Friday, February 26, 2010

Cheaters and liars and addicts, oh my!

Fergie, of Black Eyed Peas fame, and her husband, actor Josh Duhamel, recently renewed their wedding vows after less than a year of marriage. Um, is that to remind yourself that you are indeed married? In case you forget? 

Apparently, Josh blanks out every now and then since Nicole Forrester, a stripper, claimed last November that she had an affair with him while he was shooting Life As We Know It in Atlanta. 

Looks like Matthew Fox may need a reminder as well. This just in: stripper Stefani Talbott is claiming she and Matthew slept together on more than one occasion. Click here for more on this. 

I'm beginning to see a theme here. Marriage amnesia and strippers. Josh denied Nicole's claims and he and Fergie have presented a united front to the public. Matthew's peeps are also denying any wrongdoing on his part.

Who's to say what really happened? Maybe the boys are innocent. Maybe not. But renewing wedding vows after less than twelve months? This strikes me as a little desperate, as in desperately trying to stay married. 

Two people who should probably not stay married are Charlie Sheen and Brooke Mueller. Not only is Brooke in rehab, Charlie is too, for cocaine and alcohol abuse. This explains the Christmas Day debacle. A couple with two infant sons, engaged in a drug-fueled binge that ends with an arrest. It has the makings of a true Christmas classic.

Two addicts don't make a right. I'm sensing toxic relationship here. I hope someone's looking after those twin boys since their parents are obviously out of commission. 

I guess Charlie Sheen's publicist was right when he commented on the Sheen/Mueller holiday fiasco: "Do not be mislead by appearance. Appearance and reality can be as different as night and day. It would benefit everyone not to jump to any conclusion."

I'm the first to admit when I'm wrong. I assumed Charlie was the raging lunatic and Brooke the innocent victim. I was wrong. Charlie AND Brooke are both raging lunatics. The lesson here: take heed of publicists' remarks. They're usually covering up an even bigger scandal than the one they're trying to clean up.

Thursday, February 25, 2010

Reproductive criminal considers offending again

Apparently, Octomom Nadya Suleman hasn't ruled out having other children in the future. To which I say: Wahhhhh? Click here for the full article. 

Nadya is a single mom with 14 children and is on public assistance. She should be sterilized. There are some instances when the government should step in to prevent the propagation of reproductive atrocities, such as this one.

There are so many levels of wrong in this article, I'm not sure where to begin. How about with the fact that all her children were conceived via in vitro fertilization. Um, how can someone on welfare afford expensive reproductive procedures? This is a mystery to me. Are they doing it for free now? Or offering bargain basement prices? 

Is there not a screening process when someone walks into a fertility clinic? Shouldn't some basic requirements be met before being permitted to embark on a reproductive quest, like having a job? Or are these clinics so focused on their bottom line, they don't care who they knock up or what kind of environment these children will be raised in?

Like Kate Gosselin before her, Nadya is resorting to fame whoring to support her children, stating that she's "looking into various opportunities" of employment, like writing a book. 

What makes this woman an author? Her blatant irresponsibility and bulging brood? Again, I ask: who publishes these people? Or better yet, why is there even a market for this?  Sensationalism of this kind belongs in gossip rags, not in books.

Nadya says she will only have one more child, if she gets married someday. I'm guessing she was trying to have only one when oops! she ended up with eight. You do the math. Someone stop this woman. She's a menace to society.

Wednesday, February 24, 2010

Parental Parting

My dearest Sassies, the gossip is on hold today. Early this morning, my boyfriend's father passed away. In honour of this dear man, I'm posting one of my favorite poems:  

I Did Not Die 

Do not stand at my grave and weep.
I am not there. I do not sleep.
I am a thousand winds that blow;
I am the diamond glints on snow.
I am the sunlight on ripened grain;
I am the gentle Autumn's rain.

When you awaken in the morning's hush.
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight.
I am the soft star that shines at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry.
I am not there;
I did not die.

- Anon -

Tuesday, February 23, 2010

BAFTA Blunders

It is my assumption, and perhaps mistakenly so, that the British, in general, have taste. Following the awarding of the latest BAFTA film awards, I'm beginning to have my doubts about this long-held belief. 

The Hurt Locker won the award for Best Film, Director, and Original Screenplay. It won more awards but it pains me just to list those. My regular readers know how I feel about this movie. For those of you who are new to this blog, click here to get caught up. 

I have, in the past, disagreed somewhat with movie critics over minor details. A "you say potato, I say po-tah-to" kind of thing. But never before have I thought movie critics and fans alike have completely lost their shit and swooned over a film of such questionable quality. 

To add insult to injury, Kristen Stewart won the Rising Star award. Huh? I haven't written about Kristen in a while. For a refresher, click here. Kristen's acting is about as interesting as watching paint peel. What about Anna Kendrick? Much more deserving and shows ample promise. She's nominated for an Oscar! Hello? 

I can't possibly explain these odd decisions. Are people blind? Dumb? Masochistic? And these are the British no less! Land of sharp wit and keen observation! I am sorely disappointed in such erroneous choices. This does not bode well for the Oscars.

Monday, February 22, 2010

Putrid Pulp

I was recently perusing the latest issue of Us Weekly, when I came across two very disturbing tidbits. While reading a short article on the latest tribulations of the Gosselin family, I read this passage: "For her part, Kate will be promoting her third book, I just want you to know (out April 13), in the spring."

Um, her THIRD book? Who publishes Kate Gosselin? This hurts me. These faux-authors pretending to be writers. What can she possibly have to say? Here's the story of how I wasn't satisfied with my husband and twin girls, decided I wanted another baby, underwent all sorts of crazy fertilization treatments 'cause it wasn't happening naturally, ended up with six more mouths to feed, couldn't afford it so we put the family on TV to pay the bills.  Yeah, real inspirational. 

Her latest book should be titled: "How to not f*ck up like I did and end up being a shameless fame whore." Instead, they went with this whitewashed title: I just want you to know: Letters to my kids on love, faith and family. Puke.

Then, a few pages further, I stumble upon this: "Lauren Conrad, 24, topped the New York Times' bestseller list with her second novel, Sweet Little Lies, a follow-up to her first literary foray, L.A. Candy." WTF?

First of all, the word literary should not be used to describe anything "written" by Lauren Conrad. How about her first foray in publishing? That would be more suitable. 

Secondly, how on earth does this type of useless drivel become a bestseller? I'm all for quality pulp but Lauren's work hardly qualifies as anything pertaining to actual "writing". 

Thirdly, to become a bestseller, one assumes vast numbers of people are reading the work in question. Who is reading this? Who has so much time on their hands, they're willing to sacrifice a few precious hours to read the works of Lauren Conrad? 

This disturbs me greatly. 

While checking my e-mail this morning, I got one from - a list of their picks of the 50 best books of the decade (2000-2009). Save yourself from heinous faux-literature by clicking here to view a list of books worthy of your free time.

Friday, February 19, 2010

The resurrection begins...

I was primed this morning. Opened up the CNN live feed and put on the headphones, waiting, at attention. Then, as the guest of honor walked up to the podium, I watched and listened intently, hanging on every word, every pregnant pause, every attempt to show emotion.

I've got to hand it to Tiger Woods and his team, they are PR masters. By the time he was hugging his mom, I was almost in tears. Mama looked mad during her son's mea culpa. You know she read him the riot act.

I had to watch the whole thing again. Brilliantly executed. Kudos to Tiggy for facing the music, even though it's been a long three months since we've heard from him. It's hard to reproach someone who, seemingly, is trying to come clean and start over.

However, when it comes to Tiger Woods, I can never be fully convinced of anything. As one media pundit stated regarding the banning of questions following his statement: "not even the President gets that". This was a tightly managed affair, à la CIA covert ops.

Following his statement was a reaction from one of his mistresses, Veronica Siwik-Daniels, a former porn star. Her main criticism was that she received no apology. Upon listening to Tiggy's statement a second time, I did notice the mistresses were notably absent from the list of those he rimed off to whom he wanted to apologize.

But it's difficult to sympathize with the mistresses. I mean, come on. You're dating a married man. He's already lying to someone to be with you. And you're pissed off he didn't tell you about his other mistresses? You thought you were the only one? Apart from his wife, that is. Please.

This girl apologized for her role in the scandal and stated that she didn't mean to cause any pain to Elin and the kids. To which I say: bullshit. You knew he was married. You knew he had kids. 

She was actually sloughing off some of the blame onto Tiger because he pursued her. Honey, don't pull that shit. He was MARRIED. When a married guy is trying to get into your pants, walk away. Shut that nasty business down.

She then goes on to say how she fell in love with him and that we can't help who we fall in love with. That may be true but we can help who we f*ck. No one forced her to remove her clothing and have sex with Tiger. I'm assuming that's the case since no one's charged Tiggy with rape. 

At this point, only time will tell if Tiggy changes his ways and becomes a better man. If there's anyone we should feel sympathy for, it's his wife Elin and his two children. Elin, for being the unknowing victim of deception, and the children, whose legacy is now marred by their father's indiscretions. 

Thursday, February 18, 2010

Defiling Oscar

On occasion, there are statements that are so preposterous, so improbable, they leave me in a state of disbelief, such as this one uttered by Jessica Simpson, in a recent interview with Allure magazine: "I will never do nudity... I don't care if I frickin' could get an Oscar for it, I'm not going to do it." 

Do you see what's wrong with this statement? Jessica Simpson and Oscar are two mutually exclusive things. They can never be thought of as going together, ever. EVER. 

Is Jessica so delusional as to think she has anywhere near the amount of talent it takes to win an Oscar? Bitch, please. As my boyfriend so aptly put it, the only reason anyone is remotely interested in Jessica is because of her physical endowments. The truth is, she ain't got much else to offer. 

Jessica is a faux celebrity, a fame whore. She has no discernible talent, and obviously lacks intellect. Her forays into acting so far have failed miserably because she can't act. Big mystery there. The only train Jessica's riding on is her good looks. Her dumb ass comments are only  entertaining because they're so freakin' moronic. 

Jessica also dated John Mayer, king of douchebaggery. Frankly, anyone who dates John Mayer is an idiot. Yes, that means you Jen. And you dated him after he dated Simpleminded Simpson. Was it not obvious? Hang your head in shame, girl! 

Jessica also claims the following: " I don't think people deserve to see what's under my clothing. That's only for my next husband--ha-ha-ha." Funny considering her latest claim to fame is having been douchebag's "sexual napalm".

Is there such a lack of interesting people out there that magazines have to resort to featuring vapid, pulchritudinous plebeians?

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

"Official" Sponsors of the Olympic Games

I'm noticing a funny thing during my Olympics viewing. Every product being advertised is claiming to be the "official" something or other of the Olympic Games. Purolator - the official delivery service; Chevrolet - the official car; Visa - the official credit card; Panasonic - the official television, etc... 

Of course, I'm aware these companies have paid big bucks for this type of visibility during the Games, and their dollars are key to running such a large scale event.

Considering there are thousands of athletes, not to mention media, organizers, spectators, volunteers, etc.. converging in one general area for 17 days, there are a few items which, although not particularly glamorous, may certainly be necessary. 

The companies listed below should seriously consider sponsoring future Olympic Games since they would be a veritable gold mine for these products.

Tampax - the official tampon (do female athletes still menstruate?)

Charmin - the official toilet paper (good for all, obviously)

Trojan - the official condom (for snowboarders and groupies)

K.Y - the official personal lubricant (for the lugers - faster, faster...)

Clearblue - the official pregnancy test (for all underage Chinese competitors)

Canesten - the official yeast infection treatment (yeast is for bread, not burgers)

Imodium - the official diarrhea treatment (for all athletes in judged events - we shit for you)

Preparation H - the official hemorrhoids cream (for Eastern European cross-country coaches)

Tuesday, February 16, 2010

Olympic Fever

I was one of the infidels, the non-believers. Leading up to the start of the Olympic Games, I had about as much enthusiasm as a bag of rusty nails. I was more concerned about The Bachelor being preempted due to Olympic coverage. Sad, yes. Depraved even. 

My boyfriend and I tried to watch the opening ceremonies on Friday night. We lasted about 20 minutes. Then we couldn't take it anymore. The cheese factor was too high. 

Although, we were informed afterwards that K.D. Lang's performance kicked ass and brought down the house. I believe it, and I'm sad I missed it. Of course, in this day and age, I can always YouTube it. 

My boyfriend mentioned that Robert Lepage should have directed the opening ceremonies. I enthusiastically concurred. Had it been in Lepage's hands, I suspect the show would have been truly unforgettable. Alas, it was not meant to be, and according to my informants, apart from a few choice moments, the opening ceremonies were a succession of Canadian clichés. Yawn.

Following our abandonment of the official start of the games, I was firmly entrenched in my anti-Olympic attitude, a rogue citizen. Then, it happened. On Saturday night, as we watched the women's moguls final. I caught the Olympic fever. I was glued to the TV, entranced by these superb athletes. 

I skied down a moguls run at Mont-Tremblant in Quebec a couple weeks ago, and I use the term "skied" loosely. What took these athletes less than 30 seconds to descend took me at least 30 minutes, minus the aerial acrobatics. Although I'm sure it was entertaining for any skiers who happened to be around me as I attempted to negotiate these numerous, tiny hills. 

Then on Sunday night, we witnessed Olympic history being made as Alexandre Bilodeau won the gold medal in the men's moguls final. The cobwebs were dusted off my dormant patriotism as we watched the event unfold until the very end when yes, indeed, the Canadian had won the gold. The first one on home soil EVER. We cheered, our hearts filled with glee.

Then it was on to figure skating, luge, biathlon, cross-country skiing... I got sucked in. There's no escaping now. The Olympics are like the Corleone family: "Just when I thought I was out, they pull me back in."

Friday, February 12, 2010

Tina Fey in March Vogue

My girl crush Tina Fey is on the cover of the March issue of Vogue. Tina, who describes herself as a "normal girl" is, in my view, anything but. She has that rare combination of intelligence, razor-sharp wit and good looks. The more I watch 30 Rock, the more I appreciate the depth of her talent. 

It's so refreshing to see someone as engaging and accomplished as Tina on a magazine cover. Enough with these vacuous Hollywood barbies who lack both talent and intellect and whose fame is highly tenuous. Tina has earned every bit of it. 

As a playwright focused mainly on satire, this gal is my hero. To write in the insightful way Tina does requires a brain. Something which seems severely lacking in the female celebrities shoved in our faces day in and day out. The Jessicas come to mind - Airheaded Alba, Blank Biel and Simpleminded Simpson. 

Here are a couple of my favorite tidbits from Tina's Vogue interview:

A friend of mine recently said this: "Her existence is such a relief." By which she meant that women of a certain age who are cool, funny, and smart but who are by no means fabulous—who are in fact befuddled by much of what passes for fabulous these days—are relieved to see Fey celebrated as such. When I share this with Fey, she says in the most sincere tone imaginable, "That is such a lovely thing to say." She thinks it over for only a second. "I feel like I represent normalcy in some way. What are your choices today in entertainment? People either represent youth, power, or sexuality. And then there's me, carrying normalcy." Pause. "Me and Rachael Ray.

We need more normal.

I think women dress for other women to let them know what their deal is. Because if women were only dressing for men, there would be nothing but Victoria's Secret. There would be no Dior.

Come on. You know she's right. Think of how much money we would save if we didn't care what other women thought of our wardrobe. Men, they don't care. As long as it comes off easily. 

Click here for the full interview. It's definitely worth a read.

I love you, Tina Fey.

Thursday, February 11, 2010

John Mayer's verbal diarrhea

Some people should stop talking... altogether. People like John Mayer. He elevates douchebaggery to a whole new level. Here are some excerpts from his latest interview, with Playboy magazine:

His dream is to write pornography: 

When I watch porn, if it's not hot enough, I'll make up backstories in my mind. My biggest dream is to write pornography.

He refers to Jessica Simpson as sexual napalm, as a drug he'd give up everything to snort:

That girl, for me, is a drug. And drugs aren't good for you if you do lots of them. Yeah, that girl is like crack cocaine to me... Sexually it was crazy. That's all I'll say. It was like napalm, sexual napalm...

There are people in the world who have the power to change our values. Have you ever been with a girl who made you want to quit the rest of your life? Did you ever say, "I want to quit my life and just f*ckin' snort you? If you charged me $10,000 to f*ck you, I would start selling all my shit just to keep f*cking you."

 ...and slams Jennifer Aniston for not blathering endlessly on Twitter about nothing:

The brunt of her success came before TMZ and Twitter. I think she's still hoping it goes back to 1998. She saw my involvement in technology as courting distraction. And I always said, "These are the new rules."...

He's now apologizing all over the place for using the "n" word in the very same interview. Here's a taste of his views on black women:

PLAYBOY: Do black women throw themselves at you?

MAYER: I don't think I open myself to it. My dick is sort of like a white supremacist. I've got a Benetton heart and a f*ckin' David Duke cock. I'm going to start dating separately from my dick.

PLAYBOY: Let's put some names out there. Let's get specific.

MAYER: I always thought Holly Robinson Peete was gorgeous. Every white dude loved Hilary from The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air. And Kerry Washington. She's superhot, and she's also white-girl crazy. Kerry Washington would break your heart like a white girl. Just all of a sudden she'd be like, "Yeah, I sucked his dick. Whatever." And you'd be like, "What? We weren't talking about that."

O.M.G. Can you say overshare? Do we really need to know about John Mayer's dick and love of porn? He's obviously suffering from chronic verbal diarrhea. This must stop. Not a big fan of Simpleminded Simpson and now I learn that she's all "crazy" in the sac? Ewww... Perhaps flatulence was involved. John must have loved that stinky ass.

Wednesday, February 10, 2010

Celine wants a baby, Jen wants privacy, and Angelina wants a diversion

Sometimes it feels like I'm chasing my tail, circling around the same issues. This is the latest People magazine cover. As we say in "bon français": tabarnak! 

Do I feel any sympathy for Céline Dion? Hell no! Hormone injections? Multiple failed IVFs? Painful tests? Going to try until it works? WTF? Oh honey, read the writing on the wall. You want another kid and can't have one the old fashioned way? Adopt for Christ's sake! Do you know how many orphans there are on this planet looking for homes? 

Céline reeks of the narcissistic, bourgeois desire to have your own, genetically similar progeny. To which I say: get a life. If it ain't happenin', it ain't happenin'. Move on and stop boring us with your self-inflicted sob stories. 

Speaking of self-inflicted sob stories, I saw a brief interview with Jennifer Aniston on Access Hollywood last night. She's trying WAY too hard to look all Zen. I don't buy it for one second. She's a total poseur. 

I've seen laid-back, contented people. She's not one of them. She thinks she is but she isn't. Jen's in Mexico with a bevy of her friends celebrating her 41st birthday.

Tonight, Access will have a story on the security detail to keep the paparazzi away from Jen's little birthday pow-wow. Well f*ck me. She just invited TV cameras to her little shin-dig, and she's looking for privacy? I call bullshit. And did you see the picture in the top right-hand corner of that People mag cover, beside Céline? 

Oh! It's "exclusive photos" of Jen's birthday party! These celebrities. They tire me with their hypocrisy. Then again, if they weren't such hypocrites, I'd have nothing to write about.

Speaking of hypocrisy, now has a photo and story of Angelina visiting a Haitian hospital. Well-timed? Oui. There's no denying Haiti needs help. Don't get me wrong. I have a heart. But this is a savvy media tactic on the part of Brangelina. To divert attention from the idea of them splitting up. 

You can never read/watch celebrity news and take it at face value. There is always a reason, a plan, a PR scheme to unearth. Kind of almost makes you feel sorry for them. Almost...

Monday, February 8, 2010

Brangelina suing over split story

Brangelina is suing News of the World, the British tabloid rag responsible for "breaking" the news about their apparently fictitious split. 

And yet, I'm still not convinced. My instincts are telling me otherwise. Sure, they could be together for a long while yet. They have a brand to protect. But a true companionship? Doubtful. 

I saw photos of them at the Directors' Guild awards. Something is definitely amiss. They didn't walk the carpet together. Jolie was a "surprise" guest. They're not going to the Oscars due to "scheduling conflicts". Whatever. This is a business deal, not a relationship. 

Brad, who used to look fresh-faced and upbeat, now looks resigned and haggard. Much older than his 46 years. You can bet Angelina's crazy is wearing him down. And it shows. Let's face it, the kids are the glue holding this thing together. If it weren't for them, these two wouldn't be an item anymore. 

I'm sure it's the only reason Katie is still with Tom. You can read it on her face: "What have I done? I married a religious zealot and procreated with him. I'm f*cked." She too looked carefree and happy, once upon a time. Now she dresses like ass, and looks like she's being held against her will.

Some celebrity pairings are not couples, they're a trademark. That's why they're saving face and sticking it out.  But the cracks, they're showing. It's just a matter of time before Katie tries to make a run for it and Angelina's lustre wears off.

Friday, February 5, 2010

Not only is Aniston single, her home is too

Oh Jenny, Jen, Jen. Why do you resort to such overtly desperate tactics? Remodeling your home for the "single life"? WTF? That's basically telling the Universe you don't want a man - ever. If that were true, then it wouldn't be a problem. But we all know you cry yourself to sleep every night over your singledom. 

You know Brad's into architecture. And now you're in Architectural Digest. Jen, you need to get over Brad. You need to let go. And if you want a man, you need a home that's open to a potential partner, not only the 24 friends you can seat at once in your dining room. 

You also need to stop dating douchey losers. You know who they are. And making crappy-ass movies. You claim you "entertain for a living". 

Well, these days you bore for a living. You bore us with your bland, one-dimensional, hey it's Rachel Green in another movie!-type characters. I know, I've said this all before. But it seems every time I turn around, there's another article about you, touting your fabulously single life. 

If I were you, I'd actually lay low for a while, stay out of the media. You're overexposed and sympathy for you is waning. You don't want that, especially when the media firestorm of Brangelina's breakup eventually arrives. 

Oh yes, it'll be your dream come true. But don't you dare take him back. Simply relish in the karmic kick-back and get on with your life. 

You don't need to perpetually convince us you're happy. You're overcompensating and we can smell the desperation. It's actually having the opposite effect of what you intended. 

Now might be a good time for an extended vacation, maybe somewhere secluded. Like Canada. It's too cold up here these days for the paparazzi. Carpe diem.

Thursday, February 4, 2010

Brangelina: We're happy, dammit! At least for the next four hours.

Oh people at People. You try so hard. How dumb do you think we are? Actually, never mind. There are a lot of stupid people out there. However, I'm not one of them. This story reeks of media manipulation. Notice the separate photos and the fact that Jolie was a "surprise" guest at the Directors Guild of America awards in Los Angeles. 

In other words, the shit's goin' down between her and Brad but they're not ready to cop to it, so to quell the red hot break-up rumours, they put themselves on display as the "happy couple". 

And wow, miracle of miracles, they were super sweet and affectionate with each other for the whole four-hour ceremony! That must mean there's no trouble in paradise. Four hours is SUCH A LONG TIME. Remember, these two are actors. And they were just "friends" before his divorce from Jennifer Aniston. Uh-huh.

It all sounds too manufactured. I don't buy it. And to add insult to injury, the Directors' Guild bestowed upon Katheryn Bigelow the feature film director's award for The Hurt Locker

Sure, she's the first woman to win it. But that film, and my boyfriend and I may be the only ones on the planet who feel this way, was a raging piece of shit

I don't even want to think of the possibility of it winning a best picture Oscar. It's a mystery to me as to why there is such widespread consensus that this movie is good. I hope James Cameron wins the Oscar, if only to keep it out of his ex-wife's hands.

Wednesday, February 3, 2010

Commercial-ridden TV is so passé

It's the newer version of "video killed the radio star". "DVD killed the TV watching star". 

The premiere of the final season of Lost aired last night. Back in the day, I would have counted down the hours, made the popcorn, taken my place under my faux-fur blanket on the couch and savored this momentous occasion. However, with the advent of DVDs, this is no longer the case.

I shunned the premiere on "regular" TV, with those pesky commercials. I chose to wait until the DVD comes out, when I can watch it like a food addict gorging on a box of Ho-Ho's - without interruption. I did the same with Weeds

Sure, you wait a few months after the season is done airing but it is so worth it. Unless a series is on The Movie Network or HBO. That's different. There are no commercials. However, in this case, there is a  week-long wait between episodes and sometimes long waits between seasons. But their shows are so good, you wait, without protest.

Call me spoiled but I blame DVDs and specialty cable channels. Who the hell wants to watch TV with commercials if you don't have to? Especially when it comes to your favorite shows?  

I say we do away with commercials all together. They suck. Everyone can agree on that. Sure, they're a major source of revenue for TV networks, but come on people, let's get creative and think of other, less annoying ways to sell products and make television profitable.

Now, when I've exhausted my options on DVD or specialty cable channels, I've been forced to dumb down my television viewing. Why, you ask? Because network television has gotten that bad. And I'm a TV addict. 

Sure, I could do something more productive with my time, but why? I'm now thoroughly enmeshed in the latest season of The Bachelor (quelle horreur!), Dragon's Den and Gordon Ramsay's Kitchen Nightmares.

Monday, February 1, 2010

Gervais gets to the gist of the matter

This is one of the reasons why I love Ricky Gervais. No skirting around the issue, no bullshit. Even if it's completely satirical, there is a grain of truth to it, as is always the case. 

The theme of children: to have or not to have, has popped up on this blog a few times. I like Ricky's take on the subject. It's bold and leaves very little room for misunderstanding. 

It's also quite opportune since just yesterday I was speaking with a dear friend of mine who was telling me she'd recently been told by an acquaintance that "every woman should have children". 

This acquaintance also found there was something "weird" about women who chose not to procreate. My friend then started wondering if there was something inherently wrong with her because she doesn't have an overwhelming desire for children and is perfectly happy with her life, as it is. 

My theory is that the more sanctimonious the mother, the more secretly bitter she is about her decision to have children, and the more envious she is of those who chose not to. Be cautious of those "who doth protest too much". Someone who is completely comfortable with their decision will be accepting of yours, even if it's the opposite of what they chose.

Those who tend to whitewash motherhood are like religious fanatics selling celibacy - the only reason they don't want you to have sex is because they can't.


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