Selfish Mom

Randomosity

Sep 8, 2008 Randomosity

This is what’s been floating around in my head for the past week. I need to clear it out to make room for more.

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Jon Stewart’s funniest line from The Daily Show’s week in Denver at the Democratic convention, following clips of dems speaking respectfully of McCain, calling him a hero, a friend, and a good man:

Shit on him! Without reservation!  Without qualification!  What are you doing?  May I offer you a sentence you will not hear at the Republican Convention: Barack Obama is heroic and American.

It’s funny because it’s true.  The next week, there was so much Obama bashing I thought I was watching the least-funny roast in history.

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Every year I look forward to reading the winning entry in the Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest (yes, I’m a geek).  This is the contest where you try to write the worst opening line to a non-existent work of fiction.  This year’s winner is doubly delicious, since it is set in NYC:

Theirs was a New York love, a checkered taxi ride burning rubber, and like the city their passion was open 24/7, steam rising from their bodies like slick streets exhaling warm, moist, white breath through manhole covers stamped “Forged by DeLaney Bros., Piscataway, N.J.”

You can read the rest of the best of the worst here.

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There’s a hilarious article on Cracked titled The Eight Most Obnoxious Internet Commenters.  I’m sorry to say I’ve been guilty of being several of those at one time or another.  I’m not going to tell you which, but anyone who knows me well will have no problem figuring it out.

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It’s September.  School is in session.  I’m ready for the weather to get pleasant.  Instead, I am dripping with sweat.  I should not have to put sunscreen on the kids before school.  I should not have to shower after taking the subway.  It seems more and more like we go directly from steamy hot summer weather to freezing glove-and-hat weather.  I want fall!

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A name has finally been put to those douchebags who obsess over every morsel of food that goes into their mouths, making sure that it is raw, or pure, or not imbued with fear (I’m not kidding): orthorexics.  This article on ABCNews.com, Orthorexia: Obsessing Over Health Food talks about those weird people who take health food to such extremes that they cause their bodies irreparable damage.  Not to mention the fact that people who eat real food think orthorexics are condescending jerks.

I don’t think I know any true orthorexics, but I do frequently come into contact with a bunch of holier-than-thou vegans and other crazies who are missing out on all sorts of delicious delights.  I’ll call them orthorexettes.  I could absolutely do with eating a bit healthier, but if I want to bring my famous taco dip to a party, I definitely don’t want a mini-lecture about what the dairy is doing to my body.  If you need to jerk off by way of your macrobiotic diet, so be it.  Don’t eat the taco dip.  But shut up about it.

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I can’t get that fucking Optimum Triple Play commercial out of my head.  Anyone who lives in NYC knows exactly the one I’m talking about.  The one with the Latino gangster-looking guy and the three hot women.  Sure, there are plenty of annoying commercials out there, but this one is different: it’s impossible to tune out.  And after hearing it, it stays in my head for hours.

It’s been running for a really really long time, and they keep expanding it, so it must be popular.  I’d like to meet the people who like that commercial and slap them silly.

But here’s the thing: I don’t know my husband’s work #, and yet if I needed to call for Optimum cable, I’d be able to rattle their number off no problem.  Surely that’s a sign of a good commercial.  So I’m confused: does the commercial suck because I hate hearing it, or is it the best commercial ever because it causes me to not only remember the product, but the phone #?

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Originally posted on Selfish Mom

Tags: Bulwer-Lytton Fiction Contest, John McCain, Jon Stewart