The 2 Minute News

- Spermanent Scarring: A woman saves a man's sperm and impregnates herself with it. She apparently told the Judge "Them sperms is mines to keep", and is able to get away with it. Men, take this as a lesson: always snowball to cover yourself.

- Give the guy a break: Someone told him hamburgers were covered in fur and your best friend.


They really are brilliantly delicious dogs. Speaking of which...

- Hey Illiteracy! Get to the back of the bus, now!

- Someone call Mother and wash her hairnet. I've found the ideal job for her: "Schools Rationing Out Food to Fat Kids." Verbal abuse is legal in Singapore, right?

- Pammy told Gina who told Carl who told Susie who told Paul who told my neighbor who told me that this dog is such a slut.



- And finally: 8-Bit Tattoos. Just in case you needed to personify Zelda and his/her elfin "Legend of the Wireframe Glasses".


I'm not saying I'm for these tattoos, but out of all of them, I can almost understand this one.

Is NBC Trying to Tell Me Something?

My MSN Homepage:



Every morning this week on Today:



Hey, NBC, I GET IT, ok? My daily tantrums and emotional shutdowns are not just "personality quirks". Enough already.

In other news, PAGING THE BIGGEST LITTLE JENNIFER LOPEZ FANS! You can be on the Today show, and then live the rest of your life in complete, fat-assed, talentless shame.


If only he were real.

Google Searches are Like Rorschach Tests

Because they tend to reveal the truly insane.

We've already been around the block when it comes to unusually odd search terms. But take this latest Google Search that someone used to access this site:

• Friends are like buttons one can bring you down the other one can bring u up

Now at first, I thought someone had plugged a clever little saying (or "CLS") into this engine to access my genius (for example, someone recently signed off their e-mail to me with the CLS "Plant Ya Now, Dig Ya Later", which I thought was brill.)

But the more I thought about it, the more cartoon steam poured out of my ears. Because A. Friends are not like buttons at all, and B. How do buttons bring you down and up? Now, "Friends are like elevators", that I can see. But buttons?

Here are some sayings that make 9000 percent more sense:

- Friends are like buttons, they hold your clothes together.

- Friends are like buttons: Sometimes they fall of your coat and you have to buy a whole new coat cause of that one lousy button.

- Friends are like buttons fly jeans: you won't get your crotch caught in them.

- Friends are like buttons: JK, They're Totally More Awesome Than A Fucking Button.

Button's a pretty funny word when you think about it. Awww, look how sad this lil' button is:



Also, this hilarious blog called Query Letters I Love, documenting one man's descent into movie madness.

Happy Birthday

Let's all take a second and celebrate, shall we? For it was exactly 11 years and nine months ago that this:



mated with this:



and gave you this:



Happy Birthday, Dakota Fanning.

Sobbing Them of Their Dignity

Aww... he's like a lil' stuffed Gordon's Fisherman.

Japanese Toy Makers prepare to take the world into new depths of desperation and loneliness, by creating a toy line targeted towards the elderly. And because why rewrite what's already so perfect, I give you this:

As Japan produces fewer children and more retirees, toymakers are designing new dolls designed not for the young but for the lonely elderly -- companions which can sleep next to them and offer caring words they may never hear otherwise.

The Yumel doll, which looks like a baby boy and has a vocabulary of 1,200 phrases, is billed as a "healing partner" for the elderly and goes on the market Thursday at a price of 8,500 yen (80 dollars).

Seriously, friends, when I get to the age where I need a STUFFED DOLL to give me companionship, won't ya'll pull a (WARNING: MILLION DOLLAR BABY SPOILER) Million Dollar Baby on me and just put me out of my misery?

Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm gonna go spoon with Stretch Armstrong in the file room.

SIDE NOTE: You know what commercial I LOVE? (clearing throat) "The Sun goes up! The day arrives! Another day... to feel ALI-IVE!" for OJ? Man, that just re-made me depressed about old people.


No kidding around, this image is on Mr. Miyagi's IMDB page.

Favorite Headline Evah

HUGE FIBERGLASS BOOT STOLEN FROM YARD

You didn't hear it from me, but I've got my guilty money placed on this guy:



Also, check out this website featuring exercise for the morbidly lazy.

Active at Any Size


Demonstrating Relay Basketball, Derrek shows the proper form for trading your ball for a handful of meatloaf.


Oh! One last thing. Coming soon to a theater near poo, hopefully starring Roberto Benigni.


More like Peen-ouch-ee-oh. Or bad-joke-ee-o.

Tenacious Me

Things have been busy around here today. But to tide you over until my next posting, I've found something truly magical.

JACK BLACK IS IN NEED OF YOUR GRATITUDE.

I'm almost serious, and not quite kidding. This guy actually EXPECTS people to just donate pounds to him. Looks like he could spare a coupla pounds for OTHER people... Zing-o!

But c'mon... tell me this little pig face ain't spitting image? Not really an insult, as I find Mr. Black quite attractive. (In case he reads this, goat-hooves crossed.)

UPDATE: The link has since been pulled. It was called "My Gratitude", and Mr. Black below was asking people for .99 pence donations because he couldn't afford to "buy kebab at his local kebab shoppe." You can't blame a fat guy for trying.

UPDATE to the UPDATE: Here's a screenshot of the listing, "My Gratitude", but the Ebay link above should work


Lord only knows what he uses his webcam for.

Also, enjoy this listing for a CD by a band called Lillian Axe, five poorly-coiffed do-badders encouraging grandmas everywhere to get medieval on your misbehavin' ass.

While We're on the Topic

I have a lot of things I need to get off my back. Open letters seems like an entertaining and fruitful way to do it. Here I go.

AN OPEN LETTER TO THE NIKE AD TEAM

Dear Nike Ad Team,

I'm not sure who is running your department, whether it be the devil, or John Wayne Gacey, or whoever. But you know that 19 minute long commercial where you play heart-palpitating nightmare techno over images of athletes donning spandex unitards and huge, hellraiser like masks, or huge gilded goat faces? Well, it induced a panic attack at 2:38 a.m. last night.

Not sure who you're aiming these ads at. Psychotic baby killers who need to jog away from the scene? Or maybe rugby players interested in going to Carnivale in the Underworld?

I kept my mouth shut during that whole sweatshop thing. But inducing panic among your customers is simply unethical.

Sincerely,
Michelle


Look how you scared this dog, Nike.

---------------------------------------------

AN OPEN LETTER TO MARC SUMMERS



Hey Marc,

It was awesome seeing you at dinner last night, (Otto, 1 Fifth Ave.). Sharing the room with the same man who hosted Double Dare, Unwrapped, and a series of obsessive compulsive disorders was my treat. Kirk Cameron haircut or no, you seem like a great guy! It's always been my dream to win that Minivan in the Double Dare final challenge. And I won't bring up "What Would You Do?" if you don't.

Sincerely,
Michelle



---------------------------------------------

AN OPEN LETTER TO OPEN LETTERS

Dear Open Letters,

When did you get so popular, Mizz Thang?

Impressed,
Michelle

You Have the Right to Remain Delicious

I swear to you, if you read this blog, I am making this REQUIRED reading/viewing.

TROOPERS TERRORIZED BY WILD TURKEYS

and the accompanying VIDEO FOOTAGE.

I first caught wind of this fiasco on the Today show this morning. Which reminds me...

AN OPEN LETTER TO THE TODAY SHOW



Dear Today Show,

I just wanted to thank you for your highly informative special this week about germs and bacteria, and how we can prevent ourselves from being infested with disease. From the hand washing lesson (30 seconds of lather, 30 seconds of rinsing), to the "only wear your pajamas once, then wash them" rule, to the whole "things that grow on your towel" segment, I am truly a changed woman. A paper-pajama wearing, raw-handed, air-drying woman.

Oh, and thanks for the tip about Clorox Wipes at the work place. I've wiped every single thing down (pens, stapler, foam cubicle divider -- everything but my panicked expression) and have rubber banded a single, moist towelette around my face to avoid breathing in any toxins. Katie, Matt, Al, Ann, you are a most informative, sleek-looking group of miscreants. May the Apocalypse not forget about you.

Disinfectigly yours,
Michelle

I Can See Your Tour-de-France

Hey, has anyone ever thought of calling it the "Tour de LAAAAANCE"???

OH. Oh I see.

Lance Armstrong to Ride in Tour de France.

RELATED: Francesucks.com, a website I'd bet more people would take seriously if it wasn't written in what I can only describe as "internet fecal matter." i.e. it's crazy.

For Me to Poupon

Thanks to The Write Stuff for sending this article my way, about The Mustard Museum and its battle with Readers Digest, the only magazine you can read on the toilet and then use to wipe your ass. (JK, Highlights for Children.)

The name of the Mustard College that's part of the Museum's charm? POUPON U.

Damage Control, Mustard Style

Like a Maniacal Jacko in the Box

So I keep singing "We Are The World" in my head, except my version is only the line "There are (pause) people dying" over and over again. Not kidding about this. (Update: It has taken me 4.5 hours to realize that that line is from "Heal the World", from flu-stricken-molester fame.)

A couple of hot button issues I need to get off my chest:

First, a site brought to my attention by Screenhead yesterday, "Jew of the Day", which, as I'm probably the only Jewish blogger out there, I feel forced to bring up and comment on. Jew of the Day, or JOTD, is a good idea in theory: a website that brings up a notable Jew with a little biography every day for your own enlightenment. For example, who knew that I share the same bloodline with Monty Hall from Let's Make a Deal and Paula Abdul from a soon to be determined drug rehabilitation center (I was sure she was Arabic).

But a couple of things came to my attention. For starters, whoever edits this site should pay more attention to who they group together in any given week. For example:



Now maybe it's just me, but don't you think they could've given more than just a three day buffer between Anne Frank, who for many is the face of the Holocaust atrocities, and Lisa Bonet, star of the soft-core pornography "Angel Heart"? I mean, wouldn't Barbara Streisand be a better choice?



Wait, that's Barbra Streisand?.....


I shit you not, they use a picture of a female impersonator for Barbra. Maybe this site is more legitimate than I give it credit for.

Moving on, check out this video of a woman falling off a small ledge while crushing grapes, and injuring herself. I'm normally not into stuff like this, but it's worth a look. (thanks to Jon.) Also, it took me hours to download, but if you're patient, try it out.

Next up on my rant this Tuesday, as always MSN.com brings us the hardhitting news.

This time up,

HOW MUCH FAT ARE IN STRAWBERRIES. Someone get Morgan Spurlock on this immediately.



Nightmares haven't been living up to your usual suicide-inducing standards? Perhaps this "German clown", PantomimeNEMO, will inspire you.


This character's name is called "The Karnevalist", which reminds me of how the circus near my house used to have a "ride" called "Das Fun Haus", which sounded to me like the kinds of lures Mengele would use on his subjects.

Full circle? Your welcome.

Finally, a major R.I.P. shout-out to Jacques Villeret, beloved French film actor and star of one of the funniest movies ever, The Dinner Game, who passed away suddenly on January 28. If you haven't seen this movie, do this blog a favor, sign up for Blockbuster Online (wink wink) and rent it. Shameless plug, yes, but an honest tribute nonetheless.

Cats Off To Ya!

Please be warned: I killed so many brain cells this weekend that today's blogging might be on the pooped-pants side of childish. There's nothing like an open bar at a house party, not remembering how on earth you got home, and waking up the next morning with a huge bruise on your knee and every single earthly possession of yours strewn on your floor. It reads like an archaelogical dig, trying to put together the events that somehow landed you under your covers spooning a box of Triscuits (Happy Valentine's Day, Trisky.) And in all this chaos, I somehow had the good sense to remove my contact lenses and place them not in their designated contact case, but directly in front of the case, on my dresser, where they hardened and wrinkled much like your face after a night of heavy smoking/drinking. I'll save you the more colorful details of my return home, but I will say this: Grey Goose vodka can knock a bitch out.

So today, halfway recovered, I bring you some snapshots taken of my cat, Lutzy (Hungarian for Louis), from my last trip home in January. It may not be fully evident in these pictures, but this cat really hates my ass. Maybe it's because I still put him in bonnets, plop him in an abandoned baby carraige, and push him around my house like the proud mother of an overweight, fur-covered newborn. Or maybe it's all of that psychological torture from when he was a small rapscallion ("Nobody loves you! Nobody! That's why we only feed you dry food... we all hate you.") JK, obvs. JK.


Lutzy's preferred method of cooling off his "ghost balls." Oliver Sacks indeed.


Seen from behind.


I quietly harass him with my lens as he covers his eyes to block out the vision of me.


I get in closer to further the harassment.


YOY! Liddle Kiddy Feet. Heh, heh, heh.


Leave quickly. He knows.

Where Dreams Become a Reality TV Show

I've posted a new recap of Tuesday's American Idol over at TVGasm. Check it out if you've got 3 hours to spare.

Love,

Top Medical Stories

A North Carolina doctor is accused of performing the wrong surgery on over 50 patients. I don't understand what all the hubbub is about... I think this guy looks great.




Australian researchers have invented a testosterone spray for women who have low sex drives. The spray works two-fold: Not only does a woman's libido increase, but it also makes her more physically appealing to the opposite sex.




Doctor's suggust that children should stay off of fruit juices, even the natural kinds, do to rising obesity rates and tooth decay. But you know me... always suspicious of what "doctors" have to "say."




And finally, the freakiest thing I've seen in a long time that I'm too weak/scared to post directly on here.

What's the Big Ikea?

It's not bullshit. A picture of the Ikea madness.

Nine ambulances had to be sent to the opening of the biggest Ikea store in England, after greedy Swede-o-philes trampled one another to get their mitts on shoddily assembled cardboard desks. A clip of the madness:

Video footage showed shoppers fighting over furniture - one man was pinned against a wall by a burly customer as they argued over a sofa - while others were stretchered into ambulances.

But hey, remember, this is a country full of toothless incomprehensibles who eat meat pie, so nothing should surprise you.



(By the by, Brits, it's my lifelong goal to live in England, so relax... anyone looking for a wife? Anyone? No? Wife? ... Anyone? No? Wife? My obsession with Little Britain should prove I'm the real thing.)

Note to Americans: Go on Ebay right now, and purcahse a 2 DVD set of the show from a couple of sellers who burn the discs themselves, hence they're Region 1 playable. (The normal UK Region 2 DVD's don't work in our machines). It's only like 18 bucks with shipping, and I guarantee it's one of the funniest things you'll ever see.


p.s. I'm Gow-geous.

Royal Wedding Bells

Britain's Prince Charles to Marry Camilla Parker Bowles

Here's a picture of the happy couple:


Congratulations, you two. Let's hope your kids don't turn out to be handsome, cunning horse-Nazis.

The Most Fun I've Had All Morning

Google Maps.

Zoom in, Zoom Out. Move it all around. It never gets old. Do a location search in your area, and watch brain juice come out of your assh*le.

And if anyone at work asks what you're doing, say you're just trying to figure out directions to your Gambler's Anonymous meeting later today. Betcha $5 they leave you alone.

Old McDonald Had a Digital Camera

E.I.Dear.God.Noooooo.

Here's the hyperlink that will appear in my online suicide note, and the images that will appear in my nightmares exclusively until the next Quizno's commercial:

http://www.livejournal.com/users/miss_mcdonald/

It's the online journal of Miss McDonald. Who, you say? Check it out. [via Screenhead]


Because I can't bear to look at her face.

Kittens Are All I Got... or Are They?

Has anyone ever tried to sell you that horseshit that you can chew Trident gum with the wrapper on? Let me tell you, it doesn't work. It's like putting a tampon in without taking the wrapper off, i.e. painful and useless. Trident in general is like chewing a contraceptive sponge. Or so they tell me. (p.s. Check out Gawker's Blind items: A couple of mine made it in, although I won't specify which. You can probably tell by it's brashness.)

Thankfully, my day hasn't gotten any better. So, in an effort to brighten my day up, I Google Image Searched the word "cute." Here are the highlights. It barely worked on me and my leaden heart.















There were also a lot of babies, but that whole "promising future" thing makes me want to puke.