I don't know anything about Bart Crow

His name (and logo) crossed my desk the other day. I'm sure Bart creates mellifluous tones and tunes that make the ladies swoon.

However, he might want to get a little tighter hold on his merch people, who've seen fit to slap his name on a T-shirt in a font that makes it look like his name is BARF CROW.

WE LOVE YOU, BARF!!

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Well, that's one way to detox and cleanse

Just Pukka all those bad things away.

Haiku of the day

Diesel fumes aside,
It's cozy beneath this bus
You've thrown me under

Thorough directions

Is it just me, or does 3. POUR INTO BOWL get a little bossy?

And who pours it into a bowl anyway? As you might be able to tell, Beau and I ate the popcorn straight out of the bag. LIKE HEATHENS DO IT!

I'm nine.

I don't care. GRIND YOUR OWN NUT BUTTER will always be funny.

Funny postscript to yesterday's Honey Boo Boo post

My friend Lora told me she uses online clips of Here Comes Honey Boo Boo as a tool to teach her seven-year-old daughter how not to behave.

Upon seeing the clips, she said “Mom, THAT show and THAT girl are ridiculous!”

And then she said that she was glad that her parents don’t act like that in public and especially on TV.

It's simultaneously sad and AWESOME that a seven-year-old is so much brighter and more mature than millions of American television viewers. :)

I can admit it

I watched about 10 minutes of Here Comes Honey Boo Boo.

And (though it breaks my heart) I understand why it's a hit.

It's the same reason people love to watch the gorillas at the zoo. They seem just a lot like you, but when you see them do something like playing with their own feces, you feel a bit superior (even though you know, deep down, that that huge gorilla/redneck could squash you like a bug in seconds flat and start playing with whatever oozes out of you).

Here's something else I've noticed lately.

For channels with names like Discovery and TLC (which is supposed to signify The LEARNING Channel), there is an alarming amount of subtitles for native speakers (including Honey Boo Boo's delicate flower of a mother). These are people born here to English-speaking parents who simply cannot speak in a manner that is understandable to most of the country.

And THAT, my friends is even more frightening than the popularity of Honey Boo Boo and the Kardashians put together (and don't think they're not pitching that project to executives right now).

This story is a little gross

But I'm going to tell it anyway.
Duh.

One of my male friends has a roommate. They're not really friends, it's pretty much just a financial agreement.

I should preface things by saying that these are two grown-ass men. Not college boys.

One day, the roommate approached my friend and said he was having trouble getting his cable hookup to work in his room. My friend walked in there to try to sort out the problem.

When he walked in, he was immediately accosted by roomie's... art.

This art consisted of FRAMED porn. Framed beaver shots, to get right down to it. I repeat, FRAMED. BEAVER. SHOTS.

To quote my friend, "It was like an anatomy lesson in there." Fucking creepy.

He turned to the roommate and asked him what's up with all the porn.

"You mean my nudes?" he replied.

NUDES! HE CALLED THEM NUDES.

"You need to lock this shit up; I have friends with kids. If one of them wandered in here by accident, you'd go to jail. Plus, it's just gross."

The nudes were gone the next day.

NUDES!!

No matter the message...

If you TAPE a bumper sticker to your bumper, you're automatically a douchebag in my book.

I know you can't see it or read it very well, but I thought the fact that I took a picture of it gave the story credibility.

Another jacked-up dream

Courtesy of my unconscious.

I dreamt that I was in a high-end department store like Barney's (only it wasn't). It was populated with very skinny saleswomen.

I bought a $900 purse, and when I walked out, I said to myself "What the fuck are you doing buying a $900 purse?"

So I marched right back in to return it. They were pretty bitchy about it, but whatever.

I stopped in the Ladies Room on my way out. And in each stall, there were two toilets. One is for regular business One has blue water and is designated solely for bulimics.

WHAT???