MUSINGS III

I’m not morbid anymore. Just obese. Soon I’ll be just fat. And then someday, God willing, I’ll be out of shape. Oh, to be out of shape! What a dream…

Super gay gossip-tainment guys are always saying how hot Nicole Kidman is. That’s kinda like a vegetarian telling you where to get a good steak, isn’t it?

“I’ve been around for you- been up and down for you,

But I just can’t get any relief

I’ve swallowed my pride for you- lived and lied for you,

But you still make me feel like a thief.”

-William Shakespeare (or maybe REO Speedwagon- I can’t remember which)

Everyone looks so damn good in their facebook pictures, then you see them in person and you are disappointed. That’s why I pick the worst photo I can find for my profile, then people are pleasantly surprised when they meet me.

Never trust a skinny cook or a fat junkie.

Figure skating is gayer than Clay Aiken having sex with RuPaul while watching the Village people play badminton on Liberace’s piano with Elton John playing it. Not that there’s anything wrong with that.

Rooting for the Vikings is a lot like watching America’s Favorite Home Videos. It always ends with a swift kick to the nuts.

Anyone who says that Crispy Crème doughnuts are “better than sex” are clearly not fucking the right people.

Never stop believing that the inevitable doesn’t have to become reality.

I always hear guys bragging about their six-pack abs. Hell, I’ve got a whole keg, and it’s always ladies night at Club Ernest!

If you ever need to induce vomiting, just watch a few minutes of Millionaire Matchmaker. It is the most shallow, phony, pathetic, disgusting, hypocritical, materialistic, annoying, horrible plastic surgery mistake filled train wreck of a TV show that you will ever see. And I should know. I’ve seen every episode.

Hearing somebody else talk about a dream they had is like listening to them talk about masturbating. I’m sure it was vivid and exciting for them, but I really don’t want to hear about it.

Anything that is “not half bad” is half not good.

A MODEST PROPOSAL 2.0

America is at a crossroads. We must take action immediately, or we will lose our way of life. Elections have gotten out of control. Do you realize that some of the people who are voting are women, blacks, and poor people? Some people who vote didn’t even go to college, let alone an Ivy League school! How have we let this happen? First those pinko commies back in the 19th century made us give up our slave labor. OK, that was a minor setback, but then they started regulating businesses to prevent huge monopolies. How un-American is that?!? Then in the 20th century, the head socialist of them all, that communist manifesto thumping, Lenin loving, freak, FDR crammed a bunch of wacky legislation down America’s throat to protect “quality of life,” and “create jobs,” and provide a “system of security for old age.” What a crock. Why can’t they live off of their trust funds and corporate pensions like normal people? How despicable to push irresponsible bills through in a time of national fear and economic crisis. No wait, actually that’s a pretty good technique. I think we could use that to our advantage at some point..….
Let me get back on message, though. I propose that we offer every American who earns under $100,000 a year a $150 rebate to NOT vote. I’m sure they could use the money to buy breaded dough products or crunk cocaine or whatever it is that they do. My plan would actually save money by reducing the need for expensive negative campaign ads and alleviate the riff-raff congestion on Election Day.
America faces an even bigger challenge than the democratization of elections. Let us not ignore the giant elephant in the room (at least it’s better than a giant donkey in the room, am I right?). Health care has become an unavoidable inconvenience. Sure, we have manipulated, blackmailed, and railroaded the current bill into such a mangled mess that it will actually benefit our friends in the insurance business and decrease care, but I say we can do even better than that. Hear me out. Our friends at Halliburton’s division of Synthetic and Carbon Use Management (SCUM) have come up with some incredibly innovative breakthroughs in organic fuel and building material production. The wiz’s in their labs have perfected a process which can convert human blood into high octane jet and yacht fuel. They can also fabricate a material out of human bones that is strong enough to be suitable for mansion walls.
Here’s how we can put this technology to work.
Since insurance premiums are skyrocketing and general health is declining, we will have numerous uninsured people checking into hospitals. They would be evaluated by a fair and balanced committee, which would determine their best use. It seems like bad PR to call them “death panels,” so I propose we name them after a great American thinker and call them Palin Boards. Those deemed a bad financial risk, or simply not worth the effort, would be semi-humanely euthanized and their blood, bones, and organs would be harvested (I think we all know a few hard drinking CEO’s who could use a new liver, am I right?). These donors would be labeled Patriots, and would actually be contributing something to high society for the first time in their pathetic lives. It is a win win situation. We would reduce dependence on those horrid, evil, foreign countries for our essential luxury vehicle fuel, and also gain valuable building materials, since we may not be able to deforest the National Parks (thank you dirty hippie tree huggers).
I have great hope for this plan. It should be a breeze to get through congress (since there’s nothing cheaper to buy than a congressman, am I right?) Christ, my bank bought Sen. Dodd with a no interest loan and a job promise after he leaves congress! I’m always amazed at how cheaply they’ll sell their souls. Not that I’m complaining, mind you! Once we implement this modest proposal, we will be on the road to lower population, cheap resources, and less peasant resistance. We can make this country great again. Thank you for your time. God bless money, and may God bless (1% of) America!

KE$HA'S #1 FAN

[My editor has approached me and said that THROWIN' ROCKS is trending down on message boards, whatever the hell that means. To reach a younger demographic (13-20 year olds are the new 18-25 year olds) we have enlisted my 15 year old niece Melissa, who agreed to write a guest column called WFMLUSBBIMAWHFDILOLZ (Writing For My Lame Uncle’s Stupid Blog But I Might As Well Have Fun Doing It LOLZ). Enjoy?]


WFMLUSBBIMAWHFDILOLZ
By Melissa

O……M…….G, don’t you just loooove Ke$ha?!!?! Shez so awesome!! Im totally n2 Tik Tok. I listen to it like 500 timez a day. She iz sooo rad and unique and shez just like “I iz who I iz, so just deal!” And I think thatz so freakin’ awesome. Lotz of ppl don’t get her cuz shez just soooo real, I mean, shez just like whatev- deal with it! I luuuv how she just does her own thing and shez so free and likes to just party all the time.
First of all, her name iz sooo kick ass! It haz a dollar sign in it yall! A dollar sign! How cool iz that? Its like she haz bling right in her name yo, like right off the bat you know shez a baller! And she rights her own tats on her arm with a sharpie! I mean, I no lotz of ppl who right on thereselves, but her fake tats all have like a total meaning, and they all rep something important to her like money$ or BFFs or grain alcohol. She iz da bomb!
Lotz of ppl talk smack about Ke$ha cuz they say shez all slutty or whatever, but shez just bean who she iz! Shez like really deep and shit, cuz I herd an interview and she wuz just like “I never said I wuz like a roll model to nobody, Im just bean real, yo.” How rawkin iz that? Plus she rights her own lyrics and they r super fresh like “Don’t be a bitch and bore me with that chit chat, just turn around and sho me where your dicks at.” That iz sooo epic!
My older brother Chet iz just like “Ke$ha is a skank, why doesn’t she go drink another bottle of vodka and get in a fight and sleep with a homeless guy that durty hoar” and Im just like screw u weirdo, y dont u just go listen to another Radiohead song u freek. I don’t see them winning any teen choice awards so what up with that? They r so depressing anyway! I like ppl like Ke$ha who just like to hav a good time. Shez so happy and fun all the time! She proves that I dont need no stoopid skool to be rich and party and b famous! If that gay ass prinsipal Mr. Bleckstone (more like Mr. Blecch-dome cuz hez bald) sez 1 more werd 2 me Im gonna be like “Eat it!”
It makes me soooo mad when all them haters comment on u2b and are like Ke$ha iz so dum and why do ppl like her and take a bath and stuf like that. Get a life! She can do whatever she wants, shez just bean herownself. All u haters can go drink hatorade and I hope u choke on it u big meaneez! There all just jelous cuz they cant have the fame and selebrity that Ke$ha haz! Shez so talented and shez gonna have a long career and Im never gonna get sik of her! Im gonna buy every album of herz 4 ever, I promise!
In conclusion, I love Ke$ha, Im like her #1 fan and I will luv her soooo much always. Itz not like Im going 2 b sik of her next month and never want to here her ever again!!!!! Im gonna change my name to Meli$$a, and brush my teeth with a bttl of Jack and b famous! Leev Ke$ha alone, if u don’t like her music then dont listen, duh!! When I grow up I want to b just like her (except without the herpez).

OSCAR NIGHT '10

I could write a run of the mill Oscar recap to match the run of the mill show. I could talk about how Steve Martin is one of the greatest comic geniuses of all time, or bitch about the idiotic opening number with Doogie Howser, M.D. I could praise the cool formats for introducing the best movie, actor, and actress categories, or get real gossipy (what 6 year-old girl picked out Sandra Bullock’s lipstick, how unflattering was James Cameron’s wife’s dress, and what was up with Alec Baldwin’s arm shaking???). I could express shock that they finally did a cool, entertaining dance number (for the best score category), or bemoan how incredibly predictable this year’s winners were (I know there were a lot of perfect pool scores out there). I could bitch about how they opened with Swayze for the In Memoriam segment and messed up the video feed so that he didn’t get his proper round of applause, but hearing James Taylor doing a Beatles song made up for everything. I could point out the dichotomy of honoring a brave movie like The Cove, but then cutting away and turning off the mike when their acceptance speech started getting political. I could gripe about all the flash in the pan crappy young actors and actresses who haven’t earned their stripes that they had presenting awards just to boost ratings, offset by the touching tribute to the great John Hughes. I could go on about how cool it is that Kathryn Bigelow is the first woman to win best director, or how that washed-up cow Barbra Streisand did her best to ruin that great milestone by making it about her (just read the name and let the moment stand on it’s own you classless, self righteous, gas bag of a ham). I could do all that, but I'm not going to. Maybe I’m getting soft in my old age, but all I want to talk about is how motivating the Oscars can be.
For those of us who worship movies, Oscar night is a weird mix of Prom and the Super Bowl. It represents the pinnacle of what movies aspire to be, while putting everything that is wrong with superficial Hollywood on display. Movies, or films as my pretentious acquaintances would correct me, are the highest art form. They combine writing, theater, music, and imagery to create the most visceral of all experiences. In art, you don’t declare a winner, you just appreciate and learn. That being said, it sure is cool when a guy like Jeff Bridges wins and everything seems right in the universe. A talented, good guy gets rewarded. And that’s when the Oscars make sense. Sharing, as an audience, the realization of an impossible dream for the deserving person on stage. The joy and emotional release of vindication. We’ve all imagined what it would feel like to stand there with that heavy little statue in our hands. Who we would thank, what we would say.
One of my favorite Oscar memories is sitting in my friend Jeff’s living room watching the Coen Brothers win. I have been such a huge fan of theirs from the beginning of their career, that I felt very personally invested. They finally got the recognition they deserved, and in a weird way, all their fans got validation for their devotion. Whether they won an Oscar or not though doesn’t change a frame of their brilliant movies or my enjoyment of them. Many great movies don’t even get distributed or nominated, let alone win. And that’s life. It’s so rare to get an award or a pat on the back for doing the right thing or staying true to your dreams. Your own heart has to be the Kodak theater.
My Oscar recap last year was the first blog post I ever wrote, and in the past year I’ve learned a lot. I guess I’m having a mid life crisis, but I can’t afford to buy a Harley or a Corvette, so I’ve had to look inward to create something exciting and new. Oscar night always leaves me inspired, motivated, and upbeat, ready to get busy making dreams come true, whatever they might be. Shit, after The Dude won an Oscar, I was in such a good mood that I didn’t even skip Hotel California when it came on Pandora while I was writing this. And I hate the fucking Eagles, man.

SIMPSONS ANONYMOUS

The following is an actual transcript of a Simpson’s Anonymous meeting from an undisclosed location somewhere in America. The group’s responses are in parentheses ….

“Hello, my name is Ernest and I’m a Simpsonaholic.” (‘Hi Ernest’)
“I never thought I would end up here. At it’s height, my addiction cost me jobs, friends, and money. The only thing I didn’t lose was my girlfriend, and that’s because she was watching too. We enabled each other.” (Knowing murmurs) “We would exchange Simpsons paraphernalia at Christmas and birthdays, recite entire scenes together, and watch Simpsons marathons for days without leaving the house……oh God, we were hooked. I guess I should back up and start at the beginning. It all began innocently enough back in the late 80’s. I’d watch the Simpsons once a week with my friends, real social-like, you know? The animation was fairly crude back then, and the voices were unrefined, but the laughs were non-stop. Pretty soon though, my whole week revolved around Simpsons night. Then came syndication in the mid 90’s. I was upta 2 or 3 episodes a day……and I was watching alone.” (Understanding sniffles) “The animation by then had become much stronger, and the voices more potent. By ’99 I was gone. When the first notes of the theme came on it was……it was like a wave of joy flowing through my veins. The opening clouds parting were like the very gates of heaven opening!” (Scattered ‘Can I get a witness’) “I’d started calling in sick when episodes like ‘Mr. Plow’ or ‘Bart sells his Soul’ were going to be on. The Simpsons was all I talked about, constantly driving my friends crazy with best line/episode debates, and always correcting their quotes. Every action every day was driven by when I could see another episode. Believe me, cable didn’t help either. Between local and national stations, there was an almost constant supply of The Simpsons. It was always right there, waiting for me, calling me! It was at this time that I met my girlfriend. We bonded immediately over our love of the four-fingered smack as we called it. There were good times at first, but as many of you know, it can only go in one direction. We comforted each other through the rough times, like cable outages and VCR jams, and we laughed through the good times, like Sideshow Bob’s return and Homer finding his soul mate. Through the ups and the downs, we always had each other, but we knew something had to give. Our eyesight was failing from too much TV, we were broke, and I was getting ‘Yellow Skin Fever’ pretty bad” (Muffled sobs) “That’s when it happened. I don’t know if God intervened on our behalf or what, but last Sunday night at 8 o’clock we were crouched in front of the TV in our pre fix ritual when the most peculiar thing occurred; the show started and we didn’t laugh. It was just ‘Homer is dumb, Lisa is smart, Marge worries, Bart causes worry.’ Where was the funny? The soaring highs were gone, the clever innuendo and social commentary was missing. Horror of horrors, it was just another TV show!” (Relieved gasps) “I looked at my girlfriend and we just hugged and cried. Our long bittersweet nightmare was over. The producers and writers had finally run out of product. From the animation fields of Korea to the red hills of Springfield, the creative poppy fields were barren and we were free at last, thank God almighty, we were free at last!!!” (Thunderous applause) “We aren’t out of the woods yet though. We still sneak an occasional re-run, but only classics, and in moderation of course…” (Forgiving chuckles)