Archive for April, 2011
I’ve heard from all of my blood family and, with the exception of some property loss and damage, everyone is ok after yesterday’s devastating storms.
Now for you blog family — let us know you’re ok — ok?
‘Ball-peen hammer’ still makes me giggle just like I did when I was a kid and discovered nekkid boobies and buttfronts in my parents’ National Geographic magazines.
No – not our dear friend — but, well yes, our dear friend.
The very last of all of the typewriter factories in all of the world still bangin’ out the original QWERTY closed its doors this week … and the J-school nerd in me must admit to being more than just a little saddened by the news. 😦
Godrej and Boyce has put the eraser sheild on its doors, permamently jammed the typebar on production and backspaced out of business at its plant in Mumbai, India.
Long obsolete in the West, typewriters were quite common in India until recently when consumers there went all 21st-Century and began making the switch to computers. The company’s general manager, Milind Dukle, told India’s Business Standard newspaper: ‘We are not getting many orders now.’
But I mean, of course, it had to happen.
It was inevitable.
This is march of time, sands in the hourglass stuff here.
And, like Octomom’s 15 minutes, Prince William’s hair or my sobriety — nothing lasts forever.
But it still makes me sad to think of an inkless per-character keypress world, so I think I’m gonna find that box in the attic, dust off the Underwood Five and get my Shift Return Clickety-Clack on until the sun goes down, it’s time for bed and I can put this dark day behind me.
Maybe it’s the overexposure.
Maybe it’s the unruly fanbase.
Maybe it’s just all the lies and alibis.
I don’t know.
But what I DO know I was headed full-tilt toward SO OVER HER HERMIE ASS this week for yankin’ the chain of The Yank himself over the purported pièce de résistance of his forthcoming album.
Lady Blah Blah’s ‘camp’ has been puttin’ the cold kibosh on Weird Al’s parody of ‘Born This Way’, saying bitch would have to do what no other artist has ever asked when selected as the source of some serious satire — her betterthaneveryoneelseness would have to listen to’I Perform This Way’ herself in order to give it her genetically furtive seal of approval.
So, he took a quick mo to bang out the lyrics and sent them to her team.
“She actually needs to hear it. Otherwise the answer is no.”
She’s been famous for, what, like 17 minutes and 30 seconds and she pulls this shit? Ugh.
Now, keep in mind that under fair use laws, W.A.Y has the legal right to release the raunch without her rubber-stamping the song, but that’s just not how he rolls.
“Because of his own personal ethics regarding intellectual property, he won’t do it. At least, not for money. He was going to donate the income from the song to the Human Rights Campaign as it is,” a Businessinsider.com story states.
So he released the lyrics on YouTube this week … for free. As you might guess, you can just queue the Weird Al Fan Frenzy and sit back and watch what you know is coming next.
Music-mix quotes Al’s blog this morning, writing “Gaga’s manager has now admitted that he never forwarded my parody to Gaga—she had no idea at all. Even though we assumed that Gaga herself was the one making the decision (because, well, that’s what we were TOLD), he apparently made the decision completely on his own. He’s sorry. And Gaga loves the song.”
But the colossal dumbassery of this mess does underscore the obvious, which is that Weird Al will long outlast the Lady Caca’s, Madonna’s and other self-superior meatheads who think they ARE the music biz.
Rock on man — I’m hittin’ ‘White and Nerdy’ on the clickwheel now 🙂
Now, I can freely admit that if I had read this shit on Fkdupdad’s Messed Up Parenting Tips blog, I’d have probably laughed until I peed myself or something because he’d put his usual HAHAHATHAT’SSOMEFUCKEDUPSHITHAHAHA type of spin on it and it would seem like something every parent should get on the ball and start doing, like, YESTERDAY.
Except I didn’t read it there.
And it’s not something every parent should start doing ANY day.
But it IS a 100% pure example of actual, real-world messed up parenting of Olympic Gold Medal winning proportions.
Seems Washington couple Captain Duh and the Wonder Wench over there thought it would just be a super slice of OK! to cage two 5- and 7-year-old boys.
“Because they are autistic, it’s the only way to contain them,” said Alayna Higdon, who is not the biological mother of either caged child but does live in the apartment with their father, her son from another relationship and their 11-month old baby.
“What am I supposed to do, let them run around the house and get into everything? What kind of [expletive] parenting is that?'”
Father Failure of the Year candidate John Eckhart said.
Uhh, the fucked up kind?!?
Child Protective Services received a complaint and responding patrol officers found two of four children in the apartment locked in a bedroom tricked out with a sadly singular and definitely dirty mattress but missing those extra little luxuries like blankets, clothes and toys — and, oh yeah, one other teensy weensy thing — the door had been removed and replaced with a cage-like door, restricting access to the rest of the apartment.
One of the officers investigating wrote, “as I got close to the cage to take photographs, the children came close to me and were reaching their arms through to try and grab on to me. They were both making moaning noises and they tapped their fingers together through the holes between the metal bars. When I got close to them, I could smell a strong odor of urine coming from their diapers.”
Sounds like someone forgot just ALL about the kids in the kennel …. but you know, caring for anyone at any age with any type of special need can be just an exceptionally difficult and trying challenge — depending on the challenge — and so, you know, I’d like to give the bad mom and dad a bit of a break on this outrageous set of infractions … except, according to the police reports, they seem to have come up short on one crucial component that might have compelled The Cookie, who is herself Aunt to an outstanding (and yes, autistic) nephew, to cut the corrupt couple a break:
WHERE’S THE ‘CARE’?!?
Well, now it’s ‘Foster’ – that’s where.