Top 10 Reality Show Meltdowns

Don't lie: You don't watch reality TV to see how much cream cheese your favorite cast member puts on her bagel every morning. You watch to see juicy drama unfold. And when you finally witness some kind of meltdown, it somehow makes all the invested TV time seem a little bit more valid. (Right? Or is that just me?)

Here, I salute 10 of my favorite reality show meltdowns.

10. Michael cries for Mommy
One of the most memorable reality-show exits came courtesy of HGTV's Design Star contestant Michael Stribling, who was full of smart-assery and venom during the competitions. But when he was eliminated, he melted like a Popsicle in a microwave. "This is not the end of me. I have a lot to offer." His face reddened and the tears started flowing. "I just didn't want to disappoint my mom. I want my mom right now. I want my mom."

9. Kesan's slow burn
Getting into arguments over the one house telephone is a common instigator on reality shows. But once Kesan and Creepa's phone fight ended on From G's to Gents, Kesan couldn't let it go. While the rest of the house slept, he stayed awake all night, slowly stewing into an hours-long, sleep-deprived meltdown. "I want revenge," he said. "At this point, everyone is a target and they better watch their backs." By the next day, he was evilly caressing an ink pen and telling housemates, "Next person who say something to me, I'ma try and kill ‘em."
Nobody needed a Bic to the eyeball; the G's snitched on him and home he went.

8. Kim Kardashian abandons her fam
In a days-long tantrum that spanned two episodes of Keeping Up With the Kardashians, Kim finally reached her breaking point while on a family ski trip to Colorado. She and her sisters had been arguing over her purchase of a Bentley and Kim had already swung a giant, full leather satchel at Khloe's head. Once in Colorado, Kim ignored the family in favor of her Blackberry. Kris threw Kim's PDA on the carpet, so Kim found the entire family's phone and started hurling them from the balcony. Then she walked out into the snowy wonderland – wearing heels, if my memory proves correct, and pulling her rolling suitcase behind her – to go back home.

7. Sharon Osbourne douses Megan
Megan Hauserman has made a career of backstabbing people on reality shows, and she definitely rubbed Charm School headmistress/mentor Sharon Osbourne the wrong way. But all hell broke loose at the reunion finale, when a drunken, bikini-clad Megan was full of high-pitched screeches and interruptions. Finally, Sharon calmly told Megan that she should be spayed. Then Megan implied the only reason Sharon was famous was for marrying Ozzy. And Sharon got up, cleared her throat and threw a glass of water all over Megan.
Needless to say, Ricki Lake has replaced Sharon as Charm School leader.

6. Joan and Melissa Rivers: Consummate Professionals
Somehow, the Rivers' missed the whole concept of Celebrity Apprentice: It's a game show where people get kicked off week by week. Upon elimination, Melissa was the sorest loser out there. Instead of leaving with dignity, she deemed her fellow competitors – among other bleeped-out things – "whore pit vipers." Mom Joan got in on the name-calling, too, showing where Melissa learned her sportsmanship skills.

5. Tyra blows a gasket
On America's Next Top Model, Tyra Banks' normal personality is that of a mentor, albeit a goofy one, who guides her potential protegees with a firm but gentle hand. But when season four contestant Tiffany displayed a bad attitude and complete indifference, you could visibly see the horns rise from the back of Tyra's head as she exploded in anger, screaming at Tiffany to "SHUT UP!" before reading her the riot act.

4. Bad Girls Beat Down
It's hard to say exactly what provoked Amber's beatdown during a Mexican vacation on the most recent season of the Bad Girls Club. Amber had annoyed the other girls all season, but on this night, Amber had been minding her own business, dancing alone in a nightclub. But when the night came to an end, the other drunken cast members all attacked Amber outside the club, and began kicking her as she laid out on the sidewalk. Amber required medical attention and the cops were called in, but the worst part was that some girls had absolutely no remorse.

3. Sgt. Harvey vs. Screech

While on Celebrity Fit Club, Dustin "Screech" Diamond alienated all his castmates by talking incessantly about his porn tape and his male unit. He took it a step further when he personally insulted all of them, but when he threatened ex-Marine/fitness expert/CFC judge, Sgt. Harvey Walden, Screech was lucky to escape with his life. "You must be out your mind!," Walden screamed. "DON'T YOU EVER F-ING THREATEN ME! I will wear your ass out! ... I'm here to help your fat ass. ... Don't you ever in your f-ing cartoon life ever f-ing threaten me, bitch. I will wear your ass out! You take that to your porn convention!"

2. CT jumps to conclusions
Real World alum CT is no stranger to televised skirmishes. But literally moments into the season premiere of Real World Road Rules Duel II, CT lost his marbles because someone told his ex, Diem, that he had (already) hooked up with busty blonde Shauvon. Katie spilled the beans, but CT assumed it was Adam -- who is half his size and was dressed in a full set of pajamas for a costume party -- and beat the stuffing out of him. CT promised: "I will smash his head and eat it!"

1. Vanilla Ice brings the heat
The Surreal Life Fame Games brought back several of VH1 Surreal Life alum to compete for $100,000. Toward the end of the show, Ron Jeremy cast his vote to eliminate his chum, Vanilla Ice and the Iceman had a meltdown, destroying much of the show's set. He hurled vases, broke giant stage lights, crushed a drum set and screamed in Ron Jeremy's face: "You swore on your mother's grave! BACKSTABBER!" The rest of the cast calmly watched in horror, speechless. Later, Ice proclaimed, "I put him on my album, I told everyone how cool he was." That's OK, Vanilla. We doubt anyone heard it.


Got any favorites I missed?

Stupid signs

Today I was driving home and saw a sign up at a Valvoline oil change place that said, "Now hiring great people!"

Really? Doesn't that go without saying? You never see a sign that says: "Now hiring total assholes!"

Seriously.

... And she had rage in her eyes ...

I woke up in a really good mood today. I got to sleep in, the house was totally clean, I received all my new nursery stuff yesterday, and my mom sent a gift card to buy our new crib. (Thanks, mom!)

So I headed over to Target with my gift card and a big smile. While I was there, I saw the cutest little baby outfits on sale for $5, so I grabbed a couple. It just kept getting better.

I got up front and paid for my stuff, and then had to wait while they brought the crib from the stockroom so I chatted a bit with the teenaged girl at the register.

She said she loved baby clothes, and proceeded to tell me that she had a newborn daughter and a 3-year-old son. Of course, I congratulated her on her newborn and she talked a little more about her kids.

There was a pause, and then she said to me, "So are these things a gift for your new grandchild?"

And at that moment, I had my first bout with pregnancy-induced rage. There was no gradual stewing that happened... I went from cheerful to GO FUCK YOURSELF in .5 seconds. I think I have only ever been that pissed off/hurt three or four times in my life, and they all were results of too much alcohol consumption.

Maybe to her young ass, I looked like an old hag. Or maybe in her redneck yokel family, everyone is a grandmother by their mid-30s. But neither of those things changed the fact that I wanted to CLIMB OVER THE COUNTER AND CRUSH IN HER FUCKING SKULL.

But in my pregnant state, I was not agile enough to reach over and JAM THE HANGERS FROM THE BABY OUTFITS INTO HER WHORISH EYE SOCKETS.

I know, I'm not 25 anymore, but a grandmother??????

So I just replied, "No. And I think I'll wait over here."

See? I'm already a good mother. Holding my temper means that Nicholas will not be born in jail. But I better not see that girl later this summer...

TV Throwdown: Who Is More Annoying? Octo-Mom Vs. Bachelor Dad

Let's cut to the chase. I am so totally sick of seeing The Bachelor's Jason Mesnick and Nadya Suleman (aka Octo-Mom) on TV that I'm considering reading more books, just so I don't accidentally have to watch another repetitive interview in HD.

Both parties claim they're not out for attention, but neither seems to be fading into the sunset. So, who's the most annoying of the omnipresent pair? Glad you asked. We pitted them against each other to find out. (Remember, a point in someone's favor means they're more annoying, so the winner here is really the loser.)

TV APPEARANCES:
Jason is not only The Bachelor's first dad, he's the only to require a second After the Final Rose update program. Since that time, we've witnessed him spew his Melissa apologies to Ellen Degeneres, Bonnie Hunt and on Extra, to name just a few. Plus, every other television entertainment show seems to have daily tidbits about him and/or his two ladies.
Nadya is on her post-procreation publicity tour, sitting down almost daily with news magazines, filming segments for The Insider and more. On Tuesday night alone, she was on Dr. Phil, Inside Edition, Entertainment Tonight (twice in a 30 minute show!) and Extra. I actually had dreams about her that night.
Kill me now.
Octo-Mom: 1
Bachelor Dad: 0

MAGAZINE COVERS:
Of course, magazine covers depend on the week's happenings. And with the whole Chris Brown/Rihanna thing going on, both Jason and Nadya have been mostly relegated to inside stories. But Jason's mug was front on center (with Molly) on People magazine, and he makes the cover of this week's Us Weekly (with ex-fiance Melissa Rycroft) as well. (Octo-Mom gets a small cover photo and tease on the same issue.)
Octo-Mom:1
Bachelor Dad: 1


PARENTING ABILITY:
Jason is billed as a single father, but he shares custody of Ty 50-50 with his ex-wife. So that's a two-to-one parent ratio, and a marriage to Molly would make three parental units. We are slightly concerned about Jason letting Ty's tantrums rule the roost, but at least he has a job and a stable home.
Nadya, who already had six kids, is unemployed, on food stamps and soliciting donations on her website to help raise her 14 children.
She recently accepted an offer of free, round-the-clock nurses worth $135K a month, and her dad just bought her a new house. But she clearly cannot care for 14 children (many with health concerns) alone — and they are what's important here. When one of her six older children expressed depression and sadness over the new family sitch, she "held him for 10 minutes, and he held me back, and that's all he needed." Or is that just all you had time for, SuperMom?)
Octo-Mom: 2
Bachelor Dad: 1


REALITY SHOWS:
Thanks to reality TV, Jason has gone from the broken-hearted dad from The Bachelorette, to perhaps the most popular Bachelor ever, to arguably the biggest jackass who has ever been on either show. We never found him that compelling on either program, but we can't deny his public appeal.
At first, Octo-Mom reportedly turned down the free nurses because they wouldn't allow her to film a reality show. However, she will now be doing "reality show" segments for The Insider and already has a daily video blog for Radar Online. (TMZ also reports Nadya was offered a million bucks to do porn. There's no word on her decision, but we hope she agrees that her lady parts have seen enough activity to last several lifetimes.)
Still, reality shows are why we even know who Jason is.
Octo-Mom: 2
Bachelor Dad: 2

MENTAL STABILITY:
Besides the fact that he's wishy-washy, Jason is a freaking tear factory. I've had crazy pregnancy hormones for almost six months, and I've cried less in that time than Jason in one TV appearance. Kleenex should hire him as an official spokesperson.
Octo-Mom — who, at first glace, should be the one bawling her eyes out — seems to remain in a state of eternal, calm bliss. Listen, lady: If Jon and Kate are frazzled over their 8 kids in their $1.3 million dollar home, you should be freaking the hell out right now. She's also reportedly offered to sell the video of her octo-birth to the highest bidder. Um, gross.
Perhaps her recently-departed publicist said it best: "This woman is nuts."
Ya think?
Octo-Mom: 3
Bachelor Dad: 2

Bottom line: Eventually the fervor for The Bachelor will die down – it always does – and for that, we cannot wait. But we anticipate constant updates on Nadya's children/mothering skills/parents/dating life, etc. for years to come – particularly if she keeps getting paid for her stories. Being a media whore has become her meal ticket.
We totally care about the welfare of the children, but good grief. Octo-Mom and the media need a nice, long vacation from one another.

Top 10 Unforgettable Reality TV Moments

So, we're totally sick of The Bachelor Jason Mesnick and his love triangle of indecision. But it is, perhaps, the most interesting thing to ever happen in the history of the show.... which got us thinking about other reality show happenings that are etched in our memory for all eternity.

We present our Top 10 Unforgettable Reality Show Moments:

10. Vicki gets crushed in the head with a football
If you've ever watched The Real Housewives of Orange County, then you probably think Vicki is totally annoying. Between her incessant "woo-hoos!," the micro-management of her grown children and her obsession with her laptop – even when she's out with friends – it's hard not to want to smack her. So this past season, when she was on a boat with friends and was accidentally smashed in the head with heavy, water-soaked football, we chuckled a little. OK, a lot. It's been a long time coming.

9. Santino channels Tim Gunn
Part of the fun of watching Project Runway is seeing the designers chat/bicker/clown around in the work room. But we think former contestant Santino Rice's dead-on impersonations of mentor Tim Gunn were classic. Santino perfected Tim's speech patterns, enunciation and voice. Highlights: "Where's Andrae?" and his Tim Gunn rendition of Nine Inch Nails' "Closer to God."

8. Ruthie goes to rehab
Today, there are reality shows based on people seeking recovery for their addictions. But usually, watching people get ridiculously drunk on TV has been par for the course. So when housemates on The Real World: Hawaii sent roommate Ruthie to rehab in 1999 after a string of crazy incidents (she had passed out in bars, performed table dances for her boss' wife, required the help of paramedics, etc.), it was a big deal in reality TV history. Probably even a first.

7. Tyra's meltdown
Tyra Banks is known for many things: Looking great in underwear, being a decent entrepreneur and acting goofy to the point of extreme embarrassment. So to see Tyra become completely enraged at an ungrateful, contrary contestant on season four of America's Next Top Model was unforgettable. We've seen less screeching after a Maury Povich paternity test gone bad.

6. Omarosa vs. Janice Dickinson
Well, what else besides war is going to happen when you put two mega-bitch celebrities with huge egos in the same house? Omarosa: "I feel sorry for her children." Janice: "She looks like Rick James' Siamese twin." They called each other crackheads throughout the program, and with their antics, you really didn't even need to see any of the other cast members.

5. Tanisha's wake-up call
After Tanisha's roommates kept her up all night on Bad Girls Club, she got up bright and early, went to the kitchen in her nightgown and got some big, thick baking pans. She then paraded around to all the girls' rooms – who were asleep with hangovers – and smashed the cooking tools together like symbals. "Get the f*** up!! This is what's going to go on all motherf******* day! " Immature? Yes. Worth rewinding? Definitely.

4. Jessica Simpson, Chicken of the Sea
From Newlyweds: Jessica Simpson (to then-hubby Nick Lachey): "Is this chicken, what I have, or is this fish? I know it's tuna, but it says chicken. (pause) By the sea. Is that stupid?" (Nick just stares at her, then shakes his head.)
Nick: "You act like you've never had tuna before."
Jessica: "Why is it called chicken by the sea, or in the sea?"
Nick: "Chicken of the Sea is the brand."
Jessica: "Oh .... I read it wrong."

3. Tattooing tales – a tie
Everyone knows that getting spontaneous tattoos after a few drinks is an excellent idea. So tied for third place, we have: Heather from Rock of Love, who tattooed Bret Michaels' name on the back of her neck during a date. (He dumped her soon after, natch.)
And also, three morons from Tool Academy, decided had the show's logo emblazoned on their bodies. The trio of fools ridiculed the one guy who didn't follow suit. His response: "I thought we were supposed to be progressing and not doing toolish things. I think a Tool Academy tattoo is definitely toolish."

2. Mini Me gets naked and pees
After drinking more than an average-sized adult probably should on The Surreal Life, an inebriated Verne Troyer climbs on to his scooter naked, and motors into the exercise room. He pees in the corner on the carpet, and you can totally hear the audio of the urine splashing up off the floor. At one point, in mid-stream, Troyer just stares blankly at the camera man. It's totally disturbing.

1. The legendary loogie
Many classy things went down on Flavor of Love, but perhaps the grossest occurance was the spitball heard round the world. During an elimination round, Pumkin hurled a big, thick lunger at which landed on the face of fellow contestant New York.

Five Questions

1. Is it warped to wish herpes or explosive diarrhea upon people who piss you off if you immediately feel guilty about having the thought?

2. When the HGTV people redo a kitchen in a half-hour show, why do I think I can do the same thing with the same results?

3. Do you think that '24' has the smallest wardrobe allowance of any other television show? Those people wear the same clothes in every episode. (A whole season is only a day long, after all.)

4. Who are bigger assholes: People who always wear sunglasses inside and at night? Or folks who feel the need to throw a peace sign (or some other hand signal) in every, single photograph?

5. Am I shallow for believing that my mood will improve 200 percent at 9:30 a.m. Saturday, when I am getting a much-needed haircut and color? I feel raggedy.

Rock of Love Bus is a Ride to Hell

I'll be honest: I am no stranger to terrible, trashy reality TV shows. I watched Flavor of Love and Rock of Love, both seasons of Bad Girls Club; Stylista, and both seasons of Charm School, which resurrected skanks from FOL and ROL and attempted to teach them manners and pride.

And that's just for starters.

I do love quality TV programs, too, but truth be told, I have no pride about what I watch. Because of that, I was shocked – no, make that floored – that a reality show was still able to unnerve me.

But thanks to Bret Michaels and his Rock of Love Bus (9 p.m. Sundays, VH1), I've considered squeezing gallons of hand sanitizer into my eyes and ears every week.

First of all, was it really necessary to film a third installation of Bret Michaels' search for love? I'm sure there are tons of nasty groupies at his concerts, so finding a skank to take home to mother surely can't be that difficult. It's not like he's looking for love with a doctor, or a lawyer, or some other upstanding professional that just doesn't have time to date around.

Anyway, here are some things that have happened in the first four installations of the show:

1. In the opening episode, one contestant inserted a shot of liquor, served in a test tube, someplace that it didn't belong. It's a good thing alcohol kills bacteria because another woman drank the shot from its, um, holder.

2. Another woman performed for Bret a self-written rap song, which she penned on the back of genital disease information sheets about herpes and gonorrhea.

3. When Bret planned mock weddings in episode two, he asked the "ladies" to write vows and bring him a gift. One woman vowed: "I promise to cook you the best, rockin' food, and to never, ever wear panties." Another woman's gift: A piece of jewelry that she had removed from a body piercing; she invited him to replace it at a later date.

4. At one point, a contestant got so drunk that she threw up – just moments before making out with Bret. His reaction: He said her kisses tasted like tequila, Doritos and "some other familiar taste.... It was the best Dorito I've ever tasted."

5. During a recent episode, Bret told the ladies to "dress to impress." On most shows, this would mean pulling out your finest nice evening gown, a little black dress, or perhaps a sun dress. On ROL Bus, it means "put on your sluttiest lingerie and then stop getting dressed." They all showed up in public wearing pleather maid's uniforms, child-sized underwear and the like.

6. The irony of the above situation, is that they were showing up to a challenge in which they'd have to act as roadies, breaking down all the band's equipment in a timed contest. When one lady took a really brutal fall backwards off the stage, she immediately gets back up and kept working even though she was in obvious pain. Her teammates are totally supportive and sympathetic: "Bret's a rock star, and if you want to date a rock star, you better get used to falling off the stage, bitch!"

And seriously, people, these are just a few highlights. All the stuff in between is just as hairball. Can you believe this is running on a regular cable station? I've seen less offensive stuff on pay-per-view.

Let's discuss.

The middle finger makes me smile.

Summary haiku:
If I wanted a
scratched car, bitch, I would have bought
a damn jalopy.



It happens all the time and I've even bitched about it before. But some days, when people leave carts strewn about the parking lot, it just gets on my last nerve.

After a long and extremely annoying day at work, I had to stop at Target and return a fan that I spent 35 minutes trying to unsuccesfully assemble. It was hot and I was dressed up in heels, so lugging this giant box sucked.

Twenty minutes later, I came out of Target (with a new, improved giant box) only to watch this stupid, lazy whore empty her shopping cart, then push the cart up between all the cars... and it ended up resting against my bumper.

Of course, the fucking cart corral was right behind her. Not ten cars away, or even two. She would have had to walk directly across the aisle to slip it in. In fact, unless she had really bad aim, she actually could have shoved it from her trunk and returned the cart to the proper area without even taking any extra steps.

Why do people do this?

I don't know... it was just the last straw of my day. I slammed down my fan box next to my car and I was like, "Are you kidding me right now? Are you REALLY going to leave that cart up against my car? The corral is right there!," pointing about four feet away from her gigantic SUV.

Holding her iced Starbucks in one hand, she glared at me like I'd just eaten a kitten's face off. I took her cart and moseyed it over to the corral real slow -- which, since it was behind her, prevented her from pulling out of her space for a few minutes.

I walked be her window and smiled real big. She flipped me off.

And I think it was the first time I ever felt pretty good after being given the bird.

Cats vs. Cards... who cares? For once, I do.

So, this morning I ran over to Kroger to get some butter in order to make my mom's delicious banana bread recipe.

It was about 10 a.m., and the store was packed with people wearing either UofL or UK garb, who appeared to be stocking up for food and tailgating supplies for today's big game.

But two teenage girls who were walking in front of me caught my eye. One had on a University of Louisville t-shirt with shorts, and a ponytail holder with a cardinal on it. No big deal.

However, her friend was hooched out to the nth degree in Univeristy of Kentucky-wear. She had on a blue and white striped tube top with a blue, micro-mini cheerleading skirt that would reveal her ass cheeks with one small breeze. Blue and white legwarmers (with UK written around the top of them), flip flops, and a UK backpack completed her ridiculous outfit, which also included a Girls Next Door white-blonde dye job.

It was a little much, but I was like, Whatever, they're teenagers! She may not know any better yet.

So I get up to the checkstand, and guess who gets behind me in line?

Seeing them for the first time from the front, I was horrified to discover that the UK offender was the other girl's mother! Her body was great, but she looked like she was about 40 years old in the face. She had on about 10 pounds of bright pink blush on top of everything else. Her husband was there, too, and he was also wearing some overkill crazed-fan outfit that involved blue hair and and a blue moustache. (But at least he wasn't half-naked.)

No wonder that teen girl was rooting for U of L! It's probably her only way to rebel against her embarrassing parental units.

I was pissed, of course. I never, ever leave the house without my (camera) phone... except on the one day I would have loved to use it.

Normally, I don't give a shit who wins these Kentucky rivalry games. I'm not from here, so I have no vested interest whatsoever. But today, I'll be rooting for Louisville -- all because that little girl deserves to shame her parents a little bit.

People who paint over wallpaper are fucking assholes.

So yesterday, we embarked on what should be a fairly simple task: We finally got around to repainting our bathroom on the main floor -- a task that should have taken roughly five hours, with primering and the actual painting. I got three walls done and felt pretty proud.

But when went to remove the toilet, it wouldn't come unscrewed from the floor. So we had to use a hack saw to screw through the bolts, which took ... a while. Then we discovered that some fucking assclown had painted over wallpaper -- a discovery we made because the wallpaper was all bubbled and peeling behind the toilet. So we started pulling it up.

Which is like pulling an errant thread on a sweater.

And after the paper is pulled up, all the glue underneath must be scraped off.

This is what our bathroom looks like now:







The Pepto Bismol pink is the old color. The sage green is the new color. And anything that isn't one of those two hues needs to be scraped, spackled and/or sanded before we primer and paint it. We spent most of today doing the part behind the toilet so we could reattach it. (We've had the water in our house turned off all day so that agua wouldn't leak from the detached hose.)

But that doesn't take the sting out of the fact that it's going to be a couple of weeks before this mess finished.

Kyle's expression said it best.




P.S. I've been getting drunk, so I'll be sad tomorrow when I have to go to work.

DVDs are going to save someone's life

... and they will probably prevent me from going to jail.

We go to the movies about once a year. Since I work days and Kyle usually works nights (and until recently, weekends), it just doesn't work into the schedule.

But last night -- Friday -- we decided to go see "Shutter." Our new house is about a five-minute walk to the theater, so perhaps this would be the start of a more frequent moviegoing era for us.

We got there early to snag some decent seats. When we opened the door to our screen, it was already as loud as a sports bar during a Final Four game. Scraggly-haired teenage boys were wrestling each other and hanging over the side of the seating area above our heads. Girls were screeching and pointing and giggling at the boys. They were all changing seats every 2 minutes, making and receving phone calls and text messages, and they all seemed to know each other.

We were the ONLY people in there over the age of 19. It was so annoying, we were considering leaving before the movie even started. One preview was for "Prom Night," and even though I couldn't hear it, I saw teenagers getting stalked and killed on screen and said to Kyle, "I wish that movie would happen in here right now."

Long story short, the theater employees came and gave some wooden speech about being quiet, turning off cell phones, etc. And they actually stationed a police officer in our theater. Still, phones were ringing during the movie, kids were yelling and screaming out jokes and commentary.

The cop was on top of things, but it's not like he could arrest them for being assholes. If that were the case, he'd have needed 15 paddy wagons to transport every last one of them.

Mowgli from "The Jungle Book" -- who you may remember was raised by wild animals -- was more put together than these kids.

For three years, I was an editor for 30 teenagers who wrote for our teen section at a newspaper in Washington. They were fabulous, smart, funny kids. I'm sure they all got wild from time to time... hell, I did at that age, too. But I can't imagine any of them being this out of control. And to be fair, there were a handful of well-behaved teens last night who seemed just as irritated as us. Somehow, though, 20 normal people can't compete with 300 ill-behaved monsters.

I've always said going to Wal-Mart was the best birth control. Because no matter what time of day (or night) it is, there are always families who let their 15 kids run wild all over the store instead of trying to make them act like civilized human beings. And that makes me want to pile on 47 condoms every time I have sex. But the movie theater on a Friday night came pretty close.

In fact, these little asshats from last night have all probably screamed through the aisle of Wal-Mart, knocking shit off the shelves and destroying everything in their paths like mini-tornados.

Which is why, from now on, I am perfectly content to wait for movies to hit DVD. We have a 47" HDTV, comfortable sofas and tickets aren't $9.25 each.

Financially irresponsible people are ruining my quiet time

So, I've been talking about the fact that we moved for weeks. We're in. But with a new house in a new neighborhood also came a new phone number. And it appears that whoever previously had this number never paid a bill in their lives.

During the past three weeks, we have gotten millions of phone calls from a variety of collection agencies looking for the previous owner of this phone number. We answer and say, "We don't know those people. We just got this number. We are a different family." Then that one stops calling.

But the next day, another agency calls. And another. Damn, how many bills did these motherfuckers have? And some of the calls don't even have a real, live person to talk to -- it's just a recording. So I can't even tell them we're not the right people. And they keep calling -- sometimes the same agency calls four times a day, clogging up all our voice mail.

It's driving me out of my fucking mind! If I meet these financial delinquents somehow by chance -- and believe me, I know their names WELL by now -- I'm going to tell them to eat a fat dick and quit signing up for credit cards if they can't even pay the electric bills.

I can't even enjoy a quiet glass of wine without being interrupted every 15 minutes.

If you read this far, thanks for listening. I'm a little tipsy right now (OK, maybe a lot tipsy) and these fuckheads are messing up my relaxing flow.

I have no words...

Summary haiku:
When I die, I want
all my pets to die with me.
Judge Judy outs me.



So, I was sitting here eating my dinner and reading a book, only halfway listening to the TV. But when I heard the madness going down on Judge Judy, I had to shift my focus.

This old man was suing an animal rescue owner because she wouldn't give him back a dog that he'd given up for adoption. Judge Judy put the kibash on that and here's why:

The man in question had been living with an old lady, his companion. When she died, her last wishes were to have her 17 Chihuahuas euthenized and cremated and buried with her in a pet cemetary. (Yes, she herself wanted to be buried in the pet cemetary as well.)
So, this guy did that with 9 of her dogs!

I don't know who's crazier, the dead dog lady or this moron who killed 9 pooches. Anyway, Judge Judy let him have it and I laughed.

John Deere, the babysitter

Summary haiku:
Sometimes, I wish I'd
used a rubber. So I use
lawnmower nanny.








Far be it from me to judge someone's parenting skills, especially when I have no children of my own. However, today I saw a scene that struck me as, well, pretty fucking ridiculous. And dangerous.

I was out walking the dogs, working on the stuff we learned at dog class this morning. We rounded the corner to a loud motor, a yapping canine and squeals of delight.

I look down the street and see this: A little girl, who couldn't have been older than 9 years old, driving a John Deere riding lawnmower at a speed that I didn't even know lawnmowers would reach. She was weaving in and out of her yard, going down the middle of the street, then pulling a quick u-turn and going back the other direction and over the humps of her yard.

Three smaller kids -- maybe ranging in age from 3 to 5 -- were in a red wagon which was tied with a rope to the back of the lawnmower and careening around behind it. The younger tots were laughing and giggling as the wagon bucked and swayed during its travels over cement surfaces and grassy declines.

As if this isn't disturbing enough a scene, there was a Jack Russell terrier (no leash, of course) rabidly circling the mower, barking its head off. The erratic child driver almost hit the pooch numerous times in the process. She was so close to running him over, I fully expected to see a Jack Russell pancake by the time we reached the end of the block.

And all I could think was WHERE IN THE HELL ARE YOUR PARENTS?

I beg you, think before you send

Summary haiku:
If your email
is longer than this, please
don't send me that shit.


So, I just had a lovely week. I was off work for a 7 days, my mom was in town and we ate, drank and shopped. It was relaxing and fantastic and great to see mi madre.

But how quickly the serenity wears off. I only worked Wednesday-Friday, but it felt like a week. Probably because it took me that long to filter through all the email. Not just the spam. But the email from people I know. Friends, family members, even.

PEOPLE WHO FORWARD TONS OF ASININE EMAILS ARE ASSHOLES. I mean, who really does that, right? A lot of motherfuckers, as it turns out. Forward or not, I am constantly surprised at the things people send out to multiple recipients. When I open my email, I should not have 23 messages from the same person, sent on the same day.

But can you really block these people from your email if you're related to them, or they're your friends?

Here is a list of things I'm interested in having forwarded to me: Pictures of cute shoes. Mullet haikus. Links to your online vaction photos (I like to live vicariously). And the periodic dirty, grimy joke. BUT -- and this is of the upmost importance -- these emails must be short. If they can't be read without scrolling down, please keep that shit to yourself.

I never want to see any of this again: Forwards about Jesus, abortion, the $25 that Bill Gates is supposedly giving away (it's a hoax, people!!!!). Ghetto prom pictures, terrorists, rednecks (except, again, the mullet haikus... send those), etc.; inspirational quotes and long-ass narrative stories that end up being about God. (I don't have anything against religion, but I'm just sayin': I don't need 35 messages a day about it.)

Also, please do not send messages that include any of the following: "It's girlfriends week! Thank you for being a wonderful girlfriend," "Please forward this to the person who sent it to you and ten other people," "I'm a walnut tree, what are you?"

Sure, pressing the delete button is easy. But I sure wish I didn't have to. If I'm really a wonderful girlfriend, send me a card in the mail. I'll put it on my mantle and cherish it.

"The hide their crack in the cupboard, behind the cans."

Last night, I worked a metro shift in the news department. I covered a couple of events, and then spent the rest of the time listening to the police scanner to keep track of Louisville's Sunday-night goings on.

At first, I was sad that I was missing the MTV awards, Rock of Love and the first day of the NFL season. But the scanner can help wile away the time, too. Here are a couple of highlights.




1. "A caller just reported that a guy was road-raging her on Dixie Highway." Road-rage as a verb. I like it.






2. "There's an intoxicated man on the walking trail wearing a red t-shirt and a weird white mask." Great. Michael Myers IS real.



3. "An old man with a ponytail is sitting in an Oldsmobile in the middle of the street. He's swearing at and flipping off anyone who asks him to move."




4. Somewhere on the south end, a mother and son were partaking in wholesome family activity of smoking crack together. "The son is wearing a pair of basketball shorts and no shirt, the mother is wearing jeans and a top with roses on it. The complainant said they store their crack in the kitchen cupboard, behind the canned foods."

Aside from their drug problems, which are not to be ridiculed, this report made me laugh for a couple of reasons. Now, maybe I've watched too many "Cops" episodes, but when I first heard the situation unfolding, I totally pictured the son being shirtless. Second, I love that whoever called the police were hanging out there long enough to note, in detail, their wardrobe and where they stashed the rocks.

Luckily, nothing major happened, which was not only good for me, but good for the public at large.

6 steps is a really long way to walk

SUMMARY HAIKU:
Bitch, the cart corral
is right there. Are you fucking
blind, or an idiot?


When it comes to everyday pleasures in life, few things are more fulfilling than having a kitchen full of groceries. Red grapes and flat iron steak and Honey Nut Cheerios. Yum. But getting the food from the store to the to the cupboard sucks.

Going to the grocery is one of my least favorite chores in the world, ranking about the same as mowing the lawn and cleaning the bathroom. For one, I know that I'm going to drop at least $100 every time I go to Kroger. Second, I never have time to shop during the week, so I always end up there on Saturday with every other human being on Earth. It takes forever.

Anyway, I was there today, loading my stuff into my car. The car that I love almost as much as my hubby and pets. The new car that I just bought in March. And this woman, who is parked across from me, puts her three little bags in her trunk. Then she wheels her cart in between the front of her car and my ride, leaving it to roll toward my dope-ass vehicle.

WE WERE PARKED RIGHT NEXT TO THE CART CORRAL! In fact, it probably took her more steps and more manuevering to walk it to the center than it would have to simply place it in the corral, which was about four steps from the back end of her car.

I know people leave carts whereever they want all the time, and they always strike me as lazy assholes. But I've never actually seen anyone who is parked so close to the receptacle go to so much trouble not to use it. Plus, she didn't even give a shit that the cart was rolling into my ride, even with me standing right there.

Is it really that hard to steer it to the proper area in order not to fuck up other people's vehicles? No matter where you are parked in a lot, they're never more than about 15 steps away.

In the end, the cart didn't scratch my dear Carlos, and I didn't say anything to her because I didn't want to seem like a crazy person. But I wanted to tell her she was, perhaps, the stupidest fucking person I'd ever seen, and that she was lucky I didn't break her legs. She just drove off, totally oblivious.

Luckily, my irritation was soon culled by a nice, fat bowl of mint chocolate chip ice cream. I was going to save it for after dinner, but that's the benefit of having a house full of food. I could have another one later, if I wanted. And I did.