Cake Eater Chronicles

Those Darn Llama Beaches

Well, if Russ can pile on, so can I.

By the way, new mug available in the store based on this design. View the mug graphic here.

Thanks to Idiot Steve for keeping the dream alive!

Beaches Movie blog Beaches Movie blog Beaches Movie blog Beaches Movie blog Beaches Movie blog Beaches Movie blog Beaches Movie blog Beaches Movie blog Beaches Movie blog Beaches Movie blog Beaches Movie blog Beaches Movie blog Beaches Movie blog Beaches Movie blog Beaches Movie blog Beaches Movie blog

ALL YOUR BEACHES ARE BELONG TO US!

What we have here is a failure to communicate.

I realize this is sort of the blog equivalent of slicing off a hostage's toes to get compliance, but so be it.

Broken windows and empty hallways, a pale dead moon in a sky streaked with grey. Human kindness is overflowing, and I think it's gonna rain today.

Scarecrows dressed in the latest styles,
the frozen smiles to chase love away.
Human kindness is overflowing,
and I think it's gonna rain today.

Lonely, lonely.
Tin can at my feet,
I think I'll kick it down the street.
That's the way to treat a friend.

Bright before me the signs implore me:
Help the needy and show them the way.
Human kindness is overflowing,
and I think it's gonna rain today.

Lonely, so lonely.
Tin can at my feet,
I think I'll kick it down the street.
That's the way to treat a friend.

Bright before me the signs implore me:
Help the needy and show them the way.
Human kindness is overflowing,
and I think it's gonna rain today.

Google Bombing below:

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piling on

As you can see, my young cake eater, your friends have failed. Now witness the firepower of this fully ARMED and OPERATIONAL battle station!

What's that? Not ready yet? Freakin' contractors. I guess THIS will be enough. It's not Beaches, but even Emperor Palpatine has lines he won't cross.
muah ha ha ha ha ha ha!

ALL YOUR BEACHES ARE BELONG TO US---PART DEUX

Obviously, Kathy thought I was joking.

Never EVER underestimate a pissed off LLama with a twist in his jockey shorts.

So here's today's easy-listening installment in the Cake Eater's All-Nu, All-Beaches format----I'll BETTE you'll LUV it!

"This is a song I've been singing for a long time. It's like an old friend. But, you know, I think it, it's only recently that I discovered what it's really about."

You've got to give a little, take a little,
and let your poor heart break a little.
That's the story of, that's the glory of love.

You've got to laugh a little, cry a little,
until the clouds roll by a little.
That's the story of, that's the glory of love.

As long as there's the two of us,
we've got the world and all it's charms.
And when the world is through with us,
we've got each other's arms.

You've got to win a little, lose a little,
yes, and always have the blues a little.
That's the story of, that's the glory of love.
That's the story of, that's the glory of love.

As fair warning---because hey, I'm a fair guy and all, for a LLama---that when we've exhausted our repertoir for Beaches, we'll move on to Glitter.

Don't make me explode that bomb here---but you know I will if I have to!

CAKE EATER CHRONICLES: UNDER NEW MANAGEMENT

In regards to the previous post, I'm making the executive decision to change the format as we call it in the radio business, and turn the Cake Eater Chronicles into the "All Beaches, All The Time" blog. That's right, a blog devoted entirely to the Movie That Shook The World: the 1988 chick flick Beaches featuring Barbara Hershey and the indominatable Bette Midler.

Watch it. Live it. Love it. Learn it. Send us your damn money, and we aint payin' no stinkin' taxes on it either!

We're going to make the Cake Eater Chronicles own Beaches on google: to which I say,

Hey, Google! All your Beaches are belong to us!

So let me conclude with the immortal words of Chairman Bette:

Ohhhh, oh, oh, oh, ohhh.

It must have been cold there in my shadow,

to never have sunlight on your face.

You were content to let me shine, that's your way.

You always walked a step behind.

So I was the one with all the glory,
while you were the one with all the strength.
A beautiful face without a name for so long.
A beautiful smile to hide the pain.

Did you ever know that you're my hero,
and everything I would like to be?
I can fly higher than an eagle,
for you are the wind beneath my wings.

It might have appeared to go unnoticed,
but I've got it all here in my heart.
I want you to know I know the truth, of course I know it.
I would be nothing without you.

Did you ever know that you're my hero?
You're everything I wish I could be.
I could fly higher than an eagle,
for you are the wind beneath my wings.

Did I ever tell you you're my hero?
You're everything, everything I wish I could be.
Oh, and I, I could fly higher than an eagle,
for you are the wind beneath my wings,
'cause you are the wind beneath my wings.

Oh, the wind beneath my wings.
You, you, you, you are the wind beneath my wings.
Fly, fly, fly away. You let me fly so high.
Oh, you, you, you, the wind beneath my wings.
Oh, you, you, you, the wind beneath my wings.

Fly, fly, fly high against the sky,
so high I almost touch the sky.
Thank you, thank you,
thank God for you, the wind beneath my wings.

Thank you and good night, and don't forget to tip your waitresses.

You know, now that you think of it, I think I'm going to use this to launch my new religion/cult/tax fraud/money laundering scheme. I mean, if you can build a huge "religious" movement out of crap like Battlefield Earth, why not crap like Beaches?

Stick a Fork in Me, I'm Done

Well, my devoted Cake Eater readers, I'm going on hiatus.

I was actually going to start my hiatus next week, but you'll have noticed the dearth of posting lately, it's probably just as well that I do this now.

Now, now, don't be despondent, my devoted Cake Eater readers. Think of all the crap posts I'm sparing you in the meantime.

There are two things that have led to this decision. First, I am just not interested in blogging right now. I'm tired of this vain little world the blogosphere has become. I'm sick of the preening, the posturing, of the bottle of success only opening and filling the glass of the best link whores. I'm sick of it. I know it shouldn't bother me; I've tried not to let it bother me, but you can only churn out content for so long without any payoff.

Second, I have other things I want to expend my energy on. Yes, that means another manuscript. After the last one spontaneously combusted, leaving only a smoldering pile of shit in its place, it's taken a bit to work myself up to it, but I'm readying myself for another go-round on the Novel Carousel (TM). Now this is the same carousel where---ahem--- if you suck, you're forcibly ejected! I haven't the time or energy to expend on blogging if I want to---ahem---actually write something that will sell. I'm tired of writing novels that don't make me any money, because, my devoted Cake Eater Readers, I want to be sitting on a beach sometime soon, being fed bon-bon's by Javier the thong-wearing, well-greased, cabana boy---and that's not going to happen unless I've got lots of coin.

So, I bid you au revoir, my devoted Cake Eater readers. I will be back.

Sometime.

Probably in the summer.

Information is Life

The husband often jokes that he would die without internet access.

An independent Cuban journalist, Guillermo Fariñas, apparently agrees.

But he's not joking. Far from it.

Visit Fausta's Blog for more information on how you can help save Guillermo's life.

(technorati tags: Guillermo Fariñas, internet)

Don't Mess With Texas!

Or, more accurately, the Texas Alcoholic Beverage Commission.

SAN ANTONIO, Texas (Reuters) - Texas has begun sending undercover agents into bars to arrest drinkers for being drunk, a spokeswoman for the Texas Alcoholic Beverage Commission said on Wednesday.

The first sting operation was conducted recently in a Dallas suburb where agents infiltrated 36 bars and arrested 30 people for public intoxication, said the commission's Carolyn Beck.

Being in a bar does not exempt one from the state laws against public drunkeness, Beck said.

The goal, she said, was to detain drunks before they leave a bar and go do something dangerous like drive a car.

"We feel that the only way we're going to get at the drunk driving problem and the problem of people hurting each other while drunk is by crackdowns like this," she said.{...}

{my emphasis}

Gee. I'm surprised you just didn't post agents in the parking lot and then call the cops so you could have had the DWI revenue. Really. You're shortchanging everyone by enforcing public intoxication laws, instead of going for the much more lucrative DWI charge. Where on earth is next month's donut money ever going to come from if not for the social drinkers who blew just over .08? Oh, wait. You're the Texas Alcoholic Beverage Commission. You're not the police. What did you do? Just drop these hardened criminals off at the local police station and then instruct them to do the processing? I'll bet they just loved that, didn't they? A night's revenue...pissed down the drain in the holding unit at the local jail.

YEEHAW! That thar is some successful law enforcement!

Who knew that Texas, of all states, would turn out to be the next nanny state?

We all know this isn't about drinking, or even drinking and driving, but rather is part of a push for neo-prohibition, right? Don't believe me? Read this and see if you change your tune. (Read the whole thing.) DWI laws do nothing to stop drunk drivers. Trust me on this one. I know.

All The Things I'm Tired Of

In no particular order:

• If Washington D.C. is such a cesspool of graft and sleaze, well, isn't it about time the American people fessed up to their part in creating said cesspool?

  We want to be lied to. We like it. We're codependent as an electorate. We want to have our cake---and we not only want to eat it, we want to lick the platter it came on and then demand some more, and when the cake doesn't come out exactly as we want it, even if we were too busy reading Asian lesbian pr0n to be interested whent the cake was just a thought, well, THERE'S SOMETHING WRONG WITH THAT AND THERE OUGHT TO BE AN INVESTIGATION! Then, on the other hand, we want someone to tell us that we're eating too much cake and to take it away from us because otherwise we'll get fat. This is called "The Theory of Divided Government," and it is the most ridiculous thing I've ever seen. Really and truly. It would be one thing if there was one party in the White House and one party in charge of Congress, but there isn't---we have one party in charge of the whole shebang right now and THEY'RE ACTING LIKE THEY'RE NOT FROM THE SAME PARTY! It's stupid. Absolutely stupid.

  I'm tired of it. If consistency is the hobgoblin of small minds, what then, precisely, is inconsistency? You'll notice no one ever continues that particular thought, do they, my devoted Cake Eater readers, because that would implicate them as part of the problem, wouldn't it? And of course they're not part of the problem. They're the solution. They know all and goddamn if they aren't going to tell you about it until your ears bleed.

• I'm tired of ABC's constant re-running of the damn Lost pilot. WE KNOW THE GODDAMNED PLANE CRASHED ALREADY! Good grief, people, give us new stuff. That's your job!
• I'm also tired of American Idol preempting House. But it looks like I won't have much to bitch about on that one anymore.
• I'm tired of watching my country be abused by others who want our money, influence and protection, but who assume that we should just shut up and let them run things because, of course, they know better than we do.
• I'm tired of working out all the time and not yet being 120 pounds and a perfect size six.
• I'm tired of the idiots on Fox. I can take Shep Smith, Neil Cavuto and Brit Hume---and that's it. The rest of y'all are a bunch of flaming idiots who haven't the good sense to hire a producer who will whisper sweet nothings in your ear and make it sound like it's your own words. You're the biggest bunch of fakers I've ever seen---and that's saying something because I've chosen you lot over CNN! In particular I cannot stand the dorks on Fox and Friends and tweedledumb and his blond bimbo on Dayside. Oy. If I have to hear the phrase "Well, people seem to be really interested in this," as a justification for covering that dumb dog Vivi's adventures around Queens, I'm going to hurt someone
• I'm tired of hearing about this Barry Bonds deal. The guy's a cheater. We knew this a while ago.
• I'm tired of the the oh-gee-gosh-golly! surprise at the coming American isolationism by the same crew who's been bitching about how dumb America is, how stupid our president is, how idiotic we are not to recognize the genius of Kyoto, etc.

  You people have made it ABUNDANTLY clear that you don't like Americans, or anything we stand for or what we do to support our values or protect our interests. Why on earth do you think that certain sections of the American population and economy wouldn't take your message to heart and act to make sure you don't ever have to deal with another American ever again? If the isolationists take over, well, it will be your fault. You reap what you sow.

• I'm tired of winter. It's March 23rd. I want the snow to be gone. I want the grass to start turning green. I want warm breezes that come from the south, instead of cold air coming in from Canada.
• I'm tired of the thought that people want to build a goddamn wall to keep illegals out. I find this offensive. Why do I find it offensive? Because it's the twenty-first century and we're resorting to B.C. tactics. We should have evolved beyond what the Chinese did to keep out the Mongol hordes or what the Romans did to protect against the Celts, don't you think? A wall. That will undoubtedly be scaled or tunnelled.

  A wall that won't do anything to actually solve the problem of WHY Mexicans want to cross the border, but will only force the illegals to find another way to get across. Which doesn't solve the problem, but rather makes it someone else's problem.

  As the noted philosopher John McClane once said: "If you're not part of the solution, you're part of the problem. Stop being a part of the @#@@ing problem!"
  

• I'm tired of Brokeback Mountain jokes. Really, people. It's just gay cowboys. Get over it, already.

Ok, I feel better now. If you're in need of a vent, throw your own "I'm Tired Of's" in the comments.

Double Standards

So, in the wake of the Debra LeFave case, in teacher molestation cases how much does the gender of a victim have to do with the punishment of the perpetrator?

While I fully realize that LeFave would have most likely received prison time had the teenage boy been willing to testify against her, I find it curious that she got off with house arrest, while as the linked article points out, a male teacher who molested a young girl got five years in prison. The husband has, in the past, commented that this was most likely not molestation because, well, boys and girls are different. As he says, "You can't rape the willing," meaning teenage boys are walking hard-ons and that they're pretty much always up for it. (pun intended) They wouldn't be traumatized by having sex with their teacher; they'd be proud of it. And if you'll notice in the article, the victim did not want to testify because of the "media frenzy" surrounding the case, while any trauma sustained pretty much went unmentioned. Take what you will from that.

Which leads us back to the original question: how much does the gender of a victim of teacher molestation have to do with the punishment of the perpetrator?

And, to take it up a notch, are we kidding ourselves when we say that the molestation of a teenaged boy by an adult woman is the same as the molestation of a teenaged girl by an adult man?

I don't know. I believe this boy was molested. I don't believe adults should be having sex with fourteen-year-olds, no matter what gender. I think she should have been put in prison for the same amount of time as that male teacher was. I also think LeFave should also have to register with the state as a pedophile, because that's what she is. I believe in equality under the law, and that means equal punishments as well as rights.

What say you?

Taking the Train to Promo Town

Two things relating to a few of my favorite fellas.

• The Galley Slaves has undergone a bit of a remodel, and they're posting again. All of which is very nice because I was beginning to feel like a dork for going over there and checking to see if they were posting.
• And we have a bit of a news flash: the husband now has a blog!

  Aieeeeeeee! I know. It's quite scary, isn't it? Next thing you know he'll be posting excerpts from The White House Cookbook and ranting on about how kerosene is a good cleaner.

  Erm, anyway, he has recruited a few of his gamer geek friends and they will be blogging on (mostly) tech related stuff, although I wouldn't put it past them to post on elf pr0n in World of Warcraft and the like when things get boring. Go on over and harrass them for no particular reason other than I told you to do so. Because I like pretending I'm omnipotent and this is as good a way as any other to get my kicks.

Leeenk Dump

So, I don't have much for you this morning, my devoted Cake Eater readers, other than some interesting reading that should keep you occupied for a while.

• We have John Fund's latest entry on the Taliban Yalie from yesterday's Opinion Journal. It's windy, but it's quite good.
• There are two Hitchens pieces you NEED to read. The Stone Face of Zarqawi and My Ideal War (Jeff Goldstein has further thoughts on the latter piece.)

  I always find it heartening to read Hitch because he's so damn clear whereas others---whether they mean to or not---often obfuscate matters.

That should keep you busy for the time being.

UPDATE: And now for something completely different...

...a cache of over four hundred videos that is so freakin' wonderful I don't know where to begin.

A small sampling to tempt the palate:

General Public's Tenderness

The Fixx: One Thing Leads to Another

Psychedelic Furs: Love My Way

INXS: What You Need (It's off the Listen Like Thieves album which, just for some Cake Eater trivia, I still have on vinyl at the folks' house.)

For Mr. H., who remembers this video vividly, we have Berlin's Sex (I'm A)

For a bit of a Top 40 guilty pleasure, The Hooters' And We Danced

David and David's Welcome to the Boomtown (Curiously enough, I've heard this song about a thousand times, but I've never seen the video before now.)

Talking Heads Wild, Wild Life, which features a very young, relatively skinny, John Goodman.

I could go on, but go and explore for yourselves.

{Hat Tip: RP}

Goodbye Children, Redux

Hmmmmm.

Isaac Hayes did not quit "South Park." My sources say that someone quit it for him.

I can tell you that Hayes is in no position to have quit anything. Contrary to news reports, the great writer, singer and musician suffered a stroke on Jan. 17. At the time it was said that he was hospitalized and suffering from exhaustion.

It’s also absolutely ridiculous to think that Hayes, who loved playing Chef on "South Park," would suddenly turn against the show because they were poking fun at Scientology.

Last November, when the “Trapped in a Closet” episode of the comedy aired, I saw Hayes and spent time with him in Memphis for the annual Blues Ball.

If he hated the show so much, I doubt he would have performed his trademark hit song from the show, “Chocolate Salty Balls.” He tossed the song into the middle of one of his less salacious hits and got the whole audience in the Memphis Pyramid to sing along.{...}

The truth is, Hayes has a sly sense of humor and loves everything about "South Park." It’s provided him a much-needed income stream since losing the royalties to the many hits he’s written, such as “Shaft” and “Soul Man,” in the mid-1970s.

Even though he’s one of America’s most prolific hit writers, Hayes has been denied access to profits from his own material for almost 30 years.

But it’s hard to know anything since Hayes, like Katie Holmes, is constantly monitored by a Scientologist representative most of the time. Luckily, at the Blues Ball he was on his own, partying just with family and friends. He was very excited about having gotten married and about the impending birth of a new child.

Friends in Memphis tell me that Hayes did not issue any statements on his own about South Park. They are mystified.

“Isaac’s been concentrating on his recuperation for the last two and a half, three months,” a close friend told me.

Hayes did not suffer paralysis, but the mild stroke may have affected his speech and his memory. He’s been having home therapy since it happened.

That certainly begs the question of who issued the statement that Hayes was quitting "South Park" now because it mocked Scientology four months ago. If it wasn’t Hayes, then who would have done such a thing?{...}

Can you say 'Xenu', children?

If this is true---and I wouldn't put it past the Scientology freaks to do such a thing---they not only severed a source of income for one of their members who needed said source of income because---ahem---he has a family to feed, but it would also means they manipulated a stroke victim for their own pr purposes.

{Insert appropriate expletives here}

Posit

The husband and I just returned from a walk wherein he laid down a simple precept that he believes ought to become the law of the land.

Ahem.

NO LAWYERS SHOULD BE ALLOWED IN ANY LEGISLATIVE BODY.

The quick and dirty explanation:

1. The husband believes there are too many laws on the books. He believes that if legislators (read Congresspeople) keep trying to solve every problem by passing a law, the United States Code will soon collapse under its own weight.

2. Hence, lawyers, who have an interest in making sure there are laws to enforce or work around---depending upon which side you take---are not the people who should be passing and enacting laws. It's, ultimately, a conflict of interest, the way the husband sees it.

3. Therefore no lawyers, practicing or otherwise, should be allowed to run for Congress---or any other legislative body. The husband does not believe this to be discriminatory because there are age and citizenship limits already in place for these very same offices. QED

Discuss.

HA-ha

{Insert Nelson Mundt Laugh Here}

If Iowa State isn't in it, well, our consolation prize is that the Hawks blew it in the first round!

HA-ha!

Required Reading

Matt Labash went to Mardi Gras.

Go and read it already.

Again, I'm Begging You, Please

...make the bad, bad man stop.

{...}Daniel Craig, the new James Bond actor, has been accused of being a wimp, but now he has a defender: his dad. “It is all cobblers,” Tim Wroughton-Craig told London’s Sunday Mirror. “Daniel is a hard lad — you wouldn’t want to meet him in a dark street. Is he a wimp? No, I wouldn’t like to call him that to his face. As for the idea he doesn’t like guns — when he was younger he would play with a toy gun like any other boy.” {...}

Oh dear. The Pussy Bond's (TM) called in his Daddy to defend him.

{Hat Tip: Who Else?}

I Can Name that Tune in One Word...

WOW.

Here's the post which brought that dude to my site.

Because I know you're curious.

And to those who come here via those particular search words: if you would learn how to take Google off "moderate safe search," you might find what you're actually looking for.

To Be Blunt About It

March in Minnesota generally sucks.

WINTER STORM TO PRODUCE MORE SIGNIFICANT SNOW THIS EVENING AND THURSDAY.

SNOW ACCUMULATIONS OF THREE TO SEVEN INCHES ARE ANTICIPATED OVER MOST OF SOUTH CENTRAL MINNESOTA AND WEST CENTRAL WISCONSIN FROM TONIGHT INTO THURSDAY. A WINTER STORM WARNING IS IN EFFECT ALONG AND SOUTH OF A LINE FROM WILLMAR MINNESOTA...TO THE NORTHERN TWIN CITIES METRO AREA...TO CHIPPEWA FALLS WISCONSIN. A SNOW ADVISORY IS IN EFFECT GENERALLY SOUTHWEST OF THE MINNESOTA RIVER...ROUGHLY FROM GRANITE FALLS TO BLUE EARTH MINNESOTA.

DURING THE DAY WEDNESDAY...A LOW PRESSURE SYSTEM WILL GATHER STRENGTH AS IT MOVES OVER THE CENTRAL PLAINS. AS THE LOW APPROACHES SNOW WILL BEGIN ON WEDNESDAY EVENING ACROSS WEST CENTRAL MINNESOTA...AND SPREAD INTO SOUTHERN MINNESOTA AND WEST CENTRAL WISCONSIN OVERNIGHT INTO THURSDAY.

And this is on top of the eight inches we received on Monday.

YAY!

I love the smell of sarcasm in the morning. Smells like...capitulation.

On the bright side, Bogus Doug might actually get to use his snowblower this time around.

Celebrity Surgery Secrets Revealed!

So, while it's not a photo of Keanu Reeves' spleen---and thankfully it's not Tom Green's cancerous testicle---Sadie has nonetheless managed to score an exclusive pic of Sean Connery's kidney tumor.

Why did she do this?

Because that girl is a giver!

Puzzled

Could someone please tell me why this is a necessary item for one's life?

No. Really. I want to know.

Heirarchy of Grief

So, you might have heard that Maureen Stapleton, 80, died over the weekend of chronic pulmonary disease.

You might have also heard that Dana Reeve, 44, died last week of lung cancer.

Most of the obituaries about the former have gone out of their way to point out that she smoked, one even went so far as to call her a "legendary smoker," while all of the obituaries about the latter have also gone out of their way to point out that she'd never smoked.

My question is this: why is it anybody's business whether they smoked or not?

Because you know what the implication is, don't you? Maureen Stapleton, because she smoked, brought on her own death. Dana Reeve, however, did not---and boy did her PR people ever make sure EVERYONE and their brother knew she hadn't gotten her lung cancer because she'd fired up a Marlboro once upon a time.

The first time I ever read the phrase a "heirarchy of grief" was in an article in the New York Times a few months after 9/11. I vaguely remember the article being about division of all of the donations received and how this "heirarchy of grief" was making itself known because it was suggested that the families of firefighters and police officers should receive more money than the families of civilians who had died in the attacks because they'd raced into the buildings, while the others had run out. While the government had to eventually bring in someone to decide who got how much the phrase has always stuck with me because while one would assume that death would be the universal leveller, it's really not.

It seems like a small thing that someone smoked during their life. It's not that big of a deal, really. It's just a habit, after all. And it's one you can have and people might never know about it. (Believe me, it's possible.) Yet, here we have two obituaries and both of them mention the smoking or non-smoking habits of the deceased. It's nobody's business---in either case. It seems to me that the media is, yet again, inserting bias into their work. After all, the obituaries seem the perfect place for---once again---hammering home the point that smoking kills. They're attempting to create the same sort of heirarchy of grief with announcing someone was a smoker---or in Dana Reeve's case making sure people feel badly for her by announcing the tragedy of lung cancer without smoking to blame it on.

I do not enjoy the idea that some obituary writer gets to slap on the morality police badge and shape the reader's image of the deceased by listing out their non pc individual habits. It's no one's business that Maureen Stapleton smoked. Really and truly. Conversely, it's no one's business that Dana Reeve didn't.

After all, they're both dead. What does it matter?

Llamalanche!

When Kathy and I talked about doing the Big TWELVE series of posts, I joked about wanting to get a llamalanche. Mission accomplished.

Pushing Back

Do you really need more evidence that blocking the ports deal was a bad idea?

How's about this: "Arab Central Banks Move Assets Out of Dollar"

{...} Middle Eastern anger over the decision by the US to block a Dubai company from buying five of its ports hit the dollar yesterday as a number of central banks said they were considering switching reserves into euros.

The United Arab Emirates, which includes Dubai, said it was looking to move one-tenth of its dollar reserves into euros, while the governor of the Saudi Arabian central bank condemned the US move as "discrimination".

Separately, Syria responded to US sanctions against two of its banks by confirming plans to use euros instead of dollars for its external transactions.

The remarks combined to knock the dollar, which fell against the euro, pound and yen yesterday as analysts warned other central banks might follow suit.{...}

Oh well done, Congress. You should be proud of yourselves.

Here's my question to all you eager beaver Congresspeople: you blocked the ports deal---and Republicans in particular betrayed their President---for cheap electoral gains. Are you brilliant Congresspeople ready to face an electoral wrath if the dollar tanks, and inflation booms?

Because the President is safe from that sort of scrutiny this time around.

You brilliant Congresspeople, however, aren't.

{Hat tip: Martini Boy, who has further thoughts, as do his commenters.}

Goodbye Children

Issac Hayes---the voice of Chef---is quitting South Park.

Over religion.

NEW YORK -Isaac Hayes has quit "South Park," where he voices Chef, saying he can no longer stomach its take on religion.

Hayes, who has played the ladies' man/school cook in the animated Comedy Central satire since 1997, said in a statement Monday that he feels a line has been crossed.

"There is a place in this world for satire, but there is a time when satire ends and intolerance and bigotry towards religious beliefs of others begins," the 63-year-old soul singer and outspoken Scientologist said.

"Religious beliefs are sacred to people, and at all times should be respected and honored," he continued. "As a civil rights activist of the past 40 years, I cannot support a show that disrespects those beliefs and practices."{...}

Mmmhmmm. Couldn't be that they made serious fun of Scientology, could it?

I mean, I don't remember Isaac having issues when they lampooned the Catholic Church. Or when they made fun of the Mormons. Or when Jesus went up against the Devil in a boxing match. Or even when Satan just wanted to be cuddled by Saddam.

"South Park" co-creator Matt Stone responded sharply in an interview with The Associated Press Monday, saying, "This is 100 percent having to do with his faith of Scientology... He has no problem — and he's cashed plenty of checks — with our show making fun of Christians."

{...}Stone told The AP he and co-creator Trey Parker "never heard a peep out of Isaac in any way until we did Scientology. He wants a different standard for religions other than his own, and to me, that is where intolerance and bigotry begin."

{my emphasis}

Can I get an 'amen'?

A Little Help From My Friends

As some of you, my devoted Cake Eater readers may vaguely remember, we're big fans of the Financial Times around here. I don't bother with the paper most of the week, but on Saturdays, well, you can't keep me away from it. As the wise RP once wrote, "I heart the weekend section." I wholeheartedly agree. The FT's weekend section is quite wonderful and when I'm done reading it, I do try to give the polymath---it's a crossword with a weird name---a good whack every week, but usually I don't have too much luck.

This week, however, I'm four away from finishing the damn thing--a first---and I need your help, my devoted Cake Eater readers to do so.

If you know any of these throw the answers in the comments. The numbers in parentheses are how many letters are in each word. I'll also list out what letters I do have in each word, too.

28 Across: Department of northern France, created in 1790 and abolished in 1968. (5-2-4)

S_ _ _E_T_I_E

31 Across: Symbiosis (9)

M_ _ _A_I_M

10 Down: In Ancient Greece a male citizen from 18-20 years of age. (6)

_P_E_E

(I think it's some sort of variant of 'Spartan' but I can't figure it out for the life of me!)

18 Down:A name applied by German students to anyone not connected to the university (9)

P_I_ _ _ _ _R

I thank you in advance, my devoted Cake Eater brain trust. I'm sure you have the answers hiding in the recesses of your brain. Please share, so I can retire this puzzle.

UPDATE: Thanks to everyone who helped me fill in the pieces of the puzzle! IT'S FINISHED! Woohoo! I'm so excited! And, yes, I realize it's pretty silly to be excited at finishing a crossword puzzle, but, hey, my life is actually pretty boring so maybe you should give me this one, ok?

Snow Day!

I should have known: it was fifty degrees the other day; it's March in Minnesota; the other shoe was bound to drop, ending all that joy.

The local weatherguy says we've got somewhere between four and eight inches of heavy, wet snow, but it's not like I can look out the window and eyeball it. No sirreee. Because all the screens are covered with snow. I'm just glad we have satellite because for a time last night we didn't. Usually this is the kind of snow that knocks that bad boy right out.

Anyway, it looks like Mr. Tinkles got out of cat prison and went nuts with the flocking machine again.

They actually cancelled school here, which---stop the presses---is not something that happens every day. The husband turned on the news, saw footage of many sideways buses and decided to take a snow day.

Here's the view from one of two snow-free windows, which, conveniently, happen to be right next to my desk.

It was a good thing that I took this picture when I did. I had the window open and was aiming for the next shot when....

...that same bough broke.

I can't get a clear shot of the fallen bough from here, because the snow is blocking the screen, but suffice it to say that it was a very clear and loud 'crack.' The husband, quite rightly, berated me for missing the action shot.

confusion

Apparently, mu nu is holding onto my posts and putting them up at inconceivable times. Friday night's post wasn't there on Saturday morning, so I assumed that it was eaten by the machine and wrote a new one. Then my post from this morning hasn't shown up on the main page yet. Is this domain run by Big 12 officials, or are the llamas doing a "Duck Amuck" on me?

disclaimer!

I've earned my first "this article does not reflect the opinions of our site" disclaimer for my article on ISU's loss to Okie State in the tournament and the general situation of basketball in the Big 12. I wrote seven articles for them last year, and one this year, and this is the first time they've felt the need to distance themselves from my remarks. That's cool, because I did mention in my email to the head reporter accompanying the article that I would understand if they decided not to publish this piece (they recently published a letter from the owner of the site calling out two members of the athletic department for their unwillingness to cooperate with the website's efforts to cover ISU sporting events). Let's see if they decide to publish my next article, covering specific instances of how screwed up things were in Dallas and comparing & contrasting three of Dallas' gentleman's clubs. Hmmm, come to think of it, Kathy might feel the need to slap a disclaimer on some of these posts when she realizes there's nary a literary or cultural reference in the whole bunch.

relief

We made it home last night, the worst thing that happened (that anyone can remember) is that Hogfarmer got kicked out of Gilley's. Why? Who knows? He wandered off from the rest of us in the bar, so we weren't around to witness the event, and his memory isn't clear on the issue. Three of us went with him to another bar, and the others finished the night at Gilley's. There was a cool country-rock band playing last night (Jason "someone" and the Stragglers). They had a sortof Steve Earle thing going on, and it was a pretty good concert while it lasted.

relief

I'm back in the room safely, with no scars, bruises, major debts, or warrants attached to my person or name. We managed to make the tour of Dallas' club scene, but we got thrown out of Gilley's. Let me make this clear. Our drunk companion managed to behave in bars where women take most of their clothes off, but he got thrown out of a country-western dance bar. I was finishing my last beer when Maximum came over and told us "Hogfarmer's getting thrown out. We've gotta go now." He couldn't remember why they threw him out, but apparently it must have been fairly benign, since they passed on the chance to do the nightstick boogie on him. Hopefully, this is the closest we're going to come to jail this weekend.

This Post is a Prime Example of Why I Have a Category Titled "Idiots Abound"

Damn.

ATASCADERO, Calif. - A retired salesman alleged a stripper and her friend beat and robbed him in his home. John Skinner, 54, said he was on his way to Bible study on Jan. 23 when exotic dancer Maureen Murphy, 25, knocked on his door and offered him a free strip-o-gram.

Murphy said a friend had already paid for the show, police said.

When Skinner agreed to let her perform, knife wielding Richard Adam, 23, allegedly forced his way inside and told Skinner he owed Murphy, owner of Bikini Assassins, and another woman money for earlier services.

Skinner said he owed Talbert money for sex one time but not for a previous time when he said she fell asleep before they could have sex.{...}

And all of this happened as he was on his way to bible study, too!

Potato, Pohtato

Ken emails me this link and tells me it's quite funny.

Well, I don't really think so, but then again, I rarely watch ESPN---and when I do it's to watch sports, not SportsCenter.

All I noticed is how absolutely helpless they all are when their teleprompter doesn't work.

You might think otherwise because you watch SportsCenter all the time or whatever.

The Cake Eater Chronicles: We're All About Pleasing the Masses.

You Say "Maverick"...

I say 'idiot' who's more interested in reelection, power grabbing and making a name for oneself instead of doing what you're supposed to be doing as the Chairman of the Committee for Homeland Security, which is to keep the country safe.

Which, just for the record, he didn't do. He actually made us more vulnerable.

Thanks for that, asshole!

Let Us Chat For a Brief Moment About A Little Thing Called "Momentum"

The husband and I just finished watching the Battlestar Galactica season finale and I'm a wee bit pissed off.

I will leave a discussion of the plot for another time, lest I spoil it for the west coasters/Tivo viewers, but I will simply say this: if they could have shoehorned one more commercial into an hour and a half program, they would have. This fracked fucked with the telling of the story. The episode never gained any momentum and what would ordinarily have been a quite dramatic storyline was a joke by the time we got to the end.

I'm glad the show is successful and that the SciFi Channel is making a goodly amount of money on it, but they got greedy with this episode and it was a detriment to the telling of the actual story. Which, believe it or not, I was convinced, up until this point, was something they cared about.

fear

Our last man finally showed up this afternoon, and this might be my last post. He finished a bottle of Captain Morgan while I was cleaning up in the shower. That was about an hour ago, and he's gone downhill fast.

He was Okeydokey until we got in our cab to run down to the West End. BLAM! Right between the eyes. It was like watching Lon Chaney turn into the Wolfman. We met the others at Joe's Crab Shack, and we damm near got thrown out. "Hogfarmer" had VOLUME issues, and he wouldn't stop dropping f-bombs, even after we pointed out the families sitting within earshot of us. Unfortunately, "within earshot" tonight means within the range of Dallas' strongest FM radio station. Now we're going to make the rounds of strip bars in the Dallas area. The cabbie we've been using since the first night gets $10 for everyone he drops off at a gentleman's club using his admission tickets, and he offered to drive us around the rest of the weekend for free if we agree to visit each of the clubs for 10-20 minutes, have a beer, then leave. We're going to run around doing this and then go to Gilley's, which is our original destination, for the rest of the night.

"Hogfarmer" has a history of causing complete strangers to utter those magical three words to us within minutes of making his acquaintance. Those three words that can change your life, and alter your plans irrevocably.

HE'S
GOTTA
GO

We came back to the Embassy to change clothes and get ready to go out for the night. I wanted to quick leave this message and tell all of you how much fun I've had guest blogging here JUST IN CASE we end up somewhere without internet access (and without individual toilets and separate bedrooms, ifyouknowwhatimean) by the end of the night. Keep your fingers crossed, sportsfans.

dejection

Iowa State just lost to Oklahoma State in the first round of the tournament. This could get interesting. Some of the best stories we've got about tournament antics occured during years when we lost early. We're here until Sunday, and we're either going to sit in the room and play quarters all day, or go barhopping. Gilley's is on the menu for tomorrow night, and Saturday night might require another trip to Gilley's, since Asleep At The Wheel is playing there and I've never seen them live.

Want details? Take the jump.

I flew into Dallas from Kansas City last night, and hooked up with two guys who flew in from Saginaw and Minneapolis. Our flight had some turbulence, but to me it wasn't more than a fast drive down a potholed street. I guess the guy sitting behind Billy Iowa on the flight from Saginaw blew chunks when they hit turbulence. Chief flew in from Minneapolis with his wife & kids, and they're staying with her brother's family while the Chief has a little "guy time". Maximum had his flight from Denver delayed about 4-5 hours, and he had to sit buckled into that un-airconditioned metal tube the whole time. Ugh. He finally got to our hotel about 10:30, and we drank a few more beers then headed out to the West End bars at about 11:30. Our cabbie immediately told us that "the West End bars are all lame on Wednesday night", and he suggested a local gentleman's club instead. He gave us "free" tickets for admission, saving us $20, and we went along.

When we got there, I knew we were a LITTLE out of place. It was a "Penthouse" club, and there were a bunch of Lexi and Hummers parked there along with the usual limos. We signed up for "temporary memberships" at the front desk, and proceeded in. The cabbie had told us "the place is a bar, a sports bar, and a gentleman's club all in one", but their only concession to a sports bar was two big-screens. One was playing a soccer game (doesn't Beckham play for Madrid now? I remember seeing him on screen) and the other was tuned to ESPN. Of course, for some strange reason there weren't a lot of people watching the screens.

My plan was to lie low and take in all the scenery without spending all my damn money, but the trouble was that most of my cash was still in my suitcase back at the hotel. I had $45, and about $4 worth of quarters on me, which should have covered my night, but unfortunately I'm not familiar with Dallas Math. Using Dallas Math, a bottle of Shiner and three Coronas (I love those guys, but I swear to god they drink like a cross between high school girls and frat boy wannabes) add up to TWENTY EIGHT DOLLARS plus gratuity! OK, that's not so bad, but I'm an innocent small town boy who likes to stretch my dollars as much as possible. I bought the first round, and figured that I'd be set if we only had 5 or 6 rounds. Big mistake. I turned down several lap dance offers politely, but I finally relented when one of them offered me a backrub instead. Hey, it's a backrub. Wouldn't that be like going to a topless chiropractor who plays Limp Bizkit and techno music while you're getting adjusted? Well, that's how I look at it anyway.

After my backrub (fully clothed backrub while I'm sitting at the table, so no interesting details to report) was finished, I realized that the going rate is $20, which means that I've got to mooch five bucks from Billy Iowa. He'll remind me of this all weekend, I just know it. Billy had his own entertainer to talk to while I was trying to stay incognito with my broke self in the corner. A dancer came over & plopped down in his lap (we give Bill crap about looking like one of the Baldwin brothers so he's usually a stripper magnet), and he started dropping Ron Burgandy quotes on her. Turns out that she's a big Anchorman fan too, so she starts quoting stuff right back at him. She was pretty funny, and she had the line of the week too.

When we asked her about what goes on up on the second floor, which is the "VIP" area, she said "Less work and more money".

That's funny on so many levels.

Choice Words

As in the kid has some choice words about sapphic experimentation in sorority houses.*

*GET YOUR MIND OUT OF THE GUTTER, YOU PERVERT!

Hurrah!

Phin Jr. has made his appearance into the world!

Go on over and wish them glad tidings!

UPDATE: WE'VE GOT PICTURES!

In Honor of International Women's Day

See also: Agent Bedhead

The Finer Points of Blackmail

Congresspeople are thinking above their pay grades. Again.

WASHINGTON - In a congressional election-year repudiation of President Bush, a House panel dominated by Republicans voted overwhelmingly Wednesday to block a Dubai-owned firm from taking control of some U.S port operations. Democrats clamored for a vote in the Senate, too.

By 62-2, the House Appropriations Committee voted to bar DP World, run by the government of Dubai in the United Arab Emirates, from holding leases or contracts at U.S. ports. The landslide vote was the strongest signal yet that more than three weeks of White House efforts to stunt congressional opposition to the deal have not been successful.{...}

{my emphasis}

Or you could rephrase that bit in bold to read: "The lanslide vote was the strongest signal yet that in more than three weeks of Congressional electoral grandstanding that the White House has yet to cave to these morons' demands." It just all depends upon how you want to look at it.

{Insert best, booming Ron Popeil Voice Here}

But wait, there's more...

{...}Raising the stakes, the panel attached the ports language to a must-pass $91 billion measure financing hurricane recovery and wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. The committee was to approve the entire bill late Wednesday and the full House could consider that measure as early as next week.{...}

I do so enjoy interparty blackmail, don't you? Keeps things lively.

/sarcasm.

If the GOP really is the party of national security; the party that will keep our country safe, well, one might think they, ahem, might actually want to achieve that goal. Alienating the UAE so Congresspeople can look like they're tough on terror in their primaries this spring and actual races this fall is the height of stupidity, and as I've written previously, is actually more damaging to our national security than this port deal ever will be.

Whoa!

"Unfortunately, no one can be told what the Matrix is. You have to see it for yourself."

almost there

PAY NO ATTENTION TO THE MAN BEHIND THAT CURTAIN! I AM THE GREAT AND POWERFULL RUSS!

A Pussy Bond(TM) Round-up

Despite many appeals to God to pleasepleaseplease make the bad man stop, they just keep on coming.

First we have a Bond who's scared of socialites and, apparently, knows his Pucci when he sees it.

Second, fresh from his Oscar victory on Sunday night, we have Paul Haggis---the writer/director of Crash and a writer on Casino Royale---declaring that:

{...}But all the bells and whistles, all the things that Q used to give him, the gadgets, those are all gone. "So you deal with the character as an assassin and what it feels like to be an assassin. "And I ask the questions, 'Why does he treat women the way that he treats them?' "So I've either helped to re-energise this series, or I've just ruined James Bond for everybody forever."

And, last but not least, we have the Pussy Bond (TM) admitting he never really wanted to be Bond in the first place.

Yep.

And because of the producers refusal to pay Pierce---or Clive Owen, or Hugh Jackman or any number of other decent, hardworking actors who would have actually appreciated the job---fair market value for his services, we have this jagoff.

{Many thanks to Chrissy, who keeps emailing me all these stories}

almost ready

Ugh! MooKnew hiccuped this morning, and I mistakenly triple posted an inside joke. It's kind of funny once, but three times is kind of like the last 70 or 80 minutes of Wayne's World 2, you know what I mean?

leaving

Just getting ready to walk out the door and make the "grueling" ten block commute to work. The last thing I'm going to do before leaving? Flush the toilet.

Yeah, my wife isn't going with me, but better safe than sorry, right?

Anticipation

It's 10 pm, and I'm as busy as a one-legged man at an ass-kicking contest. Sorting clothes, packing, and trying to finish any remaining work before I leave for Dallas tomorrow afternoon. I've just sent my first article to Cyclone Nation, and I thought I'd get a quick shout out to all the Cake-eaters out there (a big 'ol Hee-Haw SAAAA-LUTE to y'all). I'll post my normal articles to CN and link them here, but I told Kathy I'd have special content for all her beloved readers. Consider this additional info to be the "Lifestyles" section of my dispatches.

Not to change the subject, but is it just me or would the Oscars be better as a reality show? They should have let "Daily Show"-boy come on stage with a giant "Price Is Right" topic wheel and spin it to determine the topic for the night's awards.

My choice? Westerns. This is a compromise. Alternative lifestyle-afficionados will love the fact that their sheepherder epic will be there in the running, but due to the fact that Hollywood has forgotten how to make good westerns we'll have to hop into the wayback machine to get some movies to work with. And don't think that we're sticklers for form here: I'm more than happy to have a category for "Best Remakes of HIGH NOON Set in Space with Dr. Fronkensteen's Monster, James Bond, and That Woman Who Played Cliff Clavin's Mom On Cheers In The Cast". Sure, it takes away some of the drama, but that's a small price to pay to honor microgenres in the Western format.

"Best Anti-Hero Western"? The Wild Bunch. "Kevin Costner's Best Western Role"? Open Range (this one actually has some competition, remember SILVERADO?). Think about it. What's the worst Western you've ever seen? Well, other than TOMBSTONE.

What? You expected me to stay on topic? Gimme a break, the games haven't started yet, and I'm sitting on my couch right now. If you think I'm off topic now, just wait until I start drinking.

Gotta go. I should finish packing.

It Wasn't, "The Price is WRONG, Beeeyotch,"

...but it'll do.

{Hat tip: Chrissy}

Just for The Record

I've stayed at one of Lileks' Iowa motels.

Yeah, I know you care.

Shush.

Anyway, it'sThe New Frontier in Ames, to be specific.

I don't know if it's still there, but it's where the parentals used to stay whenever Christi and I moved back to school. Ames is just far enough away from Omaha that even if you manage to get out of town and on the road first thing, by the time you reached the dorms and unloaded all of your kid's assorted crap, it would have been pushing the limits of your endurance to get back home. It was much easier to stay at the New Frontier because it was right on the way out of town---or at least it was on Mom's way out of town: everyone else took Highway 30 going the opposite direction to hook up with I-35 to Des Moines, which would lead you to I-80, which went to Omaha. Mom....well, she's never enjoyed driving on freeway through cities all that much, so whenever she could find a back way, she'd take it. And her back way into Ames was via Hwy. 169 to Boone, where she'd hook up with Hwy. 30.

This is also the part of Ames that was, at that time, still quite rural. The New Frontier was right next door to the drive-in, which was next door, to, well....not much that I remember. There was a good steak house, The Broiler, on the other side of the motel, which pretty much was one of three fine dining experiences in Ames. It was a quiet little place, only about twenty rooms, always clean and tidy. There was a chain-link fenced pool in the middle of the parking lot that no one ever swam in, and a neon sign that I only remember flashing "no vacancy" once all the times we stayed there. It wasn't fancy, but, as the Cake Eater Mother reminded us more than once, it had beds and it was clean. That's all that really mattered.

Reaching the motel was always a signifier that we weren't in Omaha anymore, too. Now that may sound more than obvious, but while Ames was a smallish city, it really wasn't anything like where we grew up, and this was as good a place to remember that fact as any other. There were cornfields behind the motel, and when the wind picked up, the stalks rustled loudly enough to disturb your sleep if you'd left the window open. The air was different, too. It was always August when we stayed there, hot and sunny, and unbearably humid at times, but the air was sweet with the fragrance of the country. And, no, I don't mean the fragrance of cow shit. It's something much, much different. Something sweeter, fresher than anything you could ever smell in the city where cars and pollution and people subtly thicken the air. It was the fragrance of productive, Iowa black dirt mingled with the hot, tarry, asphalt of the parking lot, with something green and sunny mixed in.

All these years later, I can see that it was a good transitional place. At the time, however, I will admit I could never see the place in the rearview mirror fast enough. I was always anxious to get back to school---and I drove my mother to distraction trying to get back there. Being home wasn't a happy place for me in the summers---all I ever did was work, read, and watch MTV---so whenever it was time to go back to Ames, where my friends and my social life lived, well, that was a good thing in my book. It seems the place was aptly titled, because that's where another new frontier started, even if I was as itchy as hell to get out of the place.

It looks like the place still exists. It undoubtedly still hosts families with itchy college students, just raring to get going on their lives and who wonder why they heck they're staying out in the middle of nowhere.

March Madness

So, I'm supposing everyone knows that tourney time is upon us?

You do? Ok, good, because I've got a surprise for you, my devoted and Big-XII-Conference-Basketball-loving Cake Eater readers. Rabid commenter and occasional guest blogger, Russ from Winterset, is heading down to Dallas tomorrow to drunk blog the Big Twelve men's (and women's, too, I suppose.) tournament. While he's on official duty for Cyclone Nation, he's agreed to throw up a few posts from the tournament here at the Cake Eater Chronicles, which means he is the---ahem---OFFICIAL CAKE EATER COLLEGE BASKETBALL CORRESPONDENT.

Because we really needed a college basketball correspondent.

{Insert much blatant winking here}

Tune in this evening for what promises to be the first of many entertaining and beer soaked tournament posts.

Random Question(s) of the Day

Do men really think this is attractive?

I see this and I want to force feed her Oreos. And none of those wimpy original oreos. No sirree. I'm talking Double Stufs---with twice the lard filling. And milk. Glass after glass of Vitamin D whole milk.

It Must Be Spring

...because suddenly we have a social life again. Amazingly enough, most of it was blog related, too.

On Friday, I had the opportunity to chat with this lady, and this lady, and this lady and this dude, who it appears was the only XY chromosome carrier in residence at Casa Feisty this weekend. They weren't too deep in the margarita pool when they chatted with me, but I could tell things would be going downhill shortly. I'm glad everyone had a fantastic time and I wish we could have been there. Sigh. But I'm glad I got to participate, even if it was in such a limited way.

On Saturday night, Tracy and his lovely wife, Julie, hosted the inaugural MOB Wine Tasting at their gorgeous home and the husband and I were in attendance, along with Bogus Doug---the happiest of the happy drunks---and his wife, Ellen; The Millers; David Strom and Margaret Martin; and Jim, who also writes for the Anti-Strib and his wife Joey.

We were tasting pinot noirs, which I will freely admit I have little to no experience with, but fortunately for me, I wasn't the sole taster. We were all required to bring a bottle of pinot, our hosts brown bagged them and then we completed a blind tasting of eight wines. The winner was a 2002 Vampire Pinot Noir that was quite tasty. Afterwards, we smoked cigars, (yes, kimosabe, I'm included in that "we") drank cocktails, and chatted for what turned out was a good long time---the husband and I were surprised to see it was just shy of eleven when we left, and we'd all arrived (quite punctually, actually) at six-thirty.

It was a lot of fun, although, in one memorable exchange, I was accused by my otherwise-gracious host of snubbing the Anti-Strib because it's not on the blogroll. Hmmph. If I was snubbing you, Tracy, you'd know. Trust me on this one. But because you throw a good party, I made the HERCULEAN effort and added you on there---and because you let me raid your gin stash, well, here you go....

Tee hee.

Oscar Snark: The 2006 Edition (UPDATED, with fancy schmancy pictures, too!)

Ok, we're moving on to the ceremony itself.

As is usual, I'll keep updating if you keep refreshing. It's a quid pro quo excursion, kids---live up to your end of the bargain.

• ok, so we enjoyed Jon Stewart's little opening bit with the former hosts. We laughed. We cried. It was much better than "Cats."
• The gay cowboy thing was HYSTERICAL.
• Clooney will not win the rest of the night.
• Mr. H and I have decided that we're in agreement: Ben Stiller annoys the fuck out of us.
• what's up with those big bow ties? I get that now. Sorry to be an idiot there for a moment.
• Naomi Watts looks so washed out.
  
• Dolly, honey, at some point in time you have to cut the plastic surgeon loose or you will end up looking unnatural. This is that point in time. You're on the verge of freakish, darling, and while I realize you don't have a problem with that, your defenders might. Stop now, while you've got the chance.
  
  
• Ok, I'm glad they're actually letting non-actors up on the stage this year, but why do they keep playing music while they're talking? RUUUUUUDE!
• Is it bad of me to say that I enjoyed Steve Carrell with fake eyelashes?
• say "Tom Cruise is vulgar" Lauren! Say it. Please???
• The best actress attack ads were v.v. funny.
• Charlize Theron's dress is UUUUUUGGGGGLY! God, that is not flattering AT ALL!
  
  

  What is that? A pillow for convenient Oscar napping? Jeez!

• Please, God, when will the Oscar people realize that we actually don't need to hear the nominees for best song? I mean, really, they're just going to give it to Randy Newman, anyway. It's such a waste of commercial time.
• Mr H.: "I'm waiting for Michael Jackson to fly up on the top of the {burning} car.
• The TRAVESTY version of P&P: 0 for 3! WOOOHOOOO!
• Don't break an arm, Hollywood, by patting yourself on the back too hard.
• Salma, could you please have just one day where you look like shit so the rest of us could have a good day? Just a thought. Maybe we'd rent Frida for the quid pro quo.
  
• That TRAVESTY P&P is 0 for 4! WOOOOOHOOOOOO!
  

  But, to throw her a bone, Keira is wearing the best necklace of the night, by far.

• STOP plugging going to the movies, people! If you want people to go to the movies, well, make sure the experience doesn't suck. Clean theaters, make sure people turn their phones off, make sure that your feet don't get stuck in sticky spilled soda, make sure that someone's not giving their boyfriend head up in the upper rows. And this isn't even getting into the fact that MANY OF YOUR MOVIES SUCK!
• I have nothing against hip-hop, but "It's Hard Out Here For A Pimp?" Really? This might just be the performance that kills the song performances. Or at least one can hope.
• I guess not.
• Man, I wish Jennifer Garner would have bit it. That would have made up for the whole last season of Alias
• Ok, so I think Jon Stewart is being quite funny. Then again, I thought it was quite wonderful when Adrien Brody let loose on Halle Berry, not realizing a world of feminists would object, so what do I know?
• Ok, it's five minutes to ten and we've got what? best actress, the writing awards, best director and best picture to go? This thing is so not getting over with any time soon.
• YAY REESE!
• Is anybody reading this thing or are you all ignoring my hard work.
• Yeah, that's what I thought.
• Ok, sorry about that, but they sped through the last few awards and then it was over! Sheesh. If they got rid of the music numbers, perhaps they wouldn't have to do that. Just sayin'.

  Ok, here's the thoughts: not surprised that Larry McMurtry wore jeans to the Oscars. Good for him. I'm sure he was the most comfortable man in the room tonight. I'm glad Ang Lee finally got an Oscar and I was quite surprised that Crash won best picture. I think they all were, too. They actually seemed quite overjoyed that they won, which was nice, even if stupid Bill Conti cut off the producer during her acceptance speech. I swear they wouldn't have done that if Spielberg had won for Munich. Oy. Highly annoying. And that wasn't the first time they'd done that this evening.

  And, now, I have a table full of half-empty food dishes that needs clearing away so that I can go to bed. Good Night, my devoted Cake Eater readers. Thanks for stopping by.

  And bonne chance.

  Because I'm cheeky that way.

MONDAY MORNING UPDATE

• At what point does your stylist say to you, "Darling, eat a cookie or three because your head is beginning to look freakishly large in comparison to your body." ?
  

  Somebody, please, tell Hillary Swank to eat something! I'm having this horrible image of her head falling off, and rolling down the hill because her body couldn't support its weight anymore.

• I know Sandra's married to Jesse James now, but she and Keanu just look so cute together I had to throw in a picture of them.
  

  Good for her, too, for wearing a dress with pockets if she didn't want to carry an evening bag. It's just too tacky when women dump their crap in their man's pockets.

Pre-Oscar Snark: The 2006 Edition

And hello there, my devoted Cake Eater readers. We're back once again with the liveblogging of the self-important celebrities' big night. As is the usual, I'll keep updating if you keep refreshing.

I'm watching E's Live from the Red Carpet:

• Thank God, it appears Star Jones has hauled her fat ass---whoops---her skinny ass elsewhere for the evening.
• Although, I have no idea how you American Idol fans stand Ryan Seacrest. There's no getting around it: he's a big fat phoney. Although even at his heaviest he'll never be as heavy as Star Jones. Even when she's at her lightest.
• Yep. I'm starting with fat jokes. The snark level should increase in class as soon as a. I get warmed up and b. I get more wine in me.
• Dolly Parton is always cute
• Keira Knightley's necklace is incredible!

  

• Clooney is still hot. Even if he is a commie pinko.
• I'm going to go and check and see if Sheila is having issues with Eric Bana's hotness.
• I really like Keira Knightley's necklace, but---and let me make myself clear on this one---SHE IS NOT WINNING THE BEST ACTRESS OSCAR FOR THE TRAVESTY VERSION OF P&P. Are we all clear on this? Good. This message was brought to you by The Firth as Darcy Club (TM).
• Fast Faisal co-wrote Good Night and Good Luck???
• Is Ludacris really someone I should know? Because I have no idea who the #$@k this individual is, but it appears his head is as huge as a head can get.
• Mr. H. is here!
• we've switched over to the ABC preshow and Jennifer Aniston needs to eat a cookie.
• and oh my god are they asking the most asinine questions ever?
• the husband to Jamie Foxx: "I remember when you were in drag on living color."

Proof Positive

You Are Austin

A little bit country, a little bit rock and roll. You're totally weird and very proud of it. Artistic and freaky, you still seem to fit in... in your own strange way. Famous Austin residents: Lance Armstrong, Sandra Bullock, Andy Roddick

I've long wanted to live in Austin, but life has thwarted my ambitions every time---to the point where I'm pretty damn sure it's NEVER going to happen.

It's good to have confirmation about my instincts though.

{Hat tip: Cal Tech Girl}

Odds and Sods

A couple of things...

• I need to extend a large "thank you" to my assorted guest bloggers who filled in for me while I was gone. You people are fabulous.

  I also need to explain why I did not buy cheap Mexican trinkets that I promised my guest bloggers. Because I think some of you are counting on them. And I'm sorry to say that I wanted to buy you stuff but, damn, I just didn't have the time. We really were in Mexico for only a half-hour, and by the end of that half-hour my anal-retentive, obsessive-compulsive (there ain't no "borderline" about it) father-in-law was vibrating so badly at the thought of walking around further in dirty downtown Nogales, replete with beggars and salesmen saying, "I need your dollars!", one would have thought he was a Magic Fingers bed and someone had inserted a roll of quarters into the coin box. He couldn't handle it, and we couldn't handle him, so we left without the requisite schlock.

  Sorry about that, but hell, you didn't really want a tile frog or something like that, did you?

• The Oscars are this Sunday and, yes, I will be liveblogging them. Coverage will start with the preshows at 5p.m. CST. As per usual, I'll keep updating with snark galore if you'll keep refreshing.

And there was something else, but I've completely forgotten what it was. Oh, well. You'll just have to live without whatever bit of information I was going to jot down, aren't you? Somehow, I think you'll manage.

Image, Baby, Image

It's been said that the way to know a man is by the company he keeps.

TORONTO (AP) — It took an old Bond to come to the rescue of the new Bond. Roger Moore, who played Agent 007 in seven of the James Bond movies, said critics of the film franchise’s new star, Daniel Craig, should give him a chance.

“He’s a helluva good actor,” said Moore, 78, noting that critics haven’t even seen Craig in the role yet. “So why attack him?”

{...}He also dismissed suggestions that Bond is obsolete in a post-Cold War, post-9/11 world, where real terrorists like Osama bin Laden and al-Qaida have trivialized such Bondian super-villains and organizations as Goldfinger, Blofeld and SMERSH.

“It’s fantasy,” counters Moore. “Bond is fantasy, there’s no real substance to it. It’s a figment of imagination. ... (It’s) sort of crazy, you know, a spy who is recognized wherever he goes. Spies ain’t like that.”

When the Disco Bond(TM) rushes to your defense, well, you really are the Pussy Bond (TM), aren't you?

In related news: Ford stockholders shit truckloads of golden eggrolls when they learn how much Ford paid to get the Pussy Bond (TM) to drive their Mondeo model in Casino Royale.

One can only hope Ford sent an automatic version to the set.

@@#@#$!#!$#$%@Q##@$@!!!!

Die you rotten comment spammer bastards, DIE!

The Recap

It was a good trip.

And I got some sun.

If you were looking for more than that, my devoted Cake Eater readers, well, check back later and I'll see what I can do about fulfilling your desire to know all.

UPDATE: I ate way too much, too.

UPDATE DEUX: Oh, and I went to Mexico for about, oh, a half an hour.

Tired

Oh so bloody tired.

And, yeah, we're home. It's been a loooooooooooong day and I will recap the trip for you, my devoted Cake Eater readers, tomorrow. I'm going to go and pour myself some more wine and then take a nice long soak in my own tub. From whence I will fall into my own bed and sleep the sleep of the righteous.

It's pleasant to be home. It's always weird to walk into your house when you come home. There's that little bit of anxiety that something won't be right, but once you get the mail, haul the suitcases in, unlock the doors, turn on the lights, etc., the world slowly begins to right itself. That's when you find out what you didn't get done before you had to leave the house at five am because your ride to the airport was getting antsy. As far as I can tell there were only two things that did not get done before we left the house last week.

The first was that the dishwasher didn't get started.

If you feel like being grossed out---AND I REALLY MEAN THAT. CONSIDER YOURSELF WARNED!---take the jump for the second thing that didn't get done before we left the house on Thursday, February 23rd.

Someone had a bm and forgot to flush.

And it sat there.

FOR SEVEN DAYS.

The same amount of time that it, reportedly, took God to create the universe.

The Cake Eater bathroom smelled like a porta potty when we got home.

We don't remember who the last one in the bathroom was. We have no idea who committed this heinous offense simply because it was before five am last Thursday and our memories are kind of dicey. And no one's fessin' up, either, which, one would think, is understandable.

I bleached the bathroom. I'm currently out of Febreze. The aerosol kind. I've still got some of the spray bottle stuff, but I'm also almost out of that, too.

We just closed the windows, as well.

Now don't you feel better about yourselves, my devoted Cake Eater readers? I mean, I'm sure YOU would never do such a thing. Consider this my gift to you for being gone for so long. Laugh long and hard right now because we'll never mention this again.

Capisce?

Bad Haikus For Kathy's Return

Hey everyone, Cake-eating Kathy returns from her southwest adventures today. Let's welcome her home with the time-honored practice of crafting some bad haikus in her honor. I'll start:

She returns today
From places sunny but far
Hope she brought me stuff

Kathy loves her wine
Even when she’s drinking in
A southwest desert

Guest blogging this week
Was truly cakealiscious
Ripping weenie Bond