Wednesday, March 31, 2010

Double dog dare ya!

So.  Faux News has an online "Photo Op-inion" series where they challenge readers to contribute Photoshopped images to depict a certain topic.

Today's was 'National Security." And, as you might expect, it was full of sad twat teabag Republican bullshit.  But a couple weren't bad - including this one of Obama as a prize fighter knocking down Ahmadinejad.

So - inspired (and a little bored) - I entered a creation for the next Photo Op-inion topic:  "Congress is not in session this week. How are lawmakers spending their spring break?"

Let's see if they accept and post my entry.  Stay tuned.


P.S.  Rush's lady friend looks like she's about to vomit, right? Totally.

Feedom isn't free!

"And resisance is futle."

Some marvelous person has created a Flickr set of some of the best of our patriotic 'tea-baggers' and their shall we say - creative - signs.  Sit back and enjoy the warm feeling of seeing educated and informed Americans standing up proudly and letting their voices be heard. 

My heart is full.


Created with Admarket's flickrSLiDR.

Brilliant - 27b/6

What I'd seriously like to know is this - how have I not discovered this hysterical man's blog before today?!?

I've been sitting here, alternately howling and crying with laughter.  The story of Darryl and the permission slip is absolutely to die for.  As are many other of his posts. Hysterical, I tell you!

And it totally doesn't hurt that he's easy to look at, too.  :)

Monday, March 29, 2010

Hunger is not an Option

Settle in - this a long one.  Smoke if you got 'em.

I'm going to try to hang up my Snidey-Mac-Sniderson snippiness and cattiness for one post - but you'll forgive me if I slip.  Sometimes I need to slip back into that pearlescent and superior armored shell to avoid the realities of life.

Much like the night was had to walk through Harlem at 1 a.m. - four post-Cirque du Soleil gay men and one highly attractive and underage sister - and I was only able to make it the MTA station because I was able to occasionally hyperventilate into my 3-sided Takashimaya bag which contained a brand new rule book for Mah Jong and the scent of expensive hand cream sticks given to us by the Takashimaya lotion Nazi.

I still have that bag...

But I digress.

See?!?

Last night, we attended a first-of-a-kind event here in town.  It was the first annual Hudson Valley Hunger Banquet - “Hunger is not an Option”.  It was sponsored by twelve organizations that provide food assistance to those in need in the region.

About one hundred people paid $35 a ticket for a meal - but when you arrived, you were handed a number that corresponded to a representative percentage - or Tier - of the world's population and the challenges facing them.

15%:
Tier One - most of us reading this blog, in fact. We don't have to worry about where our food comes from.  We are generally healthy, own our own homes, have cars and some money put away, and we can afford most things we need or want in life.  We eat well, and healthily, for the most part.

35%
Tier Two - This is the percentage of the world that is living on the edge of what we consider 'poverty.'  They may not make enough for welfare or food stamps, but qualify for a free school lunch for their kids - possibly the only complete meal their children will eat in a day.  They are the working poor. They eat hollow, non-nutritive carbohydrates and battle with obesity and poor health based on their diet.

50%
Tier Three - This is 50% of the world today.  People who are unable to eat more than one meal - or less - a day.  The mortality rate is brutal - mothers expect to lose 1 out of every 2 children to starvation of hunger-related diseases.

We met our friends L&D (L sits on the board of one of our favorite local food and soup kitchens, The Queen's Galley) there with our best buddy AerialPJ.  We received our numbers - and they were:
  • AerialPJ - Tier One
  • Me and Brian - Tier Two
  • L&D - Tier Three
The menu for the evening?
  • Tier One - Linen tablecloths draped candelabra-lit tables high in the center of the space.  Table decor glittered and crystal sparkled off of white china plates and silverware.  Dinner would begin with a glass of champagne and a lobster ceviche' and tuna sashimi; followed by a pan-seared foie gras with a sun-dried cherry chutney and a glass of domestic Merlot; followed by fresh, grass-fed and organic barbecued pulled-pork wrapped in bib lettuce with a tomato salsa as garnish - accompanied by a French Cabernet Sauvignon.  Rounding out the meal was a trio of lamb chops in a balsamic reduction with a glass of Chianti - and dinner then concluded with a mango, coconut ice cream and rosemary (I swear) parfait with two cookie sticks for garnish, accompanied by a glass of Port.

  • Tier Two - Seated at long, unadorned folding tables on folding chairs, diners would receive a styrofoam container and plastic cutlery, served by food service people in hairnets and plastic gloves.  Their "City of Kingston public school approved" meal consisted of "chicken nuggets" which contain 37 ingredients besides chicken in them (they had to outsource them because nobody carries anything that vile nearby), canned corn, a container of chocolate milk (the only real 'protein' in the meal) and a small plastic container of fruit Jell-o.

  • Tier Three - This group was seated on the outer perimeters of the space, which were noticeably colder and less well lit.  This group would line up - queue up- and be served a waxed paper container of a cup of white rice, a slice of plain white bread, and a paper cup of water.
But before this all began, the speakers all took turns talking about the event and about the organizations who would benefit.  The coordinator of the event and, I am happy to say, a friend - Diane Reeder - who is also our Uptown Kingston Farmer's Market manager (hint:  you can see L&D if you go to the vendors page and scroll down to the letter 'J' - I'm just sayin') and runs The Queen's Galley was a key speaker.

We LOVE Diane (pictured).

Then the event officially kicked off and - much to everyone's surprise - we were told not to get too comfortable in our seats..

The presenters then recounted six or so different scenarios - scenarios in which, perhaps, some rich enterpreneur lost everything and became homeless - the Tier One holder of this ticket was then moved to Tier Three.  Or a woman in Tier Three won the lottery and was moved to Tier One - but then - oh dear - she blew it all - and was moved back.

By the end, it was feeling a little mean and nasty.  But you knew there was a point.

Then two final numbers were picked.

Mine was one.  Another was an elderly woman from my Tier Two table.

We were twins (LOL) whose parents came as emigrants and worked hard and saved and put us through college and - eventually - we were so successful that we were moved to Tier One.

Well - I was horrified to be leaving Brian behind.  AerialPJ sat at his Tier One table clapping and grinning at me like I was Miss America or somethin' (we're terrible together in public).

But damn, I was happy to know I was going to get something good to eat.

Dinner service began.  Tier One was served first (of course) and waiters and waitresses in gleaming white shirts and black slacks attended to our every need.  At my table to my left was a man about my age - mid forties, a woman in her early to mid thirties across from me, a very cute and stocky little lesbian (yay!) to the right, a girl of about 14 in braces to my immediate left and another girl - perhaps 12-13 years of age - to my right.

The atmosphere was pleasant, the champagne delicious.  And the food - well, the lobster ceviche didn't have a chance.

Now - this is where it became interesting.  Tiers Two and Three were still sitting - unfed - as we were dining and drinking our champagne.  We were lit by five-armed candelabras in the center of the room while our families and friends sat in near or total darkness around us.

I waved to those I could see - but my back was to Brian and every time I turned around, he was engaged in conversation with his table mates

I really started to feel uncomfortable. Like I was an item on display - but not to please people.  To remind them of what they don't have.

The lobster ceviche and tuna sashimi finished, my wine glass was filled with red wine and the foie gras was served.  By this time, our table was engaged in conversation with each other.  I had to explain what foie gras was to the table - much to the horror of the two teenagers.  And I assured them that, while the news may say otherwise - I was certain this was 'humanely grown' foie gras and that little geese were not being force fed through a tube down their throat until the became too fat to live.

And then it happened.  Someone in Tier One went and shared their food with someone in a lower tier.

About that time, Diane began to wander the room with a microphone, interviewing the Tier One diners.  I heard AerialPJ talk about his food and make some silly remark.  And then Diane began to talk to people who had shared their food with others.

I was mortified.  With his shellfish allergy, the lobster ceviche - had I shared it with Brian - would have resulted in my widower-hood and, as we like to jest, AerialPJ running up the hill with a wedding veil and a bouquet.

But foie gras?  Brian BREATHES pate and foie gras when it's available.  He'd huff it if he could.  He could  absorb it through his SKIN he likes it that much (although not so much since the force-feeding thing became known - he also shuns veal).

And did I share it with him?  Not a bite.

Next moment - Diane is standing next to me with microphone, a spotlight on me.

"How's dinner?" she asked.

"Oh it's great,"I replied," but you know you shouldn't ask AerialPJ anything in public - you know what he's like."  (squirming in my chair)

"Did you share any of your food?"

"No."  (Big smile.)

"Did it cross your mind?"

"Not really." (Best Jerry Lewis shit-eating grin possible, sweating profusely)

Then I said something witty and clever, as I am wont to do when cornered - funny or scandalous enough that Diane had to shut off her microphone because she was laughing into her hands and making those "You rascal" looks at me.

I felt like shit.  I can't even remember what I said.

Diane then moved on to another table.

It was about this time that I realized that the 12-13 year old to my right - OMG - was named "Destinyee" according to her name tag (we managed to avoid those somehow - thank God). Oh, poor girl.  Destinyee.

And she white.

Honestly - what were her parents thinking?

That's like white women named Juanita.  WTF? Come on.

Anyway - I was asked about the pulled pork dish as it was served and, as I addressed the table as the apparent in-house food expert (come on - watch Top Chef - it ain't hard), I noticed that Destinyee was playing "Rock Star" on her phone - earplugs in - totally tuning us out.

Other children her age were taking the stage and reading long, EXHAUSTIVE papers they had written on the inequity of food and eating around the globe.  And Destinyee is playing Rock Star in a Tier One seat.

I sank a little lower.

I will divert for a moment to say that I did try to connect - gays, back me up here - with my one chance to enjoy this meal.  The lesbian.  I thought that if I could possibly make the "we go to the same church" connection, this might not end in misery.

After all - the subsequent course had arrived.  The pulled pork.  Was I in a position to share?  Absolutely.  Could I share with Brian?  Absolutely - except....he hates smoked meats.  F*ck.  L & D?  Absolutely not - Jewish.  And not orthodox or anything hard line - they just didn't eat pork as a matter of course. You don't grow up with it - you don't know.  Case closed.

Anyway, the table lesbian is missing all the shots - even the easy ones.  "My partner is over there....my oh my - HE will be so sore that I didn't at least TRY to share with him..."  "It's going to be a long car ride home with HIM."

Total and absolute FAIL.  I felt like I was in a Warner Brothers cartoon and the lesbian was the big motionless sheepdog and I was Wile E Coyote frantically banging him on the head with the plastic clown hammer that makes a quacking sound.

Bad lesbian.

By the time the lamb came around,  I was miserable.  Some long-winded nobody lady from the Food Channel was blathering on and on - having obviously never attended a Toastmasters session.  It was blah blah blah - and just when you thought...no - she said something else and then she talked and talked and --oh wait - no - damn.  Still talking....

I crept over to Brian with my tiny lamb chops and was shunned - "Shhh!  I am TRYING TO PAY ATTENTION!"

Little did I know that this was in militant response - not to me - but to the Tier One table immediately adjacent to him that YAKKED and YAKKED loudly -- oblivious to anyone else's feelings through the boring Food Network lady's 20 minute speech.  (During which, I am sure, many of our Tier Three folks expired. Or left)

I retreated with my lamb chops and ate them, glaring at Destinyee for depriving a person of that seat.

At some point, AerialPJ appeared and said "Let's wave to the poor people!"  I hushed him while trying to suppress a giggle (I TOLD you were BAD in public) and then found out he had shared food with D's friend Jim - someone neither of us knew and that L&D had passed on the rice, bread and water course.

"We're going to have to buy everyone dinner, you know?" I said.

"Yup - we are."

"Cut the 'poor people' shit, okay?"

Salvation and dessert finally came and I immediately grabbed both the parfait and the port and dashed over to Brian.  He sampled both and informed me that the 'approved' school lunch was so disgusting he couldn't eat a bite of it.

We left shortly thereafter - a little quiet and little humbled.  Especially me.

It was awkward and horrible - sitting on a stage feeling that 85% of those around you can't have what you have.

I went into the event with my calloused, fabulous 'cocktail lifestyle' 401K-based (two of them!) image intact - and came out less sure about things.

So now - I'll admit that:
  1. I'm a checkbook philanthropist.  My heart breaks during phone commercials.  I can't picture myself crying all over food trays in a soup kitchen or on the doorstep of a house-bound AIDS patient. How insulting and useless would that be?  But I can continue to be a force for good with my contributions.

  2. I will likely think twice before saying that the Dollar Store/Dollar Tree/Dollar Fort "smells of stale cigarettes, spoiled milk, poverty and shame" but NO PROMISES -- because there are some GROSS mutha-f*cking people out there.  (mentally slaps own hand)

  3. I will definitely think more when I make a meal about the waste and about where my food comes from.

  4. At the Farmer's Market this year, I will attempt to identify those with food stamps and farmers market subsidy coupons and make an extra effort to recognize them and make them feel welcome.

  5. I've had an eye-opening experience.  And as shallow acting as I can be - and am - this event made me think and feel and think again about my role here on Earth.
And remember.  Hunger should never be an option.

Saturday, March 27, 2010

Chatrou-what?

I don't know how many of you have discovered the Chatroulette phenomenon - I'll confess to being slightly wary of meeting random strangers on the Internet and opening myself up to a variety of ...um...behaviors.

However, I have discovered a brilliant tumblr. site called CHATROULOLZ.  Absolutely brilliant.

Contributors submit screen captures from the Chatroulette sessions - most are hysterical, many are quite disturbing and some are just downright gross.And much of the site is totally NSFW.

I personally enjoy the reaction shots - and there are some great ones!

If you have some time to kill, an open mind and a strong stomach - check it out. 

Friday, March 26, 2010

Cream of Wheat was never so gay

THIS
IS
FABULOUS

Friday Funny (but sadly true)

But where's Naomi Watts?

I love this -young Japanese girl lurks in the lobby of an apartment building, scaring the bejeesus out of people, "The Ring"-style.  The reactions are hysterical.

Unfortunately, she gets pwned in the end.

But for me, just two words:  New Bestie!

Wednesday, March 24, 2010

An interesting position

As much as I basically ignore Thomas Friedman as a pompous know-it-all, I embrace his idea of a radical center.

See what you think.

And today's big f*cking surprise...

From the Albany Times Union:

"A new Quinnipiac poll gives a sense of who makes up the Tea Party movement, and finds that they’re overwhelmingly Republican or GOP-leaning, includes a slightly greater number of women than men, and is whiter than the average crowd at a curling competition."

Um.

DUR!

Tuesday, March 23, 2010

Dog Day Afternoon

Well - it was a gorgeous weekend in the Mid Hudson Valley - sunny, breezy and hovering around 70 degrees.

We were both outside enjoying the weather and marveling at the abundance of blooming things that are making themselves known.  And considering Brian planted a couple thousand bulbs last fall, it's gonna get very pretty here before all is said and done.
But one of the greatest discoveries was seeing just how much our newest pup, Lucy, is doing.  It's been just a month since we rescued her - and she was red and raw from a massive skin infection and poor diet.

Now, she's bristling all over with new peach fuzz and starting to  put on some weight.


The other girls are starting to warm up to her.  Edina - Eddie - is pretty comfortable with her, but then - she's everybody's little buddy.

Patsy and Sophie are less impressed.  Patsy is till trying to be dominant while Sophie chooses just to ignore her for the time being.  We have little snapping and growling matches every once in a while, but hey - that's what dogs do.  We've only had to do one patch job so far when Sophie got a little too much in Lucy's face.

Brian's new fountain (in progress) is the most popular destination for all of our girls.


Except for Eddie - Eddie likes dirt.

Eddie is our special dog.



We hope it's Spring-y where you are and that you are enjoying its abundance!

Post-it Confessions

Monday, March 15, 2010

What an American hero looks like

Will Phillips accepts the award for Outstanding TV Journalism Segment at the 21st Annual GLAAD Media Awards in New York on March 13, 2010.

Will  - from Arkansas, for heaven's sake - first came to the world's attention at the age of 10 because he refused to say the pledge of allegiance in school because he felt that while gays and lesbians are denied the same rights and privilege as straight couples, all people are not being treated equally.

Will has a hard road ahead because of his views and his age - but damn, if I had Will as my child, I'd be the proudest parent in the whole wide world.  Not just because of his stance - but because of his obvious intelligence, heart and conviction.  Congratulations, Will!!!

P.S. You can see how proud his parents are of him.  Damn right!!!

Wednesday, March 10, 2010

Post-it Confessions


I think I'd rather have leprosy, thanks.

or dental surgery.

Scientific miracle!

"Human anus writes opinion piece for New York Times"









Miss me yet?

Nope.  Just reloading.

Friday, March 05, 2010

In a monochrome mood

 
This image sums up my work week...and pretty much my childhood.

As intriguing as it is to see how advanced the special effects in Metropolis were, I confess to being mesmerized by just how unflattering that man's pants are. I mean, wow.

This would totally be a member of my family. 
It's probably my great great grandmother.
All she's missing is a bottle of gin.

Okay - let's be honest here. 
Who WOULDN'T totally race a monkey??
I'd hate to have to clean out the cars, though.

Monkey racing is essentially the gateway drug to monkey air shows, which are really stupid and boring.

 From the skirt vs the top vs the wallpaper, there is so much wrong with this photograph that one hardly notices that Alice is about to leave the house with a human elevator-down-button. 
I mean, what the fresh hell is that!?

In life's motor camp, I'm the hefty lady who can never remember where the latrines are located.  
Lumbering, lumbering....

 Ok, girl...
Spectator pumps with that bag?
Really?

A. Probably another relative
B. My life's ambition            
C. Tea at J. Edgar Hoover's  
D.  All of the above              


Have a fantastic weekend, everyone!

All photos except the spectator pumps one I added later over cocktails are courtesy of Black and WTF

P.S.  If you wear Ed Hardy, you are a douche.  You need to know this.

Tuesday, March 02, 2010