The jackasses living in West Hollywood hung a Sarah Palin mannequin from a noose in front of their home and burn a John McCain likeness in a chimney. Yeah, that's art...Not. It's disrespectful, inappropriate and should be considered a hate crime, according to the definition of hate crimes. What? You don't see any violation against Palin and McCain based on race, religion, sexual orientation or ethnicity? Because they're not black, gay or Jewish? Has it been proven that this display is not based on hate of white heterosexual Christians?
Sheriffs say the whackness is alright because it's part of a Halloween display, which doesn't make it a hate crime. So, am I good if I want to set a cross on fire in a circle of white hooded figures on my lawn around Halloween? How about hanging an Obama figure from noose on my tree tomorrow? It's art. It's Halloween creativity at its best. No problems. That is so totally FUBAR.
Of course I have no desire or intention to do these things. But if I did, how fast would I see Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton postulating in front of my house, followed by their bus loads of protesters and obedient liberal media posse? Probably within the hour.
How would the gay dudes who live at this West Hollywood house like it if their neighbors hung figures dressed in rainbow pride clothes from their roofs? All in the spirit of Halloween, of course.
Why is this insanity tolerated so well by the majority? Does something cross the ethical line only if it offends a minority group? I'm so sick of the anything goes attitude in this country today. We are so twisted in our interpretation of freedom of expression. It's true what they say about the squeaky wheel getting greased. It's time for a different wheel to squeak, America. Stop spooning us bullshit. That is all.
Situation: I do love the Deal or No Deal show but Howie Mandel's stupid commentary is insufferable.Do you watch Deal? If so, how to you deal with the host's moronic chirping to the contestants? Let me explain. Nearly every show, the contestant has whittled away at the big dollar amounts on the case board and stands there, wringing hands on national television about to piss it all away, when Howie invariably asks, "Susan, there are three cases left including yours. One contains the million dollars. You need to open one case. How will you feel if you eliminate the million?"
WTF? How do you think she'll feel? She'll feel like a complete clown and want to vomit on her feet as she runs off stage hysterically crying, if she's anything like me. This kind of stating the obvious chitter chatter in the slowest possible manner to "amp the drama" torks me too much to watch the show anymore.
I end up mouthing off at the TV screen like an angry little woman. As you can imagine, this behavior isn't helping anyone, least of all my blood pressure which is already elevated from screaming at the contestants to, "TAKE THE DEAL!". Why do they always push it one case too far? Oh well, who am I to judge?
Wait a minute! This is Diva Cosmos where judgmental commentary is not only preferred, but a fine tuned skill. So along those lines, let's talk about that soul patch. It's not a good look for you to rock, Howie. With the silly fist bumping and somewhat phobic demeanor, 'smooth' just doesn't come to mind with Howie Mandel. And smoothness is a requirement for soul patches.
Anywhoos, I think I've found a good solution for myself. I watched the show with the volume muted and found it much more enjoyable. If I can just resist the urge to read lips, I should be good to go.
- Humiliation: The hives appear at the most inopportune times. I got free tickets to the grand opening of The Laugh Factory from a friend who works security there. A mere 15 minutes before we arrived, my scalp tingled, my neck flushed hot. Filthy red welts erupted on my face and neck - so attractive. People do tend to shy away from you when you have such things on your face. I think it suggests a degree of contagiousness.
- Insanity: The itch of these hives could very well drive me mad. They itch so intensely that I harm myself trying to stop the torment. I squeeze the rubbery welts between my fingers to make them go numb. Too bad one was close to my carotid artery and I almost fainted. I stab them with my fingernails to give myself another sensation besides the bloody itching. Lately, during the peak of the itching curve I burst out in hapless giggles, which worries me a little.
- Expense: I am now a constant Benadryl customer. Not too expensive and well worth the price, but an extra cost just the same.
I am not sure who has done this to me, but I do have a cagey coworker in mind. I recently revoked her refrigeration privileges in the lunch room because she repeatedly harvested colonies of mold on rotting old left-overs. By the way, why is it so hard to just throw your old food away? This, I have never understood.
Anyway, this particular coworker came up behind me a few weeks ago, touched my back and said, "There! You had some hairs on your shirt." So that's how it's done, isn't it? Snatch a few hairs and commence with the hocus pocus?
Well, fine, girlie. I'll have you know that not all is lost. I do get one pleasure out of my hives. When two or more are close together, it's great fun to watch them merge into one gigantic super welt. So there! Take that. And watch your back for stray hairs. Or just buy your own mini fridge.