Random Pop Culture A Go Go

I can't think of something I want to write an entire entry about it. Since Yvonne is a feckless whore, it is up to me to keep this blog going at the moment. (Just kidding, Vonners. I love you. Please don't cut me in my sleep. Again.) Anyway. So here is a random sampling of things that I want to comment on.re

1. The White Sox traded Neal Cotts. To the Cubs. I cannot tell you how dramatically upset this made me. I know Neal Cotts is not the greatest pitcher ever, but he is excruciatingly hot, OK? He made love to the camera in all post-game interviews and Yvonne and I nicknamed him the hotness. What can I possibly do with the T-shirt that she made me with his picture on it and "The Hotness" written underneath? Sad.

2. The news about Neal made me wonder if good old Carl Everett is still refusing to acknowledge the existence of dinosaurs. I am pretty sure he is, considering he once said ""The Bible never says anything about dinosaurs. You can't say there were dinosaurs when you never saw them. Someone actually saw Adam and Eve. No one ever saw a Tyrannosaurus rex."

What about dinosaur bones?

"Made by man," he says.

Dude. Carl Everett is fucking insane. That's kind of awesome though. I mean, at least he's original.

3. O.J. Simpson. As everyone now knows, OJ has written a book called If I Did It about how he would have killed Nicole Brown Simpson and Ron Goldman, if he had done so, which he did not, of course. (Pfft.) Who the hell is greenlighting this shite? Who was like, this is a fabulous idea that the American reading public will gobble up with a spoon, and have absolutely no misgivings about swallowing? Seriously? Who are these people? (I know, HarperCollins). I am clearly more qualified to be running a publishing house than they are.

4. South Africa has passed a law allowing gay marriage. Is anyone else extremely embarrassed that a country which, until relatively recently, THOUGHT APARTHEID WAS A GOOD IDEA, is more progressive on this issue than America? I know there are other factors at play but nonetheless ... embarrassing.

5. Veronica Mars is still the best show on television. It is not as good as it was the first season, but it still is awesome. I highly recommend watching it, and not just because thus far Veronica has shown to own TWO jackets that I currently also own (bought before I saw them on the show, so it means I am cool rather than pathetic.) Even though Chris Lowell appears to not so much have a neck, it is still much better than anything else. Heroes is good as well, but I just figured out that you can only watch the most recent episode on NBC. I am three behind so I guess I am out of luck. Friday Night Lights was also awesome but I stopped watching that too.

6. Ugly people. Sometimes I feel bad for actors hired to portray the ugly friend on shows. It must be disheartening, to have your agent call you and be like "Hey, so they need someone to play a fat, homely eccentric!! You're a shoe-in!!"I guess the actors just want to work and probably own mirrors, but still. Sad. Maybe I empathize because I know I would always be playing the ugly friend if I were a working actor.

7. This entry. It really sucks. I'm sorry. I have no original ideas at the moment that I feel like pursuing. The next one will be better.

Evil Clowns Need Love, Too

Wow. So, the majority of my life has been spent in fear of clowns. I know, so cliche, right? I have original fears as well. For instance, I am deeply afraid whenever I am walking under a tree that a squirrel will suddenly jump down from the branches, land on my shoulder, and eat my face. So you know, I am unique.

Moving on. This photograph. So wrong in so many ways. The model's coy smile and wry acceptance of the gloved hand of that spooky clown? That's just not right. She looks like a Wakefield twin, but that, my friends is no Todd Wilkins or Ken Matthews or Bruce Patman. Not even Winston Eggbert, the class clown, went so far as to don the full regalia.

This picture looks like the cover of a junior Harlequin romance novel of some kind. Or perhaps one of those Lurlene McDaniels books where the protagonist or her boyfriend was always dying of cancer or something. A passage from which might look like this:

Page 2

Janet knew what all of her friends thought of Bobo, her new boyfriend. "They think Bobo is creepy, but they just don't understand him," Janet though to herself. "Bobo is so sweet, and tender. He puts so much time and effort into his clothing when he comes to take me out. There is enough starch in that Edwardian-style clown collar of his to poke my eye out, but Bobo would never let that happen, because he loves me. Plus, he's going to die soon from that terrible case of diabetes that went undiagnosed for so long. Oh god, it's so tragic."

Page 25

Janet thought Bobo was being awfully selfish and demanding of her time. "I know Bobo loves me, but why does he insist on constantly stroking my face with his creepy muslin-clad hands and forcing me to draw on his smile? I love spending time with him but I think we have been together long enough that he should let me see his actual facial expressions. And his actual feet. I'm getting a little creeped out. But I know Bobo loves me. Plus, he's going to die soon from that terrible case of diabetes that went undiagnosed for so long. Oh god, it's so tragic."

Page 68

Dear Diary: Bobo and I went to the circus today. I thought it would be a fun activity, and something we could do with his friends, because all my friends think he's weird. Well, I think they do anyway. I mean, I don't see how Lisa could have meant "Bobo is a grease-painted servant of the devil," in a flattering way. But Bobo's friends were a bit much for me. I mean, would it kill his friend Weeping Willie to crack a smile once in a while? And Bobo didn't even pay any attention to me during the show. He just kept muttering to himself and it was really rather disturbing. But he did let me smash a pie in his face afterward. Plus, he's going to die soon from that terrible case of diabetes that went undiagnosed for so long. Oh god, it's so tragic."

Page 126

Janet decided the time had come for her and Bobo to part ways. She still loved him, but she could not deal with the social alienation. She donned ber best stonewashed jeans, orange-short sleeved turtleneck and white leather belt to break the news. Shaking a bit in her T-strap flats, Janet tried to spurn Bobo's advances. "C'mon baby ... you know it drives me wild when you wear pigtails with scrunchies and use your sunglasses as a headband. Stop teasing me, you devil-woman. I demand you stop being a saucy temptress of delight! My pancreas does not manufacture insulin. You know I cannot handle so much sweetness."

"Bobo, look," Janet said tentatively. "You know I love you ... but I don't think I can do this anymore."

Bobo is stunned. Crestfallen, he begs Janet to reconsider. But she stands firm.

"Bobo, you might not care about being a social pariah, but I do! I lost the homecoming queen elections, none of my friends will talk to me anymore, and your makeup makes me break out. I just can't do this anymore. Plus, you're going to die soon from that terrible case of diabetes that went undiagnosed for so long. Oh god, it's so tragic."

page 154

Bobo dies from that terrible case of diabetes that went undiagnosed for so long, alone and unloved. Oh god, it's so tragic. Janet and five of her friends learn to ride unicycles and serve as pallbearers, bearing Bobo's coffin between them as they ride down the streets, dousing passersby with seltzer water and pie.