Honking Donkey

To the donk who laid on the horn for a full 30 seconds as I let someone merge into traffic jammed Pacific Coast Highway from the In and Out parking lot: It's the holiday season you undeniable tool. Spare 10 seconds for your fellow man and LET PEOPLE MERGE INTO LANES already. For your bad behavior, I hope your karmic punishment includes at least two of the following: a spectacular toe stub (of the pinkie) on your way to the bathroom in the hours of darkness, nuclear intestinal gas once you get there, a carpool lane violation ticket the next morning or a rogue nose hair noticeable to everyone but you as you lay on the rico suave to your date. The End. *thumbs nose at said donkey*

My Home Owners Association Sucks Donkey Balls

Yes, you read right, my HOA sucks donkey balls. I'm sorry if you have virgin ears (eyes?), but there's really no other way to describe it. Granted, it's quite common among my condo-owning friends to hear HOA complaints. I'm not delusional about HOAs, thinking they really are the caring, responsible property management companies they claim to be. Oh hells no. But my particular HOA is in a class all its own.

Where to start. The dues are astronomical. My one-bedroom 900 sq. ft. condo owes $411 monthly. Hot damn! (I've been waiting for a chance to say that.) I live in Southern California where everything is overpriced, but that is pushing it. I am trapped here because I would take a loss selling right now and the HOA has wisely imposed yet another 20% increase for us beginning January 1st. That's the maximum increase allowed each year and they've made full use of it for three years in a row. Hot DAMN! In a time when people cannot even afford to buy extra underwear, it's so appreciated to choke off another $100 to the fascist HOA.

Anyhoos, my main gripe is the insidious ways they go about making extra money. We have a cornucopia of rules with new violations announced in every monthly newsletter. This month? The speed trap. That's right folks, the HOA security staff has radar guns. Radar guns. The speed limit in our complex and underground garage is 15 mph. Have you ever driven 15 mph? It's.......very..................slow.

I can't think of a worse combination than civilian security guards and radar guns. These guys are extreme wanna be police officers and now they're armed with radar guns. It wasn't enough to install speed bumps high as ant hills at angles so that your car axles jar four times instead of two. No. Now we have radar soldiers who I am sure are fully engaged in ticketing contests. It's as close to arrests as they'll ever get, well at least on the giving side.

So, when I get my radar gun speed ticket I'm going to tell him he sucks donkey balls. I've put a lot of thought into this and I think that's the most insulting thing I can say without threatening his life or using my potty mouth.

Those of you not yet in the vise grips of an HOA, save yourselves. Rent, buy a house or just live in your car. Nothing's worse than the wrath of an HOA scorned.

Rosie O'Donnell's Back : NBC Television is on Crack.

Rosie O'Donnell's obnoxious pie hole will be barking dim-witted opinions and crude blaps on the NBC airwaves weekly starting November 23rd. Well that's just great. I'd rather pour salt in my eye than see her on TV again.

Rosie O'Donnell is a human migraine headache with ocular disturbances. She's professed some of the dumbest opinions I've ever heard from an adult. Remember her 9/11 conspiracy theory based on her belief that the building collapses were the first time that steel has ever melted? Hilarious. I still wonder how she thinks steel is made. DUMB ASS.

All this foulness wrapped in a messy slobadelic package gets you another TV show? NBC is on crack. The same kind of tired controversy can only make love to ratings so many times. She says her comedy will be like Carol Burnett with Ed Sullivan type variety. Please. That's blasphemous. Carol Burnett is so organically funny and genuinely classy. Rosie is like a fart. It's funny the first few times, but after a short while it's just stinky, loud and disgusting.

Barney Frank Needs an Ass Whipping and Speech Therapy, Too

Barney Frickin Frank is on CNN again tonight talking about all the pwoblems with the U.S. economy and blaming Pwesident Bush for everything that happened while Barney Frank himself was Chairman of the House Financial Services Committee. This congressman is a total cartoon. He needs to go stand in the corner and think about his own role in the financial collapse of America instead of blaming evwyone else for the financial threats his committee should have protected us against.

Man up, Barney. Wait, he probably takes that saying too literally. Ugh.

Jennifer Hudson's Brother in Law William Balfour Looks Like the Boogie Man

Damn. If I saw this walking toward me, I would cross the street. But how about waking up next to him? Would you scream? That would be pretty hard if he's stepping on your throat. I know you shouldn't judge a book by its cover, but this cover suggests a murder mystery's inside. Oh, wait...

Hanging Palin Halloween Display Legal Reaction Proves USA is Insane

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.

Howie Mandel is a Tool. NO DEAL.

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.

John Edwards Joins Lying Bastard Brigade with Rielle Hunter Affair

John Edwards ding dong ditched the rumors and direct questions about an alleged affair with his campaign aid Rielle Hunter from mid 2007 all the way until today when he admitted he did in fact dabble in her honey pot, BUT he didn't love her and his wife's cancer was in remission at the time. Oh good, that really makes all the difference. Those two conditional statements make the reveal even more humiliating for Elizabeth Edwards. How despicable.

Big bad John spoke to ABC news correspondent Bob Woodruff in an interview airing on Nightline tonight about the affair with 44-year-old Hunter that began in 2006. Interesting he chose to disclose the day the Olympics open in China. Hoping for some shelter from the media storm, John? Doesn't seem to be playing out that way.

Now the fun really begins for cynics like me. All the networks are playing sound bites of Edwards saying morally upstanding things that are now painfully ironic. Even the interview Rielle Hunter (formerly Lisa Druck who wanted to sound Hollywood and invented a new name for herself) gave in 2007 to Extra takes on a whole new read between the lines meaning, as does her strange grin throughout the video. The affair had been a year-long diddy at that time. Let me also say her headband looks dumb. In the video with Extra she says her experience "working" with Edwards was life altering. He was so "willing to try new things" and "so open". Yes, well, apparently it was she who was very open. Tramp.

Let's face it, the other woman is just as much to blame as the douche bag man cheater, if not more. Men think with their tools and if the woman says no, that's the end of it. But she said yes, repeatedly it seems.

So now we have mental images of John Edwards cowering in a basement bathroom at the Beverly Hilton Hotel last month, holding the door closed as reporters asked what he was doing there at 2:00 a.m. Presumably kissing Rielle Hunter goodnight, who was a guest of the hotel that night.

The side story on this is of course the lack of coverage from the mainstream media and accusations of how much more publicity the story would have gotten had the adulterer been a republican politician. I'd like to think it was consideration for Mrs. Edwards' health that discouraged media attention. But that's probably naive. Since when is the media concerned with anyone's health and well-being.

Anyway, now that we have a full circle mess, we can expect that Rielle Hunter will get rich from books, movies and interviews. I am guessing we will have to endure a press conference held by Edwards with his wife holding his hand and perhaps saying a few words of forgiveness. Another political wife swallowing shit for her husband and smiling through humiliation.

Look what you did, John Edwards, you lying bastard. So maybe your chances of being invited onto Obama's ticket are over. You'll get some advice from Bill Clinton, the White House gigolo, and be just fine as you leave a wake of ruin behind for your family. Sometimes men suck.

Jesse Jackson is a Blowhard Who Wants Obama's Nuts

So Barack Obama calls for male blacks to man up and take responsibility for their children beyond conception and the Reverend Jesse Jackson says he wants to cut Obama's nuts off for talking down to black people. Right.

Every time Jesse Jackson opens his mouth I want to shut it. Why is this man so revered in the African American community and courted by the media? Black people, can you explain this? Jesse Jackson has now positioned his well-kissed ass in front of Obama's momentum by once again rehashing his tired cry of "Black people get no respect. Stop talking down to us." The only thing worse than listening to Jesse Jackson rant is having Al Sharpton chime in with him on the same show....which is just around the corner, I'm sure.

I think this is a simple case of president envy. Jackson, having unsuccessfully sought the Democratic nomination twice in the 80s, can't stand watching Obama's moment. Apparently he wants to take both his AND Obama's balls and go home.

Can you imagine if John McCain had said he wants to castrate Obama or Lou Dobbs whispered wanting to slice Hillary Clinton's tits off for something she said? Oh the fodder! Cries of racism, sexism and termination from employment ring through the air!

Mr. Jackson was upfront and center demanding Don Imus' termination when he called black female athletes, "nappy headed hoes". And yes Don Imus is an ass and a really bad dresser, but how come no one's calling for Jackson to disappear? Because he and Obama have the same skin color so asinine statements don't instantly morph into "racism"?

So Jackson's apology tour is coming to a network near you. Oh lord it's only a matter of time before Sharpton and Jackson yap on together about how a deeper meaning rooted in the struggle of black people in this country was really behind Jackson's idiotic statement. White people don't understand.

No Jesse Jackass, you don't understand. Obama is right. Black fathers toss their children by the wayside often enough for them to have their very own nickname. And please don't cry to me about all the Baby Daddy's in prison. They put themselves in there. What's that Rev. Jackson? They're in prison because they lacked positive role models during childhood? Oh, right, because they're dads blew them off, like Obama's saying. Maybe you should cut their nuts off.

Lindsay Lohan to Emmy: Thanks but No Thanks, Emmy: Huh?

Lindsay Lohan's cart was out in front of the horse this week when she withdrew her name from Emmy consideration. For her four-line appearance on "Ugly Betty". The Diva (me, not her) is not amused...well, maybe a little amused in a guffaw and teeth sucking kind of way.

Is this noble or obnoxious or just plain meaningless Lohan drama? "All of the above" is an acceptable answer, by the way. When you withdraw your name from consideration of anything, you do so because you don't want to win. And you make this effort because you are fairly convinced you will win, right? Otherwise there's no point.

So I'm going with obnoxiously meaningless drama. Saying thanks but no thanks to Emmy means you must have something to be thankful for in the first place. How hilarious is it that Lindsay Lohan would think she's on track for an Emmy for nano seconds of face time? Hil-Frickin-Larious.

Is this the blissful self image you spawn once you're swallowed up by the land of milk and honey? How sweet it must be to sit yourself down and really try to minimize all that adoration coming your way in hopes of evening up the playing field for those in your shadow. I can't type that sentence without the circus big tent theme playing in my head.

I think it's totally fantasmic to do such a thing! Just leave your name alone. Lindsay's minimal guest role on Ugly Betty couldn't possibly have clenched a nomination let alone the win. No, it's much better to draw droves of attention to yourself and your altruistic nature by following in Katherine Heigl's footsteps of mercy and deference to those more deserving.

Burp.

Thong Assault Law Suit: Thongs Behaving Badly Part I

If your underwear doesn't fit, do not acquit...fire off a law suit! Marcrida Patterson, 52, filed a law suit in Los Angeles today against her killer thong. She alleges her Victoria's Secret thong launched a metallic decoration at her eye as she attempted to navigate her 52-year-old onion into it. Straight off, Marcrida you are about a decade beyond legal thong-wearing age, okaaay? This situation could have been avoided had you chosen age appropriate booty wear.

Butt, what's done is done, so here we go. Marcrida claims the decoration shot off the thong and damaged her cornea as she was stretching putting it on. Hey, I'd be thankful the piece didn't fly up her hoo ha. Yowch! Of course eye damage is no laughing matter. What is HILARIOUS is how she will be demonstrating the injury in court. I might just take a day off to go watch this trial. Screeetch! Wait a minute, who am I kidding here?

There won't be any trial. How much do you think Victoria's Secret will settle for out of court? I say $50,000 - the complaint says damages will exceed $25,000. I know, I know, how can you put a price on cornea damage for god's sake? Well, who's going to compensate me for damage to my eyesight imagining this tard in a thong? I picture cinnamon rolls exploding out of their Pillsbury tube. I say we call it even.

So thanks, Marcrida, for sucking up my tax dollars on a silly lawsuit and for all the "warning" and "user instruction manuals" that will now be coming with underwear when I buy them at their new inflated prices. This is totally FUBAR.

Blog Troll Tool

Isn't this badge cute? A picture's worth a thousand words, right? RIGHT. Well, I've seen a thousand totally ridiculous posts on various social media discussion boards lately. Instead of taking time to eloquently explain, as so many do, how annoying these attention whores' posts are or how badly I wish some hyperactive users had pause buttons, here's a little troll graphic to paste right into threads that says it all so nicely.

Simple and to the point, with a dash of humiliation. Right click to download for yourself and join the troll patrol. Snap!

How Hillary Clinton Can Relax After Conceding

Whew! It's been a long, hard road that seems to be coming to an end tonight for Hillary Clinton. Campaigning is indeed stressful and that kind of pressure can surely take its toll mentally and physically. So, loving lists as I do, I've compiled one of several activities sure to help Hillary Clinton relax after conceding to Barack Obama. In descending order of relaxation:

• Ride a mechanical Bill bull.
• Get a tattoo. A classy "I'm in it to win it!" on her left boob would be a timeless reminder of campaign fun.
• Affix Maxi pads to some of the female senators' vehicles in the parking garage who didn't support her. (Trust me, this is BIG fun!)
• Get drunk on Two Buck Chuck. (Now Google Adsense will really think I'm an alcoholic.)
• Do some freestyle rapping at the local club under the stage name, "Hill-Rod". Be sure to incorporate the lyric, "Ima bust a cap in yo ass, O-Dog!" She already eluded to his assassination, so why not go there?
• Put on a thong. Pop and lock in front of a mirror and realize there are more terrible things than losing a nomination.
• Play air guitar to Santana's "Black Magic Woman". Oh wait, she didn't work any magic on the blacks. Reconsider that one.
• Get in line at Best Buy, fire off some silent but deadlies and share disgusted looks with others near you wondering who did that. *Bonus* Find a line with an old man it it.
• Go crazy shopping on QVC, ordering anti-wrinkle and hair care products. Ship them to Michelle Obama's house.
• Cut holes in the ass cheeks of a pantsuit and walk around the Capitol. When people stare, say, "Why are you tripping? I'm just pimping my pantsuit. Don't be a hater."
• Come to this blog and post a rant comment. Please include, "You want a piece of me?" somewhere in it.

Where I Declare War on Center Walkers

It often seems I am walking upstream on the sidewalk in my neighborhood shopping areas, dodging people left and right and saying 'sorry' or 'excuse me' when one of their bony elbows jabs me. Listen to me now: there are two kinds of people in this world, those who walk down the center and the others who move out of their way.

I am a mover. After 30 years of darting left and right, sometimes at great peril to my hot chocolate or coffee, it all ends tomorrow morning. In a few hours, I greet the new dawn as a center walker. I have a few failed attempts behind me, but thanks to a plastic tonight who forced me to walk clear around her, her puffy dog and the newspaper dispenser, I mean it this time.

It seems nasty stuff collects around the bottoms of newspaper machines, stuff like dog shit. And when you're wearing really cute Sailor Jerry Converse high tops with all those little hollow diamonds in the sole, you better just sit down with a toothbrush and get to work. Fuck you, Plastic. My whole closet smells like poop now, even after tooth brushing my sole all through American Idol.

It's on, center walkers. Tomorrow, I walk the line. I'm not moving to either side and I advise you to face down your own center walkers before you're rerouted into a pile of shit. I can't wait to walk down the street tomorrow like I own it, like a DIVA. I better get some sleep for the big day. Time to brush my teeth.

Why not subscribe? I stepped in poop, dammit.

Five Men Who Pinch Themselves

Do you ever wonder how ijits get so lucky? It happens under so many circumstances: the donkey playing rags sucks you out with trips on the river on Full Tilt Poker; the drunk driver creams a car, kills the victims and walks away with a broken toe into the loving arms of rehab; the welfare baby mama wins the state lottery; the boring dork gets his own talk show. Grrr.

That last one yanks my chain. I really want my own talk show. Since it always makes me feel better to take cheap shots at people anonymously online, here are five men who must surely pinch themselves each day in total disbelief at their luck. The winners in descending order of obnoxiousity:

1. Ryan Seacrest: Can you say overexposed? Say it with me: Over-effin-exposed! If this little boy and his funny pubescent hair show up on one more shitty reality show, I'm going to.....do nothing. Because the lamer among us think he's fantastic. He produces reality shows for skanks the Kardashians and Denise Richards, hosts American Idol and owns about 10 restaurants. He must be laughing his ass off.
2. Carson Daly: He looks like a monkey and he's not funny. Enough said. Jennifer Love, what were you thinking?
3. Howie Mandel: Where to start? He's a constant irritation on Deal. Repeating yourself and stating the obvious shouldn't earn you a salary to live large on. When I'm enjoying myself watching people piss away thousands of dollars, I don't want him cutting in with, "You're about to make a very big decision" three times before the commercial. And you are so not rocking the soul patch, Howie.
4. Furnell Chapman: This NBC anchorman has the worst comb-over known to man. If a woman news anchor has split ends she's fired. Actually, Grandpa Furnell's hair is more of a comb-around and up rather than a comb-over. Just shave the filth off.
5. Wolf Blitzer: CNN's anchor robot. Take speech lessons or someone load a jalapeno into his ass. Anderson Cooper could wiggle in there and do it. Please.

None of these people would be employed in my cosmos (except Anderson, he's a cute little moy!). They would have to clean litter boxes for food. Oh, try this for your cat boxes. It's the best! What do you think of my list?

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