The Star Mangled Banner

We all know that Sunday's rendition of the Star Spangled Banner at the Super Bowl was less than perfect. But in comparison to other renditions, hey, it wasn't that bad. Don't believe me. Take a gander at this. The video below was shot a couple of years ago in Chattanooga, Tennessee. Apparently, "Officers from across Hamilton County Tennessee gather in front a memorial to remember fallen law enforcement officers." That's all I know. Well, that and that the "singing" of the "anthem" is nothing like I've ever heard before. It kind of sounds the same as the anthem penned by a one Francis Scott Key. Kind of. And the guy "singing" is kind of carrying a tune, so I guess that's why it's called singing. Other than that, there aren't a lot of similarities to the national anthem of the United States actually being sung. No. In fact, there are very few if, in fact, any more than the ones I have just cited. Take a listen. Recognize any of it? It's OK if you don't. It's barely recognizable as much of anything.

See? I told you. Look, I admire anyone who can get up and try to sing in front of others, especially for something as important as a memorial for fallen law enforcement officers. I really do. But for something that important, don't you think that maybe you should just do a quick scan of the words? Maybe even rehearse it once or twice the day before? Carry the lyrics up there with you if you need to. It's OK. I won't think less of you. (Well, I won't think less of you if you read the lyrics and get it right. If you have lyrics written down and you still can't come up with the correct wording? That's odd and I cannot be a party to something like that.) But when you're up there "singing" as if your vocabulary has just been put on "Shuffle" and random words are just flying out of your mouth in a semi-discernible tune? That's exactly how you end up on YouTube and that's exactly how you end up the subject of today's post. And really, those are two things that I don't think many of us would ever strive for.

O, Say Can You Sing?

Congratulations to the Green Bay Packers on a Super Bowl game well played. While I enjoyed the game, I really think that the commercials were not up to par. And if you're going to try to tell me that it isn't about the commercials, well, you'd be wrong. If you're forking over $3 million for a thirty second ad spot, you're supposed to kick it up a notch. But I'm not really here to talk about the commercials. No, I'm here to talk about the national anthem. And I think I shall start out by asking, "What in the what was that?"

The anthem, most of it, was sung by a one Christina Aguilera. She claimed, at the time that she was anointed vocal belter of national tuneage, that she had "... been performing the anthem since I was seven years old and I must say the Super Bowl is a dream come true." A quick check of Wikipedia shows that Ms. Aguilera is now thirty years old. That should have given her twenty three years to practice. Too bad it wasn't twenty four.

See, she appeared (translation: she totally did) to have forgotten the words or remembered the words incorrectly at one point. I only say this because instead of singing "O'er the ramparts we watched, were so gallantly streaming", she came up with "What so proudly we watched at the twilight's last gleaming." Yeah, that's not right at all. She managed to correctly place and sing the words "we watched", but other than that, I had no idea what she was talking about. It's like she kind of took the second line from the anthem "What so proudly we hailed at the twilight's last gleaming" and kind of mixed it in with what she was supposed to sing. And while she didn't really miss a beat while she sang it, it was still wrong.

The video of her debacle is below. If it doesn't play, try clicking here and watching it over at YouTube. I wasn't really all that fond of how she sang the rest of the song, albeit correctly. I guess I like it better when the high notes are hit instead of being taken down an octave so that they're doable for the average singer. And while I'm not calling Christina Aguilera average, her performance certainly was.

What's With The Macaroni And Cheese?

Parents. Well, parent in this case. What is wrong with some of them? Well, what is wrong with this one in this case. There are a number of things wrong with the mom (or supposed to be adult caretaker). These will be pointed out by the narrator of this disturbing clip, a one Tosh.0. (That's pronounced Tosh Point Oh. I don't know why. I don't know what it means. He is wearing a stunning purple sweater vest, however.) But really, the biggest question here is: "What would lead anyone to think that this is OK?" The second most nagging question here would be: "Is pouring dry Kraft Macaroni and Cheese all over yourself supposed to be sexy?" ('Cause it's not!) Yeah, I don't get that part at all. If you do understand the mac n'cheese bit and can explain it to me, please do. But I'm talking about a logical explanation. I don't want an obvious explanation along the lines of "Just look at her!" I am looking at her! And it hurts my eyes!

Tosh.0
Guess What Happens Next - Bad Mom Strips for Kids
http://www.comedycentral.com/
Web Redemption 2 Girls, 1 Cup Reaction Demi Moore Picture

Reverse Natural Selection?

Sometimes, you just have to see things to believe them. And I think that a lot of the times when that is the case, once you see them and once you believe them, that doesn't necessarily mean that you understand them. That's why you're usually left just wondering what in the world is wrong with a lot of people. And that would include wondering what in the world is wrong with the media covering such stories.

Take, for example, the family of Ardi Rizal. Ardi and his family live in Indonesia. And according to the Washington Post, there has been somewhat of an uproar after "Shocking photos of....Ardi Rizal puffing away on up to 40 cigarettes a day" came to light. Sure, sure. I know a lot of people smoke 40 cigarettes a day. I don't know how in the world that they afford it, but I know that they do it. The thing that makes this a little bit more of a head scratcher is that Ardi is 2. As in "years old". Two years old. Smoking up to 40 cigarettes a day. Wait. He's two and he...? That's right.

While I am usually a huge fan of the Washington Post, I am not a huge fan of how they covered this story. If they were trying to win some sort of a prize for presenting the subject in the most irrelevant manner possible, then they were on top of their game. Other than that, well, I'm just glad I didn't pay for it or anything (even though I still feel a little gypped). They talked to a one Matthew Myers of something called the Campaign for Tobacco-Free Kids which is located in Washington, D.C. Mr. Myers was quoted as saying, "This reflects a pervasive problem in many low-income countries where tobacco companies market their products to an uneducated public." Really? Are they marketing their products in such a way that it is implied that babies should be smoking cigarettes? No? OK, then. Anything else?

Unfortunately, yes. He also stated that "...anybody, at any age, can buy cigarettes in Indonesia". Wait. What now? Anyone, regardless of age, can buy cigarettes in Indonesia? Oh, now I see why that's a relevant fact! Of course. Because this two-year old wouldn't be able to smoke if he hadn't been able to go out and purchase the cigarettes that he's smoking on his own, right? Of course not! What does that have to do with anything?! Oh, nothing? Let's move on.

Now, a one Seto Mulyadi, who heads the country's child protection commission, "...blamed Ardi's two-pack-a-day habit on advertising and clueless parents." Well, that's a little bit better. Though I'm still not sure what advertising has to do with this. I'm really liking the pointing the finger at the clueless parents, however. It's probably an understatement to say that's the most likely culprit here.

But maybe I'm wrong. Let's check in with this toddler's parents and see if they strike us as being of the clueless bent, shall we? First, we'll hear from the boy's mother, Diana. "He's totally addicted. If he doesn't get cigarettes, he gets angry and screams and batters his head against the wall. He tells me he feels dizzy and sick." She apparently doesn't seem to see her part in all of this. She apparently doesn't seem to think that she is the parent and that she is in control and that, eventually, all of the screaming will subside. Hmm. Yep, there are definitely indicators of cluelessness here. Let's check in with the father next.

But wait. Before we do that, I should probably also mention that not only does this two-year old smoke two packs a day, he also "...weighs 56 pounds. He's too fat to walk far so he gets around on a plastic toy truck." Yeah, see, just when you thought that it couldn't get any sadder, then it does. Let's quell that sadness with anger, OK?

The boy's father, Mohammed, is the moron who gave the kid his first cigarette when he was 18 months old. Nice job, Mohammed. Now your kid is incredibly fat and addicted to cigarettes. How does that make you feel, Mohammed? "He looks pretty healthy to me...I don't see the problem." Really?! He can't walk, you dumbass! Do you see other two-year olds getting around on a plastic toy truck whilst smoking a cigarette? No? Then he's NOT OK, you nitwit!

Seriously, I know that there are different cultures and all of that, but this has so much wrong with it that I really can't even make up anything good to say about it. I guess they're not fortunate enough in Indonesia to have things like Child Protective Services or stuff like that? (That really is a question, as I have absolutely no idea about the social services of the Far East.) Oh, wait. I just read that there is some intervention being attempted with this family. "Concerned officials offered to buy the family a car if Ardi quits." A car?! That's how social services work in Indonesia? They bribe folks to do the right thing?! Grand. Good luck with that, Indonesia. Gooooood luck with that.

The video of this tragic, preventable and completely unnecessary situation is below. If it doesn't load, try clicking here. Oh, yeah, and thanks (I think) to my friend for bringing this to my attention.

Ardi Rizal - The real SMOKING BABY !! free videos" classid=clsid:D27CDB6E-AE6D-11cf-96B8-444553540000 width=364 height=291 type=application/x-shockwave-flash>

Enjoy Your VD

Today is Valentine's Day or, for those of us who are bitter and (technically) alone, Sunday. I don't really understand the point of this day. I mean, shouldn't you tell people that you love them all year 'round? Of course, that's provided that there are actually people that you would actually want to tell them that you love them because you actually do. That's a tall order, my friend. Very tall.

Regardless of my dislike for the holiday, if you like it, well, Godspeed. But don't screw it up, all right? If you're going to buy her (or him) something, make it something good. We love jewelry, but we usually like to pick it out ourselves. We love Victoria's Secret, but we'd prefer a gift card rather than some satin-y, scratch-y thing with garters that you'd pick out for us. (Believe it or not, there is sleepwear out there that is sexy and that does not make us feel like a five dollar hooker.) We love cash. No "but" with this one. Cash is cash. But there are some things that we do not want.

We do not particularly want flowers. Sure, flowers are nice, but you're getting so ripped off by buying flowers for Valentine's Day that it's hard to enjoy something that someone else got reamed up the wazoo for. (And if you've ever been reamed up the wazoo, you know exactly what I'm talking about.) I don't know any women who would be thrilled to be handed a box of chocolates. None. It's not that we don't enjoy candy because we do. But it's a whole box. And while we don't want to make you feel bad by not eating it, we also don't want our ass to end up being the size of Nebraska.

But let me tell you what we really don't want. We really, really, really don't want a teddy bear. We don't care if it's from Vermont. We don't care if it's dressed in some sort of 1980s aerobic gear complete with headband and leg warmers. We don't care if our name is emblazoned somewhere upon the animal. Yes, we realize that it's cute. But it's a teddy bear. And, well....with a world full of jewelry and gift cards and cash (my God, the cash!), it's difficult to be excited (or thankful) when handed a teddy bear.

The video below is courtesy of those fine folks over at Saturday Night Live. It's one of the funniest things they've ever done and it conveys the "Don't you dare buy me a teddy bear for Valentine's Day" sentiment better than anything else ever could. Enjoy your VD!

Gettin' Knotty

This one is odd but, sadly, it's not the first time we've heard of something like this. That probably indicates that it won't be the last either. Huh. Unfortunate.

Let's go over to Airdrie, which is in the United Kingdom (in some place called Lanarkshire, possibly North Lanarkshire) and read what the Scottish Sun has to say about one 21-year old and old enough to know better William Shaw. It would seem that Mr. Shaw managed to get himself banned from a public park. Not all public parks, just one park in particular. He was banned from Central Park in Airdrie for demonstrating behavior that's really not appropriate for a park. Actually, it was behavior that really wouldn't be deemed appropriate anywhere. However, most of those places would be outside and since a park would also be outside, it's really not going to make much of a difference that he was banned from A park because he can just go to another park. Or a forest. Or an arboretum. There are a multitude of places that Mr. Shaw could go to engage in his untoward behaviors. What's that? The behavior? Oh, I'm sorry, I almost forgot. Yeah, he was having sex with a tree. Wait. What now?

Correct. A tree. He was having sex with a tree. Fornicating with nature. (WARNING: A multitude of puns, some bad, some even worse, will be forthcoming. Be prepared.) He must have really been pining for something like that. (See? And that's only the beginning.) According to the article, this whole thing started growing roots last September when it was alleged that "...he dropped his trousers and underpants and exposed himself while in the visitor attraction." Um, I don't know about you, but behavior like that is not much of an attraction for me. No, more like a distraction at the very least. Offputting as hell is what it is.

I'm assuming that since the tree couldn't come bark to his place with him that it's what led him to allegedly try "...to have simulated sex with the tree while his trousers were around his ankles." Now, look, while I really don't need to dissect thing thing from top to bottom, I have to ask where in the hell else his trousers would have been if he was, in fact, doing what it was alleged that he was doing! I mean, sure, it's a tree and all, but the sex part is still the same and you've gotta have your pants off (from what I can remember).

He was released on bail "...on the condition that he stays away from Central Park." And again I ask, how in the world is that going to help?! It's a tree! It's knot like you can't find another tree somewhere, right? I mean, I wouldn't find another tree! I wouldn't find A tree in the first place. But apparently Mr. Shaw wood!

"Last night Shaw was unavailable to discuss the allegations at his flat." Um, I don't think that "unavailable" is the most accurate term. Unless by "unavailable" he means "unwilling" in which case it's exactly the same thing. Fortunately, there was a neighbor that was available for comment who stated "I have seen him about and he seems a quiet lad."

::: blink ::: ::: blink :::

Um, how loud and/or quiet is one supposed to be before they will be labeled as an obvious tree humper?! I'm not so sure that the decibel level of ones voice and/or other body functions that make noise is any sort of an indicator of this sort of behavior. In fact, I'm pretty darned sure that it's NOT! AT all! What is wrong with you people who are the neighbors of weirdos? Why is that the only damn thing that you ever have to say?

Seriously. It doesn't matter if you're a tree lover (quite literally, in this case) or a serial killer, if your neighbors are interviewed they're always going to say "They were pretty quiet." Or "I didn't really know them that well." Well, of course they were and of course you didn't. Because if they weren't quiet and if you did know them well, you'd find out that they were the sort that likes to fornicate with flora! THEN would you be happy?! I don't think you wood!

Just once I'd like to hear someone say something like, "Oh, that fruitcake? Humpin' a tree, you say? Oh, well, that doesn't surprise me in the slightest. The other day I caught him fondling my azaleas for the umpteenth time! He's always out in his yard, pleasuring himself with the pansies. One day I caught him stroking that tree over there, calling her a 'dirty birch' or something like that. I asked him to leave." You never hear that. (Actually, I'm kind of glad that we never hear stuff like that. Carry on. You were saying? He was a quiet lad...)

I just have a couple of questions. One, how did this guy avoid getting splinters? I'm thinking that if you're going at it with a tree of all things, you're going to be running a fairly serious risk of getting stabbed in your grundle on more than one occasion. And two, if he felt like getting really knotty, do you think he'd have a treesome?