Funny Strange is Lori Culwell's blog.

Locked Up Abroad, for Being a Bonehead

Listen, I know I am a website expert and all, but don't bother telling me that my blog has formatting problems, because it's on TYPEPAD and TYPEPAD IS WEIRD and yet I can't fix it because it's five years old and the links are so entrenched in the search engines that I would have to redirect every single one of them by hand if I switched over to the Wordpress backend I would like to switch over to, so that's just not happening.  I barely even have time to transfer the posts from the notebook, ok?   A whole platform switch with a bunch of reformatting?  Not going to happen.  So, get used to the big type/ small type/ entries being repeated problem, because in fact, the cobblers children have no shoes.

So-- the other day I was watching an episode of that show "Locked Up Abroad," even though I swore to myself that I would never do that, because YIKES.  I am always a nervous-type traveler anyway, like I'm going to be at a bazaar in a foreign country, and I'll be buying some beads or a stylish knick-knack, and suddenly I'll be in the slammer with no recourse because the beads actually had cocaine on them or something, or those were the sacred beads of their leader and I bought them without knowing, and then the joke will be on me.  Actually, I kind of always think this is going to happen, whether I'm traveling or not.

Right now, my husband is shaking his head like "Do you see the crazy I have to live with?"  Yes, this is his life.  

Anyhow, Locked Up Abroad-- not at ALL what I thought.  Turns out, it should be called "Locked Up for Being a Bonehead," because the guy they interviewed was caught trying to smuggle 2,400 grams of cocaine out of ECUADOR.  Yes, yes, it involved a nefarious scheme and a hotel room and his having to just take a bag of something to the airport for a local stranger, but COME ON.  If you are in Ecuador, and someone talks to you about a situation involving drugs, seriously-- RUN TO THE EMBASSY, because you are going to end up on Locked Up Abroad.  This is not going to work out for you, ok?  And then what happened to this guy will happen to you-- namely, you will go to prison, IN ECUADOR, for being a bonehead.   And they're interviewing the guy, and I'm thinking "how did you even get to Ecuador?  You are a bonehead."  He's in ECUADORIAN PRISON for three years, and God only knows what kinds of inhumane things happened to him there, and they finally let him out and he's back in the United States being interviewed for this show, and do you know what he's been doing since he got out?

He's been trying to stay sober, that's what.  Because the typical "touch a hot plate and get burned" teaching method didn't work on him (getting burned being the "going to prison in Ecuador" part of the story), he KEPT DOING DRUGS when he got out.     And, I don't even care if he's trying to dull the memories of what happened to him in Ecuadorian prison by taking drugs now, because guess what?  If I got caught with 2,400 grams of coke and then went to prison in Ecuador, YOU COULDN'T PAY ME TO TOUCH ANOTHER DRUG.   Why aren't the drugs giving him prison flashbacks?  WHY?

Because he's a bonehead, that's why.  And now I'm writing about him. 

Heidi Montag: What the what?

 So, oh my God, did you see the People Magazine this week with Heidi Montag and all the plastic surgery?  It is so disturbing, I barely know where to begin.   Of course I had to buy it, just because I was grossly fascinated, even though yes, I know, when we contribute to Spiedi, we all lose.  But-- wow.  For one thing, she ADMITS that she's addicted to plastic surgery, but she's not really admitting it, because she's, like, totally going to get more, you know?  It's part of her career, you know?  Never mind that she looks like a completely different, freaky person.

I have the following questions about this:

1.  What on earth is a doctor thinking, operating that much on a 23 year old?  That does not seem safe, I don't care what they say.   Huge boobs and a brow lift?  Now I think I might just have seen everything.

2.  She told her family she was sick over the Christmas holiday, and nobody went to her house?   What the what?    Would they have come in, like, "oh my God Heidi-- what happened to your boobs?"

3.  Speaking of her boobs, she says that DDD was the biggest they could make her them right then, but she's for sure going back for more.  Seriously, shouldn't there be a law?   This is turning into Michael Jackson all over again, only without the talent.  I'm just scared.  She is just about to have the worst backache in the history of the world, and I am going to laugh.

4.   Why is People Magazine covering this?  I'm not sure I'm really able to correctly understand their angle.  They know that she's doing this for publicity, and that even the mitigating headline "ADDICTED TO PLASTIC SURGERY" doesn't really negate the fact that they have validated this choice by putting her on the cover of their magazine. 

5.  Have we learned nothing from Brittany Murphy?   I'm not even being tongue in cheek about that one.  This just seems like another pretty young girl who was driven to insanity and self destruction by the Hollywood machine.  Yiiiikes!

By the way, on a totally irrelevant note, we are still on the Hoarders-inspired "Operation Throw Everything Out," and we're now up to three carloads of stuff to charity and over ten trashbags full of shredded paper.  Yay! 

This Just In: It’s Raining in Los Angeles. Get Off the Road!

Yesterday the first rain drop descended from the sky (after all, it IS fall), and just like that, a rash of traffic accidents began in Los Angeles.   Oh, did you not know this fun fact?  NO ONE IN L.A. KNOWS HOW TO DRIVE IN THE RAIN.  For some reason, the moment the streets are wet, it’s like a signal for everyone to crash into each other. 

This is no lie—on the news last night (as we were flipping from “The Daily Show” to a DVR’d version of “Bored to Death,” just to emphasize that we don’t actually sit around watching the news), they were reporting that since the rain started, there had been 725 additional traffic accidents around the Los Angeles area.   

So, it’s not racist, or sexist, or city-ist, or whatever you might want to call it.  Drivers in Los Angeles really ARE stupid when it rains.  I’m not exactly why this is, aside from the possibility that your brain just gets lazy from all the nice weather, and when there’s an actual reason to be careful, the brain is all “wait a second, I can’t switch gears that fast, man”—and then you’ve rear-ended someone because the slight change in temperature and weather condition has caused you to lose your head and slam on your brakes for no reason.  Look out!  Water falling from the sky!

I happen to like the rain (I know, Brandi, I am the only one), and I am a conservative driver anyway, so I don’t have this problem, but I will tell you it took me a whole hour to get to Costco last night, during which time I witnessed two rain-related accidents where the people involved in them kind of just sighed and pulled over like “Yeah……what are you gonna do?”

Depeche Mode, the SNIFTER, and....what else have you been up to?

First off, Stephan had a great birthday-- thank you for asking.  He got some awesome gifts like a wonderful bottle of wine and new iPhone, and he has been talking about how awesome the phone every day since then, which I think is the hallmark of a good birthday present, don't you?   Also, we went to see Depeche Mode at the Hollywood Bowl last night, and if there is anything wrong with Dave Gahan (like cancer, or a torn calf muscle, or a strained voice) you would never have known it, because that show was AWESOME!   Here is a blurry picture that I took with my Blackberry, which doesn't even begin to approximate how cool the concert (and accompanying mixed-media/ light presentation) was.  Extra special thanks to Brandi for getting the tickets and bringing the brownies!  Meanwhile, I have been working and working and WORKING, managing several client-related IT implosions, and preparing our place to become a rental property so we can move.  You know, building up the empire, brick by brick.

But that's not what has been on my mind lately, or the usual topic of this blog.  The topic is "weird stuff that I notice that might make you laugh," so I'm going to throw this question out:

Why do people get personalized license plates?  Why?  WHY?

I have wondered this for some time, actually.   Many people in my hometown of Palm Desert have these types of "vanity plates," and the very first time I saw one that said "DRBOB" or something like that, I was like "um..... doesn't that make it easier for the police to catch you breaking the law?"  Because even then, in my mind I pondered the fact that if you were a cop, and you saw two people speeding, and DRBOB was one of them... you're probably going to go with DRBOB, right, because it's easier to remember.   Am I wrong about this?  I remember thinking this for the first time when I was eleven.

Like I said, I don't know why I think this way, or why I have always thought this way.   I did get some concurrence the other day from my new Danish friend Pernille, who said during lunch last week "I don't understand why someone would want PEANUT1 on their car.  Why chooses to be PEANUT1?"  After that lunch I took the dog for his walk and noticed a guy with a giant Jeep who had the license plate SNIFTER, which lead me on a whole different tangent.  Um, there are special forms you have to fill out for the personalization, right?  And fees you have to pay?   And a waiting period, during which your fingers are crossed and you're hoping that you get to be the SNIFTER guy?    Why?  Just....WHY?  The absurdity of this made me laugh.  Mostly it was the forms that got me.  The guy, at the DMV, with the forms, and the SNIFTER.  

Again, I don't get it.  Here's another one.  This guy has a Maserati, which he's parking in the street by my house (just to show that he's so rich, he's so totally over having a Maserati that he doesn't even have to worry about where he parks it, because he's soooooo L.A.), and he's got this stupid license plate on it.    What is this supposed to mean?  If you go to the trouble of acquiring the vanity license plate, doesn't it stand to reason that at least I should KNOW WHAT IT MEANS? SNIFTER even wins over this guy.  Seriously-- what is this supposed to be?

Here's a whole blog post (of someone else's) dedicated to funny photos of vanity license plates, including "IDIOT" and "CARSICK."    To me this is a slam dunk-- if you're a cop and you see the IDIOT guy, just go ahead and arrest him, because you already know he makes a lot of bad decisions, you know what I'm saying?  

The Michael Jackson Murder Conspiracy, or "Michael Jackson is even weird when he's dead"

First of all-- how about that interesting Google Ads experiment?  I was totally surprised to find that Google Ads obviously has some kind of filter on it, because even Rachel's "strong themes" filled guest-post couldn't make it give us an ad for, say, a sexually transmitted diseases clinic or a place to buy a Massengil Disposable Douche.  Final score = Google Ads 1, Humans 0. 

So, now LaToya Jackson is talking about how there was a conspiracy to murder Michael Jackson for his publishing catalog (in case you aren't up on this, in addition to being an eccentric person, Michael Jackson apparently also had enough business acumen to purchase a large portion of the publishing rights to about half of the Beatles' catalog, which is certain to be a producer of a large amount of passive income ad infinitum). 

It does stand to reason that without Michael Jackson's substantial monthly outlay of expenses (for drugs, and nannies, and face bleaching crean, and monkeys, and God knows what else), this income could be amassed into a billion-dollar fortune for whoever holds the keys to the kingdom.  But-- isn't Katherine Jackson (Michael's mother) the trustee, along with the children and some charities?  I don't know why I am attempting to apply regular logic here, but wouldn't the eponymous "they" of conspriacy theory lore only benefit in murdering Michael Jackson if "they" were beneficiares of the trust?  By this logic,  this supposed murder would have to have been engineered by the Jackson family....and they are the ones crying "conspiracy" in the first place.

Don't get me wrong-- I'm not saying Michael Jackson's own family murdered him, not at all.  I'm sure it's an incredibly painful time for them.  I just think it's weird that LaToya is now on the record with a conspiracy theory, when there's no third-party beneficiary, no Da Vinci code, no 2012, no CIA connection, no actual evidence to prove motive, and a ton of supporting reports that Michael Jackson had a terrible drug problem that ended up killing him.   Frankly, I'm also kind of disappointed-- I mean, we knew there was going to be some kind of Michael Jackson Death Weirdness, but this is it?  

I'm going to throw this new conspiracy theory into the mix:  "Blanket" Jackson, the youngest of the three children (who are probably not biologically related to Michael Jackson, which just adds another layer of weirdness to the mix) is a rarely-seen, genius seven year old who noticed that his eccentric father was spending all of his inheritence on weirdness.   In the style of "Stewie" from "Family Guy," "Blanket" plotted with one of the still-unnamed charities that make up the remaining 30% of the Michael Jackson Trust to eliminate Michael Jackson so that his estate's assets could start to build back up.  Eleven years from now, when he's 18, he assumes control not only of his portion of the Michael Jackson Trust, but also takes the reigns of one of the charitable organizations.  He also changes his name to something like "John Smith," so no one ever knows his true identity. 

Thoughts?    I think this one is better than "someone who is not even going to benefit murdered him for no good reason."  Oh, also-- I just read this article where apparently Joe Jackson is trying to get the little kids to tour as "The Jackson Three."  Because that whole "Jackson Five" thing worked out so well and totally didn't mess anyone up forever, right?

Watch, Blanket is going to take out Joe Jackson now too. 

My washing machine is broken, and other totally interesting things.

So, about two weeks ago (while I was in the middle of the Busiest Two Months Ever) my washing machine started making this grinding noise that, being an expert washing machine person, I quickly diagnosed as "NOT GOOD."  Of course this is a great time for it to break, because it's been two years since I bought it, and that is just about how long I expected a super-specialized, high efficiency, "is the only one that will fit in the space provided" washing machine to function properly without me having to call in some kind of super-specialized repairman from Mars to repair it.  Just, of course.

Oh, do I sound sarcastic when it comes to appliances and other things not working?  Perhaps that's a side effect of being on the co-op board, where we're always fixing something, or getting someone help to fix something, or voting on how something needs to be fixed.  Of course, on the other hand, this is one of the sort of cool things about being a homeowner.  At least it's my stuff to fix, after all!

I called the place where I got the washer, and since it has been more than a year, they were like "call the warrantee place," and lucky thing I paid for the extended warrantee, because you know they tried to hassle me until I had to yell and insist they send a repairman, because no, unplugging it was just not going to cut it.  They finally agreed to send someone, but it absolutely had to be last Tuesday, which happened to be the day I was coming back after being out of town for four days, and I had two conference calls I was already doing while I was driving back, and they gave me a 1:00 - 5:00pm window that was totally non-negotiable, since they were coming from Mars and all.

I'm sure you know what I'm going to say next, which is that the guy showed up EXACTLY at 1:00, and I would have been home except I was stuck in a giant, inexplicable traffic jam on the 405 going north from San Diego, and I was almost out of gas, and I was tired, and my grumpiness factor was at about a million, but I convinced the guy to stay at my house, and he was crabby, and I was crabby, and when he got out of his van I noticed how small he was, and I determined there was no way this small, surly man was going to be able to pull out my stacked washer and fix it.   Only that didn't matter, because when he saw my super-specialized washer, he clucked his tongue and said "This is not a very popular brand," and I was like "Look, how is that productive?  It's the ONE I HAVE," and he said he had to order parts and make me another appointment, and I tried not to cry from frustration from rushing, and from the general tiredness and backlog of work and things that break and the fact that the small surly man was giving me a lecture on my washer choices instead of actual service.  

I was too tired, though, so I was like "Fine, whatever.  Come back whenever you want," and he ordered every part he thought could possibly be broken and made me (this is not a joke) an appointment for Thursday the 9th, FROM 8AM to 5PM, and told me that I should plan to really be here the whole time, because he was bringing another guy and some parts, and if I wasn't here, this time they weren't staying.    The whole time, I stared at him like he actually was from Mars, waiting for him to laugh and say he was joking, but he didn't.  NINE HOURS.  For a broken washer.  For real. 

I guess the bottom line for me is, if you have a small space in which you're trying to fit a stacked washer/ dryer, and the choice is between remodeling your kitchen and getting the only one that will fit in the space that happens to be a Whirlpool H/E washer, I would go for the total kitchen remodel, because it might end up being easier and more cost-effective.  Oh, and if you need to call me?  I think you should totally do it on Thursday the 9th, because I will be around.

By the way....

Is everyone following this saga, of the girl who got too many stars tattooed on her face?   If not, let me catch you up.   A couple of weeks ago, this Belgian girl claims she went to a tattoo artist to get three stars tattooed on her face, fell asleep during the tattooing, and woke up with 56 facial stars.

My first thought when I originally heard this was that this story smacked of lies and regret, and was made even further specious by the fact that she admitted she went to the tattoo guy to get THREE STARS TATTOOED ON HER FACE.

I don't know if you'll go with me on this-- I'm all for freedom of speech and expression, but I think the minute you want tattoos on your face, you should be subject to a mandatory psych evaluation, and that they should have to sign off.   Because, um, if you tattoo your face, you are pretty much deciding once and for all that you are done being taken seriously in life, and if you're eighteen, maybe someone who is eighty and has face tattoos should come and talk to you about what kind of life they've had before you go through with it.

So, ok, she then claims that she "nodded off" during the procedure, and was horrified when she woke up and found that the guy had done not only the three stars she asked for, but 53 more as well.   This is even more crazy:  did any of you ever GET a tattoo?  I did, and then I didn't like it, so I had it removed.  I am hard-pressed to say which one hurt more, but let's just say that you're not going to sleep during either of those procedures.  No way.  NO WAY!

I was surprised that this case actually went as far as it did because this story was so obviously a lie.  Combine the diminshed credibility of the girl with witnesses and the glaring question of why a tattoo artist would do MORE work rather than less, and I would've thought this was an open and shut case. 
To further add to the "she's crazy, immature, and kind of stupid" story, she gets totally busted while she's being interviewed about this travesty by a Dutch TV station.  They tell her the cameras are off, so she just goes ahead and admits that she made the whole thing up.   So, I guess we now have more evidence to further gauge her intelligence level. 

So, like I said, I'm surprised it even went this far, although I have to admit she does look pretty crazy, so I guess that makes for a good news story.  Also, even though he is only shown for a moment, please make special note of the tattoo artist, who is just about the scariest-looking person I have ever seen. 

Oh, I'm sorry. Were you finished? Well, allow me to retort!

Sometimes people leave comments on this site, and they make me laugh, because a) what are you doing here if you don't like me? and b) based on what I've already written here, is it not clear that I'm going to make fun of you if you say something bad about me and you say it in a way that makes you sound stupid?  Because dude, if you come here, read some stuff, and then leave a comment with bad grammar and weird words, I'm sorry.  Game.  On.

 

With that in mind, I will draw your attention to this GEM of a comment I received the other day, in response to that post about how absolutely everything is bad for you now, how everything you're doing is wrong, and how the minute you try to change something, some hippie jumps out of the woodwork to say "Oh, oh my GOD, NO!  That's even WORSE!" until literally, you want to take a bite of rare steak right in front of them, then squirt them with DEET-laden insect repellent.  By the way, I would just like to mention that I got alot of positive feedback on that post as well, indicating that many of you have similar feelings.  So, thanks for that.

 

So, here's the comment.  I am leaving off the person's email address, because that would just be rude. 

"The Hilarious Thing about Broadcasting and advertising is that it is RIPE for the picking.
Do you just mention Tom's of Maine and mouthwash just to make them show up in the GOOGLE ADS that run next to your column or were you just BORN TO create Irony while making straight fun of those selling advertising.
Not the first time you have done this Lori.
Oh no it's not!"

First, let's notice the Totally Strange and somewhat Random Capitalization method that this person is employing.  This is Weird, and I'm not sure I'm Getting Your point, sir or ma'am.  Did you mean RIFE with irony, or RIPE for the picking of that irony?  Because I was Distracted by the capitalization, Further clarification will be Needed to illustrate the Meaning of your opinion.

To answer the question at hand, though, you are correct, oh Strange Capitalizer.  Indeed, Broadcasting and advertising ARE both ripe for the picking and rife with opportunities for mockery, which is why I sometimes deconstruct them for strategic comical purposes on this blog.  And, contrary to perhaps popular belief, I do not control the internet, so I am not in charge of what GOOGLE ADS are served up.  So, it could happen that Ironically, I am writing something about how Tom's of Maine mouthwash probably tastes like patchouli, and because it's based on an algorithm, the Google Ads robot would run an ad next to that post that links you over to buy some Tom's of Maine products, BECAUSE THE WORDS ARE SIMILAR and that's how the robot works.  Of course, we would all agree that after reading the words "Tom's of Maine mouthwash probably tastes like patchouli," you would be statistically less likely to purchase that product, but that is not really my problem.  Hey, maybe you LOVE the taste of patchouli, what the hell do I know?  This would also hold true for Latisse, the eyelash-regrowing product that I called "insane and irrational," and yet which ALSO generated an ad next to the post.  Again, maybe you don't CARE if I think it's insane and irrational to change your eye color just to regrow your eyelashes, and maybe after reading that post you decided that Latisse was for you, and you're painting it on your thin and sparse lashes even as we speak.

Further, I"m not sure what is meant by "were you just BORN TO create Irony while making straight fun of those selling advertising."

Is this a question?  Clearly I was BORN TO create Irony, and to make words, which is why I have been and continue to be employed as a writer OF BOOKS AND WEBSITES, and even of some words for ADVERTISING.   

I also really like that they've pointed out that this is not the first time I've done this, and added my name and "Oh no it's not!" as if they were my dad, and I stole their car and went to a party and came back after curfew smelling like wine coolers.  "Lori!  Continued repeated mentions of Ironic ADVERTISING references will result in grounding!  Oh yes they will!

So, in closing, please feel free to leave all the comments you want, and I will in turn feel free to censor you by erasing your comments, then turning them into blog posts.  Because, please remember that when I mocked Mischa Barton for being a bad actress (because MISCHA BARTON IS A BAD ACTRESS), not only did I get a bunch of weird comments, but I got smack-talked in a Mischa Barton chat room.  Further, being a writer requires that not only are you immune to the disparaging and sometimes ridiculous comments of people who don't like you, but that you develop a certain eye for those that deserve to be recognized and even highlighted, with a whole post of their own. 

In closing, I will say that I am no stranger to the mockery, and I (and my readers) take great pleasure in returning the ball, should you Choose to THROW IT OUT in such a funny way, RIFE with grammatical errors and RIPE for the re-mocking.  I guarantee that I am not even the most sarcastic of my group of friends and readers.  Oh yes I do!

This Just In: Billy Bob Thornton is an Ingrate.

 I've been busy doing publicity for my two books that are coming out on May 5th, so I apologize I haven't been posting very much over here.  By "publicity," I of course mean radio shows, arranging giveaways and doing interviews, coordinating book signings, and stuff like that.   Maybe it's just me, but I still feel so incredibly lucky that people like reading what I write, and that I have two publishers for two books that doing publicity is absolutely no problem at all.  Of any kind.  No matter what.  In fact, someone asked me during an interview the other day if I mind if my novel is called "chick lit," and I'm like "HELL NO-- call it whatever you want, as long as you buy it and read it."   Because dude, I don't even want to tell you how hard it was to get here.    Or maybe I will tell you, if you want to use it as publicity.   Let's just say it involved alot of writing, and alot of crying. 

Maybe that's why Billy Bob Thornton's recent antics have rubbed me the wrong way so much.  Have you been following this whole thing?  I keep meaning to mention it, then I forget, and then it makes the news again and I am once again reminded of what an incredible douchebag Billy Bob Thorton is, and how he has forgotten all about the "crying" phase of his career where he couldn't get anyone interested in him, and when no one would return his phonecalls, and how he lived in his car (or whatever, I don't know his story).  So, if you’re just joining us now, here’s a recap:

April 8^th:  BBT, on tour with his band the Boxcutters, goes on a Canadian radio show, where his “people” instruct the host not to mention the fact that he’s an Academy Award winning screenwriter and actor.  Because right, a 48 year old drummer in a random band is really going to be able to get publicity for himself and his band based totally on his music.  When the radio host does what any reasonable person would do and tries to ask Thorton how his MUSIC CONNECTS TO HIS CAREER, he totally stonewalls and starts talking about how he built a monster from a kit when he was a kid, and how he doesn’t know Willie Nelson even though he’s out on tour with him, and then he makes some weird references that basically compare all Canadians to bland gravy, and then when the radio host actually asks his band to play music, he acts all offended and condescending and says that he’s not going to play since he’s the drummer and they don’t cart the drum kit around at 6:30 in the morning, which basically says to me that the whole reason his bandmates brought him with for the interview was because he’s BILLY BOB THORTON AND PEOPLE WANT TO KNOW WHAT HE’S DOING.

Here’s that interview, in case you didn’t see it.  It really starts to get uncomfortable around…well, the whole thing is kind of sucky, actually.  If this doesn't make you totally despise Billy Bob Thornton, who in case you've forgotton, IS THAT GUY FROM SLINGBLADE, I don't know what will:  http://www.youtube.com/qtv

Bottom line:  Billy Bob Thorton needs to get right over himself.    He obviously has an incredible sense of entitlement and has lost any sort of connection with the struggles of real artists and how grateful we should all be if our work gets even a shred of attention, for any reason.  Every moment of this interview makes me want to punch him in the face. 

OK, then word gets out that BBT is such a jerk, and Canadian audiences start to boo him at his concerts, and instead of just manning up and apologizing for acting like an a-hole, he cancels the rest of his band’s Canadian appearances, claiming that his whole band and crew have the flu.  So, nice.  Now you’re upset because someone called you a SUCCESSFUL ACTOR and you threw a tantrum, and some Canadians called you on it, and you’re running away instead of facing the music (no.  pun.  Intended) and causing your bandmates (and crew) to miss out on paying gigs.  Dude, again, you’re a drummer in a band that would be totally unknown without your fame.  Give up the attitude.  Give it up!

Then I forget about it for a little while and stop wanting to put my high-heeled shoe in his ass for being so ungrateful, and THEN he goes on Jimmy Kimmel Live (which, um, he couldn’t even do if he wasn’t BILLY BOB THORNTON, THE GUY FROM SLING BLADE)  to say that he’s ASTOUNDED that this is news, but that he’s glad it gives “humpback geeks” something to do.  Notice that he knows better than to correct Jimmy Kimmel for calling him an “Academy Award Winning Actor.”   Go figure.   

This sends me over the edge into a Culwelll-sponsored episode of “REALLY?  With Billy Bob Thornton.”  That goes like this:

Billy Bob Thornton.  REALLY?  You’re a 48 year old drummer on a promotional tour that you’re only on because you’re an actor, and then you command a radio host not to mention the very reason people know you, then people get upset, and you’re surprised that this is news?  REALLY?  Have you not noticed the economy falling down around us?  You are fortunate enough to have one career everyone in the world wants, you’re married six times (one of them to ANGELINA JOLIE), you’re a multimillionaire, you’ve won an Academy Award, all despite a marginal amount of education and a total lack of handsomeness.  THEN you feel like switching careers mid-stream, and by some MIRACLE you are granted a record deal and start living YET ANOTHER DREAM JOB of so many, and then you act like an absolute, entitled a-hole to a poor hardworking radio host.  Then you are SURPRISED that people are upset?  REALLY.    Let me make it clear for you:   YOU LOOK LIKE YOU SHOULD BE WORKING IN A TIRE STORE IN ARKANSAS.  You were deserving of our love in Slingblade, but if you keep going like this, we are going to take our love away.  You are so lucky to be where you are, you literally should be living inside a bubble of gratitude that makes you bake a cake for everyone who even wants to consider you in your role as “musician.”  You are an embarrassment to hard-working, big-dreaming artists everywhere, and you are making all of us look bad, and we want you to go away.

Get over yourself, Billy Bob Thornton.  Don’t make me smack you.  I couldn't care less if you're weird and skinny and afraid of food and antiques. 

Hilarious and disturbing, all at once...

 

Last night Stephan and I were wiped out by the heatwave and too tired to work and we had (amazingly) already caught up on everything in the DVR, so we toggled between an episode of "Whose Line" which is an awesome show that I think you should definitely start watching right now just to see how brilliant Wayne Brady is at improv, and this completely disturbing show on TLC called "I Didn't Know I Was Pregnant."   And, just in case your trigger-finger is itching to tell me just how long that sentence was, I want you to know that I know, and that I wrote it that way on purpose. 

Back to "I Didn't Know I Was Pregnant." I'm sure you can imagine the prurient horror and fascination with which I watched this show, since I am still on the fence about the whole children issue.   This show is actually hilarious and disturbing at the same time, so much so that it almost fell into the realm of a German absurdist film, or an old Saturday Night Live sketch of "Sprockets."    Part of this effect is achieved by the totally horrible reenactments, and how the people in these reenactments look almost nothing like the actual people involved in the "Unknown Birth" scenarios, and how the acting is bad, and the lighting is bad, and the whole thing looks like a locally-filmed ad for Massengil disposal douce-- right up to the moment when you're back from the commercial break, and the actress portraying the unsuspecting pregnant woman starts having a baby.....in the bathroom of the chicken store where she works, or in the bathroom of the campground (don't even get me started on the germs involved there), or on her neighbor's front lawn.    Yeah, these were all real scenarios, and each and every time you're like "Really?  An eight pound baby, and you had no idea?  REALLY????"

 

And, to answer your next question, no--   most of them weren't heavy to the point where they wouldn't notice an eight pound baby just hanging out up in there, but for the record, I have some zaftig friends, and every single one of them felt every moment of their pregnancies.  In fact, everyone I know who has EVER been pregnant has had at least one symptom, and even after watching this whole show, I am still beyond baffled by this phenomenon, although I feel it is fair to add that NONE of the subjects interviewed during this particular program looked like they belonged in MENSA, if you know what I mean.  But-- to not even know you're pregnant until you're on the front lawn and the baby is coming out?  That is not right.    Also, how weird is it to have to take that "complete surprise" baby home with you, when you had no cotton-pickin idea you were even pregnant?   Like, one day you're minding your own business, and then this baby just sneaks up on you like that?  It's almost.....rude. 

 

Also, in case you're following the story of "I wrote two books and they're both coming out on May 5th," you can now pre-order my website book (Million Dollar Website is the title), and I did a radio interview about that book this morning that is set to air this weekend (I will put up that link on Friday), and I finally scanned the "Marie Claire Pop Culture Pyramid," so you can see my book right next to Jennifer Garner's new movie.  Sweet!