A Note From a Hard-Working White Guy

NOTE: Well y'all, after a long break off, I'm officially 2/3 of an attorney. I had hoped to make my come-back post something fun and funny. Then I just got pissed off, so you're in for a rant. Please stay tuned for some fun to return.

I had decided Wednesday that I would no longer make snarky remarks about the Clintons. The election is all but over, the bad behavior will soon be a thing of the past, and now is the time for some much-needed unity because the choices in November are quite clear.

Then Hillary Clinton had to act a fool. Again.

Clinton cited an Associated Press poll "that found how Senator Obama's support among working, hard-working Americans, white Americans, is weakening again, and how whites in both states who had not completed college were supporting me."

Sometimes I wish our elections were like Showtime at the Apollo. If they were, someone would have chased the Clintons off the stage by now with a very big broom.

Now, despite the fact that I have spent my day today shopping for ties for a pal's wedding and seeing a matinee of "Iron Man" with Craiggers, I think I'm a fairly hard working white American. I don't spend my whole day on my feet like my mama, but I work it when necessary. That pesky college education I earned by working my way through, the education that is apparently keeping me from supporting Sen. Clinton, wasn't necessary for me to know this: Democrats loose white people every election, and have for a couple of generation. Bill Clinton lost white folks. Both times.

There was a time when we called Bill Clinton America's first black president. He just seemed to have a way of relating to people different than him to the point that you felt like he was one of you. That was the way for gay folks too, even though he consistently sold us out once he was elected. Clearly that relationship was a one-way street because the Clintons and their surrogates have shown over and over that black voters are not the party voters who really matter.

The behavior of the Clintons is all the more shocking because statistics show that it was a coalition led by black voters who put Bill Clinton into office. He lost among white voters to both Bush and Dole, just as all Democrats do. So why the Clintons and the pundits devalue the black vote is beyond me.

Black voters turn out to exercise their choice in heavy numbers, and they do so with loyalty to the Democratic party. Instead of trying to lure back the so-called Reagan Democrats (who, newsflash, are not coming back), we should be building the party with voters who will be as consistent and loyal as African Americans have been. And instead of insulting them with claims that the voters who really matter are the mythical white folks of the Clinton coalition, progressive white folks should be thanking the black voters for saving our asses over and over again. The Clintons ought to be offering rides to the polls for black voters with a foot rub afterward. After all, they're the voters who built the legacy that the Clintons are quickly destroying with every ill-advised comment.

I'm That Guy

Last spring I had to go to campus on a Saturday. Being that it was Saturday, I can park in the faculty parking lot rather than hiking in from Siberia as I do on a weekday (in spite of tuition that is on the level of a new compact car annually). For whatever reason, campus was hopping that day, and there was only one open space in the lot. Located next to a Ford Excursion. A ginormous Ford Excusion parked by Stevie Wonder. I wrenched my back getting out of my Honda Civic, and wrenched it again two hours later when I returned to my car. The rage bubbled up inside me, and for the first time in my life, I left a note on someone's car.

I can assure you it was not the note posted above.

No, it was more salty and to the point. After all, I did major in journalism. I believe in being concise:

If you fuck like you park, you'll never get it in.

And I don't feel bad about it, not one bit. Not just because this driver was piggy with the parking spaces, but because they're piggy with the planet. I say this to friends and foes alike: if you're driving a gas-guzzling SUV in today's world, you are selfish, and need to take a long hard look at yourself. Period. You know what extreme low mileage does to dwindling fossil fuel supplies and to the environment. Clearly you don't care. Seriously, what the hell is wrong with you?

I have a personal policy regarding SUVs, especially Hummers, a vehicle which is an automotive substitute for a gigantic flashing neon sign proclaiming the driver to be an asshole. If you are driving a fuel-inefficient SUV, I will not let you over in traffic. You could probably crush my lovely little Honda of Destiny, but I will not yield. What's more, I will force you to slow down when merging, and I will let cars driven by people who care about the future of the planet in front of me when I know it will slow you down. Just call me the karma police.

All this said, if you made me have to park in a lot that's a mile away because you don't understand the mechanics of getting a metal box between two yellow lines, I'm leaving a note on your vehicle. I don't care if you're driving a horse and buggy. I'm that guy.

The Weekly Cheese: Kylie Edition

I love Sinead O'Connor. Her first album was genius, and her big breakthrough "I Do Not Want What I Have Not Got" (containing the big hit) is one of my ten favorite albums of all time. Earlier this week, Sinead said she would rather take a bullet than listen to Kylie Minogue.

Oh hell naw!

Now, I understand that it is fluffy, but my tens of readers know I love some Kylie Minogue. In fact, I've had her on permanent rotation this week. Sure, Sinead is more musically talented. But these serious musicians for the most part could not put together a catchy and escapist pop song to save their lives. It is a skill...just ask the billionaire members of ABBA. So, in tribute to the Princess of Pop, this week's installment of The Weekly Cheese pays tribute to Australia's favorite daughter.

Disclaimer: No grouchy Irish songstresses were harmed in the making of this blog post.





Live at the Brit Awards, "Can't Get Blue Monday Out of My Head" featuring the fiercest boots this side of Nancy Sinatra.



"Better the Devil You Know," classic Kylie circa 1990



Hot song and nearly nekkid boys, "Red Blooded Woman" live from the "Showgirl" tour.



The German-only release (which explains the high-cheese content of the video) of the Village People-inspired "Your Disco Needs You."

Live Blogging the Oscars

5:50 – Want proof that E! spent too much on Ryan Peecrust’s contract? I give you E! fashion commentator, Kim KardASSian. I can almost smell the dried semen from here.

6:00 – Speaking of Ryan, I haven’t seen a tuxedo that ugly since my father’s second wedding in 1978. Sadly, I was wearing it.

6:13 – Kimora Lee Simmons just called the Juno girl plain. That’s like having a tranny hooker tell you to be a little more sexually adventurous.

6:24 – Heidi Klum, amazing! Though if Sissy Bear had sent that down the runway, she probably would have called it too retro.

6:28 – Amy Ryan (“Gone Baby Gone”) looks a little dull in her Calvin Klein. Mr. Klein must still be spending too much time pretending to be strayt, which has turned him into Donna Karen. At least Amy looks thrilled to be there. It’s always nice to see someone really excited about their good fortune instead of some of these sour-ass jaded bitches.

6:34 – Clooney’s daughter is shockingly pretty, but really doesn’t look much like him. It’s so nice of her to escort her dad to the Oscars.

6:46 – Being someone who doesn’t tan, I’ve never been one to call out someone as looking ill, and I won’t be doing it tonight because I’m afraid Anne Hathaway will come find me and feast on my blood.

6:58 – Daniel Day Lewis must have told someone to wake him up before they go go.

7:02 – It is possible that the McDermott family has the best hair in the history of hair.

7:06 – I used to make fun of John Travolta’s 90s boy band wig. I’d like for him to bring it back. Please.

7:07 – The fact that Marisa Tomei and Helen Hunt have Oscars seem to have given hope to The Rock. Bless his heart. He cleans up nicely.

7:11 – Amy Adams is so pretty. You’d think she’d know better than to get her dress at Contempo Casual back in 1990. Don’t you need boobies to wear a cone bra top?

7:12 – Trading Faces guest commentators Andy and Becca are with us this evening. Andy has already threatened to throw me out of my own house for insulting Marisa Tomei.

7:19 – Just when you thought life couldn’t get any worse for Gary Busey, he gets dismissed by Ryan Seacrest.

7:27 – I know Marion Cottiliard is French. That’s no excuse to dress like the Little Albino Mermaid.

7:34 – What’s the hottest accessory on the red carpet? According to Jessica Alba, it is a scrub.

7:36 – Agreement at last…we all agree we would murder each other for the opportunity to sleep with Javier Bardem.

7:38 – I think I just scared my guests by threatening to beat Cameron Diaz to a bloody pulp for wearing a pony tail on the red carpet. Clearly they don’t understand just how important these things are.

7:41 – I would comment on Tilda Swinson’s dress, but I’m afraid she might cast a jelly-legs jinx on me. Avada Kedavra, Tilda!

7:42 – I have a problem with men who show up to the Oscars without having shaved. That said, I have seen Colin Ferrell naked. He can wear his hair however he damn well pleases.

7:49 – Ellen Page, thank you for being a friend. Travelled down the road and back again. After the Oscars, how about we go have some cheesecake out on the lanai.

7:51 – Becca’s hair is maybe three inches long, and even she asked, “What the fuck did Renee Zellweger do to her hair?!” I’m wondering if she went into the salon and said, “Give me the Jane from Melrose Place”?

7:53 – Viggo Mortenson used to be a poor mountaineer who barely kept his family fed. Now that he’s moved on up to Beverly, he should get a haircut.

7:58 – I’d comment on all the end stuff, but Becca and I are about to throw down over Katherine Heigel’s hair. She went off on it, not realizing I used to have that as a wig.

8:01 – When did Regis Philbin become Bob Barker?

8:14 – What queen did Mrs. Daniel Day Lewis insult that he dressed her like a Christmas doorknocker?

8:15 – Cameron Diaz looks nice from the front. Then she turns around and looks like she dropped a load into her diaper.

8:17 – I’m so impressed that Regis’s granddaughter has managed to be in the bleachers for that many years.

8:19 – SCREAM! Tilda Swinson needs to stay off my damn television. I have neighbors and don’t need Becca screaming like a white woman every time she pops onto screen.

8:24 – Ellen Page again. Lord, where are those bitches from “What Not To Wear” when you need them. Seriously, she looks like your old spinster aunt who is a professional potter, and you’ve invited her to a formal wedding and told her she has to dress up.

8:27 – Jack Nicholson must have just gotten his eyes dilated. And by dilated, I mean snorted a LOT of coke.

8:40 – Jon Stewart made a joke about Obama. Quick director, put the camera on some black people! Oh wait, you beat me to it. By the way, tell Spike Lee that Lou Bega would like his hat back unless you’d like to do your rendition of “Mambo #5.”

8:46 - One of my guests is accusing Miley Cyrus of having a cleft palate. This is clearly a tough room.

8:47 - Clinique, could y'all ship some of that eye cream to George Clooney? He needs to moisturize his situation.

8:55 - "You're not even famous!" "You're a nobody! Get off the stage!" Lawd, this crowd at my house should never be allowed to actually go to the Oscars because we'd totally be thrown out for screaming at the director of the best animated feature.

8:59 - I want to like Amy Adams, except she keeps showing up in dresses from TJ Maxx. Girl, this isn't formal night at the Shriner's lodge. You're pretty and talented. Hire a gay to work that stuff out for you.

9:08 - Queen Latifah got people to take her seriously in Hollywood despite her silly name by having talent. You should try that instead of changing your name, Rock. No one is buying this "Dwayne" business.

9:10 - Harrison Ford to the employee of Supercuts: "Give me the Trump."

9:14 - Jennifer Hudson looks pretty and can't read a cue card, sort of like a contestant on America's Next Top Model who hasn't thrown up everything she's ever eaten.

9:17 - I want someone other than Hal Holbrook to win Best Supporting Actor so that Dixie Carter will stand up and say, "And I want to thank you Rae Dawn, on behalf of all the women of the world!" before slapping the shit out of them.

9:19 - I just had to apologize to my guests for my erection. Thanks a lot, Javier Bardem.

9:26 - This is the best episode of "Star Search" ever! I hope Ed McMahon gives that little girl four stars! Oh wait, this is the best song nominee from that Felicity movie that sucked. Never mind.

9:29 - Owen Wilson is so depressing on the medication he's taking to keep from killing himself that they should have had him introducing Best Documentary.

9:30 - Is it me, or does Bee from "Bee Movie" have the same hair as John Travolta?

9:38 - I want Ruby Dee to punch Tilda Swinton out. That's all.

9:39 - Actually, that is not all. I understand that you're this year's Serious British Actress, but that is no reason to take a damn backdrop from the window at Hot Topic and wear it as a dress. I hope Helen Mirrin sits you down and has a come to Jesus meeting with you, Tilda.

9:48 - I've got to develop my Scottish accent. That way I too can not bother to shave for a formal event and look like a starving rat, and still get laid like crazy. Thanks for the tip, James McAvoy.

9:53 - I'm not sure what's more shocking: that Miley Cyrus is on the Oscars, or that Billy Ray didn't horn his way onto that too.

9:54 - I adore Kristen Chenoweth, but I have to wonder how it is that "9 to 5" lost the best song Oscar and this crap from "Enchanted" got a nomination. It's a tribute to Chenoweth's appeal that I don't want to hit her with a shovel right now.

10:13 - Do you get the feeling that the Best Actress award was a bit of a "fuck you" to the Bush administration? It's the Freedom Oscars, y'all!

10:20 - I can't see Colin Ferrell anymore without thinking "I could eat breakfast, lunch, and dinner right here!" You'll only get that joke if you surf for deeply inappropriate video online, in which case shame on you!

10:31 - I'm glad to see the FDA decided that Botox has no ill effects on a fetus. Otherwise Nikki Kidman would be looking like Karl Malden right about now.

10:37 - Right now Calista Flockhart and Catherine Zeta Jones are watching this honorary Oscar winner and seeing their near-future flash before their eyes.

10:44 - Foreign films? Come on Hollywood, you're either with us or against us.

10:46 - The writers of the original songs from "Hairspray" made two mistakes that caused them not to get any nominations for Best Song. 1) Having someone sing the song that people have ever hear of, and 2) Not testing the songs on diabetics to see if they put the testees into a sugar coma.

10:49 - His Ron Popeil spray hair is making me question all those gay rumors about Travolta.

10:58 - Scene at Cameron Diaz's seamstress's home: "What do you have to make my hips look huge, my boobs look non-existent, and my ass like I've just taken a dump? Oh that's perfect, I'll take it. I think I'll wear a ponytail with it since all I'm doing is presenting at the Oscars."

11:01 - It is funny to hear Hillary Swank talk about the giants of cinema and not mean her teeth.

11:12 - I'm concerned that having our military servicemen on the Oscars will trigger a Don't Ask Don't Tell investigation.

11:17 - You know, I have sat through this entire evening of people dressing blandly so they won't be talked about badly, of people not going off the cue cards, and how am I rewarded? They can't even put Michael Moore up on stage to act a fool and piss people off. Dammit.

11:25 - I wonder how it would look if you bejeweled Jackee Harry's nightgown? Ahhhh, not good Ms Diablo Cody. And yet I adore her. Go figure.

11:32 - Daniel Day Lewis, bless his heart, is the male Bjork of the Oscars. You can always count on him to have an ignorant-assed outfit to give horrible people like me something to talk about. He could still get it, though, even if it is only on the basis of how hot he was in "My Beautiful Lauderette."

11:45 - Denzel, I do not care for the Ving Rames look on you. Please grow your hair back immediately. Thank you.

11:47 - So, this may go down in history as the most boring Oscars ever, at least in terms of fashion (I rather liked Jon Stewart I must say). I can see being so terrified of being called out by Joan Rivers that you hire a stylist to turn you into generic celebrity, but come on, Debbie Matenopoulous does those post-Oscars commentary things now. She's dumber than a sack of hammers, who cares what she or a bitch like me thinks? Much as I loathed Tilda's outfit, I salute her for trying something off-the-wall. I'd rather be loathed than forgotten any day. Good night, y'all!

Project Too Gay

Joan Collins, you were the hottest, and dare I say fiercest, bitch in the 80s. And I know you got around (didn't we all?). But Joan, these guys? I mean really.



And it is bad enough that you let them get under your beaded gown, but did you have to give up the love child that wild night produced?



I mean, he is pretty talented, and I know how you love the puffy sleeves.



By the way, isn't it nice to see how well Vicki from "Small Wonder" grew up?



Editor's Note: Princess Puffysleeves screen capture is blatently lifted from the hot bitches over at the world's greatest blog, Project Rungay.

Glass Trailers

Breaking News: In another post-Grammy Awards shocking revelation, former celebrity Natalie Cole declared that Alicia Keys needs to get her own act instead of just stealing the act of some poor dead guy who can't say no.



In other Grammy news, Christopher Cross complained this week to Access Hollywood that The Foo Fighters were robbed of the award for Best Album, asking, "Why do they always give these things to the most lightweight pieces of fluff possible instead of the guys who rock out?"

Editor's Note: Yes, we realize it is several days past the Grammys, giving this post a decidedly stale flavor.  Give us a break..we're still rusty and trying to get back into regular blogging shape.

The Cheese: Saturday Morning

People in my age group have fond memories of School House Rocks. To this day, the only way I can remember the Preamble to the Constitution is if I sing it in the School House Rocks style. But do you remember when ABC expanded their between-cartoon segments to include Menudo and The Bod Squad? Today's Trading Faces Cheese will have you hankering for a hunk of it.



Hanker For A Hunka Cheese



Don't Drown Your Food



Yuck Mouth

And just for good measure...



The Preamble

Down With Hopes, Up With Dopes

John McCain has officially jumped the shark, y'all. Peepaw needs a nap!



I mean another nap.

His speech Tuesday night made clear several things:

1. He is running against Obama.
2. He will say anything he has to say to get the Radical Right to like him.
3. He doesn't know anyone who is under 45 and non-white (that stage was like a mausoleum!).
4. He is completely batshit crazy.

I mean seriously, peepaw, you're basically giving the speech declaring yourself as the nominee, and all you can do is deride dreams and hopes as a concept? You really don't believe a leader is supposed to inspire us to dream big and then go out and make that dream happen? What a deeply negative message for a campaign, especially one that is winning. That is a strange strategic move for his campaign. My favorite quote from his speech was:

"They will appeal to our dreams of a better future for ourselves, our families and our country, but they would take from us more of the wealth we have earned to build those dreams and assure us that government is better able than we are to make decisions about our future for us."

Ummmm...if someone is dreaming of a better future, chances are they don't have a lot of wealth these alleged crazed Democrats can take. I'd like to know where all this wealth is...apparently this recession thing is just a myth and we're all rich unless we elect Obama! Who knew?

I liked John McCain to some extent, at least as a person if not politically. I think he was stupid to kowtow to the Bush administration, especially after what they did to him in 2000, and he will pay politically for hitching his wagon to that hot mess. And I never believed he is the maverick he says he is...his voting record is insanely conservative (except that he doesn't want to load the brown folks in a box car and ship them to Tijuana, which is precisely what has the wingnuts in a tizzy). But that speech...lawd! It appealed to the lowest common denominator, and lifted up greed and power as an American ideal. I'll happily put that up against Obama in the November because I think that we are better than that.

At least that's my hope.

I'm Done

I smell, I have not shaved in several days, and I've gained approximately five pounds from the junk I've been eating for two weeks, but finals are finally finished. Assuming I pass everything, I am officially 1/2 a lawyer. And now I'm retiring for the evening with a few cocktails and a "Designing Women" marathon on TV Land. Damn, I'm old!

Damn, I Hate White People.

There's really nothing like finals to get me writing about anything and everything but the law. And no, I don't really hate white people...most of the time. It's just that lately it seems every day I encounter an incident of such monumental asshattery that it makes me want to resign. I would too, if only I could figure out to whom I should give my letter. The British Empire? Strom Thurmond's ghost? Bob Saget? The mind boggles.

So I took a break this evening from the copyrighting of crop circles to go indulge in some tortilla-wrapped deliciousness at Qdoba. With extra guac because I am so far beyond giving a damn that I now outweigh not giving a damn by a good five pounds. The line is long, and I'm passing the time by trying to ignore the deeply dull but entirely normal conversation of the two twenty-something frat guy stereotypes (and face it, I ought to know from stereotypes). I place my order with the really friendly counter guy, who happens to be African American. The boys behind me stop their normal conversation, and apparently at the point of stepping up to order, one of them had his body possessed by Eminem because he proceeded to turn to the counter guy and practically yell, "'sup!" in a manner that convinced me his sidekick was going to start beatboxing. True, boys of all races use that term in greeting. Hip-hop culture is the predominate youth culture. These weren't those kids. This tool changed his accent to greet the black guy, and seemed to think it made him quite cool, like they were having a moment relating to one another right there at the Qdoba. I almost apologized to Nice Counter Guy on behalf of white folks with half a brain.

To his credit, Nice Counter Guy greeted them back with only the most subtle hint of sarcasm in his voice that suggested he was thinking, "You are such a douche that if you were on American Idol, the audience would keep Vanilla Ice and send your ass home." Seriously, white guys who are kind of tool-ish, why do you do that? Why, when you encounter a black man, do you suddenly start acting like an American tourist in France who is trying to get the waiter to practice the phrases they got from the Fast French cassette tape on the plane over? They can understand you just fine the way you normally talk, and don't need for you to show them how down you are. Because in case you didn't know, you're not. Asshole.

I swear, every day I'm more amazed that there hasn't been a gory bloody revolution in this country with people out there acting a fool.

On the Runway

I just have one thing to say about last night's challenge on The Greatest Show on Television, "Project Runway."



Who the hell let Gordon Gartrelle on the show?!



Denise Huxtable, you may have finally found your calling.


Today's foolish joke courtesy of Trading Faces spouse Craiggers, who will only sit through Project Runway on the promise that there will be male models featured in their underwear.

The Cheese

So I've been trying to get inspired again to write. My writing has always been cyclical anyway, and law school seems to have sucked out whatever regular creativity I once had. But since it is finals time again, and since I'm working to avoid thinking about finals, I thought The Cheese might be a good way to get me started again.

The theme of today's Cheese is dance singers who can't dance. There's no rhythm nation here, y'all. Bless their hearts, if it weren't for the shawls, wind machines, backup dancers, distracting gold hot pants and quick cut editing, you'd see this gals for the flat-footed disco-challenged divas they really are. Thankfully, if we squint really hard, we can pretend their steps live up to the songs. Your mama can't dance, and neither can...

Stevie Nicks




Kylie Minogue



My adopted daughter, Whitney Houston



The woman, the legend, Cher

In fairness, she's not so bad, she should just NEVER dance next to Tina Turner.

Franklin Says Eff You

While waiting for Westlaw to come back online so I can do my much-delayed law review project (I’d go to LexisNexis, but our Westlaw rep is a temptress with those prize points she offers…damn you, you tanorexic siren offering up your cappuccino machines in exchange for my legal research loyalty!), my kitty Franklin wandered into my office. As usual, he got up on his hind legs and tapped me three times with his paw, indicating that I should stop whatever I’m doing and scratch him immediately. I turned to him, and to my surprise, he hopped up on my lap. He never does that. I was soon disappointed to learn that this was not a father’s day show of affection. He proceeded to hop from my lap to the desktop, using my testicles as a springboard, and started typing. Apparently he is pissed off about all of my law school friends who are adopting dogs and posting their puppy pictures on Facebook. Franklin is generally pissed about Facebook anyway, but this dog trend really has him riled up, and he's determined to convince my friend Ms. Watson to change her adoption plans. The following is what he had to say, typed at 75 w.p.m. with full ALWD-format citations (which I deleted because no one actually uses ALWD…I won’t have people thinking my pet doesn’t know how to properly cite legal authority). I apologize in advance for his potty mouth.



“I have something to say to all of you people on this Interweb thing with your puppy fever. Eff you!

Why you people think puppies are so damned special is beyond me. I don’t understand why people with a lot of dogs are animal lovers, but a nice cat lady gets called crazy by her condo board as they screw her over. The fact is, puppies have no dignity. They piss in the floor and don’t even have the decency to cover it up. They beg for leftover food instead of demanding their own plate. They come to you when called, like they’re Naomi Campbell’s assistant trying to avoid a beatdown. That’s pathetic.

I am over each and every one of you. Not that I wasn’t over you already, mind you, but all this puppy talk is the last straw. Ms. Watson, my person says you are reasonable, so I will assume you are despite his frequent bad judgment. Here are five reasons for you to consider as to why cats are far superior to dogs.

1. You won’t get a sunburn because we will never ask to be walked in the park. Granted, that means won’t get you laid with some other dog walker, but having seen people sex, I think it is safe to say that everyone involved is happier sitting quietly on the couch watching television and drinking alone.

2. Cats will not chew up your shoe collection. This is because all cats are gay, and gays have inherent respect for shoes. We will poop in your Crocs, but you and I both know you have that coming.

3. A common cat complaint is that we have a tendency to rub against you, covering you in our fur when you are dressed up and about to leave the house. Please understand, we don’t do this to be annoying. We do it because what you’re wearing is terrible. It is for your own good. Change your outfit…you’ll thank us for it when the rest of your office isn’t calling you a dirty road whore behind your back.

4. Yes, we are aloof. Dogs are indeed friendlier than cats. You know who else is friendly? George W. Bush. He is also dumber than a tube sock full of marbles. Friendly is highly overrated.

5. You are a lazy s.o.b. We respect that. I personally spend 23.25 hours per day sleeping, and I’m proud of it. You want to sleep in? Fine by me. I won’t judge you, and what’s more, I won’t wake you up yapping to be fed or let out of the house. In fact, I won’t ever even ask to be let out of the house. Outside is dirty, hot, and frankly only fit for a dog.

Ms. Watson, clearly you should get a cat instead of joining all of these pod people with their cutesy profile pictures starring a smelly pathetic canine. Cats rule. That is all. And now if you will excuse me, it is time for my nap. Besides, my person tends to get all twitchy if he’s away from his computer gossip and pornography for more than a few minutes, and he is already getting on my last good nerve.

Most sincerely,

Roosevelt Franklin"

They tried to make me go to rehab

Lindsay Lohan's lawyer took her to check into Promises spa, I mean "rehabilitation" facility after her arrest for DUI on Saturday. That's the same place where Brit Brit stayed after shaving her head, so I'm sure this will totally be successful. All I'm saying is that if I'm going $80,000 into law school debt to spend my career taking spoiled panty-free rich girls to fake rehab, I'm quitting now while I'm ahead. Who needs an education for that? I could probably just say "subject matter jurisdiction" around those girls every few sentences, and they would just assume I'm a lawyer anyway.



I'm waiting for the inevitable day trips out to Fred Segal and The Ivy during Lohan's "recovery." I saw that the last time she was in rehab, and I wondered whatever happened to the good old days when your oil baron spouse could take you to rehab where they lock your crazy ass up until you resort to selling your pearls to a creepy orderly for a mouthwash bottle full of bathtub gin? At this rate, Lindsay is never going to get to see Southfork again.

C-U-Next-Tuesday

I adore Rosie O'Donnell. Even in her abrasiveness, I think she is a good-hearted person who feels passionately about so many of the issues I care about. I also think Elizabeth Hasselbeck is a moron. I could respect her views while disagreeing with them if she wasn't so vapid, spewing whatever talking points she heard on conservative radio that morning rather than contributing an idea of her own. That said, they both have some boundary issues, and someone needs to fill those mugs up with a big old glass of shut the hell up.

Their latest dust-up is all over the blogs, and it is a doozy. If I were Baba Wawa, I would suspend both of them for acting so unprofessional, AND I would make them polish all my diamond shoes, clean the marble lap pool in my bathroom, and rub my bunions every night for a month because I'm Baba Wawa, dammit! Their behavior wasn't surprising, though. Neither was the response on the gay blogs. As soon as a female conservative with a rather nasty point of view surfaces in the gay media, commenters on the blogs pull out the "C" word. And I for one am sick of that view.

Seriously, this is not acceptable, people. The "C" word is the sexist version of Faggot (and yes, I use that one...I got called it from the time I was six, it took me 20 years to fight back against it, and by golly I own that word!). If we really want people to take us seriously when we bitch about bigotry, we have to look at ourselves first. After all, so many gay folks are progressive, and so many others are some of the biggest bigots you will ever meet.

A couple of weeks ago, I was getting my wig split at the same Fantastic Sam's I always go to (because I'm cheap and I don't have much hair). Instead of the hot Middle Eastern man I like, they gave me to this tanorexic over-processed blond queen who had effed up my stuff the last time I was there. I decided to give him another chance. So we're chatting, and I'm telling him about how I quit my job and went back to school because you know I don't shut up about all that. He tells me his dream was to quit doing hair and become a vet tech because animal welfare is so important to him, especially dogs. I asked him if he had heard the awful story about the NFL player busted with 75 dogs he'd been training to fight, all of which were horribly abused. He leaned forward all conspiratorily and whispered, "Was he black?"

Set aside the fact of what the hell difference does that make. Why would he think I would approve of that comment? That's the thing with racists...they think that all white folks are part of their "club." The gay white racists are the worst about that "club" business, as though being in such an exclusive group, one that gets dumped on as well, gives us the right to exclude others in the same manner. I'm not proud of the fact that I didn't go off on him, though in my defense, my hair was half cut and he had a pair of scissors around my head. I suppose my face said it all because he changed the subject immediately.

I left that salon wondering what I should have said. I hate for someone to lose a job, but he knew what he was doing was racist, otherwise he wouldn't have leaned in and whispered it to me. It weighed on me for a couple of weeks before I finally wrote in to their corporate headquarters and reported him. It's a tough economy, and business people need to realize that racism is not acceptable. Plus this bitch made the same mistake as last time, resulting in another month of an Opie Taylor cowlick on the side of my damn head, so you know he needs to go!

My point here, and I do have one, is that gay folks often shoot themselves in the foot, demanding equality one minute, and dividing up along racial, gender, and class lines the next to exclude others. Getting called a faggot as a kid and not having equal rights as an adult does not give me the right to call a woman the "C" word, no matter how rancid Hasselbeck is. Go after her because she is dumber than a box of hammers. Say that eating bugs on "Survivor" does not qualify her to be spokesmodel for the Republican Party (and it isn't like their standards are all that high these days!). Just don't start throwing around words that reduce a woman to her genitals, the implication of which has always been that her genitals are all she is worth. It is sexist, it is beneath us, and frankly, we're supposed to be a bit more creative than all that.

Diabeetis

Franklin has been taking an odd interest in my mail lately. I didn't think much of it until this afternoon.



When the mailman came today, Franklin let me know that I could be saving a lot by getting all my testing supplies from Liberty Medical, and that they would even bill Medicare for me.



I tried to explain to him that I'm not diabetic, but he just waddled away mumbling about Quaker Oatmeal and Shannon Doherty.

How Cheap Are You?

During finals, most law students don't have time for much of anything but law school. To relax at law finals time, my pal Cooper dates hot boys and touches himself. I go to Target. Also, since most of us in law school are going to be Sally Mae's bitches for quite a few years, we don't have a lot of cash to spare. Needless to say, when I see the dented and dinged clearance items on the endcaps at Target, I get quite excited and load up my cart.



That said, even I have a limit to my cheapness. Some things should probably be purchased when they're in prime condition.



I'm fairly certain there is some sort of tort duty you take on when you buy clearance condoms. You'd think my torts professor would have warned us about that. I just hope it isn't on my torts exam (the last of my five grueling final exams!!!) Friday.

I should note that I do load up on things I use regularly. Just last week, I bought a gigantic package of paper towels and several sticks of antiperspirant. But let's face it...no one in law school is having enough sex to justify buying prophylactics in bulk, no matter how good the deal. We don't have the time, and we tend to make adverse possession jokes in bed. Law school may be the perfect form of safe sex...the Radical Right should require teaching 1st year law classes in grade school.

You've got to know how this hurts.

Star Jones, you look...nice.



I'm glad you finally let your gay husband pick out your clothes.

Oh come on, you didn't really think I was going to not say it, did you?

Postcard From the Edge

Having a horrible time...wish you were here!

Greetings friends,

Well, it seems that the world is going to hell in a handbasket all around us. Don Imus is a bigot who finally got called out on it. The Middle East is blowing up. There's only one person left in America who doesn't think Global Warming is real, and unfortunately he is some yokel in the White House. Danilynn finally has a daddy. And I couldn't care less.

That's right y'all, it is final exam time again! I start the fun on April 25 at 9am, and continue through Oaks Day. For non-Louisvillians, that is the racing day at Churchill Downs the day before Derby...this time of year, we measure everything by Derby. But there will be no Derby fun for the law students of Louisville. No, we only get contracts and civil procedure and property and criminal law and torts (oh my!). I'll have a three-hour written exam every other weekday for a week and a half, each of which is my entire grade in the class. Whose damn idea was this law school business anyway?!

So, excited as I am that Anna Nicole's baby is a fellow Louisvillian by way of the baby daddy, I need to get back to work. I hope to either get some inspiration this summer after I've taken most of this semester off. In the meantime, I leave you with some of what is playing on the background of my beloved computer, Ms. Maybelline Macbook.

If you haven't heard this, I'm thinking perhaps you should get out more. It was recommended by Trading Faces reader Denise, and the entire album has been on near constant play here for a month.
Amy Winehouse, "Rehab" (live at the Brit Awards)



Erasure used to be one of my favorites, but they haven't put out anything really compelling in years, at least not until this month. This is the lead single off their upcoming album, and one of the sweetest love songs I've heard in ages.
Erasure, "I Could Fall In Love With You"



Finally, here is an old favorite dance artist who has put out a stomping remake of an old Pointer Sisters hit. And the bonus is a TOTALLY SEXY video (Ces, for your own good, please don't click play!).
Ultra Nate', "Automatic"


Oh, and we would like you to know that new Trading Faces kitty is settling in nicely.



However, he still can't be bothered with you.

The Break-Up

Dear Andy,

I think the time has come to face facts that our relationship isn't working. While my love for you runs deep, not even all the Gloria Vanderbilt jeans I could ever wear are enough to put up with your internalized homophobia any longer. Your reaction, or lack thereof, at being named the 2nd most powerful gay in the U.S. by Out Magazine perplexes me. I mean, I was thrilled at just being a powerful gay by proxy of being your secret boyfriend!

Instead of taking me out to celebrate, you got on that damn cell phone with Jodie Foster, knowing that she and I aren't speaking since I made that innocent comment about her walking like a trucker in her Oscars gown last month. While I was trying to get us reservations at Nobu, the two of you were whining about how could they do that to you when you aren't even out. I have news for the two of you: Out is right. You and Jodie live totally in the open without actually saying the word gay. You are out, and it is legitimate to say it in the press. In a world where we report that Jake Gyllenhal and Reese Witherspoon are secretly dating just because they're seen out at dinner together, but don't report on Jodie's partner when they're out on the beach with their kids holding hands, the message is still that there is something wrong with being gay. How is one of those things legitimate celebrity news and one isn't? I simply don't get how it is acceptable to make inferences into the life of someone based on dinner, but it isn't acceptable to comment on the completely obvious, unless of course you really believe that the obvious thing is shameful.

Andy, you say you won't talk about your private life, but then you go and ask poor Kenny Chesney about his orientation in an interview. You know about Kenny...we were on the same lane as him in the Rainbow Bowling League last week! And if you don't talk about your private life, why were you hawking a book about your grief over your brother's suicide? That seems far more personal than who you date. Sweetie, you are more than a bit of a hypocrite, and the argument that you'd be viewed as less credible with your personal life known is ridiculous. I know more about Katie Couric's personal life than I ever wanted to know. I've seen that woman's damn colon, and she got made a network anchor!

I love your gray gardens, but I can't live with the shame any longer. Let's try to remain friends, okay?

Christopher

(cue music)