My Word Souffle Fell Flat

Exhibit 1: Colored pencil illustration for my entry in the "Lust" in Katydid's Seven Deadly Sins competition.  The post, thought by me to be the best one I'd done in the contest didn't even make it to the finals.  The drawing scored yawns from readers.
Exhibit 1: Colored pencil illustration for my entry in the “Lust” chapter in K8edid’s Seven Deadly Sins competition. The post, thought by me to be the best one I’d done in the contest, didn’t even make it to the finals. The drawing scored yawns from readers.  If you decide to click the links at the end, you may want to go back to the gluttony one first and read them in order.

I thought my last post was pretty good.  It had lots of great ingredients including a bubble-headed newscaster, Lady Gaga, Academy Awards and racial slurs.  In my book, that’s a can’t-lose recipe.  I tossed that crap in my handy WordPress Lazy Blogger Crock Pot®, set the timer and toddled off to work.  Eight hours later, I’d open the front door and be greeted by the savory aroma of delicious comments and a bountiful platter of steaming “likes”.  I knew better than to hope for any Freshly Pressed action – this post was discomfort food, not French-Asian fusion cuisine featuring fair-trade organic lemongrass and sustainable free-range snails [Food analogies inserted to whet the readers’ appetites and make blog writing seem as effortless for me as slow cooking.  Analogy of Freshly Pressed as some sort of trendy, politically-correct restaurant is due to my being a bitter man who can’t get a reservation]

In some people's eyes, these are nothing but miniature cabbages, but in the hands of a master chef, they can be steamed over simmering rice wine, garnished with a chiffonade of Thai basil and served in groups of 3 for $17.
In some people’s eyes, these are nothing but miniature cabbages, but in the hands of a master chef, they can be steamed over herbed rice wine, garnished with a chiffonade of Thai basil and served in groups of 3 for $17.

I followed the instructions to the letter, adding a little extra salt and a pinch of cayenne, then left for my day of toiling making the world a better place for special-needs youngsters [Shameless self-promotion inserted to make people feel crappy for not reading my last post]

Shameless self promotional shot of me helping my post-stroke, ass-paralyzed dog.  Disclaimer: I am not a licensed dog physical therapist and may have only done this to keep the pooch frm crapping in the house.  Good news, she's recovered the use of her ass, and is back to being ignored by me.
Shameless self-promotional shot of me helping my post-stroke, ass-paralyzed dog. Disclaimer: I am not a licensed dog physical therapist and may have only done this to keep the pooch from crapping in the house. Good news, she’s recovered the use of her ass end, and is back to annoying the daylights out of me.

I trudged through the door that night and rushed to turn on the laptop.  I was greeted with a mere four likes and a handful of comments from a few of my more ardent supporters.  Four likes?!  A fifth like showed up later, but it was clearly a “sympathy like” at best.  I responded to each and every comment, and waited patiently for the momentum to pick back up.  I jiggled the cord to make sure it was plugged in and touched the side to see if it had warmed up [Appliance malfunction analogy inserted to hint at my disappointment and grumbling stomach.  Grumbling stomach analogy inserted into aside to imply that I’ll starve without positive reinforcement.  Rushing to my laptop involved ignoring the greetings of both my long-suffering wife and gimpy-but-faithful dog]

It’s been too long now, there may be more likes trickling in and possibly a comment or two, but by this point, the post is buried and the expiration date on the topics has come and gone.  My post before that one was over at The Nudge Wink Report.  It had just a few words and was mostly comprised of cut-n-paste images of Kim Kardashian and her ample tushy being put in a bunch of silly places.  It was far from my best work and I was fully prepared to be accused of having “smart-phoned it in”.  Despite my doubts about the quality, the post got a butt-load of likes and a bumper crop of comments!  Mrs. Kanye West’s ass pasted onto my dog’s nose is apparently blog gold. [Kim and Kanye reference inserted to allow me to put them in my tags for this post with a clear conscience – thus increasing my hits exponentially.  Choice of using the words “butt load” and “bumper crop” in reference to ass-themed post responses was entirely intentional]

Kim's keister perched on a snifter of imperial stout?  Is this what it takes to get blog hits?
Kim’s keister perched on a snifter of imperial stout? Is this what it takes to get blog hits?

My first instinct, as a born pleaser, was to try to figure out what I’d done wrong.  Surely there were errors in my less successful post and some sort of mysterious appeal to the more popular one.  This is far from the first time I’d wondered what I’d done to displease the masses. [Self-reflection reference inserted to paint the author as being a little deeper than someone with an apparent fascination with Kim’s sizeable fanny might otherwise appear]

The bigger question eventually rises to the surface and sits there waiting to be acknowledged, like a turd in the punch bowl which can’t be ignored any longer.  Here it is; Who exactly am I writing for? [Rhetorical question inserted in hopes of eliciting cries of “Me, Dave! You’re writing for me – I simply can’t get enough of your snarky brilliance!”.  Turd in the punch bowl analogy inserted because, you know…poop humor]

I’ll be the first to admit that most of my blog posts are not exactly the stuff of literary artistry.  I have written a handful of serious posts and some marginally humorous fiction in the past, but my blog identity is largely that of a smart-ass commenting on the news and/or the idiocy of the world.  I enjoy making people laugh or even just smile.  I like the thought of being the sarcastic voice of people who are annoyed or amused by the goofiness of our world. [As if to imply that most folk simply can’t read news stories and shake their heads in amazement without checking for my two cents first.  You really should be insulted]

Insert photo of braying donkey here.  Great teeth, you jack-ass!
Insert photo of braying donkey here. Great teeth, you jack-ass!

If I’ve learned nothing else from drawing and writing, it’s that people are going to like what they like, and not necessarily what I find appealing.  The differing tastes and opinions of people is part of what makes the world go ’round. [Reference to my occasional drawing inserted to portray myself as something of a renaissance man, albeit one who had to try three times before finally spelling “renaissance” correctly.  Reference to “making the world go ’round” is a bold-faced lie – we all know damn well that people with poor taste should not be tolerated, and couldn’t have less to do with the rotation of a planet]

Bet you thought I was going to put the picture of the pig in the dress in here again, didn't you?  I'm not just a one trick pony, you know.
Bet you thought I was going to put the picture of the pig in the dress in here again, didn’t you? I’m not just a one trick pony, you know.  On a side note, I noticed some awful issues with this drawing, so I’ll probably never use it again.

Please don’t think this is some kind of a “Read my blog or I’m gonna quit” threat-fest. [Actually, that’s exactly what this is – you damn people better start coddling me a little or I’m going to take my mad writing skills over to the “Rants and Raves” section of the local Craigslist and hang out with the illiterate crowd.  They’ll appreciate me even less, but there’s no like button there, so I won’t know]

Here are a few links to some of the posts I mentioned – no obligation, I’m just happy you actually got to the end of the post:

K8edid

Deadly Sins #1 Gluttony

DS #2 Envy

DS #3 Sloth

DS #4 Lust

Gaga-boo Music

Nudge Wink Kardashian cut-n-paste post

 

 

 

Gaga-Boo Music

By now you may have heard about the Fox News anchor who used a racially derogatory word in her discussion of Lady Gaga’s performance at the Oscars.  The beauty-pageant winner turned newscaster said it was hard to really hear Gaga’s voice with all of the “jigaboo music” accompanying the singer.  I missed seeing the Academy Awards again this year.  I think my streak for skipping that show for 56 consecutive years is impressive, but I’m not here to grandstand.

She's a former beauty pageant winner, and he's a co-anchor.  Is it okay to call someone a co-anchor?
She did well in the swimsuit competition, but faltered during the talent portion, where she showed how limber she was by sticking both of her feet in her mouth. The co-anchor seems to already know he’ll soon have that desk all to himself.  Is it okay to call someone a co-anchor?  That’s not one of those slur-word things is it?

Since I didn’t see it, I guess there’s a slim possibility that Gaga’s back-up music was so raucous and bizarre that the standard English language was simply insufficient to adequately describe it.  If that was the case, the reporter had little choice but to resort to jerky hand gestures or funny sounding slang words like “razzamatazz” or “badonkey-tonk”.

It can be difficult to hear Gaga's beautiful voice, especially in this scene where she sang "..the hills are alive, with the sound of cherry bombs going off in my bra"
It can be difficult to hear Gaga’s beautiful voice, as in this scene where she sang “..the hills are alive, with the sound of cherry bombs going off in my bra”

When criticized for her use of the slur, the news anchor Tweeted her little heart out, spewing apologies and offering the explanation that she didn’t actually know what the word meant when she said it (twice, but who’s counting, right?).  The guy to her left seems to be a little more familiar with it.

In these N-word sensitive times, many white folk simply aren’t up to speed with the broad selection of racial epithets available out there to insult most any group.  In truth, there’s no shortage in colorful words and phrases with which to simultaneously flaunt both ones racist leanings and impressive vocabulary.  I’m not interested in helping popularize any of these lesser known terms and will keep them to myself, unless someone cuts me off in traffic.

As a lifelong speaker of English, I understand that we sometimes say things we don’t mean to.  I say the wrong thing fairly often, such as “Hell yes!” to the offer of yet another pint of beer when I meant “No thank you”.  The difference is that I know the meanings of the words, I just chose the wrong ones.

I know I should've said no, but it's a Goat Boy Imperial Weizenbock!  No one says no to another one of those.  Lookit that cute little goat boy!
No one says “No” to another Goat Boy Imperial Weizenbock, NO ONE !!

When I go to Starbucks, I order whichever coffee drink I’m interested in having, and specify whether I’d like a small, medium or large.  I do not order a yeti or a grande.  Though I’ve certainly been to enough Mexican restaurants to know that grande probably means large, I’m not positive, so I don’t use the word.  To further complicate things, Yeti is another name for Bigfoot, which has the word “big” right in it.  No wonder people are confused.  Besides, the whole thing smacks of pretentiousness, but that’s for another blog post.

My daughter recently brought these back from Seattle, home of Starbucks.  I think we can all make the Yeti/Mocha Latte connection now.
My daughter recently brought these back from Seattle, birthplace of Starbucks. I think we can all make the Grande-Yeti-Mocha Latte connection now.  For the record, Yeti turds have a sweet, nutty taste.

The real story is not that some perky newscaster used a racist term.  The big message is that this woman, who talks for a living, had no idea what she was saying!  Thousands of viewers tune in to find out what’s going on in their corner of the world and this is one of the people who tells them!?    She didn’t know what it meant, and said it anyway – at least that is what she Tweeted, but there’s a chance that she also types things she doesn’t know the meanings of.

No need to bother with a caption, the pic is self-explanatory.
No need to bother with a caption, the pic is self-explanatory.

It’s commendable that people turn on the news in the first place, considering the sensationally tragic nature of most news stories.  Even if some of them are only tuning in to find out who won the game or to ogle the weather girl, at least they’re taking some slight bit of interest in the world around them and not parking themselves in front of a “13 Wives and Counting” marathon on A & E.

Quiet kids, Daddy's watching the news!  (Image from the nayshun dot com)
Quiet kids, Daddy’s watching the news…and learning a little Spanish! (Image from the nayshun dot com)

This talking head has done little to restore peoples’ faith in the news media.  If only she’d stuck to the teleprompter.  In other news, Walter Cronkite is still spinning in his grave like a rotisserie chicken on a cordless drill.  When pressed for a comment, Chet Huntley and David Brinkley both stated they could do a better job handling broadcast news despite their mutual state of deadness.  Stay with us for continuing coverage, we’ll be back with weather and sports after these messages (Pull back to studio shot and cue the Starbucks commercial).

 

More Tawdry Viewing

I didn’t see the MTV awards show this year.  Then again, I’ve never seen an MTV award show.

True to form, those preceding two facts will not deter me from weighing in on this year’s highly-hyped edition.  For those readers who actually saw the awards show, feel free to roll your eyes at the inaccuracies which will soon follow.  For the rest of you, take my word for it and try to enjoy my synopsis.  By reading my account and not actually watching the show, you’ll have saved yourself an hour or two, including roughly 23 minutes of Axe Body Spray commercials.

This isn't the MTV trophy, it's from Darwincountry dot org.  No one can deny the "evolution of outrageous" of MTV's award behavior.  I can't wait to read about what happens next year!
This isn’t the MTV trophy, it’s from Darwincountry dot org. No one can deny the “evolution of outrageous” of MTV’s award behavior. I can’t wait to read about what happens next year!

As a bit of background, MTV Music Television – which hasn’t aired music videos since who knows when – has an annual movie and music awards show.  The show has had its share of “outrageous” moments, all of which served to catapult someone further into the spotlight for a few more minutes.  This is the same venue where Madonna sucked face with Britney and Lady Gaga covered her loins with flank steaks (or maybe she covered her flanks with loins).  Howard Stern once flew in dressed as his own super hero, “Fartman”, and blew up part of the stage with an egger.

The Gagster had originally thought about wearing this tie with khakis and a sport jacket, but didn't think it was "outrageous" enough.  (Image from z a z z l e dot com
Lady Gagster had originally thought about wearing this tie with khakis and a sport jacket, but didn’t think it was “outrageous” enough. (Image from z a z z l e dot com

This year’s big story, if the internet is to be believed, is that Miley Cyrus did a naughty dance on stage.  To be honest, I wouldn’t recognize Miley if she was twerking right in front of my house.  It’s a safe bet that I’d yell at her to stay the hell off my grass though.  I’ve written about Miley before and if nothing else interesting happens in the future, I likely will again.  She’s constantly featured in gossip rags and we all know that’s where I get some of my best material.

Even more fun than Miley’s dancing is the feigned shocked reactions by the media to what they had all expected in the first place.  I don’t doubt that some of the talk-news types already had “outrage over something that was said or done at the MTV awards” penciled into the following week’s programming before the show even happened.

I sat in a doctor’s office waiting room on Monday, listening to one TV talking head after another yabber on and on about Miley’s performance, with one commentator making the suggestion that they should no longer call her by name.  Apparently, “She Who Will Not Be Named” is this knucklehead’s idea of a punishment for someone whose parents named her “Miley”.  It seemed something of an over-reaction to Miley’s antics to put her in the same category as Beetlejuice and Leona Helmsley.

She Who Shall Not Be Named (Image from content dot time dot com)
She Who Shall Not Be Named.  “Why so serious?” – so sayeth the Joker.  (Image from content dot time dot com)

On Tuesday I sat in another doctor’s waiting room and listened to more of the same.  I’m either getting old or I’ve changed careers and become a pharmaceutical sales rep.

At one point, they stopped talking about Miley having unsafe relations with a foam finger and discussed poison gas attacks and the likelihood of the US getting themselves into yet another no-win military clusterfuck in yet another middle eastern country.  There was a commercial break and then it was back to more in-depth debate over the outrageous behavior of former child stars.  Justin Beiber could not be reached for comment as he was busy killing a potted palm.

As the world teeters on the brink of absolute bedlam, I suppose it’s a perverse luxury to spend our time worrying about a skinny white girl shaking her moneymaker on a TV award show.  I can hardly wait to see what diversions next week will bring.