September 6, 2005

Where’s My Bow Tie?

I followed a link on my blog friend Terry’s blog that leads to one of the most idiotic pieces of film I’ve ever seen in my life. I’d get mad if I wasn’t laughing so hard at the absurdity of it all.

The feature film is an instructional piece called “Boys Beware”. Judging by the 1959 Impala in the film, I’m guessing it was made around 1959 or 1960. This film was shown in public schools to warn young boys of the dangers of the mentally ill homosexual.

This movie makes me cringe.

Apparently, I’m doing this whole homosexual thing wrong because according to this film I’m sick, perverted and should be stalking young boys at the playground and offering more than a piece of candy. And all this time I’ve been interested in older men or guys my age. Better yet, all the homosexuals in the movie wear bow-ties and/or have a mustache! Sacré bleu!

Mentally ill my ass. It’s so stupid it’s amusing. Small wonder the world is as fucked up as it is.

Please note: If you care to watch, keep in mind that it’s a pretty big download and requires Quicktime. Also, note the extremely ‘gay’ soundtrack. Fruity flutes and all.

If you don’t want to watch, there’s a hilarious write up here.

Movin’ On Up.

While I’m on a political rant today, I stumbled across another gem from the Bush clan on Andymatic’s blog. This one is from Barbara Bush apparently she feels the folks from New Orleans that live in the Astrodome have moved on up to a de-luxe apartment in the sky.

“”What I’m hearing which is sort of
scary is they all want to stay in Texas. Everyone is
so overwhelmed by the hospitality.

“And so many of the people in the arena here, you
know, were underprivileged anyway, so this–this (she
chuckles slightly) is working very well for them.”


She Works Hard For The Money.

I stumbled across this article on many, many, many, many news sites and blogs over the weekend. It’s unfortunate that my immediate response was a shrug of the shoulders and muttering “typical”.

If you don’t feel like clicking the link, here’s the short version. While New Orleans and surrounding area is under several feet of water with thousands of people literally starving, dehydrating and dying in the streets, Condoleeza Rice maintained her vacation schedule and went shoe shopping up Fifth Avenue in Manhattan. One woman approached her and said “Shame on you!” along with other assorted rants. Condy didn’t like the verbal attack, so she had the woman physically removed from the store.

After her exhausting trip up Fifth Avenue, Condy then took in the new Broadway comedy, “Spamalot”. Reports say she was laughed heartily during the show but was booed after the lights came up at the end.

And to think I feel guilty for using internet bandwidth for bitching about my pool being green or feeling cranky this morning when thousands upon thousands of people are starving, suffering or worse in the South. And I don’t even like the South.

Shame on you Condoleeza Rice for showing disinterest in the plight of thousands of human beings in the gulf states.

Shame on you Condoleeza Rice for having a woman physically taken away by security for expressing her opinion. (Perhaps she was a terrorist that encouraged bad fashion or something).

Shame on you Condoleeza Rice for spending $7,000 for a pair of shoes. Note to American people – this woman is paid WAY too much money.

When all is said and done, this administration will go down as the laughing stock of American history.

But fear not because last year the American voters did stop a few gay men and lesbians from getting married in a few states. After all, that’s what was most important. I’m glad we still know where our priorities are.

A Day Like Today.

It’s 6:16 a.m. and I’m already in the mood to go back to bed. I find getting back to work after a long weekend not easy. Truth be known, I find getting up before 10 a.m. not easy.

I’ve done my exercises. I’ve thrown my scale. I’ve carefully measured out one cup of Raisin Bran and a 1/2 a cup of fortified skim milk and crunched through that. Trying to spice up my mood, I lived on the edge and poured out 9 oz of orange juice instead of eight.

After spending the weekend doing things, moving around and doing what I want, when I want, where I want, I am in no mood to settle down behind a desk and take trouble calls like listening to Miss Priss complain that she can’t complete a call to her hairdresser. But that’s what I do.

Life?!? Where are you?