Margerie Brubaker calls Mulligan’s bar over Obama t-shirts

Margerie Brubaker makes a Very Important Phonecall and speaks with Mulligan’s bar owner Mike Norman of Marietta, GA after learning about the sale of t-shirts depicting presidential candidate Barack Obama as a monkey:

Sex, Drugs and Bedpans - ep. 1

“Sex and the City” in 40 years:

Betty Butterfield on Sylvia Browne

Lord, how’s Sylvia Browne going to find work now that Montel Williams is going off the air?  Sylvia had better hope Dr. Phil can start using her.

Prom Memories

I was just asking, because I used to pick up a lot
of my “work outfits” off the sale rack…

Today’s top story on the Pink Hilton blog was about some poor teen debutante who showed up at her school’s formal dance wearing something oh-so-sheer. Needless to say, when she refused to leave the party, they had her busted.

I was surprised when I saw the outfit. I always thought you wore something with big puffy sleeves (to match your hair) when you went to a prom. I guess they spent all of their money on their outfits and couldn’t afford Teen magazine’s Special Prom Issue.

- “I want to be prom queen!”
- “You go, girlfriend. I’m gonna yodel.”

Bill O’Reilly: What a pro!

FOX “News” spokesmodel Bill O’Reilly shows that he’s always been the ultimate professional. I had no idea he used to work for “Inside Edition.” What a nice program that was.

UPDATE: ” This video is no longer available due to a copyright claim by CBS Broadcasting, Inc” Oh please. I’m sure Bill O. saw this on Youtube and called Deborah Norville himself and begged the legal team to contact Youtube and delete this video (and all its copies). I’ll post it again when I can find it.

Roseanne and George Clooney

Five days ago, Roseanne used her blog to plug this essay she wrote about her long-time friend and former “Roseanne” costar, George Clooney.

Today, she posted another Clooney blog, yet this one was not quite so warm-n-fuzzy:

“how unfortunate and ungracious… …were George Clooney’s musings about our times together in response to my adoring words about him in time mags hot 100 issue. The fact that George makes a joke of our love is sad to me. I am considering litigation.”

The weird thing is… when I read the post on my blog feed earlier, it read something completely different (but similar in tone), referencing him using “one of my oldest and dirtiest jokes,” but acting like it was a come-on. (The words in quotes are a paraphrase; since she altered the post, I don’t have the original wording.)

The joke he used, was part of this story in “People” magazine:

Clooney: “Don’t you want Roseanne writing your obit? I worked on her first series, and when I met her she said, ‘You’re really good looking, why don’t you take me out behind the stage and make me stink.’ She was unbelievably kind to me at a time when no one was.”

It’s odd to me that she would immediately find fault with her friend George Clooney, without speculating that perhaps a rag like “People” might have edited his comments (for space, or spin), and left out parts of the complete chatfest. I mean, come on. After all, it’s their heading which reads: George Clooney Reveals Roseanne Barr’s Pickup Line. C’mon Roseanne, give gorgeous George the benefit of the doubt. How many trashy covers and stories did “People” subject you to back in the day? Of course, let’s be fair. Maybe G.C. really is a dog in heat. I bet those “Facts of Life” girls have some tales to tell….

Anyhow, the whole reason I am posting this is because, well, I used to know this one-legged hooker named Wall-eyed Wendy who actually used to use a very similar line (”Take me behind the 7-11 and make me stink, man!”) as a way to pick up tricks. It worked really well for her, at least until that one day when her fake leg shot down a wide sidewalk grate. Whoops! Let’s just say that little incident put Wendy right into retirement.

Cool iGoogle stuff of the moment - #2

As a happy user of iGoogle (or, as I like to call it when I pass perfect strangers on the sidewalk, The Google Homepage), one of my favorite Gadgets is a little game called Flood It:

The object of the game is to flood the whole board with one color in less than 25 steps. You start from the top left corner and progress by selecting one of the colored balls on the left. When you change your current area color, every adjacent square with the same color also changes, that way you can flood other areas on the board. Play this fun and addictive game from your Google Homepage.

Here’s the game I just played (I lost):

• Get the Flood It gadget for your iGoogle page

Biscuits, Bitches and George Foreman

Hey all ya’ll. I just got back from Kentucky, and all I can say is that the McDonald’s biscuits taste the same no matter where you are in this vast land we call America. God, I had a hell of a time, and sure am glad to be back in Wheelie.

What happened was this. At band practice on Thursday night, Pepper sprang on us that he’d gotten us a gig in a place called Owensboro, KY. It’s a real and true place; you can check it on a map. I actually had heard of it before, because it is the hometown of some “Real World: Season 2″ person (I forget his name). I only know that because I saw an agent about appearing on that show (I guess they were looking for a hooker-slash-adult film actress at that time), but I was disqualified because I lied about my age on the application and because I said I had a phobia of tight enclosed places and was told they needed people to make “confessions” videos in a little booth that was being built in the Real World house.

You think THIS is the “real world?” Try living in an El Camino with
three other people for a month, and then we’ll talk real.

So back to the band. We left at the crack of noon on Friday, because we had a 5+ hour roadtrip to the venue. Well… five hours turned into eight hours when Pepper ran over a George Foreman grill that someone had thrown out onto the highway. Now most people would have stopped and collected something that nifty, but not Pepper. He had to prove that he could hit that thing and make the car airborne (did he think it was a ramp?); needless to say, all we got was a flat tire and I was the only one with the mechanical skills to change the damn thing. Everything was working out swell, too, until the jack flew out from under the back end and broke and sent the car right down onto the asphalt. Personally I blame the b-i-g chick who refused to get out of the back seat while I was changing the tire. All that extra weight, well… you figure it out.

I was so mad after that, I made the other four people get out and lift the car up and hold it so I could swap the tires. Pepper claims holding onto the bumper with his “playing fingers” bungled his hands all up, so he was being a real drama queen about going on with the show. If anyone should have been upset, it should have been me, because I was traveling in my stage outfit, and left half my glitter somewhere around the MO/KY state line.

By the time we rolled in to the venue - Skunk as a Dunk (talk about a bad play on words) - Pepper was bitching like an old woman. He conferred with the owner/bartender, and we were summarily dismissed, while a back-up band called The Hose Heads entertained the crowd with numbers like “Cheerios Depression,” “Ball Peen Justice” and “What is that Smell Coming from Under My Porch?” The owner felt bad for us since we came all that way, so he gave all of us a bowl of corn chips to share. We should have known it was a marketing gimmick, because all that salt consumption had us ordering beers.

After we left the bar, I was goofing around and “teaching” the other four how to pick up tricks, and somehow I ended getting us all busted for solicitation. Yikes. After some sweet talking at the station, I cleared up the whole mess and got us all released. Well, almost. Turns out Pepper had an outstanding warrant in that state, so now the other three think I staged the whole thing as a coup to try and overthrow The Twisted Sporks and take over as lead singer. I guess that’s not a bad idea, now that I think about it.

Anyhow, to calm down the others, I had to pop for breakfast on the way home, which is where the aforementioned biscuits came in. It doesn’t take much to bribe a trio of angry people over to your side.

My American Idol email and stuff

Hey people. Betty Nut from Las Vegas here. I’ve been keeping busy with dates and work and extracurricular activities and stuff. I gave up that damn “American Idol” when Paula Abdul proved it was all faked, but today I found out my fan mail to the Vote For The Worst (Idol) webpage was printed on the webpage:

“I’m an old lady and I don’t know why all these young kids are getting all bent out of shape about your web page and stuff. This damn “American Idols” show is crooked, and any fool can see that. They try to say it’s a search for a huge talent, and then they spend the first half of the series showing us people who can’t even sing and stuff. After they humiliate a bunch of people, they stick up there a bunch of stick thin people and stuff. They want a pop singer they can exploit the hell out of, so they make these overworked sweatshop kids sing songs from 60s, 70s, Beatles, Neil Diamonds and Maria Carey, none of who can sing like her… so of course they get dissed and stuff. That shit ain’t pop songs, so what did they expect? And what’s up with this Andrew Lord Webber? I mean, hello. I can’t watch too many channels because my remote broke, so I am stuck with watching this or NCIS, which sucks even worse. I love it when that Brooke girl effs it all up, it’s about the only interesting thing to see on that show. MEMO to Ryan and Simon: your homophonic jokes aren’t funny and never were. And can someone get Ryan a box to stand on? Even the short girls tower over him. Anyway, back to Brooke. I voted for her and will continue to do so. I am on a fixed income and don’t have a lot of “fun money,” so this Vote For the Worst site is sheer entertainment for me. Keep it up. And to all the young whiners out there, get the eff over it! If you want something to complain about, think about how you are all being screwed over by FOX and stuff. Yeah.” -Betty

Now I think my next campaign will be against “Dancing with the Stars” and stuff.

Have a nice Mother’s Day to all you mothers.

Betty Nut from Las Vegas

*gag*

I love you, I tattoo you…

I haven’t been paying too close attention to that whole Mariah Carey marriage story, because frankly I don’t care about Mariah Carey. But today I heard some gossip that it must really be a marriage that’s gonna last, because the bride and her groom exchanged tattoos to profess their love to the world.

You know, I think that is a dumb way to express True Love. You should just ask someone who’s made the same mistake decision.

I think this look was from the the season
Roseanne worked at Chicken Divine…