I'm on hiatus

It's that time of year. Time to engage in some uncomfortable air travel and see the relatives and whatever.  I'll be back.

The world according to kid

WARNING: Content may be construed as daddy-blogging.  Enjoy or avoid as your preference may be.

This is our kid.  She's about 2 1/2 years old now.  She's like a little person now.  I mean, she was a little person the whole time, but when they're like 6 months old they're basically just a blob you put food into and remove waste from the outside of, and now she is starting to get independent and talks in roughly complete sentences and has LOTS OF OPINIONS ABOUT THINGS.  Maybe they will interest you.  Maybe they won't.  The Wife is out of town for a while here and I'm putting these here for her benefit just as much as yours.

On Food

"This tastes like orange" (eating an orange)

"This tastes like a pouch" (eating a pouch)

(After hearing what we're having for dinner) "Oh, that sounds really delicious"

"I want juice and milk in the same cup."  (Ew, no.)

On Familial Relationships

(Apropos of nothing, to me) "I'm your daughter."

"Mama's a big daughter"

(To every other guy boarding the N Judah) "That's not my dada."

(One guy said "No it is not," with a sense of relief? Or something?)

Misc.

(After I tickled her) "You need to calm down." (Pause) "We both need to calm down."

Her: "Shit. Shit. Shit."

Me: "What are you saying?"

Her: "Shit. Shit. Shit the odor."

Me: (lightbulb going off) "Shrek?  Shrek the ogre?"

Her: "Yes. Shit the odor."

While driving the car

"I'm looking for a parking spot."

Obviously a San Franciscan.

As I alluded to on Twitter, the experience of solo parenting (day 5 of 10 today, yay) has imbued in me a newfound respect for single parents.  We're very lucky because she's a pretty easygoing kid and is usually great to be around, but still, sometimes you just want to hand them off and be like "Here, you deal with this for a while" and having someone else around makes that possible most of the time.  So hats off, single parents. 

Modern Nursery Rhymes

Mary had an online troll
Online troll, online troll
Mary had an online troll
Who ruined her Internet

It followed her around online
Round online, round online
It followed her around online
Leaving disturbing threats

~~~~~ ** ~~~~~

Itsy bitsy spider signed up with Instacart

Down came her pay and broke the spider’s heart

Out came the lawyers who sued up and down the line

Now Itsy’s an employee, not a 1099

~~~~~ ** ~~~~~

The New Bay Bridge is falling down, falling down, falling down

The New Bay Bridge is falling down

Lack of oversight!

~~~~~ ** ~~~~~

Baa baa No Vaxx Sheep, have you a disease?

Yes sir, yes sir, I have all of these:

Measles, rubella, whooping cough too 

Got a personal exemption; I don’t care about you

~~~~~ ** ~~~~~

Twinkle twinkle little bar

How I wonder where you are

Shelf of bourbon, shelf of rye

I need a drink or I’m gonna die

Twinkle twinkle little bar

Please be open, I’m not far

~~~~~ ** ~~~~~

Pat-a-cake, pat-a-cake, baker’s man

Make me some edibles as fast as you can

Doctor said pot would cure tinnitus in my ear

But who gives a crap, it’ll be legal next year!

~~~~~ ** ~~~~~

There was an old woman who lived in a shoe

She had rent control so it was only a hundred and two

But the landlord is Ellising her so soon she’ll be out

And the landlord will charge 12 times that amount!

The Bachelor: n00dz

It's Night 2 of our Special Two Night Event/Painful Slog and we're still in Des Moines and going on a solo date with Becca who "likes to take things slow" OR NOT AT ALL I GUESS RIGHT HUH WINK WINK.  They sit around and talk about how she's never been in love before.  Whatever.  Back at the hotel, SparklyBritt is leaving! Oh wait, no she's not.  Oh, wait, she is.  What the fuck?  I guess they can't fix her roots in Des Moines and she needs to see her hair team back in LA.  They're about to start the Rose Cer and Britt needs to talk and everyone is SO MAD.  I think she wants him to beg her to stay or something but he gives her the "I'll walk you out" which I wish you could use to end any relationship.  Like, instead of a protracted and annoying divorce you could just get up off the couch and go "I'll walk you out" and that would be it.

Anyway, your Final 4 is Baby Voice, Virgin II, the Pornstar, and Kaitlyn.  Sorry, Carly's Eyebrows.  That's what you get for snitching.  She gives a pretty good Crying Limo performance about how her family will see her "really sad again, like they always do." God, why such a downer, Carly?

Time for hometown dates.  Literally ANY PLACE in America will be less depressing than Farmer's hometown.  First we're off to Shreveport Louisiana, where Becca has some kind of Stevie Nicks of the Playground thing going on.

Becca's got a Nancy Grace-style Mom and a sister who looks like a guy dressed up as Becca.  Sis basically says Becca is a passionless husk who will never want to do a sex with a man.  Nancy Grace and Farmer head downstairs and what, are they running a gym in the basement?

Mom says she's never seen Becca holding hands with anyone, so maybe Sis was right.  Wait, it is just now dawning on me that Becca still hasn't told him she's a fucking virgin!  Oh man, this is going to be the best Fantasy Suite ever.  They head over to the ferris wheel at the LA State Fair and there are probably people who have literally lost their virginity on the ferris wheel at the LA State Fair but not tonight.

Next, Baby Voice in Chicago, or actually a featureless suburb.  Off to the fertility clinic where Baby Voice works and there's an uncomfortable moment when it appears that she and a coworker are going to have Farmer ejaculate into a cup but that seems more like Jade's territory!  WACKA WACKA.  Then over to BV's sister's place where sister sensibly refuses to bless the potential TV union until BV's the last one standing.  Good for you, sis.

Off to Phoenix to meet Kaitlyn who said she was Canadian? Oh, her family lives there in the winter.  Obama can't control the border!  For some reason they go to a recording studio and record a rap song. I guess the producers drew that out of a hat.  It's basically the whitest thing since fruit suspended in Jello.  Over at K's family casa, we learn that Mom is very protective of Kaitlyn since her "last experience."  Yikes!  Cheating or beating, one of the two, I bet.

Time for Jade in Gehring, Nebraska, which looks like the Vegas strip compared to Arlington.  Here we meet Dad, Dad's fiancee, and Mom.  Dad's fiancee is probably a hairstylist who exacted an awful revenge on Mom.  There's also a chinbeard brother and EVERYONE is just fucking DYING to tell Farmer about the porn but don't.  Chinbeard, though, says that Jade is a "wild mustang" even though he's not an Old West saloonkeeper so I don't know.  OK, time to fess up.  They check into a seedy motel with a laptop and she beats around the bush so to speak for a while and then breaks the news and then shows him the goods!  This is the face of a man looking at his date's naked body:

This is where I'd be CANCEL THE REST OF THE SHOW WE ARE GETTING FUCKING MARRIED but Farmer's pretty chill.

Back in Iowa for the Rose Ceremony and guess who gets cut?  That's what you get for being honest, Jade. Next time take a hint from Becca and withhold, withhold, withhold.

Next week, we're finally GOING SOMEWHERE.

A few words about the return of 90 Day Fiance, TV's greatest achievement

90 Day Fiance is a reality show about people who get engaged to foreigners and then the foreigners come here on a special visa and they have 90 days to either get married or GTFO.  Sounds mildly interesting, but the producers are GENIUSES at casting and finding the right couples to follow.  Beth Spotswood did an excellent job breaking down season 1 here.  Now season 2 is upon us and it looks just as good or maybe even better like that's even possible.

Just like a drug addict who sees a Ziploc baggie, I get triggered around some reality shows and start to feel that feeling like I want to recap them.  As you know, I quit doing the Bachelor/ette but I'm thinking about starting up again for this shit.  It is a target-rich environment, let me tell you.

We've got Justin, who lives in Silicon Valley and looks like a techbro but is actually an elementary school teacher and obviously has something wrong with him because he had to find a potential wife in Colombia while he was there for some sports thing and then he brings her to America and we find out it's mostly so she can clean his apartment.  So now Justin has green card AND I.R.S. problems probably.

The first season was all dudes importing foreign chicks, so it was refreshing to see Chelsea, an American girl who went to Nicaragua and hooked up with NICARAGUA'S MOST FAMOUS POP STAR, a tiny person called "Yamir" with occasionally frosted tips and a carefully considered slouch.  I hate to be a cynical bastard but Yamir is using her to get to this country and become American pop star, I promise you.

Nicaragua's biggest pop star (L) and a too-trusting American woman (R)

And then there's Brett, a pasty mid-30's who somehow knocked up a woman and has a daughter and lives with an older lesbian couple and whose best friend looks like Paula Deen.  Brett is all kinds of weird.  He went online shopping for a mate and found Daya in the Phillippines or Philippinnes or however you spell it and this is going to be supes awkward.

I haven't decided yet if I'm going to go full retard and recap every episode, Bachelor-style; it mostly depends on how much I've had to drink by Sunday night at 8, but we'll see.

(There was also a Where Are They Now show about last season and while it was a hoot to see that Mormon missionary/general schlub Alan and Brazilian knockout Kirlyam are still together and appear to be blissfully happy, their segment mostly consisted of a trip to Alan's family reunion which looked more painful than kidney stones because (1) it appeared to by dry, since they're Mormon, duh, and the only thing worse than a family reunion is a DRY family reunion, and (2) no I'm wrong, it gets worse, because it was a THEMED family reunion and the theme was REDNECK.  A redneck themed family reunion in Utah.  With Confederate flag sightings.  If that didn't send Kirlyam screaming to the TAM ticket counter, she can survive anything America can throw at her.  BONUS FACT: once she gets her green card, she can start modeling. Oh no Alan.)

Debra J. Saunders uses assisted suicide on reason and sense

I was just thinking the other day that I haven't read anything stupid and nonsensical from Debra J. Saunders in a while.  Luckily she's here to fix that.  Today Debra J. Saunders is tackling assisted suicide, which is a complicated, nuanced topic that Debra J. Saunders cannot understand or discuss intelligently.

SPOILER ALERT: Debra J. Saunders is against assisted suicide.

Here's my favorite disclaimer in a while, at the VERY END of the column, so you have to read her childish attempts to rail against it before you find out:

Full disclosure: My husband, Wesley J. Smith, is a paid consultant with the anti-assisted suicide Patients Rights Council.

Haha.  I hope he has some better arguments than you do, because yours are terrible.  Debra is here to discuss the case of Brittany Maynard, who has terminal cancer with less than six months to live and is moving to Oregon, where assisted suicide is legal, because she wants to be in control of the end of her life.  Personally, I have no problem with that, but we're not here to discuss why I'm right, but rather why Debra J. Saunders is so very wrong.  Here's the key section:

I love the spirit, but there is a huge flaw in Maynard’s reasoning. She says she wants her story to help change California law so that no one else has to “move to another state to not die horribly.” Close to 40,000 Americans kill themselves every year; they make the same choice Maynard is making, although most won’t have the media attention that is being lavished on the vibrant and telegenic UC Berkeley graduate. Suicide is the 10th leading cause of death in this country.

Perhaps Maynard sees this choice as a way of beating back at death, to not allow the beast to own every turn of an end approaching far too soon. I respect that. But she is wrong to call it, as advocates do, “death with dignity.” The very phrase suggests that people who do not choose suicide lack dignity.

I've read this over and over and I can't see what she thinks is the "huge flaw in Maynard's reasoning."  Is it that "advocates" call it "death with dignity" and that somehow impugns non-suicide death?  Because that argument is so breathtakingly stupid I'm amazed that Debra J. Saunders could turn on or operate a computer to compose those sentences.  In no way does calling suicide "death with dignity" imply anything other kinds of death, any more than calling Debra J. Saunders an idiot imply that she has occupied the idiot field and there are no other idiots.  Sadly, this is not true.

Also, nowhere in the article does Saunders attribute the phrase "death with dignity" to Maynard, so it's not even her goddam argument.  Debra J. Saunders is assisted suiciding a strawman.

She - or husband Wesley, I don't know - also comes up with one more anti-assisted suicide argument.  Well, she doesn't, but she manages to write down what someone else said. 

Marilyn Golden of the Disability Rights Education & Defense Fund in Berkeley is concerned that Maynard’s story obscures the larger picture. “For every individual with a happy family who’s not at risk for abuse, there are many other individuals who may be subtly steered toward assisted suicide by their insurance company or pressured by their family.”

Sure, families subtly steer other family members into all kinds of bad decisions, but we don't ban options that people want because some people may get steered towards them.  Just because a kid in a military family feels pressured to join the Army, we're not going to ban the Army. 

In the end, just like with gay marriage, it's impossible to construct a logical argument against assisted suicide, because it doesn't fucking affect you at all. Debra J. Saunders is just too dumb to realize this.

This US immigration application is amazing

Thanks to Internet communicant LSUcaligrl I have been alerted to the existence of U.S. Citizenship and Immigration Services Form I-485, "Application to Become a Real American And Quit Living in This Filthy Hellhole I Call a Country" oh wait no it's actually "Application to Register Permanent Residence or Adjust Status" but same diff really.  This is what you fill out to live here.

Obviously, we only want the Good and True to hang out with, so the questions on this form are CAREFULLY DESIGNED  to weed out Bad People and Undesirables.  How do we do that?  With the HONOR SYSTEM.

Page 3:

It's the world's worst game of "I Never"!  In the past 10 years, have you ever been a prostitute or procured anyone for prostitution?  DRINK!  Apparently, if you did a little hooking 11 years ago, we're cool, but that $50 BJ in '05 will keep you right the fuck out of USA.

Page 4 gets even weirder:

Do you intend to engage in a little espionage or maybe overthrow the government?  BZZZZT SORRY NOT THE COUNTRY FOR YOU.  There is something so wholesome and aw shucks gee whiz about these questions.  I know it's a formality and they probably use it to also charge you with perjury if you say "no" and then later espionage against the US, but I love the unspoken assumption that some chucklehead applying to live here will go "Shit, I DO intend to do a little espionaging," and check "YES."

Also, this form clearly hasn't been updated since 1955 what with the "Are you a Communist" question instead of "Are you whatever the Westboro Baptist Church people are."  Also, were you a Nazi?

Question 13: Do you plan to practice polygamy? If so, do you have contacts in the reality show production industry?

So let this be a lesson to you Communists, Nazis, weapon traffickers, people who have "called for" "severely injuring any person," labor camp servers, and people who have gotten weapons training: MOVE ALONG, NOTHING TO SEE HERE.

Happy Birthday, kid

Today is baby Beyonce's first birthday.  She has no idea because she's one year old and doesn't understand time or aging. This is probably the last birthday when we can get away with totally phoning it in and not having donkey rides or a party at Chuck E Cheese or whatever unholy Godforsaken kidz thing we'll have to do.

Beyonce, v. 1.0:



Now, you'll note, she's somewhat larger. Perhaps disturbingly, she has discovered that she has the ability to scream:



I know I violated the Sacred Rule of iPhone Videography and didn't hold the phone sideways. Sorry.

Despite the screaming, which can be nerve-rattling, she's what I imagine to be a pretty easy-going kid.  She doesn't get rattled easily and overall she's pretty chill.  I would say we got lucky, because I don't think of myself as "doesn't get rattled easily" or "pretty chill."  So I guess she got the Wife's unflappable gene and my tendency to scream for no reason once in a while.

People always say "Didn't the first year just fly by?"  NO.  That is some bullshit perpetrated by the baby/grandparent industry.  The first year absolutely does NOT fly by.  It seems like about three years.  Well, up until a few months ago, then it started speeding up.  But the first six months at least are about the longest six months of your life.

Anyway, Happy Birthday, kid! This is going to be up on the Internet forever, so if you're watching this stoned with your college roommate or animatronic robot servant or whatever they have in 2031, get off the computer and do your homework!  Or plug the homework module into your brain socket or whatever's going on in the distant future.  Best to President Chelsea Clinton.

 

What I'm looking for

Grenoble - Was on House Hunters International last night; wanted to look up where in France it was

423-648-4908 - Called our home phone; didn't recognize number, so Googled it; appears to be a survey of some kind?

Pacsun - You know, the woman who bought the dirty t-shirts; wanted to see the shirts

Shanghai Tunnel - Didn't understand the reference in this Generic tweet; still don't, really

CHP accident - Caught the tail end of the story on the news, wanted to know more.  Tragic.

Infant swim seat - We're going to Arizona in a few weeks.  Staying at a place with a pool.  Into the water, Beyonce!

Bill Nye - Had some dustup with some idiot Congressperson I wanted to read about.

QR code reader - I needed a QR code reader

True Detective - Needed my TD info; there is so much TD info

Katie Lee dating - I actually just entered "Katie Lee" because I saw her on some cooking show and she looked familiar; turns out it's the same Katie Lee who used to be married to Billy Joel and hosted the first season of Top Chef.  Google autofilled "dating," as it do.  (She was dating Will Arnett, BTW)

the kitchen food network - The aforementioned Katie is on the Food Network show "The Kitchen."  As far as I know, there is no network called "The Kitchen Food Network" but if you want to start it, let's do it.

Turley zinfandel - Had it with dinner at The Cavalier; was delicious; wanted to see what the markup was.  (Restaurant: $80; retail: $29. Not TOO bad.)

Happy Valentine's Day everyone! It's Name Change Friday!

It's been a while, huh?  Let's see who's changing up.  Nothing says love like a new handle!

Our first Name Changer comes from the Humboldt County Classified Post and I mostly love it because it looks like the HCCP is really going for that gold rush look, even online!

Doesn't that look totally 1849?  Anyway, it appears that Michael Donald Castillo is getting back to his roots and going with the much spicier Miguel Donaldo Castillo.  Ole, Miguel!  I heartily approve.  Why be Michael Donald when you can be Miguel Donaldo?  Michael Donald works the loading dock at the Lucky.  Miguel Donaldo is a mysterious stranger with a cape and an air of danger!  Smart move.

This next one is kind of hard to read, but bear with me because it's SO WORTH IT. I'm not sure what paper it came out of, but the name change is in Butte County, so who knows what the fuck they're up to up there.

I don't know if you can read it, but the present name is "Margaret Dolores (Delores) O'Donnell" and the proposed new name is "Lady Margaret Watts Schneider Vallier Marks O'Donnell."  LADY MARGARET!  Swoon.  This is somebody who is doing it right.  Lady Margaret is not fucking around.

Our last changer is also a bit of a doozy.  It's out of LA.

New Name: Black Kennedy Lincoln.  Drops mic.

Have a great weekend, everybody!  Especially you, Lady Margaret.

I have found the Holy Grail of bad baby name sites

As you may have noticed, I'm continually fascinated by the wacky variety of names that Today's Parents choose to foist upon their hapless offspring, and I recently discovered a Vital Resource in Bad Name Research.  On Babycenter.com, future parents who are too lazy or clueless to actually make a fucking decision and pull the trigger on a name for their future burden to society can throw their hands up and PUT IT TO A VOTE in the "Baby Name Polls" section, which turns out to be one of the most unintentionally hilarious things I've seen in a while.  Here's a sample:

Tyton!  And Titania!  I hope they meet at a Babycenter.com Reunion years from now and get married and have little Titanium or Titanella.

There are the usual Bad Decisions:

"Crystal" is almost the stripperiest name you can give a kid.  It's also convenient because you're naming the kid after her inevitable future drug of choice.  Anyway, "Crystal" is bad enough, but those alternative choices veer off from bad to unbelievably bizarre.  How do you even pronounce "Chriscylda"?  That sounds like a skin disease.

(Yes, I know.  "Famenine."  Let's keep it to the matter at hand.)

Don't look now, sweetie, but your husband is pulling your leg:

At least, I hope he is, because I WANT TO PARTY WITH THAT GUY.  Fire Star!  HAHAHAHAHA.  That is so fucking awesome.

Wait, he might be serious?  Oh Jesus.  I guess they're at Burning Man right now.  Anyway, I have no idea what her little list underneath is supposed to mean.  Isn't she mixing up boy and girl names?  I guess Fire Star is unisex.  "Lanoi" and "Nanoi" is awesome for twins, BTW.

In some cases, we got here too late:

Can you read that?  "Siblings so far as Azalea, Wisteria, Camellia, Jedidiah, Sylvia!"  Actually, Camellia is fine.  Wisteria is just weird.  How about Sativa?  Or Poison Ivy.  Every family needs a Bad Girl.  Also, STOP HAVING KIDS.

I guess it's time to put my own poll up.

Have a good weekend, everybody!

Into the world of Craigslist Flakes

I recently placed an item on the Craigslist "Free" section.  I did not do this as a psychological experiment or to test the limits of human endurance, but doing that is about the same thing.  Because even when you try to just GIVE SOMETHING AWAY, you come face to face with a very specific kind of Human Being: the Craigslist Flake.

The first email I received, less than an hour after I posted the item (which was a bed, as it happens), was terse but seemed helpful:

I can pick this up Sunday.....

Cheers,

K

415 XXX XXXX

OK then! That's exactly when I wanted it picked up. I guess we don't have to get into a big thing or anything.  (I almost DQ'd this person because they used "Cheers" to close the email, which I hate, like you better be British or literally clinking a glass with me or just don't use Cheers, but I let it slide.)  I called "K" whose style in voicemail messages was as equally loquacious as her email persona: her message said, in its entirety, "LEAVE A MESSAGE" .  So I left a message telling "K" I would be happy to give her the bed the next day, which was Sunday.

Obviously, K never called back.  K can NOT, contrary to her email, "pick this up Sunday."

Then I got an email from Shoshanna.  It said:

"Hi we want to collect ur stuff,plz give directions to pick up,dn't give to anyone,we will pick,if possible today night itself we will pick,thank u

WHOA WHOA WHOA SHOSHANNA.  CHILL OUT ON BEING SO BOSSY.  I might have let you collect my stuff, but I don't like a complete stranger instructing me not to give to anyone. What's more, your fractured syntax makes it nearly impossible for me to divine your pickup plans.  I have no idea what "today night itself" might mean.  BZZZZZTTT.  Shoshanna got eliminated.

Next up was Linda.  Linda, knowing something about how people work, tried a tack in her email header that I immediately found appealing.  It said "I'll pay $20".  As we know, $20 is better than nothing!  In her email, Linda said she could pick it up Sunday, which happened to be the day I wanted it picked up.  I liked the cut of Linda's jib and emailed her back right away.

Never heard back from Linda.  I guess she decided to take her $20 elsewhere.

I was beginning to think that setting my bed on the sidewalk with a "FREE" sign on it was going to be the best option when I got to the next person on the list, Francine.  I liked her plucky spirit.

Hi 
Love to have it
Francine 415-XXX-XXXX
Thx

Francine isn't barking commands at me like mean old Shoshanna.  She'd love to have it!  I'd love that too.  I called the number and left a message and, mirabile dictu, FRANCINE CALLED BACK and we set up a time and then she TEXTED ME TO CONFIRM.

That time is tonight.  We shall see, Francine.  We shall see.

I should point out, as a postscript, that a few months ago I put a desk on CL for $40 and sold it to the first person who emailed about it, who then arrived at the appointed time with a suitable vehicle, have me the $40, and left with the desk.  The whole thing was surreal.

It's Name Change Friday!

HI-YO!  Let us return, as we must, to the rolls of those seeking to rebrand themselves with shiny new monikers.

First up we have one I like to call DOUBLE TROUBLE.

ORDER TO SHOW CAUSE FOR CHANGE OF NAME
CASE NUMBER: CNC-13-549553
PETITION OF: Amber R. Tyler FOR CHANGE OF NAME
TO ALL INTERESTED PERSONS: 1. Petitioner: Amber R. Tyler filed a petition with this court for a decree changing names as follows: Present name: a. Tyler Audriana Dempsey to Proposed name: Tyler Audriana Tyler

Uh-oh.  Here we have a situation where obviously things didn't work out with Mr. or Ms. Dempsey and so we're apparently giving young Tyler our last name which, unfortunately, is also Tyler. Tyler Tyler, welcome to a world of confusion.  Unless, of course, we're calling you "Audriana" (lovely, BTW), in which case Audriana Tyler sounds great and carry on then.

Next up is TOO MANY RICHARDS.

CIVIL AMENDED ORDER TO SHOW CAUSE FOR CHANGE OF NAME
Case No. CIV521327 Superior Court of California, County of San Mateo
Petition of: Rich Shapero for Change of Name
TO ALL INTERESTED PERSONS: Petitioner Rich Shapero filed a petition with this court for a decree changing names as follows:
Richard Wallace Shapero to Rich Shapero
Ransom Saltmarch to Rich Shapero
Richard Shapero to Rich Shapero
Richard W. Shapero to Rich Shapero

Apparently not content to change his own name, Rich Shapero wants to change EVERYBODY'S NAME!  ONE DAY SOON WE WILL ALL BE RICH SHAPERO. RESISTANCE IS FUTILE.

No, I'm just kidding, you guys.  Obviously Rich has been using a bunch of variations and wants to clean house.  So Richard W. and all its permutations will be just plain Rich.  Let's see, we've got Richard Wallace Shapero, fine, got that, Ransom Saltmarch, OK, fair enough. Richard Shapero, sure -

HOLD ON WAIT A SECOND.  Where did YOU come from, Ransom Saltmarch, besides probably a Thomas Pynchon novel?  How did you get mixed up with the Many Richard Shaperos?  Perhaps Rich has a secret life as the dashing Ransom Saltmarch, raising an eyebrow at you from the end of the bar as he lifts a perfectly made martini to his moustachioed lips.  "Surprised to find you here, Saltmarch," you'll say, joining him.  "Really?  I shouldn't think so," Ransom replies.  "Anyway, I was just leaving.  Here, let me get your drink.  Oh, all I have is baht.  Next time, perhaps."  Ransom puts on an exquisite overcoat and leaves, getting into an X-Type parked right in front of the entrance.  You crane your neck to watch but he's already gone.  Ransom Saltmarch.

Have a great weekend, everybody.  Especially you, Ransom.

Today in Name Changing

Tired of being Jason? Or Amanda? Or Jules?  No problem, just change your name.  But first, in California anyway, you have to run a legal notice in the paper with your old, boring beat-up name and your new, spiffy name, I guess so you can't fool anyone who's after you for money or whatever.  I love these notices, because each one is a snapshot of a moment in someone's life when they slough off their busted old identity and look towards a bright new future.

You can find them in the back of the Examiner, probably because it's the cheapest place to run an ad.  Look for the heading ORDER TO SHOW CAUSE FOR CHANGE OF NAME.  Let's see who's changing things up today.

First, we have Aspen Brooke Branch-Moore, who is going to become Aspen Brooke Dominguez.  Both are pretty great, because "Aspen Brooke" is fantastic.  It literally sounds like money rubbing together.  I gotta say, though, I like "Branch-Moore" slightly more for its vaguely old-money British feel.  But I suppose Aspen is getting adopted? Or maybe a commitment ceremony? Or something.  Either way, you're good, Aspen.

Next, we have Marietonie Rosa Alcaraz Yumul, who wants to become Marietonie Rosa Yumul Yambad.  Lose an Alcaraz, gain a Yambad, I always say!

Our clear, absolute winner today is Nancy Ellen Bevers.  She is discarding that admittedly somewhat pedestrian moniker and is going big.  I mean, REALLY BIG.  Ready?  Nancy will now be rocking:

ALAYA.

That's it.  Just ALAYA.  In a word, FABULOUS.  She's joining Cher and Liberace and Siegfried and Roy in the solo name club.  Congratulations, Nancy!  You win Name Changing for today.

(So I guess you can legally go by one name?  Huh.  I did now know that.  But I sort of want to show up at Nancy/Alaya's name change hearing just to congratulate her.)

Catfish the TV Show: Mantei & Lennay

[References: the amazing Mantei Te'o story / Catfish the TV Show]

SCENE 1: Nev and Max are in a Hampton Inn in an undisclosed location. Max is holding a video camera and is filming Nev on his laptop.

NEV: OK, let's see what kind of emails we have this week.  Whoa, hold on, this one looks interesting.  "Dear Nev, I am a Heisman Trophy finalist and one of the most celebrated defensive college football players of my generation.  I am a dead lock high first round NFL draft pick.  You'd think I'd be carried away in a pussy tornado like that cow in 'Twister,' but as it turns out the only chick I'm into is online and I've never met her.  She says her name is Lennay and she looks pretty hot from the pictures."

MAX: Wow.  What's a "Heisman Trophy"?

NEV: It's a sports thing.  Never mind, you wouldn't understand.  We should go see Mantei and see if we can help him.

SCENE 2: [Caption: "South Bend, IA".]  Nev and Max are meeting with Mantei Te'o. They show him the results of their research.

NEV: So you see, Mantei, it seems like there's no Lennay at all.  In fact, it looks like the Lennay accounts are all run by a guy named Ronaiah Tuiasosopo.

MANTEI: Tuiasosopo?  Any relation to forgettable Oakland Raiders backup QB Marques Tuiasosopo?

MAX: What's a "backup QB"?

NEV: (to Max) It's a sports person. Don't worry about it.  {to Mantei) As a matter of fact, Mantei, yes, they're cousins, apparently.  Do you want to try and meet Lennay and see what happens?

MANTEI: I thought you said she wasn't real.

NEV: Well, yeah, of course, that's obvious to even the most casual observer.  I mean, did anyone believe that former Miss Teen USA/meth freak/Celebrity Rehab vet/sex addict Kari Ann Peniche was having an online affair with that dork with bad teeth in rural New York? Of course not.  That guy got totally lucky, though.  At least the person he was actually corresponding with wasn't morbidly obese.  Anyway, point is, let's play along because we have 47 minutes to fill.

MANTEI: I don't follow.

NEV: Never mind.

MAX: Let's go for smoothies.

SCENE 3: Mantei and Nev arrive at a house in a rural setting, followed by Max and a camera crew.  They go to the door and ring the doorbell.  There is no answer.

MAX: What should we do?

MANTEI: How about trying the other door?

NEV: I don't know if that will work.

MAX: Wait, here comes someone.

The GHOST OF FRANK GIFFORD appears from around the corner of the house, followed by the GHOSTS OF THE 2005 MINNESOTA VIKINGS.

MANTEI: Wow, Ghost of Frank Gifford!  Are you the one who was pretending to be Lennay?

GHOST OF FRANK GIFFORD: The fuck? What? No, I don't know anything about that dadgum Internet.  We're just here to tell you this will blow over.  Hell, I banged a sky waitress in a Midtown hotel and it was all caught on tape and do you think anyone remembers that?

GHOSTS OF 2005 MINNESOTA VIKINGS: Yeah, we were at a boat sex party that was so dope it has its own Wikipedia entry.  Fred Smoot can't even get arrested in Minneapolis now. 

MANTEI: So no bigs? I'm all good?

GHOST OF FRANK GIFFORD: Sure, kiddo.  Stick to 3-D chicks next time.  And have fun in Cleveland, you poor bastard.

Presenting the Greatest Show in the History of Television, ever

It's on VH1 and it's called "Couples Therapy."  It's a reality show.  Basically they get several ZZZ-list "celebrities" who are having marital difficulties to move into a house with their maybe famous/maybe not spouses and try to Work Shit Out with the assistance of Dr. Jenn Berman, a foul-mouthed marriage counselor who has a radio show on Sirius and looks like the best friend in a romantic comedy.

There are so many amazing things about this show I barely know where to start.  So I'll just dive in.

One of the couples is underage Twitter whore/professional underdresser Courtney Stodden and her husband, That Guy From Lost.  To the extent that you've ever had any thoughts about Courtney Stodden, they're all true.  She is literally the Worst Thing on the Planet.  When Dr. Jenn Berman tries to institute a dress code to keep Courtney Stodden from wearing clothes that would make a San Pablo Ave. hooker embarrassed, Courtney Stodden casts herself as the Rosa Parks of teen sluts and declares that she is unwilling to put on a shirt.  This causes Courtney Stodden and That Guy From Lost to be banished from the house, ONLY TO RETURN IN A FUTURE EPISODE.  DUN DUN DUNNNNNN.

Another one of the couples is TOO $HORT AND MONICA.  Holy shit, Too $hort, WTF?

Couples Therapy 2

Too $hort kind of wanders through the show with a constant "what the hell am I doing here" expression, which makes perfect sense.

Another couple is some guy named Nik who runs a website called The Dirty that I had never heard of and his wife, Lorenzo Lamas' daughter Shayne.  They got married in Vegas after knowing each other for an hour and a half!  And then had kids!  They clearly, CLEARLY loathe each other.  I hate them both with the white-hot intensity of molten platinum.  If there were any justice in the world they would both be working the night shift at a Huddle House in Mobile, Alabama instead of constantly fighting with each other on TV.

I could go on, but it's just too much.  Oh, one more thing.  Every week Dr. Jenn Berman brings in a guest to I guess tell the fractured couples about how to be better at marriage and one week it was this guy whose story was that he STALKED A CHICK HE SAW ON A MAGAZINE COVER FOR 20 YEARS and then when he finally broke up with his boring-ass first wife he got in touch with her and she somehow agreed to MARRY THIS CREEPER.  What a true tale of love and inspiration!  The lesson is: Get fixated on the platonic ideal of a woman you want and then wait out your first bullshit marriage and YOU SHALL HAVE HER.  See?  Isn't your marriage all fixed up now?

This show is more important than the Fiscal Cliff and the Mars Rover combined. Get on it.

We are expanding our roster

Please join me in welcoming Buster Matt Cain Shooter The Assassin Yards After the Catch K*:

[* Name not 100% cleared with The Wife yet]

That's right!  In 2030, this lil guy will be showing a fake ID to the door dude at the Uptown.  Or a fake retinal scan or Implant Identity Chip or whatever they have then.  

Can't tell much from that photo, huh?  I've taken the liberty of adding annotations:

Just like Dad!

What else?  We're very excited, obvs.  I promise not to become a Daddy Blogger.  Ugh, just typing that felt dirty.

Don't pull me over Mr. Officer

I know we have a lot of fun here and I try to usually steer away from Political Stuff because (1) it's usually more depressing than funny and (2) umm, it's just depressing, but let's do take a moment here to note that while we weren't paying attention we slowly started living in a fucking police state.

Exhibit A:

Supreme Court: Strip searches, even for minor offenses

Siding with security needs over privacy rights, the Supreme Court ruled Monday that jailers may subject people arrested for minor offenses to invasive strip searches.

By a 5-4 vote, the court rejected a challenge from a New Jersey man who argued it's unconstitutional to force everyone to strip down for inspection. Albert Florence was arrested by a state trooper because of an error in the state's records that mistakenly said he was wanted on an outstanding warrant for an unpaid fine. Even if the warrant had been valid, failure to pay a fine is not a crime in New Jersey.

Florence was held for a week in two different jails before the charges were dropped. But at each jail, he was required to shower with delousing soap and undergo a strip search.

Let me repeat: Florence was held for a week in two different jails. And got strip-searched twice. For no fucking reason at all. And that's just fine with the United States Supreme Court.

I'm going to go out on a limb here and guess that the total number of United States Supreme Court justices who have been strip-searched is at or near 0. I've never been strip-searched either, and I don't particularly want to be, but I imagine it's a singularly unpleasant experience, ESPECIALLY IF YOU HAVEN'T DONE ANYTHING WRONG.

Pair this little gem up with a case a few years ago called Atwater v. City of Lago Vista, where the Supreme Court held that's it's fine to arrest you and take you into custody for a traffic offense that carries no jail time and now it's cool for the cops to arrest you for, say, jaywalking, take you to jail, and strip-search you. YAY AMERICA. Feel safe now?

Oh, here's part of their rationale:

"One of the terrorists involved in the September 11 attacks was stopped and ticketed for speeding just two days before hijacking Flight 93."

9/11. It's the gift that never stops giving. Anything the government wants to do to you can be justified by just saying the magic numbers "9" and "11." The terrorists fucking won, all right.

Exhibit B:

Illinois Traffic Stop Of Star Trek Fans Raises Concerns About Drug Searches, Police Dogs, Bad Cops

Not sure why it's important that this happened to a "Star Trek fan," but that's not really the point. This is the point:

Last December, filmmaker Terrance Huff and his friend Jon Seaton were returning to Ohio after attending a "Star Trek" convention in St. Louis. As they passed through a small town in Illinois, a police officer, Michael Reichert, pulled Huff's red PT Cruiser over to the side of the road, allegedly for an unsafe lane change. Over the next hour, Reichert interrogated the two men, employing a variety of police tactics civil rights attorneys say were aimed at tricking them into giving up their Fourth Amendment rights. Reichert conducted a sweep of Huff's car with a K-9 dog, then searched Huff's car by hand. Ultimately, he sent Huff and Seaton on their way with a warning.

The whole article is worth reading, as it's a dramatic example of what happens when the War on Drugs affects white people. Replace "Star Trek fans" with "any black person" and it's something that happens every day in America. Anyway, whatever gets this kind of BS noticed.

This really shouldn't even be a political or partisan issue. I would hope that even Tea Party types would realize that the "freedom" and "liberty" they claim to revere is getting taken away every day by the invocation of two words: "terrorism" and "drugs." We are all truly fucked.

(Title ref: a true classic.)

UPDATE: So timely, DEA and IRS!

A few vignettes with Mom

Vignette 1: We are at lunch at Slanted Door. Mom asks the busboy who is filling our water glasses "What country are you from?" After initially looking somewhat surprised, he says "Mexico" and smiles and walks away. Mom says, "I would have expected him to say Nepal."

Later, as he is clearing plates, she asks him "What part of Mexico?" He says, "Yucatan," smiling broadly now. This time, after he leaves, Mom says "I was going to ask him if he enjoyed snorkeling. Snorkeling is very popular in the Yucatan. Probably more for tourists than locals, though."

Vignette 2: As we are leaving Slanted Door, we see Mom stop at the service bar, get the bartender's attention, and then talk to him. We see him initially look puzzled, then say something to her, then get back to making drinks. We ask her what that was about. "I asked him what a popular drink in San Francisco is now. He said rye and bourbon. That surprises me."

(Speaking of Slanted Door, that ginger limeade [kaffir lime vodka, ginger, lime] is delicious. But $38 for shaking beef on the lunch menu is a little ridiculous, especially since it's like 7-8 cubes of beef. Still delicious, though.)

Vignette 3: Mom and I are having lunch at King of Thai Noodle on Clement. It is moderately full. There is someone sitting directly beside us. Mom says to me, "So tell me how therapy worked for you." The guy next to us, who looks like he could be a therapist, looks at me and gives a kind of sympathetic smile. I tell Mom I'd rather talk about it later, in a more private setting. "Who's going to hear?" she asks. She nods at the the guy next to us. "This guy?"

Vignette 4: We are in Grace Cathedral. A very nicely dressed woman in her mid-30's is there with two little girls wearing very fancy dresses. Mom says "Don't you two look pretty!" The woman says "We just came from high tea at the Fairmont. Now we're going to see where Mommy got married." After some more oohing and ahhing over the fancy dresses, the woman and the girls walk away. Mom says, "She must be their nanny."

Vignette 5: I find out that Mom has been secretly feeding our dog peanuts. (While peanuts aren't toxic to dogs, you don't want to give them too many, and I had no idea how long this had been going on.) I asked Mom not to feed him peanuts. She said, "Well, when you were a little boy, our dog [a 10 or 12 pound cocker spaniel/poodle/pekinese mix] ate a 5-pound Hershey's kiss and she was fine. So what's the problem?"

(I have no idea if this actually happened, BTW. Mom tends to either remember things very differently than I do or create entire incidents out of whole cloth in her mind.)

Ah, well. Bon voyage, Mom!

Serving California and the world – since 2008

Dear Loyal Customer,

We admit it. We made a mistake.

We know you’ve come to count on 40 Going On 28’s wry blend of news, information, and humor, and you’re understandably distressed when there are no new posts for a while. You feel like you’re not getting the service you’ve paid for, and you’re right.

Although we hate to make excuses, we have to tell you that the last few weeks have been kind of a trial and whatnot. We’ve been in the process of completing a rather complex transaction we’ll tell you more about later, but suffice it to say at this point that we’ve been dealing pretty much 24/7 with a parade of idiots that make your typical preschool class look like a meeting of Phi Beta Kappa at M.I.T. Seriously, it is sort of mind-boggling that the people who are in charge of managing one of the most complicated things you’ll ever take part in can’t figure out what the fuck they’re doing. It’s frustrating!

But we know what you’re thinking. “Boo hoo, like I give a shit. WHERE’S MY CONTENT.” Fair enough. We’ll be back on track pretty soon with all the rage and bile you’ve come to expect and need.

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TK