TV recap of the week... we watch a lot of it whilst summering (simmering) in Florida

Mad Men.  Season 4 premier. Donald Draper...

I know I'd be game for a for a DD salt water douche, and/ or high colonic.  Don is just TCB.  Meanwhile, Betty's new puny husband is...no match for the highly complex and impulsive Betty. 

Betty you  married down.  Baby cakes you've been outsmarted and outgunned by the boy from "Tobacco Road."    http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=O4Sfh8LFMaw

True Blood:  Eric Northman.  Can not get enough phace time if you axe me.  I'd become his vampire bride, concubine, mistress, executive assistant, all of the above in a heart beat.  Why that loser, waitress, white trash Sookie Stackhouse is so stuck on the pancake makeup wearing midget Bill (as she calls him "Bee-ill") is beyond comprehension.  

Eric Northman's constant smirk and witty repartee steal this show away from all the mere mortals, and non-Nordic viking god vampires who aren't fit to lace his mucklucks.      

Pantheon of Sloth

Bloomberg released it's 20 "laziest," (not to be confused with fattest) states.
http://images.businessweek.com/ss/10/07/0722_laziest_states/2.htm

Dear Readers I am proud to report that both Michigan and Florida have made this esteemed listing.

Here for your review is Babs' top ten "douchiest" states--based on the merest, scantest, anecdotal, and prejudicial of opinions:

1. Texas- Bush, need I say more?
2. Alaska- Only in AK could Palin, and her brood of chillbillies spawn and prosper.  AK has not produced one good rock band.  In addition AK is the only state that repeatedly perpetrates premeditated homicide against inhabitants and visitors alike, see Alexander Supertramp and Grizzly Man.  New state motto s/b... "Come to Alaska and be killed for FREE."
3. Ohio- Michigan without one fucking lake. I stand corrected-- to wit, the spontaneously combustible latrine eery Erie, where even a mortal sinner like Babs can walk on water. 
4. Indiana - Nascar need I say more?
5. Iowa- How boring?  Filled with "aww shucks" white folk, who drop their g's.
6. Kansas - Where "serious" white folk live.  Check your sense of humor at the border. 
7. New Hampshire- Prudes and dyspeptics-- please apply. 
8. Maine- More outhouses and Walmarts per capita.
9. Utah - Mormons. Next to scientology and the Holy Roman church, one of the wierdest religions, EVER. 
10. Minnesota - Cold as a witches tit and chock full o' Lutherans.

Bliss...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=n7ZkQC0riwc

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PTTsyk-pyd8

Turn this up very, very loud!!!  That means you Baby B...

The un-datable un-doables of match dot com

Crawled outta the rack at the crack of noon to check my email to see what jetsom and flotsom match.com harvested for me overnight.  Previously I have blogged about the random mimes, cripples, clowns, gynecomastics, fat fucks, pyrotechnics, and Glenn Becks that have been "scientifically" matched with me as potential "soul mates."

For the record, it has been proven that only potential cell mates, if not outright douchebags, qualifty as soul mates for Babs.  Bad, bad, wicked, self destructive. cheating, lying, unemployed, married bad boys are the ones Babs will fall for, date, marry, remarry, donate a kidney or bone marrow to, etc...you know who you are fellas-- love and kisses from Babs.  Nice guys DO finish last with this bitch.   

This morning was a particularly poignant if not pungent batch of nice guys who are good at "creating romance" delivered to the inbox of the bitch.  Fellas, I ain't gonna "nudge" you if you are a "restaurant worker," in a wheel chair, holding up a fish, sporting stone washed jeans, a Canadian tuxedo, a popped collar, a graphic tee, a moose knuckle, a wife beater, and/or a comb over, or live in a town of less than 6,000 inhabitants in Alaska, Wyoming, Montana, or Scotland.  Also previous acrimoniously divorced spouses are not eligible. 

...Thus rendering Babs a total loser in the numbers game of online dating.   

Always contriving "Plan B"... why not create an online dating service for opposites?  This service will search for, and deliver to your inbox, each morning a montage of your polar opposites. If I wasn't so lazy I'd get with an IT guru and launch and monetize that schemata... easy readers, yee who have some gumption, I give you permission to run with this scathingly brilliant idea. 

With a tropical depression looming, Babs shall call it a day and crawl back in the rack until cocktail hour.

Who's Classy Now?

Final wrap on the bitch's road trip 2010. Below find Florida's new "vanity plate,” featuring America’s favorite Christian star-- "Dead Jesus" hanging off a license plate with an orange behind his head. http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2009/04/28/jesus-license-plate-in-fl_n_192565.html. 

Aw shucks, my buttons were just bursting with Florida pride (aka self-loathing), when I'd spot a filthy flesh colored PT Cruiser sporting this bad boy plate.

Actually, the button's were bursting due to my newly augmented rack.  As a patriotic American, I spent my tax refund and random stimulus money on having the girls lifted and separated (I digress--thank you and Happy Birthday Mr. President).

Fired up HP notebook at next beer and semen soaked Ramada Inn, and discovered  Florida has a "design your own vanity plate" option.  Below please find some creative samples:

For this one I'd bend and snap.

You Don't Know Jack

The only people for me are

the mad ones, the ones who are

mad to live, mad to talk,

mad to be saved, desirous of everything

at the same time,

the ones who never yawn

or say a commonplace thing,

but burn, burn, burn like fabulous

yellow roman candles exploding.

--Jack Kerouac

Notes from the Road

Sojourning at the La Quinta in Gainesville.  People-- one step up from rustic camping.

Reminds me of the time Fang and I evacuated a hurricane back in ought-4 to the Plaza in New York.  To my horror there was a fresh booger on the shower curtain.  I had a wee hissy fit and insisted to Fang we must needs relocate rooms.  Fang by this time had settled in and was puffing away on his second bone, and not of a mind to pack up and re-tip a bell man.  He garbed up in the hazmat suit he always travelled with and made short shrift of the booger.  My hero.

Well, 6 years later here I am at said La Qunita, and there is more than a booger on the shower curtain.  There is a whole wad of conclusive DNA evidence on this shower curtain-- if you catch my drift.  But I'm not complaining, cuz I'm on my own sked, and don't have to put up with Fang chain smoking full fat Newports. 

People, the moral of this story is-- you can't be gagging and nagging at every booger and pube you encounter when on the road, and on the road of life for that matter.  Adventure requires gumption, and ofttimes a  strong stomach.  So get off that Twitter, Facebook, and World Wide Interweb and see the USA in your Chevrolet!!! Tout suite!!

Deep in Dixie...

Notes from the road. Vacation on a shoestring.

Helped Charlie sort out some policy matters in Talllahassee, after which headed due north up I-75 to arrive in the deep south.  Traversed through scary rural, Bible beltage sector north of FL border, where WCSA was broadcasting loud and proud decrying Sherman's march to the sea as if it happened 10 years ago. 

Confederate flags and Baptist churches outnumbered shotgun shacks, and Tara double wides 10 to 1.  Was feeling a bit queasy as I passed ginormous gated Baptist Convention Center..."ain't nuttin goin on there 'cept speaking in tongues."  Babs' own personal Shutter Island, Auschwitz, 7th layer of hell all rolled into one Antebellum modular. 

Proceeding on "Yankee" tour-- going South heading north, stopped at Jeff Davis capture site.  Was the sole visitor on a gorgeous July Saturday.  Go figure? 

Tomorrow back on the road.  Visit to Andersonville, just to get my hackles totally up, and rhetorically prepped for happy hours with my friend Anna, the Tallahassee Lassie. Then onto the placid pre "off the grid" penultimate off the grid home of Marjorie Kinan Rawlings at Cross Creek.

Meanwhile spending quality time with the progeny... and still paying off that credit card debt from London.

Message in a bottle...from another satisfied reader

"Your blog last night really...

Cracker (see http://www.urbandictionary.com/ definition #12)

1. A type of flat wafer-like food item made from wheat, or grain.

2. A native Floridian, one who was born in Florida, also called a “Florida Cracker.”

3. A person of Caucasian descent.

4. A person who boasts.

Definition of "Ruin Porn"

http://detnews.com/article/20100701/OPINION01/7010331/Detroit-s-ruins-bring-visitors--but-rankle-critics-within-the-city

Now showing at the Akron Museum of Art. Has the knickers of Detroiters all in a twist.  I think those people in Ohio are "mean." http://www.akronartmuseum.org/

Pure Michigan?

Pure Bullshit dot org.  People, don't believe it.  Watch this and know the real "Pure Michigan."

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sLXk9jk_YDo&feature=related

Yea, I feel sorry for any one who "lives" there, but really, why is this propaganda campaign being hoisted on the American public?  What's next "Pure Chernobyl?"

I can't turn on my BET without a corny "Pure Michigan" ad.  To which I respond "really?"  Where exactly in Canada are they filming these bogus shots?  Is there no truth in advertising?

Caveat emptor my friends...more Pure Michigan http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Lq82M6i3lM4 to send you spiraling into total despair.

Some icing on the cake of incredulity http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dulwjktZ1BI&feature=fvw

Get this before the FDA takes it off the market!!!

http://www.magicpowercoffeepro.com/

Safety Notices
FDA states Magic Power Coffee "dietary supplement"' contains Viagra-like chemical

June 21, 2010

ST LOUIS - On June 19, 2010, the US Food and Drug Administration (FDA) issued a notice warning consumers to avoid using a product known as Magic Power Coffee. The product is an instant coffee and is marketed as a dietary supplement for the promotion of sexual enhancement.

An FDA analysis of Magic Power Coffee revealed the presence of hydroxythiohomosildenafil, a chemical similar to sildenafil and the active ingredient in Viagra. The agency states that this component of the product is considered an undeclared drug ingredient. The label describes the product as an "all natural dietary supplement."

When taken by persons who also take nitrate medications, hydroxythiohomosildenafil, like sildenafil, may lead to dangerous drops in blood pressure. Sexual enhancement products that claim to work as well as prescription products are likely to expose consumers to unpredictable risks and the potential for injury or even death, according to the FDA.

Magic Power Coffee is distributed on Internet sites and online auctions by multiple independent distributors participating in an online multilevel marketing scheme. It is sold in a 2-serving box and a 12-serving carton containing six 2-serving boxes.

The FDA is advising consumers who have experienced any negative adverse effects from sexual enhancement products to consult a health care professional and to safely discard the product. Adverse events may be reported to the FDA's MedWatch program.

Booty for Bug Spray?

I receive a text from little sis Mame stating she is camping.  WTF?  This would be like Lady GaGa camping.  It gets weirder...  

Her husband, Kip forgot the bug spray and they are 7 miles from their car.  She is too exhausted to make it back to the car. Mosquitoes, the size of small Volkswagens, are swarming about her face and head, ready to drive her insane, or carry her off to their mosquito kingdom.

I tell her to calm down, channel her inner Druid, start drinking heavily, check her makeup, and go a begging. If you gotta give a random BJ for some bug spray, so be it.  Kip's on his own.

Nobody wanted Mame's action dead or alive, so it was a good thing she had a stash of Kip's homemade beef jerky to use as wampum.

   
Mame managed to self soothe herself with liquor, and then proceeded to make Kip's life a living hell.  You can bet Kip got no play in the teepee that night. 

Mame awoke with a full bladder at 2:00 a.m. and was afraid to use the outhouse or leave the tent in case a tick drilled into her medulla oblangata or butt hole.

The pee and malice just stewed inside of her until the light of dawn enabled her to huff out of mother nature's hell hole.  I told her to drive away and leave Kip on his own (AMF YOYO*), but Mame knows better than to take marital advice from Babs.

Mame, I will give you this piece of advice...stick to what you excel at bitch-- room service at a five star.

*adios mutha f****-- you're on your own.

Happy Birthday America, Part II

I'd like to address an item from yesterday's blog.

1.  To my European readers, take no offense by my reference to European hell holes.  First off, every place that my ancestors could afford to live in the old country WAS a bona fide, dirt bag, ghetto, hardscrabble farm-- most likely all of the above, hell hole.  The folks that got out-- ipso facto, moved up in the world, when they were let a one room cold water flat in a random cold gray American hell hole ala Pittsburgh, Cleveland, and/or Detroit.

2.  Lots of places in Europe are very, very cool.  Places that Babs has visited that she adored: St. Tropez, Paris, Portugal, Spain, Holland, Scandinavia, & St. Petersburg, Russia (didn't like Rome, maybe it's because they kicked me out of the Vatican).  Did I mention Amsterdam? http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kQAxxaGDJ6s&feature=related

3.  However, there is one island in particular that I really don't like.  I adore their literature, and their TV shows, and their dictionary.  I dig their royal family http://madhattery.royalroundup.com/, and next to Americans-- this race can rock.  But people, to be frank, if I never tread the shores of Albion again it will be too soon. 

4. There are reasons too numerous, but I'd like to share with you the story of a traumatic Fourth of July when Babs was held hostage in the town of Doorknob, Scotland in the UK (it's right next to the Arctic Circle).  There are no sparklers, or fireworks, or barbecues, or corn on the cob, or baseball, or sun.  It's just gray, cold rain, and people speaking this incomprehensible language, eating pigeon and fat drippings-- and to add insult to injury, at that latitude daylight lingers for 22 fricking hours. 

It's as if the biggest party in the world is happening in the mansion of fun in America, and you haven't been invited cuz you're not cool enough, and you're at the window looking in watching all the hipsters having fun at this party. 

My jailer, fellow "American" Fang, was such a Scottish poseur & wannabe that he wouldn't even indulge Babs a little.  Looming large were 30 more days hard time in the hole, before I could get back to the party-- the big box, the sun, the music, that trailer park in the sky, i.e. America. 

The outlook was bleak.  I weighed my options for escape-- taxi, plane, train, bus, auto, goat cart, row a boat across the Atlantic? Gnaw off my arm?  All non starters.

My only viable option was to draw on my vast reservoir of American cockeyed optimism. That, combined with making Fang's life a living hell... and a bottle of single malt got me through.

I dedicate the following video, from a fabulous woman, who just happens to be named Babs (aren't her nails, and highlights like butter?), to all you cockeyed optimists out there...
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wVzl01bBl74

Happy Birthday America!!!

Birthplace of Rock and Roll, and Babs.  Hey thanks, to all of my antecedants who left the cold gray European hell holes they were living in  (or kicked out of) to imigrate to America.

A trip down memory lane...here's a picture of (l-r) Mame, Viv, and Babs circa 1966 in their homemade frocks enroute to 4th of July block party.

A mere 10 years later.  1976.  Babs and the gang on a 4 day Bicentennial Bachannal.  Drinking beer for breakfast in Traverse City, MI:

     We arrived, 10 of us, in above smoke filled AMC Pacer. 

Enjoy Detroit trailer trash, ghetto fabulous homeboy Kid Rock paying homage to double wide, monster truck, American bad asses. 

http://uk.video.yahoo.com/watch/4592132/12291759