Saturday, March 31, 2012
.jpg)
It's Over, Man!
But, why bother when Olbermann's exit is simply another indication that the guy is hell to work with/for/be around? I once adored the man. Loved his use of the English Language unlike most of his peers; the fiery attitude of righteous indignation whenever a loud and intelligent voice was needed regarding a political/cultural situation.
I liked his ties. Something he apparently didn't. After a few months on his Current TV mash-up, suddenly Keith dropped the debonair and adopted an "I don't care" by going tie-less with the basic loose-at-the-neck open-collar shirt. I don't care for that look on news anchors/hosts. If a guy is going to wear a suit jacket with a shirt that has a collar, then put the tie on. Or wear a crew neck sweater or shirt...otherwise, to me it looks sloppy and Keith didn't pull it off.
Not only did the "look" not work, but nor did his show. As a dedicated viewer of his former program on MSNBC, I could barely sit through an entire segment of his new "Countdown..." when he re-emerged from temporary obscurity (despite his Twitterings). I was not alone. The ratings were terrible.
So, now Mr. Olbermann has made another TV exec angry - perhaps an entire channel of people, actually - and has thundered away once more into what may become a longer-than-usual purgatory.
I wish I could say "Farewell" in a hopeful tone, anticipating his next appearance on the air, somewhere, but not now. Something never clicked for me and thousands-millions of others with his latest incarnation.
Therefore, in finally writing more than I expected from myself today, I bid the once almost dashing gent in his once dapper suits and ties, a tepid goodbye.
(Hundreds of jokes can be made regarding the fact that former New York Governor Eliot Spitzer - disgraced by a sex scandal in 2008 - is replacing Olbermann's show with his own piece of the radioactive airwaves. I'm trying to think of one that is closer to PG-13 than XXX. Not easy. I'm sure Jon Stewart's "The Daily Show" writers will find a way, though. Hint.)
Image via: www.stylelite.com
Friday, March 30, 2012
.jpg)
Friday's Tidbits
Treading lightly on a stroll around the Interwebs....
If I'm not mistaken, more than 3 of these are running loose in Florida: What Else Is New
Now it all makes sense? The Bobby Brown Equation
If we're reverting to the 1950's, then I want my collagen back! Toys R Unjust
A tree is a tree is not a tree but a natural house for thee: Nature's Way Out
A rather Liberal view of what's relative: And The Earth Is Flat
Those fella's in Texas need a chill pill: What About The Toothpaste Cap?
Is Rihanna channeling a Hugh Hefner LSD flashback? Oh, My Eyes!
And here she is again: Out Of This World?
That's it for today. Thanks for stopping by!
Wednesday, March 28, 2012
Not-So-Ambient Moments
I thought Mr. Sweater Vest was above using such #$%!&^ language. Guess not. He is, after all, the "Fire In The Belly" of the Conservative/Tea Party these days. Gotta show some "real" anger to assuage the irked, pissed-off portion of the US of Nay to them there folks in places like Iran where the saber-rattling to go to war against them is floating around in the gaseous winds of the unhinged.
Go To War With Iran? Are these people out of their.... Oh, never mind.
So what else is new? Obviously I haven't a clue what to Flog about today. But here I am, Flogging Whip in hand, waiting for the "right" topic to send to the woodshed.
How about nothing related to the Big Newz of the day? That's it! I'll tell you about the perils of Ambien, the #1 Sleeping Aid in America at the moment. And it can be a peril to many who use the drug. Ambien isn't something you want to mess around with unless you can actually fall asleep shortly after taking it. Otherwise, you end up driving to local grocery stores in an Ambien Blackout Stupor only to awake moments later when pulled over by a cop for "strange driving patterns." (As happened to one hapless fellow a few years back.)
Well, I end up making dinner (that I only realize happened the next morning when I walk into the kitchen to see the evidence). Or, I feel omnipotent and free of any responsibility and call a grocery delivery service to stock up on items I don't need, wasting money I should be paying my doctors. Or, better yet, how about what I did a few days ago?
While I continue to progress from a hip fracture last year caused by a strange fall in the house, a Physical Therapist continues to come to my residence to fine-tune hip alignment and strengthen weak muscles for stable walking. Things are going well. At least they were. I'll find out tomorrow when the PT comes by again to take me for walks up and down stairs and hills, followed with several balancing moves we do inside.
Well, what a shock it was for my newest PT to find me in a bit of an odd "condition" when I opened the door for her Monday late afternoon. Unknown to me at the time, I had ingested an Ambien in error (it looks almost identical to another medication I take and was out of its bottle in my Rx drawer). Not only did the medication take me to an odd state of altered consciousness, but I stumbled on a stray bottle of cognac and decided that it would be a fun idea to have a shot or three in the middle of the afternoon. Say what?
Hah! First, alcohol doesn't spend much time in my home. When it's here it's for guests and for celebrations and special dinners. Why there was an open bottle of cognac sitting around the abode was/is unusual. Maybe it was brought by a guest from a recent gathering here. The fact that I loathe hard liquor, can't handle it, usually become ill, didn't matter with half of my brain shut-off from rational thinking from the Ambien. I didn't question what I was doing. And my PT appointment was less than a half hour away. It's always a great idea to get sheet-faced before doing balancing exercises, isn't it?
So, when the PT first saw me smiling she was glad, and I waltzed-walked around the main room to show my progress. She was impressed. I was no longer quasi-limping. Then I recall babbling about having had a bit of cognac and wasn't "myself." But, I wasn't slurring and could talk, so at that moment she thought I was merely a tad buzzed.
Next thing I recall: A fuzzy memory has me walking up and down a neighbor's outdoor steps (with a cane). I passed, but it must have been after that successful exercise when the PT realized what a mess she had on her hands because my next memory is walking down a private road with her clutching my arm to keep me from wandering in front of cars, I gather, and then another faint memory of returning to the house, doing a few more leg and other balancing maneuvers wherein she told me I was still doing well and more coordinated even when under the influence than most of her patients. Nevertheless, for my safety and her professional responsibility, she suggested that I sit down and take a few breaths.
I don't remember much after doing an arm and leg lift akin to stretching-out on ice skates, until I sat down at the desk where she was filling out her paperwork, then complimented her hipster knitted cap, finally comprehended that we wouldn't be doing a few other of my assignments, signed the paper she handed to me to confirm that she had been here, and waved goodbye as she very possibly fled out the door.
And then I have no memory of anything until I slipped into bed at 8:00 and slept for twelve hours, awaking to that awful feeling of "What the..." did I do? Why did I drink cognac? Or anything like that? In fact, I wondered, why did I seem so high before I made that ridiculous decision? Talk about mixing poisons! I went to my Rx drawer and saw the loose Ambien tablets had fallen out of the bottle and realized what had happened.
This latest incident is one of many I've had over the past two years whenever I have either deliberately taken an Ambien at night for sleep (when needed) or made the exact same mistake with taking the wrong medication during the day. For me it is a dangerous drug. My system doesn't absorb it in the way in which it is "supposed" to work. I remain awake and perform "normal" activities with very little memory of my actions. Not good, I tell ya'.
So, just in case you are thinking about taking that particular drug, make sure you aren't one of the many who have what I define as The Walking Ambien Zombie Syndrome. If you have trouble sleeping from time-to-time, try a warm glass of milk first, then take a hot bath, tell your mind to STFU and turn on a really boring TV show at 3:00 AM. If that doesn't do it, then maybe cognac all by itself might do, although I don't recommend it on a regular basis.
And no, I won't be taking any more of those little pills for any reason in the future. I'm lucky to be alive, unscathed, and able to function without it.
That's my latest personal story of the week. Hopefully my PT will be compassionate as she normally is, and tomorrow when she returns we can get back to the real healing biz.
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
Who Deserves A Flog Today?
Quiet rant over.
Monday, March 26, 2012
Any Excuse Will Do
Image via: http://awwman.net
Sunday, March 25, 2012
Street Art of the Day
Artist - Leon Keer
Image via: http://oddstuffmagazine.com
Image via: http://oddstuffmagazine.com
(Def check this out in 'Zoom' - or whatever kicks your screen resolution/s)
Basic 'Human Instinct' Ruminations
In today's world (you know, technology and that sort of thing), whenever an horrendous crime against anyone is committed, family members, community leaders, and sometimes National Leaders of church and state, come together in front of microphones to beg, suggest, or push the message that they are speaking-out against whatever the crime may have been so that "...this won't happen again to (fill in the blank)."
It's a noble message. Thought. Desire. The truth, however, is that chances are whatever IT was WILL "happen again." And just hearing those hopeful, altruistic words repeated year-after-year are causing most of us to tune out and sigh. How could (fill in the blank) NOT happen again when human nature has barely changed since (our understanding of) the inception of the human race?
Humans can change, up to a point - thus far. The concept of tolerance for others who have different Overall Life views, different skin colour, different religious (or non-at-all) persuasions than us, does occur - beyond conceptionalism. Nay, shall we not forget it's the "animal" within us that has yet to be tamed regardless of our diverse heritages. Our instincts at the core remain in "fight or flight" mode when confronted with danger. The majority of the planet eats other living beings for sustenance. We are often taught that humans are simply the Top Of The Food Chain as we learn from childhood that many other animals "eat their young" or each other.
Right "off the bat" as kids we are immediately inured to what our parents and relatives and friends are really doing when sitting at a table with a huge dead bird or pig or fish laid out for consumption. No one thinks about what they are eating. Unless, just as we've seen countless times in films, the dinner turns out to be the former family pet chicken or duck and a child freaks-out, cries, and flees from the table, becoming an instant vegetarian.
The "pack" mentality (or "tribal") exists within humans, becoming just as dangerous, bloodthirsty and lethal, as a pack of wolves chasing-down its prey when hunger, anger, or fear (thus the need to dominate for "survival") have been activated. And so it goes.
The above are the usual examples when anyone addresses how we haven't shed our "animal instincts". This part of the flog isn't new at all. It's a reminder. The human race has a very long way to go before the majority are peaceful, not slaves to the Ego and Pre-Wired Violent Tendencies which can suddenly erupt to the surface of an otherwise non-violent personality when pushed to a maddening emotional Critical Mass.
Which is why I wish the refrain of "...so this won't happen to..." was/is/shan't be/oh-no-no, not on the brink of becoming another Buzz Phrase no one listens to anymore.
So sorry, but until each person on this planet becomes a genuine Saint in their hearts and deeds, people will continue to harm, maim, kill, other people just as we continue to do in the slaughter of all other Living Beings For Sport and because the steak and sushi taste so great.
Image via: http://sn00per.blogspot.com
Saturday, March 24, 2012
Saturday Tidbits
Take two pills of some sort, don't call me in the morning, and down them with a Dirty Martini becuz here it comes: Wayward Rovers-In-the-Night
Is water wet? Trayvon Martin
Why steal something that Florida already has en masse? Slippery Dopes
Now I feel really old. Look Who's Coming To Town
I like a site with a sense of "Self" humour: Flog Away And They'll Print It
The story isn't new, but it's always fascinating to read the Comments: Eat, Drink & Be Marry
UFO's again. This time with music. And for just this month - so far: Makes One Wonder
Unapologetic Liberalism at your service: Is Robert Right-esh?
See you later.....
Friday, March 23, 2012
No Hoodies In the Hood?
Sure, Geraldo has a point with regard to the overall perception that any male person of colour in a "hoodie" means trouble based on images he does mention in the following article - This One, yet from Trayvon's girlfriend's account, the young man did not pull his hoodie over his head until after he discovered he was being followed by Zimmerman.
Even so, so what? He placed a practical addition to his sweatshirt/jacket over his head. Does that mean it's open season on anyone who chooses to actually use their "hoodie" for its purpose of covering one's head? Are we now going to squelch the freedom of how to wear clothing for those of a certain race and age? What next? No baseball hats? Isn't it true that bank robbers love those things? Or, what about tennis shoes? How about shades/sunglasses? Gosh, we could go on and on with "thug" clothing choices, eh?
Hey Geraldo, what about taking-on guys who drive around - alone - in SUV's packing a loaded handgun? Should we begin a movement on Solo SUV Drivers, cuz, you know, lotsa gangsta-types drive those, too. Maybe had good ole' "clean record" (my arse) George not been driving around the neighborhood looking for trouble he wouldn't have found/created it. Maybe he should have been on a bicycle because that kind of transportation is less intimidating and may not lend the rider a sense of omnipotence that one feels when high-up in a big SUV.
Yeah, that's the solution. No SUV's cuz' that could cause young kids of colour to want to pull up their hoodies and start running when followed by the machine with it's occupant harassing them for walking in a nice neighborhood.
I have an even better idea. How about not allowing "neighborhood watch" people to carry guns while "on duty" - they aren't Real Police or Real Security Guards or anything. They are citizens who often have itchy trigger fingers.
Or, in this particular case, allows closet racists to "Stand Their Ground" against unarmed teens who just want to get back to the home where they planned to watch a basketball game on TV. Oh, whoops, basketball watching should also be suspect, don't you think? We all know how many peoples of colour play that game, thus attracting other people of colour who, gasp, might want to have a few friends over to root for their team while sipping ice tea and downing a few Skittles.
Which reminds me, Geraldo, did you consider the Skittles factor into your logic? Those things are damn dangerous! The very thought of a kid with Skittles wearing a hoodie makes me want to jump out of a powerful SUV and shoot them to death. I swear that the colourful bits of candy will try to break out of its wrapper and fly all over my face and I'll just have to defend myself with a bullet.
Thursday, March 22, 2012
Pet Drama
Good day to you... The Shauna Z homestead is in a bit of turmoil today due to the possibility of taking the household's new pet to the vets - possibly not to return. It's a sad decision all pet owners must make, and sadder still as the new cat (although very old) has brought a bright new energy into the realm. But it's a truth that sometimes elderly pets who just lost their owner from a long-standing illness often follow.
Needless to say, my focus is elsewhere at the moment.
Will return soon.....
UPDATE: Saturday, 14 March: Thanks to those who sent private emails regarding the above post. The household's new friend had to go on to play in another "reality" after a stellar 20 years of feisty-ness here on Planet Earth. A toast to all pet owners and pets everywhere! A long and good life was had by the black and white tiny cat who looked like a kitty but was really a grand-mitty.
Needless to say, my focus is elsewhere at the moment.
Will return soon.....
UPDATE: Saturday, 14 March: Thanks to those who sent private emails regarding the above post. The household's new friend had to go on to play in another "reality" after a stellar 20 years of feisty-ness here on Planet Earth. A toast to all pet owners and pets everywhere! A long and good life was had by the black and white tiny cat who looked like a kitty but was really a grand-mitty.
Wednesday, March 21, 2012
Halo-Tosis
The condition his mental health doctors are saying was the cause of the incident is "Brief Reactive Psychosis." Details Here
"Brief Reactive Psychosis" makes a great deal of sense for at least a portion of Russell's troubles that day. It also works for me when we hear about celebrities who are suddenly flooded with acclaim and hoards of strangers chasing after them with cameras and pens-out for an autograph every other minute. They either fall into the quicksand of self destruction if they don't feel worthy, or take it to the other side of the glitter and buy into their press and already entitled ego-driven demands and superior attitudes.
The latter is when reality is but a memory and one's sense of feeling Extremely Special steps in. It's so very easy to extend the "Brief" in the "Reactive Psychosis" to "Full-time." Some celebs handle their hu-mongous success with dignity and humility. Chances are they were around the Biz for a while before becoming "overnight successes" and have been able to stay somewhat sane for years on end.
But unless you are Justin Bieber with Usher as your mentor and already filled with a deep sense of being the Second Coming, fame will def eff you up. If one has been trained to deal with instant fame, shielded by "handlers" and given sound advice on how to remain (or become) as grounded as possible in the midst of an international spotlight, the attention can still be overwhelming but at least they had been warned, trained and prepped. But others, especially those who are normally behind-the-scenes, aren't prepared for their close-up.
And those who have been used to a bit of "fame" and "specialness" may still slide into the subtle psychosis of being revered by the nameless crowds of fans and fanatics. I had my own time of entilement when I was a popular DJ for a short while. Suddenly I was receiving free haircuts, free photoshoots, free dinners at restaurants, deep discounts at clothing stores... Paltry trade-offs considering that when I was on the air the payola scandals of the music biz with radio stations was at its height.
Unlike several of the top guys in the executive suites, I didn't have the pleasure of getting a free swimming pool added to where I was living, or a neato car and so on. But just knowing I could waltz around getting the best table at a restaurant, allowed into the back doors of clubs and showered with gifts on holidays from record ex's and a few music artists, sent my already strong ego into a mind-set that I deserved all of those things - for free - and would always have that cachet.
I did, for a while. Until years later, after leaving radio and TV programs where I was the Music Person, I never had to buy an album/CD of any artist. It was all given to me. So were the private screening invitations to the latest major film, and the best seats at any concert I chose. Or an invitation to spend a holiday party at the home of a major celeb and/or musician. It went with the territory.
And I was just a DJ! Not Madonna. Not a Shining Star in the Hollywood pecking order of "Who's Who." The only thing that brought me back to earth after the radio daze was when I was lost and unsure of where to go next with my talents. So, I took many an odd job I was barely qualified to do just to stay afloat. Going from signing autographs to answering phones brings on a different perception of reality. And I was only in my 20's when the shift arrived.
But, my personal version of "Reactive Psychosis" still bit at my heels when two other high-profile careers placed me in positions of some renown, and suddenly my name was in the gossip sections of industry magazines/papers such as The Hollywood Reporter, Billboard, etc. When not mentioned as having attended a private industry party, the various positions I held in TV made minor headlines in all of the trade papers.
I bring a small part of my personal experience as a very small player in three entertainment-based industries as an example of what one can become used to after years of fawning, freebies and professional popularity. Believe me, it's way too easy for some in The Biz to lose any sense of perspective on what "really matters" in Life.
Then again, for some, all that really matters is the Fame and Fortune - which are the ones who usually don't have "brief" or longer-lasting "Reactive Psychosis" because, hey, they already thought they were destined for God-like worship. Nope, no "psychosis" there. Just "Halo-Tosis."
I feel for Jason Russell if he indeed has been overwhelmed in a debilitating way by instantaneous recognition among what must have been a whirlwind few weeks of being 'The Latest Big Story' with the KONY video circling the globe faster than Superman on steroids.
You know, I'm thinking that I may need another dose of Quasi-Fame to facilitate another reason why I'm having my own Reality Meltdown (as explained in my Profile for why this blog exists). Yep. Tell all of your friends and foes about this little site. Let the growing readership of TDFB become overwhelmingly huge and then I will write even more confusing nonsense and ensure my place in the latest Hall of Insane that we can now describe as a form of psychosis. Considering how "Reactive" I can be, the chances of acceptance into this hitherto barely known condition is undoubtedly automatic.
Heh heh?
Tuesday, March 20, 2012
Monday, March 19, 2012
Who Deserves A Flog Today?
Read it here if you want more info: Racial Profiling At Its Worst
*A correction has been made in the flog. Zimmerman was/is not an official "Security Guard."
Sunday, March 18, 2012
Had Some Blarney With Biscotti
Nope. That wasn't a gay reference. We all know that Leprechauns are straight, whimsical and cute, but not witty, snarky or bitchy despite the glittery outfits and funny hats. No way are they gay. But Gaelic? Sure, why not. Can't you just hear them saying "It's a brit nit out tonit..."
And no, I'm not nursing a hangover from alcohol although you can sense my mood is a bit light and wiggly. I'm feeling the ramifications of having eaten an entire box of Ginger Biscotti's late at night. Not my fav flavour, Ginger, but they served their purpose of calming my sweet teef's. Now I will refrain from stepping on a scale for at least a week until the late night pig-out is but a memory and my skinny jeans will fit once more.
Skinny jeans? Me? How dare I wear what some people would consider to be "age inappropriate" attire. From what I read on numerous message boards I may as well pack it in after a certain age and start wearing pearls with knit dresses and frumpy pantsuits, and make sure to set my hair with hairspray left over from my late grandmother's estate.
'Tis true. Grown women and men flog away on a daily basis about how certain people in the over-heated spotlight are dressing in an non "age appropriate" manner. Age appropriate to what, I ask? To old norms? One look at someone wearing what is considered to be "appropriate" for their age sends shudders down my spine. Too often I'll see a picture of someone in my age group dressed like I gather some people think people like me should be wearing for our age group and they look like my grandmother or grandfather did in the 60's.
But then, that seems to be where certain factions of the American population want to take us. Well, you'll have to pull the Converse "All Stars" off my feet and cut my hair before I'll follow that trend.
Yeah, I've had too much Biscotti for sure.
Image via: http://ourkitchensink.wordpress.com
Saturday, March 17, 2012
It's That Green-With-No-Envy Day
Have a safe and cheery St. Patrick's Day.....
Image via: http://www.freakingnews.com
Friday, March 16, 2012
Tidbits
This has been going on for a while. All very odd. Could RDJ Be So Foolish?
A new way to dodge your bar tab. Going To Great Lengths
Trouble at the homestead? What Did She Expect When She Married The Jerk?
The stud of STUDS (as it were) has died. RIP "Jocko"
If Solar Storms interest you, this one's for you: Ramifications
That's it for today - running late......
Thursday, March 15, 2012
Street Art of the Day
Location - Vancouver, BC
Format - Mural
Image via: http://www.graffitinearme.com
Oh Brother - Or Not?
Okay. We're back to biz now that Google Chrome has been wiped from my computer and a cleaner browser has taken its place. No more Flash Player crashes, no more wandering around the "Help" topics which, if one is on Blogger/Blogspot, is almost as helpful as showing-up to the ER at a hospital without medical insurance.
So, what's new? Nothing of major importance other than the U.S. pissing-off Afghanistan (brilliant move, guys!); George Clooney, sitting beside First Lady Michelle Obama at last night's State Dinner to honour the UK's David Cameron, sans his most recent "companion" Stacy Keibler (probably signed-off on the End of Awards Season contract and is good to go - away - just as George likes it); Mr. Big Mouth Limbaugh remains under fire for his Fluke comments as even more advertisers flee the scene of his latest slime, which, of course, leads me to the recent discovery of the nasty "pink slime" covering beef and other "red meat" products/foods. Yuck! Thank God I stopped eating red meat 30 years ago!
But the story that keeps on giving many the Raised Eyebrows Of WTF Syndrome continues to revolve around Whitney Houston's daughter, Bobbi. That gurl!
First it's reported that Bobbi has a drug problem and needs "care" and that sort of thing. Next we hear that she agreed to an interview with the Big O Winfrey, which raised even more WTF's because the general consensus "out there" is that it was "too soon" and how dare Oprah use Bobbi to punch-up the dwindling OWN Network ratings. The interview was held, the ratings went up, and reportedly Oprah doesn't understand why everyone's pointing "Boo-On-You" fingers her way.
Next was the disclosure of Whitney's Will, leaving everything to Bobbi. Not exactly a flush estate at the time of Miz Houston's death, one can be certain that over time the coffers will once again be well fed. As will anyone who hangs with Bobbi for any length of time if she is allowed to have her own way. Which takes us to the very latest: a supposed relationship, possible engagement, with her non-blood-related unofficial brother, Nick Gordon, who has been part of the Whitney, Bobbi household since he was 12.
Hmmmm, seems to be the first response. "Incest!" is the second, voiced (reportedly) by Bobbi's you-don't-wanna-mess-around-with-grandma Cissy Houston. I can tell that it's going to be quite a ride in the Houston camp until this latest bit of drama is swept out of the headlines...something almost impossible at the moment now that Nick is tweeting away about his situation with Bobbi in a way that has his followers (and hers) scratching their heads. Like, what does he mean? Are they or aren't they engaged? He deleted previous Twatter posts which were, I gather, rather easy to decipher until Cissy began yelling "Incest!"
I'm on the fence with whether or not two consenting adults who are not related by blood can be considered to have an incestuous relationship just because they grew up in the same house and always considered the other their "sibling." It depends, doesn't it? So, they grew up in a quasi-brother and sister atmosphere. But, what's the difference between their supposed intimate association and cousins marrying other cousins? Or, if raised in a mixed boarding school most of one's life, would marrying or being romantically involved with another classmate with whom you've known all of your life, shared meals with, lived in the same building, treated as part of one's "family" for years, be considered wrong?
It's the perception of incest more than the FACT of such that seems to be causing debate and concern. In truth, because they are not related by blood I don't believe it's incestuous at all. What bothers me the most (as if it's any of my business), is how quickly Bobbi and Nick "came out" to the world. One wonders, is it the money he's placing his bets on? Or, how long has this thing between them been going on?
We may find out soon enough. Oprah could invite both Bobbi and Nick for an "Exclusive" OWN Network interview where they will hold hands and talk about how much they care for each other and that Whitney would give her approval were she still among us. Oh, and the pregnancy? Well, that'll just seal the deal, won't it?
Stay tuned.......
Image via: www.latestgossip.ewebsite.com
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
Google Chrome Angst
A problem exists in the Chrome browser that appears to have become worse for many users of the once swift and clean browser many of us have been using for years. Of late, frustrated Chrome users are complaining in droves that a once-infrequent browser crash on Chrome due to Shockwave has now become a regular, almost daily event.
This website will no longer work on my computer in Google Chrome without crashing, but works well with other browsers. While my now more than furry brain has spent days with IT Techies, followed all of the usual tricks to avoid the crashings, this particular site just won't comply.
So, today I'm again suspending posting so that our techie-partners can discover what''s going on under the cover. Google Chrome has been a wonderful browser until now. I hope that other Chrome users who access this site do not have the same issues I have been dealing with for over a week. If so, there is no one to blame other than the Giant Google Monster that seems hell-bent on driving most of its users away ever since it began playing ball with Big Boys and creating the Dead Zone that is called Google +.
If you have any tech issues with this site and would like to let us know, try to reach Shauna Z at: SZCelebration@aol.com.
Monday, March 12, 2012
Conversations With The Flogging Whip
The problem the Whip and I have is that I try to be open to hearing other people's point of view. The other problem is that I just can't agree with what is tossed-out in the public forum these days with regard to women's rights, gay rights, basic human rights....
The Whip wants to send more than one or two lashes in the direction of those who want to push back time to the 1950's and below. The Blogger, "Me", wants to be honest, but has a few concerns in doing so without resorting to the Whip's juvenile tendencies which seem to be ruling the world these days with Twatter feuds and endless name-calling...
Here are the highlights from the encounter:
Whip: You're a wuss, ya' know that?
Me: Huh?
Whip: You won't let me draw blood on subjects you think will offend readers and some friends.
Me: Uh, yeah. Kinda.
Whip: Did you just hear yourself? What kind of answer is that?
Me: A safe one.
Whip: Therein lies your problem, bitch.
Me: Did you need to call me names?
Whip: That's what I'm supposed to do, you idiot!
Me: No, you're supposed to flog people and subjects with a sharp, stinging edge, not with childish name-calling.
Whip: Says who?
Me: Says me.
Whip: And you are….?
Me: The hand that moves your muscle.
Whip: You mean the hand that is a muzzle!
Me: Without me you'd be in trouble….
Whip: Without me you'd be a dullard…
Me: Without a doubt.
Oh my, how quickly I caved to the Flogging Whip! It was easy, as the Whip had been whirling around and ready to puff-out it's handle just like a big scary hissing snake in the midst of a poisonous serum backup.
But what it doesn't know is that I respect its propensity to rise up and flog away whenever a perceived injustice or slice of absurdity enters the general blathering discourse on politics, religion and celebrity/cultural news.
I admit that I do hold the Flogging Whip back from drawing a bloody trail through this blog. There is always a different point of view to consider. But, as the Whip suggests, it has a purpose or else this blog wouldn't exist. So, wuss-though-I-am, I'll let the Whip have its Flogs for the day with some help from today's news:
WTF is with all of those who believe this crap? Puleeze! (Many voters of a certain state believe Obama is a Muslim. Wonder where all of that brainwashing came from?)
Who gives a flying crack? Home For the Not-So-Now-A-Daze ....... Whoa! Gonna stop the Whip right here. There must be more enticing news afoot.....There are endless articles all over the Interwebs regarding Rick Santorum (Mr. Sanctimonious to you, BTW). Both the Whip and I have one thing in common on language at this stage: You, Mr. Dick, are the Living Dead.
Whip: That was soooo lame! I didn't sign off on that!
Me: *hangs head in shame*
Whip: I thought you were setting me free for a few sentences! Liar!
Me: What do you intend to say that hasn't been said already?
Whip: Santorum is living-up to his last name!
Me: That's not original. All fingers point to the dictionary.
Whip: Yeah, it's a dirty tale.
Me: Then tell it to those who don't know!
Whip: Thought you wanted a semi-clean site?
Me: Go Fug yourself. Here it is: Wash Yourself
Whip: Exactly!
Sunday, March 11, 2012
Saturday Night Jive
And no, today's focus won't be on HBO's "Game Change" starring the underestimated and exquisitely talented Julianne Moore as Sarah Palin which aired last night. I will see it later, but at the time I was not near HBO and had to forgo the show.
Unfortunately, the one show I did see was part of Saturday Night Live until its increasing banality sent me off into a nice, peaceful sleep.
Lorne Michaels, creator and executive producer of the astonishingly long-running "Saturday Night Live", must have NBC by what's left of their balls/cojones (yes, I finally stopped spelling it "cajones"). I heard they still flash particles of gold dust in his path as he walks to his Grand Temple Office, filled with Nubian slaves and a full-time manicurist, masseuse - even back in the days before he and Tina Fey offered "30 Rock".
How can SNL continue to stay on the air with the atrocious writing we have been witnessing for many seasons? Sure, almost every year since its inception Michaels has managed to find at least one, if not two, very good sketch actors who then go on to fame and fortune, or misfortune, depending on who they are. And, from time-to-time a sketch will actually be funny and one has a brief moment of "Ahhh, there it is!" That moment of why we tuned-in. To laugh. How rare that is these days unless the host inspires someone in the writer's chambers to wake up the dormant Laughter Maker in their head and create genuinely unique, witty and pithy characters to write clever scenes around.
The bad, awful, utterly stupid writing on SNL over the years defies television longevity. For instance, last night the show opened with a promising sketch on Rush Limbaugh. Taran Killam, who played Rush, was excellent in his depiction of the Big Mouth. Perfect mimicry from voice to body movements. Bravo on that! But the script he had to read? Too long. Too stupid. Too-Too-Too you name it. And the nonsense host Jonah Hill had to endure? Ouch! Read & Watch
If you tuned-in last weekend to see what Lindsay Low-Hand's "comeback" would look like when she did her latest twirl on the stage as the host, you'll agree (in all probability) that not only did the show fizzle like the end of Lindsay's "comeback", but the writing for the basic sketches was not only terrible but not funny at all in any way or any how. The cringe-worthy way-too-long-and-ultimately-inappropriate-sketch with Linds being herself at a prison-based "Scared Straight" venue, had to go on and on and on, ending roughly with threats of rape. How funny is that? Oh, hah hah hah! Not. No way.
When I watch the actors try to turn the bland, unfunny material into more than it is, as a true talent will do, half of the time the strain to find the punch-line and make it work is palpable, thus uncomfortable to watch.
Writing comedy isn't easy. You've heard and read that comment/statement thousands of times because it is really true. You need to be a be a bit bent as well as disciplined...or, as in the first years of SNL, totally coked-out of your mind. Seth Meyers, Weekend Update's bland-looking, blah-acting, uptight clean cut white college-type male is currently the show's Head Writer. I can't imagine him letting loose on anything other than a tennis court, so maybe that's a hint right there.
I don't know what, if any, drugs are openly going around in the writer's room these days, but if so, they must be prescription and primarily Opiates. Zzzzzz.
Image via: http://school.discoveryeducation.com
Saturday, March 10, 2012
Saturday Cleaning
Image via: http://minnstruction.com/
Friday, March 9, 2012
Thursday, March 8, 2012
How Green Is Your Valley?
But one announcement today proves that Hell has indeed frozen over: Pat Robertson, the religious leader and one who blames natural disasters and terrorism on gays and women and most peoples of colour, and, of course, lack of praying, thinks that marijuana should be legal. Of course, he doesn't smoke it and, according to him, never has, but allows himself a drink of alcohol or two every now and then, so what's the difference between a little toke on a weed and a few shots of tequila? Not much, per Mr. Robertson. Read It Here
After having a second cup of strong black tea I re-read the Robertson article to make sure I wasn't dreaming. Yes, it's true. What's next, I wonder? Will Rihanna try to get Chris Brown to dump his girlfriend and go back to her now that the scars from his brutal beating on her face have healed and are but a mere memory? Uh, yeah, that seems to be going on, too.
While perusing a few entertainment gossip and "news" sites to ensure the continuing degeneration of my mind, headlines were shouting out a Twitter war of the words that went down recently between little ole' misguided Rihanna and Brown's latest g-friend (whose name I won't bother to write as her few minutes of "fame" may soon be over). If you haven't heard/read the mess, here are the mature words she tossed Rihanna's way on Twatter: Paraphrasing, "I'm Angelina, you're Jen..." Referring, naturally, to the Greatest BS 'Love Triangle' of almost all time cuz, girlfriend is with Chris (as Angelina is with Brad Pitt, and Jen is not, get it?), and Rihanna isn't. Supposedly. Despite holding hands at a private party and being all cozy together and stuff.
Ahem.
Maybe I'll return to the marijuana focus. TMZ has provided their readers with the latest episode of "Weeds" courtesy of the Afghanistan war: Waste Not, Want Pot
On that high note, I leave you for today. I have things to do, such as call my dealer now that Pat Robertson has given the okay. May God bless his strange little heart.
Image via: http://thefreshscent.com
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
Who Deserves A Flog Today?
Here are the details of Maher's Limbaugh defense: Double Ewwwwww
Tuesday, March 6, 2012
Bonus Post
Highly encourage a read: Here It Is
Image via: http://sarahmaidofalbion.blogspot.com
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)