldn’t, and I am a woman. Hell, your clock is ticking; the eggs are running out, you think you are becoming an old hag that no one loves - What will fix that??? Oh, a baby will! Remember guys, there are actually girls out there that will advise their friends to get pregnant to trap the guy. Breaking news, this is not an old wive’s tale, it actually happens (seen it, heard it, witnessed it)! Tell ya one thing: NEVER TRUST A WOMAN. Unless of course she is a millionaire, then who cares if you knock her up….she will either pay for your silence or pay you to play daddy. Can’t lose there, can you?

Now, boys, if you’re the millionaire you can guarantee a baby is coming out of that deal. Holy crap! That is the jackpot, you will definitely pay for her silence or, …wait, ...there is no other option, you WILL pay for her silence. As you can tell I am on the boy's side of this argument, mostly because I am tired of idiots reproducing. The world is screwed up with most of us in it, why do we think making a contribution of our genes will make it better? Please, there should be a screening process. Idiots get fixed (hey, if it is okay for dogs why not people?) and non-idiots are paired up with another non-idiots to make them babies.

Now wait, I do have to take a moment and feel bad for the baby girl of Anna Nicole, Dannielynn. She did not ask to be born to the fucked up situation, although some words of encouragement for her…. it could be worse, Mommy could be Britney Spears! Hmmm, do I see Britney filling the void Anna left behind! Hell yes, and I cannot wait to see and read more.

See Ya!
Trash

Posted by Trash at 7:48 PM | Comments (0)

January 22, 2007

The Doomsday Clock, Simon Cowell is the Only One Who Cares, and My Demon Dog.

Last week, in a nutshell, wasn't too bad.

First there was news of the Doomsday Clock moving 5 minutes before midnight. Now at first I was a little concerned, I mean this clock is counting down to the end of the world - shouldn't we all be stockpiling food and water? This has to be as bad as Y2K, right? Well isn't it? Oh wait; I have no idea what the hell the Doomsday Clock is! Apparently I live under a rock because this is a very important turn of events. After a quick search on the information superhighway all is revealed. I found out that I don't know anything about this clock because I missed every issue of the Bulletin of the Atomic Scientists, since 1947. Whew! I was really worried. Somehow that information was missing among global warming, WMD's and Britney Spears not wearing underwear while out partying. Which makes me wonder why in the world are a bunch of geeks changing time on a clip-art clock every time they decide some nuclear threat has changed (did I mention it is an arbitrary decision). Oh I know! They are "experts." Need I say more......?

Then there is the start of American Idol. Now I must admit I do not care for the actual competition, I like to see the auditions. I mean come on; can you believe there are people who don't realize they suck as bad as they do? I love the contestants that go up there, sing like goats being tortured, and cry when Simon tells them the truth. How is it possible that people can go through life actually thinking they have the best voice on the planet? Do all of their friends and families actually think they are good? Aren't they supposed to love ya, or at least want to protect the family name? It is mind-boggling. From what I can tell the only person who actually loves these people (or humanity) is Simon. Hell, he will actually look you in the face and tell you the truth. There should be less bashing of Simon and more bashing of the uncaring family members who would rather you be publicly humiliated then tell you, in private, that you can't sing.

To round off my week I successfully took my demon dog to the vet. Now you have to experience my demon dog to truly understand the success of this event. My demon will bite just about anyone, at anytime, because you only thought about touching her (I have scars to prove it). Now since her demonic behavior did not appear until I had her for over 2 years, I couldn't get rid of her because, well, she was my demon dog. So, after extensive training and Prozac (for me and the dog), I have been able to control most of her anger issues. This last one was a stress free trip to the vet (for me not her). Face it, what dog wants needles and fingers stuck in their butt? Usually this trip consists of a few sedatives and three to four vet assistances holding her still. This time, after five minutes and only three angry snaps at my hands, I was able to get a muzzle on her. This was then followed by a calm, quiet, sober dog taking a shot in her butt, and allowing fingers up her butt, without so much as a whimper. Could this mean the exorcism worked? Only time will tell.

See Ya!
Trash

Posted by Trash at 7:57 PM | Comments (1)