Busy, busy day today... and miles to go before the day is through. So I'm going to be lazy, throw up a few links (heh!), make a few brief points, and call it an entry, mmmm-kay?
The "Generalissimo Francisco Franco is still dead" news of the day: Nick and Jessica are still not breaking up. Aren't you relieved? I know I am.
Sore Loser of the Week: Freddie Mitchell, of the Philadelphia Eagles, takes offense to the trash talk of the Super Bowl Champions. Freddie? It really doesn't matter what was said. They won; you lost. Move on, dude. There's always next year.
Who's flying your plane? Robert Feneziani is a commercial pilot who flies for United. Evidently, he also has some anger issues. Comforting, yes?
Duck and Cover, the Next Generation: North Korea has nukes. Is anyone surprised by this news? Anyone? Bueller???
Common sense and the law? The hell you say! In a rare display of good sense, lawmakers have chosen to drop the bill (proposed in Virginia) that would prohibit lowriders that display the wearer's underwear. Look, I think that's a lousy fashion statement, and I wouldn't recommend that my kid ever try that look; but it's not a policing issue. If we were to go down that path, there are any number of fashion issues that could require fining: fat women in spandex (oh, hush; I'm a fat woman, and I'm telling you it's just wrong), hairy men in Speedos, combovers... the list is endless. Congratulations to the Virginia Senate for recognizing that some things just aren't worth legislating.
The human bell curve: First, Courtney Love was a skanky, drug-addicted musician. Then, she classed up and became a moderately attractive, moderately talented actress. Well, she's skanked back up.
Oh, get over yourself: Dr. Gail Saltz tells women how to guilt-trip maniuplate assist our men into being romantic. Oh, how this kind of stuff bugs me. May I complain, please? Why, thank you. Too many women are hung up on stereotypes of what's romantic. If your man doesn't send you flowers and give you chocolate on Valentine's Day, he must be a lout. If he doesn't put the toilet seat down after he pees, then he's an insensitive jerk. If he wants to watch a lousy football game without being interrupted every five minutes, he doesn't love you.
Ladies, please: what is it with the roses and the chocolates, anyway? How does going to a store and spending an ungodly amount of money on stuff that won't last a week show that your man loves you? And why - please, God, tell me why it matters if he puts the toilet seat down. Isn't it just as thoughtless for us always to leave the seat down when he has to lift it? And just what exactly is wrong with football, hmmm?
Look, romance is all in the perception. Yeah; flowers are nice. You know what's nicer? A man who takes care of you when you're sick. A man who's good to your children. A man who tells you you're beautiful, even when you know full well that you look like crap. A man who'll help you clean out the garage. A man who will tell you the truth. A man who loves you enough not to buy into the crap that says he needs to waste his time or money on meaningless gestures one day a year, because he shows you he loves you every day. Now that's romance.
