The Happiest Place on Earth?

I went to Disneyland yesterday. YES, I am almost 30, and NO, I do not have children. Why then was I there? A birthday. When it’s your birthday you get into the park free. And FREE is Someone I Know’s favorite word. I on the other hand did not get in free, and the idea of paying $69 was out of the question. Good thing Someone I Know found a guy who knew a guy on craigslist, who met us in the back parking lot of a gas station (which is to go unnamed), to sell us a discounted ticket. YES, we scalped tickets at Disneyland. NO, there’s nothing shady about it.

                   Side Note: It must be one of Disney’s sneaky little perverted jokes that entrance into the park costs 69 dollars.

What I realized in my 7 hours at the park (all I could stomach), is there is a definite divide between reality and what we remember as being real from our childhoods. For instance, Space Mountain is NOT the thrill seeking adventure through a starry sky that I remember from when I was barely tall enough to peek over the “You Must be This Tall to Ride” sign. Instead, it is a terrifying, nightmarish, gut-wrenching experience that left my 29 year OLD body quivering and light-headed. The sign should read: “You Must be This Tall and/or Stupid to Ride”.Needless to say, my days on roller-coasters are over if I couldn’t even stand Disney’s weak attempt at duplicating the Corkscrew. And it wasn’t just the main attraction that did me in… Honey I Shrunk the Audience – WTF? How can it be that I nearly broke the arm of my chair, screamed like I was being gutted, and begged to leave before the show was over, while a group of toddlers sat motionless in front of me, 3-D glasses on, laughing the entire time? And don’t even get me started with Star Tours – Disney’s version of Back to the Future. I broke a sweat, became pale in the face, and was convinced I was going to vomit on the 5-year-old in front of me.  Disneyland should never be referred to using the word PARK. HELL is much more accurate and offers a far better description.

To further support my theory, my assumption as a child was that Walt Disney was godlike; a Peter Pan of sorts;a kid in a grown man’s body… As I got older I realized he was more of a grown man trying to get IN kids’ bodies; simply put, white people’s precursor to Michael Jackson.  But by the time I was peeling out of the parking structure, onto the I5-North, speeding back to LA, I was convinced he was much more than a pervert. He was in fact an evil entrepreneur; a masochist; a sick freak who spent his time on earth playing with and exploiting the fears of the masses to make billions. It’s terrifying to think he may one day be thawed out, able to then build more Disneylands and sodomize our youth in his free time. Come to think of it, Walt’s life-story could be a new thrilling attraction at his own park – You wait in line for 13 hours because you can’t figure out how in the hell to use a FastPass, only to find out that the ride consists of animating little boys with phallic noses, taking it in the ass from some overweight, carni-looking billionaire, and being trapped in an ice-locker for eternity. Uhhh… I think I’ll stick with Space Mountain.

My experience begs another question: How do teens, frat boys and even some of my friends in their thirties eat pounds of magic brownies, inhale peanut butter and shroom sandwiches, and take large pulls from even larger bongs just seconds before entering the park? How is this even humanly possibly?

              If I wanted to piss myself while riding Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride, I would just do so.  I know the 3-year-old, whom I heard being reprimanded by his father for peeing his pants on It’s A Small World, would appreciate the gesture. Can you blame  him? That ride is extremely long – no one can hold it that long – and disturbing, especially the tour through Asia.

I definitely don’t need to be apprehended by Disney Security because I was caught, stripped down naked, diving from my boat at Pirates of the Caribbean, into the  swampy waters, dodging bullets being shot at me by plastic Johnny Depp lookalikes.  

These are the things that would happen if I were on drugs at Disneyland. I wasn’t even able to do it sober. It’s all fun and games until someone gets shipped off to the Mental Ward.

All in all, it was a fun day (I was paid to say that), but let it be known right now, on this blog, if my children ever see the inside of a theme park, it will NOT be with their mother.

The Bachelor? Try… The BASTARD!

48 hours ago Jason Mesnick was America’s favorite bachelor, but he went from hero to zero in one hour last night on ABC’s The Bachelor, and I just wouldn’t be doing my hob (hobby job) if I didn’t call him out for being such a DOUCHEBAG.

There is absolutely NO excuse for the maneuver this fickle pickle pulled. I don’t have the energy or the desire to explain it all now. If you have no idea what I’m talking about, try tuning into a reliable news source every once in awhile, like E! Entertainment. I do however have some things I would like to say to those involved: 

Melissa, though you are far from the brightest light on the menorah, you’re way too good for this retard. You need to get a little hopped up, make some bad decisions and forget all about that loser. In fact, I know a few guys who would fuck the bitterness right out of you if you’re ever up for it.

Molly, you’re a troll with no spine or self-respect. You and Rhianna should form a club. Maybe Stephen Hawking can join.  

DeAnna, you should change your locks and change your number ASAP because this dickhead will definitely be calling you next. Six more weeks with the troll and he’ll be calling every bachelorette he ever sent packing.

Chris Harrison, quit referring to the bachelor as “historic”. World Wars are historic. The Civil Rights Movement was historic. Britney shaving her head was historic. Fickle Pickle changing his mind, though extremely douchey, is NOT historic.

Ty, one word: Emancipation. 

And lastly, Jason… How no one ever realized that you’re about 5′6” and a giant pussy, I’ll never know, but kudos to pulling the wool over the eyes of America. If it had been just one girl who wasn’t good enough for you, I may have been able to take this ride. But you failed your first marriage, you failed with DeAnna, you let 24 girls slip right through your hands, you failed your second engagement and the cycle most likely continues from here, so… Maybe it’s you. If you have one friend who kills them-self, it’s most likely them. If you have three or more friends who kill themselves, there might be something wrong with YOU. You catch my drift?

Peace out, Douchebag. We don’t have room for you here in LA, so take that shit back to Seattle and concentrate on making sure your son doesn’t turn out like you.

Giving Thanks…

I’m thankful first and foremost for beer, dirties and parly twofers.

I’m thankful the Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants trilogy was put to rest after number two since the idea of a pair of jeans that fit both America Ferrera and that little Gilmore girl was just plain stupid to begin with.   

I’m thankful for the phrase, “road hard and put away wet”. For many reasons.

I’m thankful for the people who feed the impoverished and homeless at Thanksgiving, allowing the rest of us to hideaway in our cozy homes and completely ignore the tragic issue at hand.

I’m thankful it will no longer be considered ‘weird’ or ‘creepy’ to masturbate during the State of the Union Address.

I’m thankful for YouTube. Specifically, watch?v=fUSvXzYnQZM which makes me piss myself laughing, even under the worst of circumstances. Did you ever drink Bailey’s from a shoe?

I’m thankful for the worst of circumstances.

I’m thankful Dancing With the Stars allowed Brooke Burke to realize her full potential and hope it can do the same for Sarah Palin next season.

I’m thankful for this shitty, shitty economy because now it’s almost cool to be poor.

I’m thankful for Asian people, but really only the Japanese because I love sushi.

I’m thankful for my brothers and sisters, but really only the ones that still talk to me.

I’m thankful for Chelsea Handler and her dirty little hot-pocket for paving the way for foul-mouthed blonds with bad drinking habits across the globe.

I’m thankful Christian Audigier’s daughter turned 16 so she can start fucking all the douchebags who wear her dad’s clothes and simultaneously take some of the heat off those of us who who think guys who wear Ed Hardy are hideous.

I’m thankful for hemrhoid cream… For the sake of those men who wear Ed Hardy.

I’m thankful for meatless corndogs.

I’m thankful for the 30 minutes of complete escape Wheel of Fortune provides me on a nightly basis. For example: “I’d like to solve the puzzle… John Hamm Sandwich!” 

I’m thankful gas prices have gone down, but disappointed my roommate has become more gaseous.

I’m thankful that I’m almost 30 and won’t have to give anymore blowjobs. That’s the rule, right?

I’m thankful our forefathers were able to cover up the rape, pillage and murders they committed with a national holiday dedicated to overeating and watching football.

I’m thankful for my readers…both of you. Feel free to let me know what you are thankful for this Thanksgiving.

VOTE, Motherf&%$@#!

Today is Friday, October 31st – Halloween – and while I fully plan on blogging very soon about all the debaucherous shenanigans and well-thought-out costumes I witness this weekend, I feel compelled to send out this very important message to the 9 people who actually read this blog…

VOTE. VOTE. VOTE. VOTE. VOTE. VOTE. VOTE. VOTE. VOTE.

I’m sure you’re already planning on it, but if you’re anything like me, you can never figure out WHERE to vote. Finding your polling location is more difficult than finding your g-spot, only most people will spend more time searching for their glory button than they would a voting booth. If you can relate, this website will help… http://www.vote411.org. If you need help tipping the man in the boat, I’m sure there is a website that can assist you, but I stay away from that sort of Internet content. Most of the time.

Back to the issue at hand… So, you’re already voting and you know exactly where to go. You ask yourself, what else can I do? Answer: Maybe you know someone who doesn’t plan on voting. They will never admit this as they would then risk public flogging and be ostracized by friends, so use your best detective skills (dickskillz as I call them), and find that one friend who claims they will be voting, but who you know very well will be hiding out in a cold, empty movie theatre or playing Guitar Hero in their basement until the polls close. Drag this person to the polling booth, use physical force if you have to, and make them VOTE. If they’re unsure who to vote for you must do two things… 1. Tell them they’re retarded…there is one clear choice and give them a swift kick to the head. 2. Tell them to vote for OBAMA.

Now, if you really want to earn extra credit this election season, even more than those damn 3rd graders in Alaska, call a friend from a swing state and persuade them to get out there and VOTE…preferably for OBAMA. Currently we are on very shaky ground in Ohio, Missouri, South Carolina and Indiana, but it never hurts to call your grandparents at their retirement community in Florida, your militia friends in Michigan, or your Coke/Ex dealer in Vegas. 

We only have 4 days left, but a lot can happen in a short amount of time if we have HOPE…

Puck Off, Palin…I Nominate My Mom!

I want to start by saying that Sarah Palin seems like a sweet woman, good mom, intelligent, capable…okay, scratch that…she’s kind of likable. There we go…likable. Maybe. And she proved she can read a teleprompter. But is this the measure of the Vice Presidency? I know the past eight years have muddled the description of both President and Vice President – ‘dipshit’ became a requirement to hold the Presidential office, and ’smug asshole’ became the norm for Vice, but McPalin would take this country to a whole new level of stupid. The one good thing that could come from this dynamic duo teaming up is a good old fashioned, NRA approved hunting trip…If Palin is as good of a shot as Cheney, maybe we kill two Dodo Birds with one stone.

There will be those who argue that Sarah Palin’s speech at the RNC was impressive. I would argue that your expectations were LOW to begin with. What was so impressive? Was it her ‘I’m rubber, you’re glue’ tone delivered in that nasally, Fargo-esque voice? Or were you impressed with how she said “John Sssss. McCain” like she knew the biggest secret in town. Please, do NOT be fooled by this self proclaimed, small town girl’s lipstick-wearing-pit-bull routine. “I’m just your average hockey mom…” Come on… She was likable. That’s it. And I know plenty of other likable women whom I would NOT vote for, but at least take seriously, before I even thought about Sarah Palin.

On a serious note, what about Kay Bailey Hutchinson or Elizabeth Dole? I’m on the Biden train, but wouldn’t one of these women be a better choice for running mate? Why not Charlize Theron…she’s likable enough? Chelsea Handler (LOVE her)? My next door neighbor (a really cool chick)? Your Mom? My Mom…? The list goes on. The similarities between Sarah Palin and MY MOM are actually quite astounding and still MY MOM would be a better choice for VP. Take a looksie…

Palin was raised in a small town. MY mother was raised in a small town!

Palin served on the PTA…MY mother served on the PTA!

Palin is raising five kids with her Eskimo-husband Todd. MY MOM raised five kids, without A Todd around, while holding down a more-than-full-time job…two boys and three girls – NONE of which knocked anyone up or got knocked up at 17. Oooh, damn…point for Palin.

Palin was runner-up to Miss Alaska 1984…MY MOTHER was a Michigan Pageant Queen and WON! That means she actually went home with the crown. Take that, beotch.

Palin is a Hockey Mom (*note: if you drive the carpool once a month and provide Sunny D. for the kids, you are granted the coveted Hockey Mom status). MY MOM not only drove the carpool and gave out juice boxes, but she also attended every game AND coached 13 different teams for five different kids, over 20 years. That’s what the hockey world calls a Hat Trick. BAM. Puck off, Palin.

Palin was passionate about her efforts to cut wasteful spending…like the “luxury jet” that was “over the top” or her attempt to “muddle” through life without a personal chef… MY MOTHER could burn a pop-tart in a toaster, but she always had dinner (cereal or mac & cheese) on the table, she didn’t fly until she was 20, and she made a dollar stretch a mile. I’ll even guarantee she has the receipts to prove it. Sorry you had to forego your private jet, Sarah…Maybe you could’ve kept it if you didn’t spend so much on that Pearl Necklace you wore last night…Or was that a gift from Todd? 

Palin’s speech was so modest, she even admitted that she drives herself to work everyday. WOW…this is getting eerie, now…MY mom also drives herself to work. Cray-zee.

Since this whole election has turned into one giant shit show, I don’t see any reason why I can’t use this blog, 10 hours before McCain officially accepts the Republican nomination alongside his running mate, to nominate My MOM for Vice President 2008! We thank you ahead of time for your support and want you to know we are doing everything we can to have her trained to use a high powered rifle to kill innocent animals and/or people if they get in her way. AND, if it helps matters, she has no opinions on foreign policy either…JUST LIKE SARAH PALIN!

In summation, I’d just like to thank the Republicans, on behalf of Obama supporters everywhere, for choosing Palin, and in effect, banking on mediocrity to win this election. You are forever in my debt. -Love always and long live the Polar Bear, Harman

Why the 2008 Beijing Olympics are the BEST Ever…Until the 2012 Olympics!

China seems to have thought of EVERYTHING – they extradited their troublemakers to Shanghai, had the small-handed children of Mongolia craft Chairman Mao Wristwatches, encouraged the Red Army to smile more and then some…For the past ten days, I have wished nothing more than to be Chinese. Yep, I said it.

Without further ado, here are the top ten reasons why these Olympics are the bees’ knees.

#10. This guy’s main purpose is to fire invisible laser beams into the sky, ’seeding’ the clouds, making sure that the 2008 Olympic Athletes stay dry…With the exception of the athletes referred to in point #1. The Beijing Olympics will NEVER have to suffer through a summer rainstorm. I swear…Those Chinese think of EVERYTHING. Can I get a “what, what?” for my friend on the weather-ass-kicking nuke. God…? IS that you? You’re Asian!? I knew it all along!

#9. My parents went to the ‘84 Olympics and all I got was a lousy t-shirt that read, “My Parent’s Went to the 1984 Olympics and All I Got  Was This Lousy T-shirt.” I’m sure they thought it was VERY funny at the time. If only I was a 4-year-old girl, awaiting their return, now that the souvenirs are 100% first class…I am literally dying for a Coozie with Chairman Mao’s fat face on it.

#8. The Phelpster…And I’m not talking swimming prowess or a record breaking, eight gold medals – I’m talking about those size 14’s. That’s right, ladies. Who cares if he looks like the off-spring from a drunken night shared by John Krasinski and Nicholas Cage? It doesn’t matter. Big feet equals a Big Cockatiel. And a Big Cockatiel equals a lot of loud chirping going on all night long. Chirp, chirp.

#7. Anything and everything is considered a sport…First of all, there is no way in Hell I will ever believe that Trampoline is a sport. I was doing that shit long before they made it an Olympic sport. I was doing cart-wheels, flips, triple axle somersaults, spread eagles, AND full penetration on my family’s backyard trampoline, in the middle of a ass-backwards, republican neighborhood full of white supremacists, BY the time I was 15, so SUCK IT China! That’s thrilling…That would have qualified me for 9.00 rating in Difficulty. Secondly…Speed Walking? Come on…Ping-Pong? That broom/curling/sweeping bullshit? Stabbing American Tourists? You’ve got to hand it to them…The Chinese really did get inventive for 2008.

#6. You may have been lucky enough to pick up a pair of these trendy 2008-Olympic-Recycled-From-2008-New-Years-Festivities-Sunglasses. OR you were lucky enough to meet this guy. Either way, you walked away a winner.

 

 

 

 

 

 

#5. The SNACKS…Who doesn’t love a little Sea-Horse on a Stick or Fried Scorpion or Goat Lung Ball Soup? Tastes just like chicken. 

#4. The Five Friendlies, duh. I just want to say that whatever the creator of these five animae creatures – which are suppose to represent the five Olympic rings (don’t ask how) – whatever he was on, whatever he was smoking, whatever pills he was popping or dust he was sprinkling in his eyeballs, PLEASE – SHARE THE WEALTH! I want a one-way ticket on your well-planned trip! Not since the Tellatubbies hit America in ‘98 have we seen such bizarre, drug-induced behavior from non-sensiscal, G-Rated characters. I specifically like this image where the small balloon creatures closely resemble a mob of hairless testicles, holding a mosh pit in plastic grass. That’s symbolic, right? Personally speaking, the Five Friendlies really get my Olympic engine roaring. Well done Sun/Kim/Gin/Jan – whatever your name is.

#3. Fuck the air pollution. I’ve got two words for all you Olympic bound fools…BIRD FLU.

#2. The DELAY. Can someone please, please, please explain why the two most technologically advanced countries in the entire universe could NOT figure out how to offer the Pacific Standard Time Zone LIVE coverage of the Olympic games? I guess this is why the critically acclaimed, MTV reality show, The Hills, gave NBC a run for their money on Monday night. Fuck you NBC. And Fuck you China.

#1. The Olympic Committee has finally caught on to the timeless tradition of using SEX to SELL. Consequently, every 14-year-old boy on the planet sends their many thanks.

1.A. Bia and Branca Feres are twin Synchronized Swimmers from Brazil. As luck would have it, they fell into synchronized swimming when they discovered ‘cum guzzling’ was NOT an Olympic sport. I don’t think they’ll be wearing a Gold Medal around their necks any time soon, but I do know a few guys who would be willing to adorn those collar bones with some pearls. 

1.B. A female Swimmer, Laure Manadou, representing France, learned the hard way that WET NYLON can sometimes (always) be see-through. Ahhh…C’est la vie. The good news…there was no need to take home the Gold or the Silver for that matter – those Silver Dollar Pancakes are gift enough. 

1.C. And of course the United States gets in on the action. Who knows better how to exploit the female body then the same country who brought you Playboy, Hustler, Joe Francis, the porn industry, Bill Clinton, etc., We KNOW sex. Only problem is we have the bodies, but they’re matched with some butter faces. Note to the World…Kerry Walsh is NOT hot. Yes, she has an ass that makes Kim Kardashian’s cottage cheese milkshake melt in jealousy. BUT-HER FACE. What a mess. I’m just glad she’s good at volleyball so she has a shot in life. Is it me or is the standard issue volleyball uniform getting smaller and smaller?

I’m pretty sure that’s the signal for “one in the pink, fist in the stink.”

There you have it…The top ten reasons I loved the Beijing Olympics of 2008. Let’s go London…! You better start planning now because you have a lot to live up to.

Chris Martin Graduates…

…into the top ten artists in my iPod. For those of you who caught onto the title, let me hear a “what what” for the CW lineup this fall – Thank God someone in Burbank heard my cries for more sideburns and less “Girlfriends”. But let’s stick to the point…CMart has once again worked his way into my heart and I’m whistling Coldplay tunes like I did years ago, an insignificant sophomore humming Yellow on my way to my, now proven useless, Mythology 304 course. Last night’s concert not only exceeded expectations, but also made me cry AND pee in my pants (just a dribble). In all fairness, bathrooms were a six mile hike, up and down some gnarley stairs at the Forum and Fix You gets me every time. Not only was I surprised by an amazing laser light show and CMart’s presence and agility on stage, but a Jumbo Pacifico and Patron shots were only $9 a pop. The night was, to say the least, a phenomenal success and I have a Balenciaga full of neon colored, cellophane butterflies to prove it. Viva la Vida to Leems, Bump, Dubs, Hez and LW (nee Jadon)…I wouldn’t have wanted to be with anyone else or have anyone else in this world bare witness to Coldplay popping my cherry…I mean popping my CP cherry. Let’s face it…I’m running out of cherries that can be popped, so it was an honor to share that experience with all of you. It was such ‘a perfect day’.

Douchebag: The Official Mascot of Los Angeles

I attended a bachelorette party this past weekend for a great friend of mine. Celebrating comes easy to me – I’ll celebrate just about anything – birthdays, selling a script, a Piston’s win, the color green, Tuesdays, you catch my drift? I had the air conditioning fixed in my car last week. I celebrated that as well. So, needless to say, partying with my girlfriend in celebration of her upcoming nuptials came quite easily. Fourteen girls spent the weekend by the pool at the Viceroy, dining at great restaurants, learning to pole dance, ankle crunking at nightclubs, etc., all of which was wonderful. What wasn’t wonderful was the amount of douchebags roaming around LA. Their like our f-ing mascot. Granted, Hollywood imports a majority of these dickheads from the O.C., San Diego, and Redlands on the weekends, but nevertheless, they’re out there, and they’re wreaking havoc on our nightlife.

Take for instance, the three guys who were hanging out, a little too close for comfort, near our bachelorette’s table on Saturday night…They were, what I consider to be, the epitome of a Reject – and that’s me being nice.

Let me paint a really clear picture for you…They didn’t have a table, so they stood there, talking to each other, drooling over girls on the dance floor who wouldn’t give them the time of day. And most girls are whores, ready and willing to go home with almost anything, so you know this crew was bad news. They didn’t know assholes from elbows and they might as well have been standing there, holding each other’s mediocre pricks in their hands. I guess girls just aren’t attracted to overweight, Rogain-dependent, middle-aged Losers – go figure. We don’t care if you “work in real estate”, how much you can bench press, and your UCIrvine degree is NOT impressive. Did I mention, I towered over these guys (I’m 5′7”) and I’m pretty sure one of them had bigger tits than my sister, who has a pretty nice rack. I can say that because she’s my sister. Anyway, I know I don’t really come off this way, but I truly am sweet as sugar, and apparently very talkative when sloshed. So, I float over, champagne in hand and ask for a cig, figuring just this bit of conversation will make their night. I get a cig, they get attention from at least one person with a vagina – everybody wins. They claim they bummed theirs and have no more. Fine. No big deal. But as I walk away, I hear Douchebag #1 say “This place is really going downhill.” I whirl back around and see Douchbag #2 pull a pack of Parliments from his pocket. Ugh…DOOOOUUUUUCCCCCHHHHHEEEEBBBBBBAAAAAAAAAGGGGGG! I was trying to be nice by using them for a cigarette. (*btw, I only smoke when I’m drunk, Mom).

Let me just say, I consider myself to be kind of attractive – I’m no Jessica Alba or Sienna Miller, but I do alright. I wish I had said something right then, or slapped him, or stuck my stiletto in his eyeball, SWF style, but ever since an incident in college I’ve been trying to exercise self control, so instead I’ve decided to bitch about them on my blog, in hopes that this somehow finds it’s way to one of their corny, freaky, and pedophiliac myspace pages.

“Hey Douchebags – channeling King Reject himself, Brody Jenner, does not make you look cool, your studded jeans and Ed Hardy T-shirts are lame, using that much gel in your hair should be illegal and lay off the tanning beds for a bit – only LeeLo can pull off orange skin. Quit going to clubs. In fact, quit leaving your shithole apartments in general. There’s a reason why you’re all single and jacking each other off at night. And it’s not the quality of women surrounding you. Trust that. Why don’t you give up on your useless acting career – there are no roles for rejects with mantits - hop in your TransAm and go back to whatever low class, Floridian village you hail from. While you’re at it…when you see your mother this mother’s day, give her a slap across the face, from me, for raising such a toolbag. I’m pretty sure your dad’s are not around - and you can’t blame them – I would’ve split too, the second you hit puberty and I realized you were going to be a world class retard who never accomplishes a thing in life. The only thing going “downhill” is each of you on each other, because a little friendly tea-bagging from your “bros” is all the action you’re going to be able to get in life. Best of luck.”

*A note to all my friends…If you know these guys or even just know guys like this, please forward this on and make sure this important message is read by any and all douchebags out there.

Remember, we CAN make a difference.

happy belated bEarthday!

With all this green hubalub going on surrounding Earth Week, I figured I should do what I’m best at and join the party. Though I prefer the other green holiday…St. Patricks Day (a day where it’s not only okay, but encouraged, to drink ’til you’re vomiting on yourself, in a public restroom, while making out with several strangers, one of whom is dressed like a leprechaun), I guess I can also find a place in my heart to celebrate the birthday of our dear Mother Earth. She should be honored. My own mother hasn’t received even a birthday card since ‘84 (and my pre-school teacher made me make that one). Anyway, it’s Earth Week. And if I’m correct (which is rare), yesterday was Earth Day, so Happy Belated Bearthday!

The Green phenomenon is wild. Al Gore makes a little film called an Inconvenient Truth and suddenly everyone jumps on his back, like a clown giving piggy back rides at the state fair. Don’t get me wrong…I love being green, especially since I heard BEER may be global warming’s next victim. And because Leo’s green. I do everything Leo does, but I have my own ideas for ways to go “Green” and help Save the Planet.

Here are my Top 3 (was going to be 5, but I’m feeling a little lazy) Green Tips:

1. It’s no big secret that we should all make efforts to maintain an Earth-Friendly Diet. Smartie Green People tell us to buy local/organic foods, eat foods that are in season, cut down on meat consumption, yada, yada, yada. The U.N. Food and Agricultural Organization blames 18% of greenhouse gas emissions on the production, transportation and consumption of red meat. (*Note: I guess I have to now thank Tyra for her Beef Curtains episode as I have not touched red meat since it aired). Essentially, meat eaters are leaving giant, shit-kicking carbon boot prints on the Earth while Vegetarians are barely tip-toeing on our land. So, yeah, these tips are effective, but I think I have a better solution…something that will make a much bigger impact. Tip #1…STARVE YOUR CHILDREN. That’s right. Chances are your kid’s already a tug-boat, but if not, it’s only a matter of time. Today’s youth has purchased a one way ticket on the Obesity Train, so, starve the little fucker. Yeah, they’ll probably whine and cry at first, but eventually hunger pains subside, the starvation process begins, the stomach will begin feeding on it’s own bile, and then, soon enough, the stomach will shrink and the amount of food the child is then dependent on will drastically decrease. (*Note – if you’re child is a maniac and has been prescribed Ritalin, problem solved… Hungry kids have no energy!) Now, I’m not proposing you starve your kid forever. Every once in awhile, toss the little shit a cucumber or a head of broccoli (locally grown, of course) and teach him/her a lesson in rationing. While the kid learns an important survival tool, AND grows thinner, you’ll be doing your part to keep Earth green. The bonus… Nothing is better than a skinny, self-sufficient child with low energy.

2. Every year the U.S. imports more shit (oil, food, flowers, paper, steel, petroleum, textiles, etc.) than any other country in the world. America is THE bully on the playground, taking all the smaller kids’ oreo cookies, licking the cream out, and throwing the less valued cookie part back in their face. And the fact is, the act of importing directly contributes to global warming. Whether it’s having wild orchids imported from Thailand or adopting an orphan from Russia, the impact that transportation has on the Earth is tremendous. The Smartie Green Peeps tell us to decrease our dependence on foreign commodities. Ha. They’ve obviously never slept on silk sheets imported from Bhaglapur. What everyone should realize by now, is that we have needs, and we ARE America, so our needs are much more important than the needs of others. I have come to terms and made my peace with the idea of taking from those less fortunate. Survival of the fittest, right? How else are we going to power our SUV’s or heat our swimming pools or be able to order the Toro at Nobu? Oh, the dilemma… But there is one thing we can do to lessen the impact our imports have on global warming…BAN CHILD LABOR LAWS and LEGALIZE U.S. SWEATSHOPS. We are the ultimate consumers so why not manufacture in-house? Not only will the cost of Nikes made in our own sweatshops decrease, but we’ll no longer have to import textiles and thus, reduce the U.S. impact on global warming. I’m surprised Walmart didn’t come up with this idea long ago. In fact, every country should do as the west does and BAN child labor laws. Fuck ‘em. Kids should work. And they should do it for free, in haphazard conditions, without bathroom breaks and with little food. In fact, if we can enslave the kids who are already being starved, this won’t even be a problem. The bonus…Gap is in the clear, Kids learn the value of a dollar, and preserve the Earth they stand to inherit.

3. Global Warming is caused by toxic gases which are released into the atmosphere. These gases have undoubtedly led to the melting of the polar ice cap at an unthinkable rate. The Smartie Green Peeps are constantly reminding us of ways to reduce our carbon footprint and decrease the amount of toxins released into the air. But what about all those nasty little skanks running around without underwear, spreading their legs whenever some rich douche bag in studded jeans and an Ed Hardy T-shirt gives them a pervy-wink? What about the toxins they’re releasing into the earth’s atmosphere every time they climb out of an Escalade? Shouldn’t we re-focus our efforts to making their brown-eyes “green”? And this brings me to   Tip #3…UNIVERSAL CORKAGE FEE (if you don’t keep your legs crossed, put on some underwear and keep your stink hole closed, you will be FINED). What if we shove a permanent cork up Leelo’s stinky pink? What if we sew Brit-Brit’s hot pocket shut like the chick on ANTM? And Paris’s entire lower body, below that disgusting naval ring, should be amputated, Ruinsstyle, just for the safety of the free world and my sanity. This will not only save a good portion of the population, whose hometown was unlucky enough to end up on the Good Charlotte tour, from inevitable STD’s, but will also STOP the emissions of what can only be classified as the “worst of the worst” greenhouse gases. It’s no wonder LA’s covered in a nasty smog. Let’s just say, whatever is leaking from these chicks’ effaces is NOT okay. Why else would the term “firecrotch” have been invented?  

So, there we have it… Maybe my ideas aren’t as innovativeas changing out the light bulbs in your house to energy efficient ones or buying a hybrid vehicle, but I’m pretty confident, if we can implement my “green” ideas into our everyday lives, we can make a difference.

If this blog has left you completely unsatisfied with ways you can make a difference, please refer to the following websites, written by the real Smartie Green People who actually have a clue what the fuck they’re talking about when it comes to saving the planet:

www.greenisthenewpink.org  www.orGLAMic.wordpress.com

Your humbled green servent, Harman

National Slimebag Day

Lately it seems that covering up a good sex scandal is getting harder and harder…damn it…whatever happended to the good ’ol days? 

With a wide circulation of gossip magazines, television, the internet and the relatively new addition of sites such as YouTube, there’s just no escaping the public humiliation you’re bound to face if you cheat on your wife, solicit sex in a bathroom stall, sexually harass your intern, fondle a minor or pay thousands for a prosititute.

What I’ve been trying to wrap my head around is why we seem to care so much about some Idaho Senator’s sexual indescretions or a New York Governor’s hooker obsession. We don’t care if Brad fucks Angelina while he’s still married to Jen. We didn’t see him make a public apology and hand over his SAG Card. Why? It’s not because he doesn’t have a political agenda. Between him and Angelina they’ve done more to better this world than a Senator/Governor/President does in a lifetime. No…we forgive and forget because he’s hot. And so is Angelina. And we like to imagine them having dirty sex in a movie trailer. We do NOT, however, want to imagine Larry Craig balls deep in some stranger’s mouth, in an airport restroom. But that’s beside the point. What it all comes down to is HONESTY. We, the American People, just don’t want to be lied to. Don’t piss down my back and tell me it’s raining. You know what I mean?

So in an effort to STOP THE LIES, I suggest we do away with the public humiliation and rather, embrace their deviant acts by creating a day to celebrate our political leaders who have been involved in the dirtiest of sex scandals. Political figures whom I figure just never learned how to draw inside the lines because they repeatedly use their penises like Harold used his Purple Crayon, marking their territory all over, what should be, our FINE country.

The sex scandal stretches as far back as George Washington’s rumored extramarital affairs. Thomas Jefferson was fucking his slave. Warren G. Harding is rumored to have been poisoned by his wife when she discovered he was having an affair. Alexander Hamilton was dropping batches left and right, and NOT in his wife. Presidents like JFK, FDR and Dwight D. Eisenhower made it kind of “cool” to sleep around. I mean, JFK was a stud, right? Marilyn Monroe, Angie Dickinson, Inga Arvad, some stripper named Blaze, a few White House secretaries he endearingly referred to as “Fiddle” and “Faddle”. Nevermind he was married to America’s sweetheart, Jackie O., there was a Cuban Missile crisis going on in our young president’s trousers.

The list goes on and on…civic leaders, “upstanding moralists” who made it their mission to spread their seed…Newt Gingrich was getting BJ’s from a campaign worker. David Vitter (R-LA) was a client of the DC Madam. Mark Fowley (R-FL) had a fondness for little boys. Bob Allen (R-FL) solicited an undercover cop for oral sex valued at $20. Ken Calvert, a Christian Coalition Cheerleader was nabbed, nabbing a prosititute in the back seat of his car and tried to flee the scene. Silly Christian…tricks are for kids (a.k.a., drunk, horny frat boys on spring break in Vegas).

And who can forget Clarence Thomas asking Anita Hill if there was a “pubic hair” in his coke, or if she ever dined at “Long Dong Silver.” If there were more than 365 days in a year, I’d give Clarence his own day just for being witty and slimy all at the same time.

And of course we have Clinton and Monica. Clinton and Jen Flowers. Clinton and Juanita Broaddrick. Clinton and…shall I continue?

McGreevy kept his lover on the payroll. That’s right…some of your tax dollars went to keeping his manwhore happy.

Recording to reports, Eliot Spitzer may have spent upwards of $80,000.00 on prostitutes over the past ten years. Just to put this in perspective, If the NY Spermanator had invested that money in political endeavors, he would’ve been a hero. Try this on for size…13,000,000 American Children - that’s 1 in 5 - live in households that are hungry…it costs roughly $34/year to feed a child in school. Spitzer could have single handedly paid for 235 kids to eat a healthy breakfast and lunch for 10 years. Way to go, dipshit. And, P.S., Spitz, you’re whore was beat. If you’re paying $4700.00 a pop, that stinkbag better be good looking, at least.

Even our beloved George W. Bush has had some scandal brushed under the rug…does anyone find it odd that the two women in our president’s past, one who cried “rape” (Margie Schoedinger) and one stripper who claims the two had an affair (Tammy Phillips), have turned up either DEAD or MISSING? Hmmm? Something smells fishy and it’s not just GDubs finger.

I could go on and on all day long, but I have to remember my main point…Let’s not beat these scoundrels down. Let’s celebrate their lack of moral code, infedelities, disgusting obsessions, and pedophilic urges. Come on…Are you with me?!

I declare May 1st, 2008 (just because), the first annual NATIONAL SLIMEBAG DAY. So get ready…it’s coming soon!

What shall you do to celebrate, you ask?  Well, first of all, call in sick to work, start your morning off with a shot, (cum shots are preferred), spend a small fortune (hopefully your child’s college tuition) on some low rent hooker, stalk some pre-schoolers, solicit a stranger on the street for a BJ, smoke a cigar that’s been soaked in vagina, and have a good time…just be honest when you do it.

And my final plea…Please, please, please Obama (I guess this goes for Hillary, as well) keep your dick in your pants. I want to believe in Change.