Best. Auction. Ever.

Sneak a peek at but a few of the fabulous auction items that will be up for bids at the Bubble Q Friday night, the pre-tune party prior to the Lowertown Art & Music Festival. Bubble Q is an annual fundraising event now in its third year. Proceeds benefit the Paducah Renaissance Alliance an organization dedicated to the promotion and development of downtown, Lowertown, and the Riverfront areas of Paducah. This year's event will feature live art performance (Nikki May!), special items available from exclusive Lowertown galleries, sparkling wine, delicious barbecue by Laura Duff's A Pampered Palate, and a live auction. Here are the particulars:

Friday, May 22nd

Corner of 7th & Madison Street, Festival Stage Area (across from the Texaco)

VIP Preview Party 6:00-7:30PM

Bubbly and Eats 7:00PM

FEATURED ITEMS

[And you know I'm lusting after this package, right?]

Pampered Pet Package

Silly for Spot? Know someone who is? Don’t worry, you’re in good company. Pamper that particular pooch with nothing but the best Paducah has to offer. Paducah’s own dog whisperer, author, and NPR correspondent, Patience Renzulli provides four one-on-one obedience/trick lessons a cool, one-of-a-kind designer collar, some much-needed doggie toys plus a signed copy of her book, “Mama Pajama Tells a Story” for you. Lowertown artist Karen Utz of Philosophy Gallery will immortalize your newly adorned and educated canine in her unique, exclusive whimsical style with a pooch portrait you’ll treasure forever.

Be a Barista
Embarrassed about your espresso? Clueless about cappuccino? Is your latte listless? Your macchiato monotonous? (Do you poop out at parties?) Fret no more! You and two friends spend a day with uber-Barista, Jean Rhodes, at Etcetera Coffeehouse in Lowertown. Learn how to brew a cup o’ Joe any way the right way (and sample the delicious results).

Consultants in a Box (To get you out of yours…)
Take a fresh 360 degree look at your business and strategize solutions to your biggest challenges. The most successful consultants in the region team up to provide you with three hours of TLC and undivided attention. Package includes proven expertise in marketing, web promotion, graphic design, executive coaching, communications, and strategic planning.

Kristin Reese Williams, KRW Strategies
Mary Thorsby, iList Paducah
Nathan Brown, Horizon Media Group
Terry Reeves, EntrePaducah

Donna-Maria Walker, Donna-Maria Walker Strategic Communications

***

More items will preview here (one featuring yours truly) shortly; still more will be featured here. Get your tickets now.

Call 270-444-8649 for tickets $50/ea or

VIP tables $750/6 tickets

Mother's Day Card

Inside: I think you're to blame for that.

Jon Minus Kate Plus 8?

Thanks to alert reader, Jill, for a link to a breaking story from People magazine. Looks like the Gosselins may be splitting according to the latest issue that will hit the newsstands on Friday. Read all about it here.

Oblivious

A message to my fellow Oblivians who also live on planet Really, When Did That Happen?:

Stamps cost 44 cents now. And, despite my making a trip to the post office yesterday, on the actual date the rate changed, where there were likely several large, honking signs in my face announcing the increase, I failed to notice them. I went about my business waiting in line for a year musing about peanut butter and my attraction for patent leather and tulips and then, finally, actually mailing a package. I did briefly notice several people ahead of me in line buying two cent stamps. I idly wondered, "Dude, who buys two cent stamps? Get a life."

Yah. The joke's on me and my whole entire purse full of now outdated postage.

I was finally clued to the situation by a Paducah Sun story this morning. I have to admit, those cool Bart Simpson stamps really do pretty much eliminate the sting of the increase.

Elizabeth Gilbert's TED Talk

YES, it's a twenty minute video and YES, that sort of flies in the face of the "short-n-sweet" generally accepted notion of blog posting, but this talk (like so many TED talks) is so, so worth it. If you're creative at all, and you've ever experienced being "in the zone" or the feeling that your work (when it's good) is coming from somewhere outside yourself, or felt a little afraid of that wacky thing we refer to as "the creative process", you have to see this.

(Elizabeth Gilbert wrote Eat Pray Love)

The Abandoned Maltese: An Accidental Update

Because many of you have asked...

You may remember when I posted about an abandoned Maltese that was found dirty, scared, and alone near a busy street in Paducah. I was sent the photo and the notification about the situation by a friend of a friend of the gentleman who found the dog. At that time, he was looking to find the dog a good home, and following my blog post, I was surprised at how many inquiries I got from my readers. Although, really, that is some serious cuteness.

At the time, I followed up by contacting the friend who'd sent me the original notification, who put me in touch with yet another friend of the guy with the dog. According to this friend, who I spoke with on the phone, the guy who found the Maltese had recently lost his long-term pet, a dog, and wasn't ready to adopt again, or at least that's what he thought at the time. I located the gentleman on Facebook and friended him, though we never communicated. And I never heard back following my inquiry.

Which is a really long lead-in to say that yesterday, on my way home from work, as I turned onto Pecan off of Highway 60, there sat, in a truck, stopped at a stop sign, waiting to turn onto Hwy 60, what was unmistakably the face of the little Maltese looking pretty much exactly as he does in the photo peeping serenely out the window. He was sitting in the lap of the driver, also unmistakably the original "finder" of the dog, I recognized him from his facebook photo.

I was so thrilled to see them together, so obviously a happy pet and master that, as I made the turn I could not stop staring, and inadvertently crashed into the curb, and jumped it with two wheels. Fortunately, I then managed to swerve back onto the road before something really awful happened. Good thing I drive a Subaru.

And that's the rest of the story.

J&K Update: Kate Gosselin responds to the rumors

A subdued and largely unsmiling Kate Gosselin appeared on the Today show this morning. The interview was, ostensibly, to promote her new book, "Eight Little Faces", but Meredith Viera wasted no time addressing what she called "The elephant in the room," asking Gosselin how the couple is coping with "a tough couple of weeks" in light of the most recent reports of Jon Gosselin's purported possible infidelity.

Kate responded by saying she is "hesitant to believe" the rumors and that such tabloid reporting "goes with the territory" of a reality show followed by a firm declaration that she and Jon are handling the matter "privately". Meredith then read aloud a statement from Jon Gosselin that started with alot of stuff about how, once again, his recent actions might not have been wise, but ended with this emphatic, "The bottom line is I did not cheat on Kate."

See a video of the interview here.

Coming Memorial Day Weekend

May 23 & 24. Can you really afford to miss Yo Mama's Big Fat Booty Band? I don't think so.

More information on the bands here and a full schedule of events right here.

Jon and Kate: Beyond the Spotlight

[At the risk of too much J&K, I'm posting the entry below that I wrote back in early March. It is, well, exhaustive. And, yes, there's too much J&K on this blog already, so I figure we might as well wallow. I'm not quite sure why I didn't post this entry at the time I wrote it. I tend to write a lot of stuff that I don't post. Mostly, that's because I tend to overshare and then think better of it later. In the case of this post...I don't know. Maybe I thought I was unqualified to have an opinion? Ridiculous, I know, I have a pulse, am a regular viewer of the show, and, as such, by today's standards, am perhaps over qualified. So, anyway, here it is. I'm too busy to write anything else right now.]

First: background. In case you haven't heard, the show Jon and Kate Plus 8 is a reality show produced by TLC that documents the adventures of a suburban Reading, Pennsylvania family headed by Jon and Kate Gosselin. The couple has (guess what) eight children: a set of twin girls born in 2001 and sextuplets--three boys and three girls--born May of 2004. At the time of the sextuplet's birth there were only 138 total cases of sextuplets worldwide. Amazingly, all six babies were born relatively healthy and joined their three-year-old sisters at home in fairly short order.

This meant Jon and Kate, in their late twenties at the time and an IT professional and RN respectively, had two three-year-olds and six newborns on their hands. Not, mind you, that they meant to. The couple, unable to conceive on their own, had the first set of twins courtesy of IVF fertilization and had hoped to conceive one more child the same way the second time around. When they learned a full six fetuses had begun to develop, the Gosselins made the choice not to selectively reduce. Kate lived through an unimaginably arduous pregnancy, managing to carry the babies to 30 weeks gestation.

Kate quit her job as a nurse to stay home with her mega-brood and the couple received a great deal of support from their church in the form of hands-on help as well as some financial assistance. Jon continued for a time in his IT job.

The Gosselin clan made their debut on the TLC Channel not too long after that as one of several featured families on a documentary special about couples coping with multiple births. Photogenic, articulate, and remarkably open about both how difficult the struggle as well as how great the rewards inherent in raising two sets of multiples, the Gosselins received an avalanche of fan mail, questions, and some additional support. It didn't hurt that their children: Cara, Mady, Alexis, Aaden, Leah, Joel, Hannah and Collin are all cute as bugs ears, as they say. It wasn't too long before TLC realized the potential, and thus a new reality show was (dare I saw it?) born.

The show, now it its I believe fourth season, is just plain addictive. And, for me at least, in a sort of train-wreckish sort of way. Especially in the beginning. I watched the daily nightmare of the care and feeding of eight sticky, whiny, cute, sick, poopy-pantsed, loving, darling, screaming kids with a sort of thank-god-that-isn't-me fascination. Every show is basically a day-in-the-life--sometimes a day at home, sometimes a day at the zoo, sometimes it's Christmas, etc. Sometimes the Gosselins are happy, quite often the Gosselins are annoyed but, holy crap, I shudder to think how annoyed I'd personally be in that situation. A lot of the time? Jon and Kate are just obviously really, really tired.

In the wake of the recent rumors about Jon Gosselin's supposed questionable activities in bars and on the campus of a college near the couple's Huntingdon, PA home I've done a fair amount of Google-ing the couple of late. Specifically, I knew with the press the story has been receiving, that a statement from Jon Gosselin likely wouldn't be too far behind. And, indeed, it wasn't. I think it's interesting to note that Gosselin doesn't specifically deny any of the allegations put forth in the story in his statement. But, be that as it may, it isn't the subject of this post.

What I did turn up was a great deal of controversy surrounding the Gosselin family and the continuing production of the show. This isn't surprising considering the Gosselin's level of popularity (pretty huge by now) and the fact that the internet lends itself very easily to detractors, naysayers, and downright haters. For every rise to stardom, there is an equal and opposite reaction of online (and real life) backlash. Heck, there's a whole website dedicated to hating Rachel Ray, for heaven's sake. Near as I can figure, Rachel is a cute Italian girl who likes to cook. What's not to like?

What's different about the backlash associated with the Gosselins is, in some cases, who is involved and the nature of the controversy. Specifically, Truth Breeds Hatred is a blog written by the sister of one, "Aunt Jodi" who, in the early seasons of J&K+8 made regular guest appearances as someone who would occassionally babysit some or all of the Gosselin children. Aunt Jodi is married to Jon Gosselin's brother.

Apparently, friction arose between Jon and Kate and Aunt Jodi when it was suggested that Aunt Jodi, like the rest of the Gosselins, might be entitled to a slice of the financial pie seeing as to how she was, at that point, a regular guest star. As the story goes, this spelled the end of Aunt Jodi in the television show. According to the (now removed) blog post, "No More Aunt Jodi" that you can still read here, Kate's reaction to Jodi's possible remuneration was, "NO WAY, no one gets paid but us."

You can watch a short video of the erstwhile Aunt Jodi giving a tearful thank-you to everyone for their support here.

Beyond that, TBH is of the opinion that J&K+8 is a near criminal exploitation of the Gosselin children. That, because the Gosselin children have no say in their being filmed and because Pennsylvania, unlike California, has no laws governing the extent to which children can be filmed and how, that the Gosselin children are being taken extreme advantage of by their parents. According to the site, neither of the Gosselin parents are employed other than as stars of the reality show.

Also wading into the fray is Paul Peterson, child advocate and originator of the watchdog organization A Minor Consideration. Peterson, himself a child star who began his career as a Mouseketeer in the 1950's at age 8, went on to star in the Donna Reed Show as Reed's son and morph into something of a teen heartthrob of the time. Like so many child actors, (Danny Bonnaducci, anyone?) Peterson would eventually become obsolete with the advent of the 60's counter culture and ultimately be forced to (brace yourselves) get a real job. Because of his experiences, Peterson founded AMC as a means to help former child performers dealing with substance abuse and other issues often inherent in falling from grace in The Business, as well as work to protect the rights of children currently facing "exploitation". In Peterson's opinion, the Gosselin children fall squarely into that category.

According to Peterson and Truth Breeds Hatred and a whole slew of other people, the Gosselin children are the equivalent of trained monkeys, human beings exploited for the financial gain of their parents who have gone a bridge too far with this whole reality TV thing.

[Insert my conclusion here.]

The trouble is? I'm not sure I have a conclusion.

Here's the thing. It's not like the Gosselin children are expected to break into a choreographed rendition of "So Long, Farewell", VonTrapp like, in every episode. Quite the opposite in fact. The kids are frequently seen screaming, playing, jumping, sitting in time-out, whacking the crap out of each other. Jon and Kate are frequently seen tired, pissed off, annoyed, happy. J&K+8 sure looks like a regular family (albeit one with an unnaturally clean house for one with so many kids in it) with cameras pointed at it.

Granted, the show has made a slew of money, granted the show is supporting the Gosselin family--is this a sin? Like it or not, the Gosselins are an anomale. They are going to be stared at. Their situation, by its very nature, presents HUGE unnatural challenges. Given the financial burden that having and rearing 8 children constitutes (for an RN and an IT professional), should the Gosselins absolutely be expected to forgo the possibility of a million dollar income and financial security in the interest of privacy? Is it really not preferable that the income generated from the show support both parents being hands-on with their children the majority of the time as opposed to the Gosselins struggling for every last Lego set and stocking stuffer? Is that not worth something?

On the other hand, yes, all children need and deserve some privacy. I mean, where are we headed here to the "Mady and Cara Get their Period" episode? At some point enough is enough. But are we really there? Have the Gosselins been there all along?

My gut says no. At the risk of having to read Cara and Mady's tell-all book, "Our Childhoods were Hell and TV Ruined our Lives and, damn you, Suzanne, and that Blog Post that Three People in Paducah Read you Insensitive Twit" in twenty years, I don't think the Gosselins are there yet. Ultimately, like it or not, all children are dependent on their parents to make decisions and choices that will change their lives forever one way or the other. It happens all the time every day. It just doesn't always happen on TV. The Gosselins are an unusual family in an unusual situation. Will this impact their children? Most definitely. Are they making mistakes? For sure, all parents do.

Will these children suffer as a result of their upbringing? Yep. They will also reap likely reap amazing rewards.

They already are.

Jon & Kate: It just gets uglier...

...and uglier.

How to tell you're at the Best Derby Party

When Spider Man shows up.

Derby Day

The betting board outside our local window. It's high-tech because this is Kentucky, home of the derby. We're festive like that. Lots of bets were down, but very few were on the winner, #8 Mine that Bird (showing as "Wire that Bird" on our ghetto list), a horse with 50/1 odds as of 1PM.

Feel My Pain as well as that of Jon and Kate

Things just haven't been coming together for me lately in terms of a post of any substance.

First, I tossed off a venomous post about Swine Flu. It was acerbic and sarcastic and all about making fun of (what I consider to be) another bout of inappropriately intense, over-the-top news coverage on the situation by the US media. Specifically the post focused on CNN's Dr. Sanjay Gupta and his roving coverage and updates from Mexico. The piece culminated with an imagined interview by Sanjay of the actual specific Mexican swine (Wilbur) that originated the whole virus. You can imagine, I'm sure.

And then I considered my past history with The Universe. I decided the minute I hit "publish" on that sucker, I'd likely wake up sneezing and feverish, eventually find myself hospitalized, and then, of course, I'd eventually DIE of the virus myself--ha ha! Ultimately, I decided it wise not to tempt the Universe with yet another pitch slow and over the plate.

Soon after that, I ran across a list I'd made a few years ago of my favorite documentary films. I thought it over, added a few more, and decided (in light of my recent "Dear Zachary" viewing)that I'd publish the list as a post. Because, of course, everyone is desperate to know which documentaries are my favorites! I'd make each film title in the list a link to the trailer at YouTube (yah! that's it!). I worked for hours on the post. I viewed and got lost in a ton of trailers and clips and carefully selected only the best pieces to link to. By the time I was finished, I had a good list of probably fifteen films.

It was a Thing of Beauty.

And then, I had another inspiration! At the top of the post, I'd embed the trailer of a movie called "The Cutting Edge: The Magic of Movie Editing". It's a great little documentary that wonderfully illustrates, through both clips and interviews, just how essential the editing process is to the final product. (Same with writing, in my opinion. But I digress.) I chased down the best clip (the film apparently doesn't have a trailer. Ironic, isn't it?). I go to embed the thing and for some reason? The code just deletes the whole damn post.

Gone (and autosaved)! Just like that!

[Insert blood-curdling scream here.]

I know you fellow bloggers can sympathize.

Otherwise, just for you guys, because I know you are such vultures when in comes to Jon and Kate Gosselin, I stopped in at the magazine rack at Kroger and mooched the whole US article that broke the latest scandal. The piece reiterates what the internet rumor mill has been saying for months: that Jon and Kate are essentially separated but keeping up appearances for the sake of the family and the show.

The latest photo scandal happened outside yet another bar near the couple's home in Pennsylvania. Jon was seen emerging in the wee hours with an unidentified woman. When he realized the cameras were about, he shouted to the woman to hurry and get in the car. Jon said something like, "Give me my coat, babe." I suppose her name could actually be "Babe", but I'm doubting it, aren't you? Jon's official story is that the woman is simply a friend who wanted to test-drive his new car.

Ahem.

The article goes on to claim, again like the internet rumors, that Kate is a complete and total bitch, so heinous that she is estranged from virtually everyone in her life, her own family included. That despite Kate's protests to the contrary, she has a great deal of hired help with the kids and that said hired help and Jon do the majority of the kid-wrangling whilst Kate...well, I don't know. Sits around and is bitchy, I guess.

Saddest of all, the article paints a sorry picture of Jon Gosselin. The piece claims US has interviewed many residents of the community where the Gosselins live who regularly spot him wandering the mall alone or sitting around in dark parking lots of bars (on the hood of his new car) clearly just out wasting time and trying desperately to avoid the press. It states Jon is living separately in an apartment above the couple's garage.

Of course, Kate catches little slack. The press and the public can't seem to forgive her for having morphed into a perfectly coiffed, fit, bronzed, bitchy beauty. While I grant you that, yes, she is frequently bitchy to Jon, sometimes inordinantly so, what woman with eight kids wouldn't be bitchy? Please. Whose life could stand up in the midst of such a ridiculously huge amount of pressure and child rearing and scrutiny? It's like it would all be okay if Kate looked frumpy and unkempt, but all that and looking good? Oh, hell no. What Jon does or doesn't look like isn't an issue, of course.

While all this information could be inaccurate speculation about the Gosselins, I'm afraid it has the ring of truth at least for me. What would you do if you were Jon Gosselin, head of the most popular, cutest family in show business and your marriage fell apart? Leave? I don't think so. The show is clearly the couple's main source of income at this point. You would be trapped and desperate to get away and be anonymous every chance you got. Meanwhile, Kate is left with no options whatsoever, including leaving the house (unless she's on a publicity junket talking about how wonderful her life is) and, PS, she probably shouldn't be looking good either.

The next season of "Jon & Kate Plus 8" premieres on TLC May 25. I have no choice but to be there, still hoping it all somehow, against all odds and evidence to the contrary, works out for the Gosselins. Because you, my readers, insist on it.

Honestly, the things I do for this blog.
[Edited to add: Holy crap! I forgot the most important tidbit about Jon Gosselin. Despite Kate's all organic policy, Jon has been spotted going through drive-thru at Wendy's. Shocking.]

S. Darko

I was both thrilled and disappointed to discover this teaser trailer among the previews before "Slumdog Millionaire" (I've not made it through the Slumdog film, by the way. I'm sensitive to things like child abuse. It's been paused for about an hour now.)

S. Darko is apparently a spin-off of "Donnie Darko", an all-time favorite. The sequel is told through the eyes of Donnie's younger sister, Samantha. I can't imagine it could even begin to live up to the original (especially the director's cut). Sometimes I question the film industry's commitment to Sparkle Motion.

Oh Dear...

More naughtiness from John Gosselin to report, I'm afraid.

You know you want to....

Can you believe it? Speed dating finally makes a pit stop in our little corner of the world. Find out how Mr. or Ms. Right could be seated just across the table from you as soon as May 30th right here.

The Face of Happy

Isabelle, finally sheared for warm weather, is officially the happiest dog on the block (click for a giant-sized happy face).

Dear Zachary

Most of you know I watch a lot of documentaries. "Dear Zachary" is one of the unforgettables.

Available instantly at Netflix.

How to Have a Lovely Weekend

BubbleShare: Share photos - Play some Online Games.

Click the photos for a larger version and captions at Bubble Share.

Worse than her Bite (Much worse)

Tallulah, I'm happy to report, has made some potty-related strides since the serious set back (the ice storm) in this regard. Mostly no peeing in the house now and very little indoor pooping. If she does have a poopy accident, she's developed the sense not to eat the stuff as if it were foie gras, thank goodness. [I wrote that sentence last night. This morning I noticed Tallulah in a corner polishing off her latest pile. I moved on. Quickly. "La, la, la, didn't see that, nope!"]

No, Tallulah's worst problem now is not scatological. And I'm afraid it's also not one she's likely to outgrow. It is (and I feel myself cringe as I type this) her bark.

Let's see...how to explain. For starters, IT'S LOUD. Not loud as in woofy, roaring, Lassie loud, but loud as in imagine a sound that is an extremely abbreviated (nano-second) version of a combined blood-curdling scream, bark, yelp, and chalk squeaking on a chalkboard (for those of you of sufficient age to know that sound). It is high-pitched and startling. It comes out of nowhere. One minute you're sitting on my couch having a perfectly nice conversation and the next it's the decibal equivalent of a gun trigger pulled not a centimeter away from your head. Or maybe like someone bewitched floated up, aimed a basketball half time honker at your ear and pushed the button...

!YECK!

I call her The Glass Shatterer.

I have witnessed, as recently as last weekend, a guest actually involuntarily levitate momentarily from their seat from the shock of an unexpected !YECK! out of my little darling. It is almost inconceivable that such a noise, the auditory equivalent of vicious blow to the temple, can emanate from a dog so otherwise quiet, small, and light on her feet. One minute Tallulah's flitting about, her teensy little tootsies tickety-tacking merrily along on the hardwood. She hops about greeting unsuspecting guests, gets her pets, maybe a treat or a chewy, goes on about her business. And then for a time...nothing. It's like she waits until she's certain the visitor(s) have quite forgotten there is a pint-sized, white, four-legged diva in residence.

And then...

!YECK!

Flinching, chest clutching, wincing, involuntary twitching...all reactions my guests have exhibited upon exposure to The Glass Shatterer. Their first question, when they regain their senses, is usually, "WHAT was THAT?" Because the !YECK! isn't immediately identifiable as a sound found in nature. It sounds more like [an abbreviated version of] the last sound you hear just before a train hits; when emergency brakes are suddenly applied to steel wheels that just a split second before were spinning at maximum speed.

The good news, if there is any, is that Tallulah's not really an overly barky dog. (Though this may contribute to the shock value of the sound.) Tallulah tends to bark when she's a) excited over wrestling w/her big sister or uncle Dudley or b) has important news such as "Look! Isabelle's at the door you need to let her in, Mommy!", c) would like to state, "Damn! I think I just heard serial killer blink out back! Battle stations, everyone!", or d) FYI..."Hello? I'm in my crate over here being good? You haven't forgotten about me...HAVE YOU?"

!YECK!

Of course I'm immune. I lost the majority of my hearing to a series of concerts I attended in the 1980's and early 90's. Somewhere between AC/DC and Van Halen (the David Lee Roth version, natch, please do not mistake me for that person) things just aren't the same. I can, of course, clearly hear the Glass Shatterer, just perhaps not in quite the stereophonic glory of my guests, if the looks on their (pale white terrified) faces is any indication. Also, I'm used to the sound, an advantage that simply cannot be overstated in this situation.

I've debated just how to handle unitiated guests. Should I post a sign on the door, 'Warning: Prepare for Sudden Incredibly Loud Bark". Should I just lay it on them, "You might want to keep in mind that this tiny dog could let out a bark loud and startling enough to make you check and see if your brain might be leaking out your ears."

Of course my usual M. O. is to do absolutely nothing except comfort the victims post bark. And, let's be honest. I'll probably just stick with that.

!YECK!

Grey Gardens, HBO Production: The Remorseless Review

Because I'm sure you're keeping track, you're well aware that the premiere of the HBO movie production of "Grey Gardens" happened last night. We watched fortified with wine, salad, bread sticks and twelve pounds of lasagna. We pre-tuned with an hour or so of The Beales of Grey Gardens (a 2006 follow-up to the original doc). We addressed each other in our best Big and Little Edie voices. We broke into song without warning and for no particular reason. We speculated on possible reasons why the cast of the Broadway musical is alreadying panning Drew Barrymore's performance. We pondered how there can possibly be people in this world actually not interested in viewing the premier of a movie that tells the story (again) of two crusty old ladies living in squalor and cat poop in an overgrown, dilapidated mansion in the Hamptons (go figure). We read over the original Broadway playbill. Stephanie did her Little Edie flag dance. We considered dressing the dogs up as cats. We investigated whether or not Kim Basinger lost a finger.

Okay, so that last thing is unrelated. (She didn't, by the way. Kim is still in posession of all her digits, near as we can figure.)

We took it as an excellent omen that we tuned into HBO at the very second the movie began.

And then we watched the movie.

We watched it for an hour and a half. Because that's how long it was.

There were things HBO got right, to be sure. The costumes, the sets, the make-up on Drew Barrymore (who played Little Edie) and Jessica Lange (who played Big Edie) were superb. I mean, they absolutely NAILED the look of Grey Gardens and the Beales. Drew and Jessica so closely resembled their counterparts that, at times, for a few seconds, one could easily believe they were the Beales. There is a scene where Drew as Little Edie is lying on the beach that is truly amazing in this regard. The make-up is flawless and there is no question that Drew is totally believable as the fifty-something eccentric.

Jessica Lange's portrayal of Big Edie was excellent. The voice, the absolutely giving over of herself to this character is amazing and succeeds pretty much at all times. Barrymore, on the other hand, while beguiling and occasionally successful, does not in the end live up to the role. Her accent tends to come and go. And, while I'm not sure any actress is up to the task of bringing to life this unique one-of-a-kind personality, Drew just doesn't quite meet the mark.

Which brings me to my biggest problem with the film. And this is not an easy distinction to make. But the problem here, I think, is one of perspective. On the face of it, the Beale's story is, indeed, that of formerly rich relatives of Jackie Kennedy Onassis who fall on hard times and descend into living a life of desperation and mean poverty. Okay, we get that and those facts add additional sparkle to the story. But those facts aren't the point. The point is, the amazing characters these women are; how mesmerizing they are to watch, how fascinating it is to witness their monologues. I mean, these are two seriously Staunch Characters. (And I'm sorry to report this famous phrase, originally stated by Little Edie in the documentary, was not even included in the HBO production. Hello?)

What Grey Gardens should be is a character study with an underlying riches-to-rags story. What this HBO production turned out to be is the exact opposite: a riches-to-rags story with some underlying character development. And, while I can understand the temptation to stress the Jackie Kennedy connection is hard to resist, again, that isn't the point. Big and Little Edie are plenty interesting enough on their own. HBO didn't need to waste our time with the Jackie Kennedy appearance to make it interesting. In fact, this proves distracting and adds to the lack of focus, in my opinion.

Last, the aforementioned running time. Why on earth would HBO pour such resources and talent into a production on a subject so potentially rich in detail and then only manage a paltry hour-and-a-half running time? It smacks of made-for-TV-movie. Lifetime would have given us more.

So, no, HBO's "Grey Gardens" was not what we'd hoped.

Still, it was a great excuse for lasagna and reindeer games.

Feagan's of Fredonia

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Sooner or later, if you live anywhere near western Kentucky, you have to go to Feagan's of Fredonia and buy furniture. It is The Law. There is literally nothing else in Fredonia besides Feagan's and The Coon Dog Inn which is actually a restaurant. There we enjoyed plate lunches of chicken, potato casserole, and cooked-down green beans capped off with pie.
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[Okay, so it's not the greatest post in the world, but it is a post. Baby steps.]
PS To see the captions in their entirety (and you know you want to), click the photos; they show at Bubbleshare.]

Midnight Snack

Nope, still no words.

I am, however, able to enjoy a delicious late-night snack of a toasted english muffin spread with ricotta cheese and topped with sweetened stawberries and cilantro.

At the risk of too much grey matter...

Just a quick pop-in to pass on a link to the newly updated Grey Gardens website. All the minutia, collectibles, and latest information on the musical and HBO film, plus some other stuff. Gah 'head. Wallow (noise).

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I can't write right now. I don't know why. So, here's a photo of Tallulah that I took last night and a me-me that I thought was a little more interesting than the norm. I think I'll be back to regular blogging soon. (I hope.)

1. My uncle once: popped my balloon with his cigarette.

2. Never in my life: have I wanted a boob job. It just all looks so painful.

3. When I was five: I got a doll made out of (white) feathers as a birthday gift from my Grandma. I LOVED IT.

4. High school was: bizarre.

5. I will never forget: “The chemical structure of the atom is similar in many respects to the physical structure of our own solar system.” (Speaking of uncles, mine made me and another cousin memorize that on a lazy summer afternoon. About 35 years ago. Don’t ask me what I had for breakfast.)

6. Once I met (and befriended): my husband’s ex-wife. We’re still friends. The marriage? Not so much.

7. There’s this girl I know: who absolutely won’t listen to me. It’s a bad call on her part.

8. Once, at a bar: I think I’ve already told that story here.

9. By noon, I’m usually: hungry.

10. Last night: was delightful.

11. If only I had: more self-discipline.

12. Next time I go to church: it will likely burn down.

13. What worries me most: helplessness. No question.

14. When I turn my head left I see: a mirror.

15. When I turn my head right I see: a chair holding a printer that I’m too lazy to move.

16. What I miss most about the Eighties is: my twentysomething ass. It rocked.

17. If I were a character in Shakespeare I’d be: Lady MacBeth. I’m so guilty, I swear.

18. I have a hard time understanding: People who voted for George Bush. TWICE.

19. If I ever go back to school: I would whine a lot about it. In my blog.

Southern Illinois University--Now a possibility

Long-time readers may remember that I flirted, fairly seriously during the Summer of Fun when I was blissfully unemployed, with the idea of enrolling at Southern Illinois University at Carbondale. I even went so far as to drive up and meet with some of the faculty and explore the Mass Comm Department which I found fairly impressive. Also, they offer a pretty top-notch photography program.

The major rub at that time was the out-of-state tuition cost--about $10,000 higher than for Illinois residents. A pretty serious hurdle for someone not eligible for any financial aid.

I'm happy to report, that according to a story aired on NPR this morning, thanks to an ever more competitive market, the out-of-state tuition differential has been eliminated. Out-of-state students at SIU will now pay the same tuition costs as those in-state: about $5,700 per semester.

This means a whole new secondary education option for those in Paducah whose nearest alternative for a bachelor's has been Murray State University, about 48 miles down the road. While Murray does offer a limited number of degrees at their satellite campus in Paducah, mostly in business and education, I suspect this will force even more competition locally for the education dollar. Carbondale is only about 20 minutes farther away than Murray. While Murray has plans for a substantial campus in Paducah, that is still a ways away.

Elimination of out-of-state tuition is a question with which many universities across the country are currently struggling. Read the full NPR story here.

Meanwhile, back at Grey Gardens...

This is a follow-up to my original Grey Gardens trailer post. If you've watched that clip, but haven't seen the original Grey Gardens documentary by the Maysles brothers, you must watch the clip I'm posting here from that film of Little Edie Beale. Little Edie is the character portrayed in the HBO production by Drew Barrymore. When you see this clip, of the real Little Edie, you get a sense of just how great a job Drew is really doing. This is the exact snippet on which the Barrymore speech about "using her skirt as a cape" is based. Watch them back-to-back.
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Update on the abandoned Maltese: I've had contact from no less than three readers seriously interested in exploring the possibility of adopting the little guy. I am, as yet, unable to reach the man in whose hands the fate of the little orphan rests. Will keep you posted.

Abandoned

If this baby doesn't tug at your heartstrings? Well, then I need to turn off my blog lights and pull down the shade. This little guy was found matted and scared near a very busy street. His age is estimated at about six months and he is shown here getting spruced up at the groomer's...could it be for you? Could he be the fur baby you have been longing for? He is a Maltese and his little feet turn out like Tallulah's and it makes me very sad.

If you or someone you know is interested in adopting, please contact me at my e-mail address listed under my profile.

*sniff!*

Grey Gardens: The HBO Production

Premieres April 18th.

Dogs vs Vacuum

I believe I've written before just how difficult it is to get a shot of both Isabelle and Tallulah in the same frame. I had forgotten about the one tool that causes the dogs to close ranks: the vacuum. At my house, at least, the vacuum is a tool that is in use far too seldom for the animals to completely get used to it (hence the giant fur tumbleweeds blowing about the place).

Isabelle, having many more years on her than her younger sister, tends to acclimate to the equipment and the sound much more quickly, but both dogs view my all-too-infrequent bursts of vacuuming with roughly equal apprehension in the beginning. And I, heartless blogger that I am, have no problem menacing both pets with the Eureka for the sake of a photo opportunity.

Here Isabelle gets her guard dog on facing down The Eureka as Tallulah cowers in the background.

Isabelle continues to place herself in harm's way for the sake of her younger sister, but now her face says, I have to do everything around here--it's getting old.

Later in the vacuuming process: Isabelle, satisfied now that the Eureka threat level is low, relaxes a little. Tallulah, still not convinced, isn't leaving the protected area immediately near Isabelle.

Catching Up

I’m not quite sure why things seem to really be sliding out of my control lately. Full time work and full time school are leaving me little time for reflection and blogging. Here’s a brief synopsis of what’s up with me:

I got a Blackberry. Like I needed one. I can’t figure out how to work it beyond the most rudimentary of tasks. If you’re trying to call and I’m not answering? This is why.

I passed Astronomy. Holy sh!t. The final was a bunny, thank God, and allowed me to pull the whole thing out of the crapper at the very last minute. I was seriously sweating that one.

I ate at Martin Fierro Argentinean Grille for the first time a while back. It was, by far, the most meatastic experience of my life. While the menu boasts fourteen varieties of meat at a sitting, we were treated to only nine. NINE. Our waitress helpfully explained, before the meat parade began, that we would be actually eating our way through the cow starting at the ass. Not sure, but I think this was supposed to whet our appetites. But cow’s not all! Oh no! We also had chicken, pork, sausage, and lamb. By meat five, my heart was sluggishly lurching around in my chest like a seasick tourist. Don’t get me wrong, the meat was delicious, I just don’t think anybody needs THAT MUCH MEAT at a sitting. (Or even in a week, let’s be honest.)

Speaking of a healthy diet, I have placed the Amish at least partially in charge of my produce choices. I missed the February deadline for signing up for the Amish Vegetable Cooperative a program whereby, one pays the Amish, and they, in turn, provide you with 22 weeks of slow-food organic produce, whatever is in season. Fortunately, the Amish had mercy on my late self (unlike the POElease) and accepted my order passed the deadline. According to the contract, here’s what I can expect:

In spring, cool weather crops like mesclun mix, radishes, green onions, and dark leafy greens; followed closely with strawberries, broccoli, new potatoes, cabbage, and squash. As the season becomes warmer—heirloom tomatoes, beans, sweet corn, peppers, sweet onions, eggplant, melons, and blackberries. As cooler weather approaches, sweet potatoes and winter squash along with melons, tomatoes and peppers continuing. The season will close with cool weather crops again like lettuce, greens sweet carrots, radishes, cabbage, Chinese cabbage and more.

How delicious does that sound?

Yesterday? I was driving down Highway 60 on the over pass (if you’re not local, this is a four-lane highway, as big as roads get in these here parts) when off the right median the biggest turkey I’ve ever seen in my life starts leisurely goose-stepping its way across the road. While deer are a common sight in these parts, turkeys are usually a bit more timid. Not, however, this turkey. It was HUUUGE and all like, “That’s right, bitches, you can just stop right now, because Mama’s headed to the other side.” Miss Thang the turkey, would manage to stop all four lanes of traffic in both directions before it was over without so much as a glance in our direction. I suspect, had I stood next to the bird, her head would have easily reached my shoulder. It was quite a spectacle.

My cousin was the victim of a hair crime last week. I received a panicked call just after work wherein she informed me she HAD A MULLET. We took immediate action and ended up at a mall salon where a nervous but fortunately competent young stylist managed to fix the situation by giving her a modified bob saving much more hair than we had first anticipated would be possible. The stylist chatted nonstop during the remedial cutting and styling process and informed us, among many other things, that the word “mullet” is now the equivalent of a cuss word in most salons. As in many stylists won’t even say the word “mullet” and those stylists that do will only whisper it.

The Big Fifty

I was fascinated to read an article published by The Guardian (UK) that lists its take on the 50 most powerful blogs in the world (March, 2009). Arianna Huffington rules the list, Dooce rolls it at a very respectable #5, and the Fug Girls don't get their due at #30 (I think they should be higher).

Still wondering how they overlooked my blog. Whatever!

Find out what's missing from your "must-read" list here.

Blooming

I had to take a test after work today. The exam covered a bunch of tedious nerve-wracking computer related stuff and I was dreading what I thought would probably be a good two hours in the library when I encountered a tulip magnolia tree in full bloom on campus. The photo I post here is not of the actual tree I saw, but the blooms are identical, as big as my fist, and so riotously gorgeous that they did not seem real, not the least bit.

I live in a land of many blooming trees, most notably (I think), the dogwoods and redbuds, but this tree today was a totally unexpected pick-me-up. An early bloomer. The tree drained the dread from me on my way to the test and lifted me out of my post-test droopiness when I passed it again on the way back to the car (yes, indeed, two hours later).

Breathtaking.

Thing is, a good portion of the tree, what looked to have been the very center of it in fact, had obviously fallen victim to the ice. Half the trunk was a broken, naked shard pointing jaggedly at the sky, all that remained of the foundation that used to hold the center most branches. All around its ruined middle the tree had gone about it's business, though. Blooming merrily along.

I soaked in the lesson.

Who loves ya, baby?

You never really think you’re going to grow up to be the girl that needs the proverbial concealed file in a cake, you know? The tragic star of her own personal Shawshank who suddenly finds her fabulous, law abiding self chained to a bench on a random Tuesday morning.

Turns out that while a certain city department in blue has been conspiring to keep a sister down, I'm very happy to report that certain other city departments have been conspiring to bust a sister out:

Ladies and gentlemen, from the minds of the people who brought ice skating and wired hot spots to the local masses, comes a product so handy, so GENIUS that no [Paducah] girl's glove box should be without one.

Introducing The Liberty Muffin:

Because sometimes justice is...well. Insane.

[norestrictionsapplyprohibitedeverywhereavailableonlyinblueberrybecauseitsmyfavoriteflavorifyourestillinthejailafterapplyingfileforseventytwohoursyourareevenmorefuckedthaniwasandthatssayingsomethingfinallyifyouhearthepolicearelookingforyouDONOTCALLTHEMFOOL]

Thanks guys. Obviously? I needed that.

Renegade

Color me naive, but when I was tipped off that the police (or as we say in the south, the "POE-lease") were looking for me my major reaction was,

"Gee! I wonder what they want?"

I learned this information from a helpful source with whom I had a work meeting at the (let's all remember now) new job. It didn't take but a few hours before curiosity got the better of me and I just went ahead on and gave the police a call. It went a little something like this:

PADUCAH POLICE DEPT.
Paducah Police Department

ME
Hi! This is Suzanne Mylastnamethateverybodyknows I hear you're looking for me?

PPD
(long pause)
You...heard we're looking for you?

ME
Right. I hear the police are looking for me and so I thought I'd call and see what they wanted.

PPD
Ma'am, I don't know what they want.

ME
(pause)
Maybe you could...I don't know...ask around?

PPD
Can you give me your name again?

ME
Suzanne. Mylastnamethateverybodyknows.

PPD
Can you hold please?

ME
Sure.

(a minute or two goes by.)

PPD
Ma'am?

ME
Yes?

PPD
There are no officers here right now, what is your location?

ME
(pause)
I'm at...work?

PPD
No, ma'am, what is the address where you are at right now?

ME
(pause)
And you would need that why?

PPD
So we can send an officer out to you.

ME
Let's review: I don't want an officer at my place of business for heavens sake, I want to know what officer is looking for me and why! Hello?

PPD
It may be that an officer needs to get a message to you. About your family or something. That happens sometimes.

ME
My family is fine. Here's what we're going to do. I'm going to give you my cell phone number and if you happen to run into an officer that's, say, looking for me? You give him this number and have him call me, okay?

***

And then, if you can believe it (and I'm sure you can because it's me we're talking about here), I just went right on about my business and forgot about all that. In fact I forgot about it all the way up until this morning at 7:30 am. when my cell phone rang.

Indeed, the caller was the elusive officer of the law in question. And friends? I was informed on my very own cell phone that I was, at that very moment, a fugitive from justice. It seems I had gotten a ticket some time back (on, yah, that) that boiled down to a mere $25 fine for not wearing a seatbelt? I was supposed to have paid that ticket at some point in time right around that little ice storm we had. Turns out? I had forgotten all about that.

Which is how I came to be a fugitive, wanted, a person of interest, a desperate woman on the lamb, a suspicious character, a wanton criminal, a perpetrator who had been, only moments before, applying under-eye concealer as if it were just an ordinary day.

Having absorbed the shock of all this information, briefly fancied myself (as stated above) in the role of Official Criminal, and (kind of) regained my composure, I asked the officer what some good advice might be for some in my, er, situation?

Turns out, I needed some cash (they don't take any guff at the jail and they sure as hell don't take Visa) to show up to the PD and to, dear God, turn myself in [cue dramatic violins]. At this point in the conversation Tallulah, no doubt sensing the worst, began barking her fool head off at my feet. I placed my hand over the receiver and shouted, "Will you SHUT UP Mommie's UNDER ARREST for god's sake!" And she did.

I told the officer I'd be there within the hour and got off the phone.

Two things: what to wear and, oh my heavenly stars, I'm going to have to call the office. It was easy really, black pants, black sweater, the usual black cowboy boots (might as well look the part). Then the office, "Um, yah, I'm going to be in a little late today? I'm going to have to be arrested, etc." My boss's response?

"Don't drop the soap."

Thanks, dude.

Then it was off to the PD--tra la!

I mean, seriously, who else does this just suddenly happen to on a Tuesday? I met my arresting officer and we moseyed on over to the jail where we filled out some paperwork--hey, this arrested thing isn't so bad--and then? Well, and then I was handcuffed. Handcuffed people! In broad daylight in the street! (Bright side? At least it wasn't zip-ties. 'Cause...eww.) Once the cuffs were on, I couldn't help but remark to my arresting officer as well as the world in general,

"Now THIS RIGHT HERE? Is what you call a blog post."

I was escorted to the jail where the big metal door of freedom clanged shut ominously behind me and presented to at the booking counter (?) where there was someone already in process ahead of me. I was then led to and seated on a metal bench. My AO (get me and the slang) removed the cuffs--yay--but then the jail dude hurried over and cuffed me to the bench. (Bright side? This left one hand free.) A nice looking, young incarcerated man hurried efficiently over and desposited what was obviously meant to be my orange jump suit and flip flops on the bench next to me. And just like that? It was here. My own personal Private Benjamin moment. I placed my free hand on the folded clothes, glanced around to the officers and others bustling around and said,

"Do these come in another color? Because orange just isn't good on me."

I went on to be fingerprinted and photographed, pay my fine and bail (in exact change in cash), sign some stuff, repeat my mother's phone number over and over (everybody needs your emergency contact in jail) and was in and out in probably twenty minutes or less. Everybody was super nice, it was all very smooth. And, honestly, I seriously don't think it had one single thing to do with the fact that my AO, upon first presenting my handcuffed self in the booking area, made a little announcement. And that announcement was,

"This woman writes. On the INTERNET."

(Note to yourselves.)

Wha...?

[Edited to add: Jon Gosselin has issued a statement: “It is certainly hurtful for people to spread rumors and lies about us. It certainly makes me reluctant to live my life like the average person would. This has made it very clear that the simplest innocent gesture -— such as taking a picture with a fan, can be taken out of context. As you can see on the show, I am not perfect, but I am a part of a loving family and couple.”]

I was horrified to be the next-to-the last person (sorry, Kate) to learn, when the incident made it to the round table chat on Chelsea Lately tonight, about the recently broken story that Jon Gosselin of TLC's reality show "Jon and Kate Plus 8" has allegedly been seen canoodling with college coeds.

According to the story, Jon has appeared in bars sans Kate and behaved badly on consecutive weekend nights (including Valentine's Day) in the Huntingdon, Pennsylvania area near where the couple purchased a $1.3 million home. The new house and the couple's move into it has been featured in J&K+8's most recently aired episodes.

It's hard to tell, but I think the source for the story is Star Magazine. The story has also been featured on celebtv.com (video) and is spreading like wildfire online. My devotion to the show and fondness for all the Gosselins and their amazing story has been pretty well documented here. I actually got misty when these two renewed their vows on a recent trip to Hawaii. And I'm not one who mists easily. Let's hope it ain't so.

Nekkid

Let the record show I knew it was going to be a bad day at the groomers going in. I hinted that, perhaps, our little Tallulah might face rather more grooming than she is used to due to her. Well. Let's call it "less than tangle-free" coat. Unfortunately, it turned out to be an "off-with-her-fur" situation. A very bad night indeed at the dog salon.

As we all know, Isabelle is a girl who can--and does--rock a fur-free look (I'd link but I'm lazy) each and every Spring, Summer and part of the Fall.

But when I brought the newly groomed Tallulah home tonight, Isabelle immediately went into an involuntary "What the hell is THAT?" spaz:

So I hustled our poor little plucked chicken into the hallway while Isabelle recovered her composure and took a photo:

Big furry head, big furry tail, and tragic tiny newborn naked rat body in between. This is actually a very flattering photo of the whole situation given that, in real life, Tallulah's body has a decidedly more fuschia cast because there is so little fur and so much actual skin shining, light-bulb like, through what's left of her fur. Not to mention, her whole back butt situation? Is just OUT THERE.

The good news? Tallulah has (shhhh...whisper) no idea.

And we're not telling her. So, hey! It's really just another day in (electrified) paradise!

Dirty Girls

Holy cow, it's nearly possible to get these two photographed in the same frame while each at the same time look the least bit sane and one or the other isn't licking her butt or something. This is the best I could do. And, while they may look normal, and marginally socially acceptable, both are sporting coats in deplorable condition. Dirty, smelly. Itchy, scratchy. Both desperately in need of a bath and some serious grooming. Tallulah especially looks like a little white unkempt orphan rat dog.

Isabelle is better at pulling off the,

"Sure, I'm a little crusty but still MAJESTIC" look.

Now that the horses are once again hitched to the gravy train, Tallulah has a spa appointment on Thursday. I will have my usual conversation with the groomer wherein she will give Tallulah's coat a brief examination and pronounce her "matted" with a sneer. And I will, once again remind her, that, yes indeed, she's matted and that's why we're here, um, here. At the groomer's.

Isabelle I will schedule for a spring shearing as soon as the cold weather breaks.

And then all will be right with the world.

Hi-Ho, Hi-Ho...

That's right, people, it's back to work I go!

And not a minute too soon either. Note to yourselves: My latest job came to pass as a direct result of this blog and a comment I made in this post (1st paragraph, last sentence). While I am a woman who almost never mixes blogging with work, I will say the time to be publicity shy is not during a job search. Make sure everybody you know (and everybody they know) knows you are on the hunt and never underestimate the power of the people who may or may not be visiting your website. Sing it, shout it, put it on a tee-shirt. And for heaven's sake, make sure you can produce a good looking updated resume at a moment's notice.

Today? I'm the expert. Last week? My Mom was coaxing me out from under my bed with a sack of Twizzlers.

Kidding.

But seriously folks, since I wrote back in December about my wildly unexpected ill-timed lay-off (after which all my friends and family were treated to Post-It notes with "love ya" written on them in red Sharpie from me for Christmas) my philosophy has, in all honesty, really been put to the test. You know? My whole "Do your best and the universe will take care of you" philosophy? The whole "Be in the moment" thing? Yah.

I've had a few moments.

But only a few. You don't spend as much time as I have these last few years acting as an Official Third-Tier Punching Bag for the Amusement of the Universe without a) Developing a much more finely honed sense of humor and b) Just plain old getting used to it.

And, anyway, I believed the Universe would take care of me and it did, didn't it?

Whether or not it took its sweet-assed time is a whole 'nother question.

Then there was that whole NATURAL DISASTER in between. Nice touch, Universe! I gotta admit, it is sort of a challenge to find a job during a natural disaster. People aren't hiring so much when they're, oh I don't know, trying not to die of hypothermia for two weeks in their cold, dark houses! Ha-ha, Universe! Good one! You got me there! Nothing like foraging for kerosene to take your mind off a job search!

But things are looking up now.

They really are. Waaaaay up. Because right around the time I found a job? I starting flunking a class. That's right, me, woman who never flunked anything, flunked a test. Guess, gah-head, just GUESS what class I'm flunking (oh ha ha this is SO funny). Heck you already know anyway--ASTRONOMY--otherwise known as the study of the -- say it with me:

UNIVERSE!

Oh the irony! Oy the pain!

Oh. Mygod.

So, if you'll permit me, I'd just like to say to my good buddy the Universe (who apparently needs to take the stage at The Improv) that I think Jupiter is a big, fat, baby, sissy chicken planet! Okay? And I think that big, swirly, red storm dot is just STUPID, that's what! It's embarrassing, even if you can fit two Earths inside of it. I think it's a real load of CRAP that you can't stand on Jupiter's surface, okay? What--Jupiter thinks it's a big shot with all that liquid metallic hydrogen and at least sixty-three moons? Hey! I got your "Ganymede" right here!

(But thanks for the paycheck. 'preciate it.)