Please meet these former Miss California contestants

For complicated and boring reasons, I recently had the occasion to come across the Miss California website which features all of last year's contestants and all I have to say is wow. I think my favorite thing about it is that it appears that the contestants have made a concerted effort to look like the area they're representing. You know how like on Miss Universe they're always wearing their colorful native garb? Same thing.

They're also from very very specific geographic areas! Like, this is Charlotte Giustiniani, from "North Brentwood." Not Brentwood, mind you, but NORTH Brentwood:

WHOA, BRITTANY HIGH FROM LARCHMONT VILLAGE,I just got arrested for looking at your picture. Did someone offer you candy or something to come down to their basement for your photo shoot?



I gotta be careful because you know these chicks are all Googling themselves 24/7 and I don't want them to find my blog and then go "Oh, what a fucking asshole," even though I'm totally used to that.

Just a couple more, though, cause this is totally fun.

Erika Robertson is from "Honey Bee Haven," which sounds like a syndicated children's TV show. She's got a real Black Swan thing going on:



OK, now you guess one. Where's Holly Doll from, you think?



Got your guess? Ready? She's Miss East Sacramento! I know, right?

I got one more, and she's my fave. Please meet Jael Lloyd, Miss Glendale:



The headband! The peace sign tattoo! We will get high and listen to Ariel Pink on vinyl and drink homemade sangria and just have a blast. Miss Glendale doesn't care. She's down for anything.

Have a nice weekend.

Crime Report

Whoa, there is a lot of weirdness in the past 24 to 36 hours. Let's start off with Alex Trebek:

Alex Trebek, host of the television game show "Jeopardy," was injured early Tuesday as he chased a burglar in his San Francisco hotel.

The longtime game show host appeared on crutches Wednesday to host the National Geographic World Championship at Google Inc.'s Mountain View headquarters.

"It happened at 2:30 a.m., chasing a burglar down the hallway of my San Francisco hotel, when my Achilles tendon ruptured and I then fell on carpet, bruising the other leg in process. Surgery on Friday," Trebek said, according to Patch.com. A spokeswoman at the Marriott Marquis confirmed the incident took place at that hotel.

San Francisco police officials confirmed a burglary at a San Francisco hotel early Tuesday, but would not identify Trebek, 71, as the victim. Lt. Troy Dangerfield said two people were asleep in a hotel room when "around 3 a.m., one of the victims awoke to notice someone in the room and then noticed the suspect leaving the hotel room."

Hmmmm. Does anything about this sound perhaps maybe somewhat suspicious to you? I mean, how does some rando chick get into a hotel room in the middle of the night? I dfon't know about you, but I always use every goddam locking mechanism they have on the doors, and there's always one that keeps the door from being opened from the outside, like a chain or that weird U-lock thing that flips over the knob thing fuck I don't know what it's called but you know what I'm talking about.

Now, I don't want to engage in rank speculation, but I just want to say that it's possible - possible - that Alex and his +1 met the suspect, "Lucinda Moyers," at the View Lounge and closed that place and then maybe suggested they blow a couple of rails back in Alex's room and everyone was having a good time when Alex went to the bathroom and the +1 was otherwise engaged and Lucinda thought she'd make a break for it and grabbed his wallet and took off and Alex came out and was all "WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT BITCH DOING" and took off down the hall and ruptured his Achilles. PROBABLY NOT, but I'm just saying it's possible.

I also love the pic that SFGate went with:

No flash photography! I'm doing key bumps over here! Aaaahhhhh! Bright light!

Let us now turn to the world of Aviation. Regular readers of this space are well-aware of my sometime troubles with Air Travel. I tried communicating with the airline, but by then the troubles have long passed and I'm not that mad anymore. Brothers "Jonathan and Luis Baez, both of Las Piedras, Puerto Rico," have a way of more directly and immediately communicating their dissatisfaction with their carrier: punch out the fucking pilot!!!!

A man punched an American Airlines pilot who kicked him off a flight from Miami, and he and his brother then attacked the pilot again before bystanders tackled the brothers in the terminal, officials said Thursday.

Jonathan and Luis Baez, both of Las Piedras, Puerto Rico, were arrested at Miami International Airport. They had been aboard American Airlines Flight 1755 bound for San Francisco on Wednesday night, according to an arrest affidavit.

While the plane taxied away from the gate, a flight attendant noticed 27-year-old Jonathan Baez was sleeping and had not buckled his seat belt, police said. She tried to wake him, but she told police that Baez was unresponsive and appeared to be intoxicated or on drugs.

The pilot turned the plane around and returned to gate D51.

Luis Baez, 29, decided to join his brother as he was being escorted off the plane. As the brothers walked toward the aircraft's exit door, they became belligerent, and Luis Baez told the pilot, "When you fly to San Juan I will have you killed," according to the arrest report.

The brothers walked off the plane, but then Jonathan Baez returned and punched the pilot in the face and hit the flight attendant in the shoulder when she tried to intervene, police said.

Both brothers attacked the pilot again in the jet bridge and chased him in the terminal, according to the arrest report.

Other flight crew members and passengers held down the brothers until police arrived.

The only appropriate sentence in a case like this: middle seats between two fat guys with colds for life.

Finally, let us turn to a crime that is shocking in the extreme because it occurred at a place where so many of us feel safe: the Lagunitas Brewing Company in Petaluma. Some Guy from Tiburon and his girlfriend were taking the tour and whatnot when they ran into some Stranger Danger:

Officers arrested a man who was taking a tour of a brewery in Petaluma Tuesday evening after he allegedly robbed another tour member at knifepoint, police said.

Ben Davis, 26, of Windsor allegedly befriended the victim, a 24-year-old Tiburon man, and his girlfriend while taking a tour of the Lagunitas Brewing Company brewery.

Police said Davis confronted the victim with a knife in a restroom during the tour and demanded his wallet.

Davis allegedly took the wallet, left the brewery and drove away. Officers responded to the brewery around 5:20 p.m. and learned that the victim's girlfriend had taken a picture of Davis before the alleged robbery.

Now, I'm no Criminal Mastermind or anything, but I feel like once my victim photographs me, I'm either (a) calling off the Planned Bathroom Knife Robbery, or (b) taking the fucking camera too.

Anyway, Ben Davis of Windsor, way to harsh Tiburon Man's mellow.

Be careful out there, folks.

The Bachelorette: Fiji Is for Dumpers

Friends, we are finally reaching the end of our Journey and this is how the Crusaders probably felt, only if they were crusading for the Most Boring Stupid Pointless Thing in the World and not pieces of the True Cross or whatever. Anyway. Fiji. Ashley Chipmunk prattles on and on about how beautiful it is but it basically looks like a more rocky Hawaii to me. Lots of filler while Chippy recounts her romantic histories with the three losers we have left.

But wait! Some stranger's flip-flops and ugly fucking feet are trudging through the jungle to Shake Things Up! Apparently the producers have realized that this show is so boring it makes Masterpiece Theater look like Transformers 3 so they desperately try to inject some kind of interest or tension by bringing back that fucking loser Ryan who apparently has no bottom limit for debasement or humiliation and so he arrives and grovels and begs her to give him one more chance and you know what, producers? You fucking suck. You really do. This is the best you can do? Fuck.

OK, date thing with Ben F. He got a haircut and has now progressed up the ladder from Neanderthal to Cro-Magnon. They're heading out on a Drug Kingpin Yacht and Ben says he's "found himself on this journey" and finding yourself leads to both of them oiling each other up for what may be a bout of Greco-Cro-Magnon Wrestling but just ends up with snorkeling in about 18 inches of water while the music swells in the background and sadly no one drowns.

Outdoor dinner time. Ben opines that today was "hysterically perfect." I can't even begin to make sense of what that might mean. He's "on my way to the whole I love you thing." That's nice. I'm on my way to the Finishing This Whole Bottle of Wild Turkey Thing. Anyway blah blah blah they're off to the Fantasy Suite to get it on and it has its own private pool and whatnot and he carries her out of it like some Java Man Officer and a Gentleman and I guess they hit it.

Next up: Pumpkinhead Constantine. Helicopter ride, finally! Hilariously, the producers have them fly right over Ryan, who is standing on a reef and staring intently at the sea. God, I wish they have given them water balloons to drop on him. That's the only way this could get stupider. They land and do a little waterfall jumping and hidden pond swimming and then we get to Outdoor Dinner Time. Chipmunk wonders: How come you're not in love with me yet? Pumpkinhead says he's not gonna ask her to get married so might as well stop fucking around and he bolts. BOOM!!! She gets dumped again. This show should be called "The Bachelorette...GETS DUMPED" because that's all that happens. No, wait, that's a little clunky. How about The Dumperette? Bacheloserette? I'll work on it.

So the next day Chipmunk is going to take out her boiling rage by dropping by Ryan's room and re-dumping him. BOOM YOU ARE DUMPED MOTHERFUCKER HOW DOES THAT FEEL oh wait, he's crying! That's sad. He seems kinda stalky, like he might show up at her place in a few months with rope and duct tape in his Kidnapping Kit whoops I mean Truly In Love Kit. Anyway, lots of gazing at the ocean and this sad little diversion is over.

OK, time for JP date. Is there any question that this guy's not gonna win? Well, "win," I guess. If you could see me I'd be doing air quotes around "win." No, that's douchey, I wouldn't do that. Anyway, Chipmunk is wearing a tapestry from a stoner's dorm room that's she's cut into some kind of crop top. They seaplane out to some island where it's just them and a camera crew and boom mic guy and the guy with the light meter and then nothing happens. Let's cut to Outdoor Dinner in the Jungle. Chipmunk tells him about Constantine leaving and she's totally making it sound like she dumped him. He's into staying in the Fantasy Suite and she's clearly ready to bone down too. She changes into what I assume are some very sexual undergarments but she's wearing a shirt over the top of it so whatever.

Pre-Rose Ceremony Interview with Chris Harrison. She says this is going to be the "most important rose ceremony" but how the fuck is that? There are two guys and two roses. A fucking Roomba could successfully complete this Rose Ceremony. Oh, she thinks there'll be a lot of tension in seeing whether or not they Accept This Rose. Have you ever seen this fucking show before? Of course they accept the fucking rose. Jesus Christ.

Rose Ceremony. In a shocking twist, Ben F. spontaneously combusts and leaves a smoking pile of charred prominent browline and femur on the deck. Not really. Everyone accepts the rose. Let's move on.

TK's Better Tour of San Francisco

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Trip Report: Country Music Hall of Fame and Museum

I just got back from visiting my Dad in Tennessee for his birthday (Happy Birthday, Dad! Please stop working harder than me, you're making me look bad!) and I went to the Country Music Hall of Fame and Museum for the first time in my life and you know what? Old-time country music stars were gangsta as fuck.

Oh, before we get to that, here's the sign on the front door:

No, those aren't my sandals reflected in the front door. I don't wear fucking sandals. Those are my adidas Samoas, though. Anyway, NO WEAPONS. First museum I've ever been to where you had to be told not to bring weapons in. It sure as fuck doesn't say NO WEAPONS on the front door of the Louvre! TAKE THAT YOU PUSSY-ASS FRENCH MUSEUM!!!

Anyway, these country music guys used to booze harder and take more drugs and do more chicks than anyone else. They were basically the Motley Crue of their day.

Check out Gram Parsons' sweet Nudie suit with the marijuana leaf embroidery:



This next thing, though, blew my mind. Hank Williams shot some squirrels and then had them mounted by a taxidermist to look like they were playing in a little squirrel band and then displayed this gross little tableau in his house. My picture of it didn't turn out well, but I found this one online:



Welcome these fellas to your nightmares for the next few weeks. Anyway, Hank Williams took painkillers by the fistful and was a full-time drunk and still was one of the most most influential songwriters for both country and rock of all time.

And how about George Jones? Here, he tells it best:

Once, when I had been drunk for several days, Shirley decided she would make it physically impossible for me to buy liquor. I lived about eight miles from Beaumont and the nearest liquor store. She knew I wouldn't walk that far to get booze, so she hid the keys to every car we owned and left. But she forgot about the lawn mower. I can vaguely remember my anger at not being able to find keys to anything that moved and looking longingly out a window at a light that shone over our property. There, gleaming in the glow, was that ten-horsepower rotary engine under a seat. A key glistening in the ignition.

I imagine the top speed for that old mower was five miles per hour. It might have taken an hour and a half or more for me to get to the liquor store, but get there I did.

I fucking love George Jones. Here's some for you right now:

The Bachelorette: Anybody got a Dad they can spare?

Like Ashley Chipmunk, I am also currently on a Hometown Date, except that mine consists of drinking on my Dad's back patio until 1 a.m. in 80-degree heat and hanging out with the extended family, while Ashley's consists of a painful road trip across America where she is confronted by Greek ladies asking how soon can she drop everything and move to Atlanta because they need a waitress stat.

Anyway, I knew I said I probably couldn't do the recap but last night all of us were burnt out on boozing and so we gathered around the family TV and watched Ashley make a series of semi-awkward to outright painful visits to these losers' families. Up first is Constantine, who I was really hoping lived in a tenement in Greek Town somewhere but who sadly hails from a McMansion in a featureless suburb of Atlanta. It seems that his family runs Giorgio's but that's cool because ethnic food is ethnic food, right? Pumpkinhead and Chipmunk visit the restaurant and pretend to make food and I don't think that kitchen crew is Greek unless Greece has relocated to Oaxaca. Then we get on to the Family Portion and Mom immediately puts the screws on Chipmunk to relocate and then Dad offers that she has a "gorgeous personality" which is Greek for "I'd hit it" and then clearly at the urging of the producers they have a My Big Fat Greek Reality Show moment and do that circular dance around the dining room and then Dad makes it rain and throws money in the air like he's some old Greek 50 Cent and the whole thing is just sort of sad.

Next we're going to visit the factory where Ames was assembled! Oh, I mean Chadd's Ford, Pennsylvania, which is so white it makes "Leave It to Beaver" look like "The Wire." Ames's "family" look like leftovers from an 80's movie about preppies and his sister has a sixhead just like him and tells Chipmunk how "romantic" he is and, what, did you two used to date? Where's Dad, anyway? Oh, we find out Dad died. Then Stepdad died. This is very sad but also I hope someone looked at Ames for the Dad Murders of Chadd's Ford. Ames needs to prove that he's not gay, so natch he takes Ashley to the "most beautiful garden I know," GREAT JOB AMES just like any old straight guy would say and they have a picnic and he tries to romance her by lowering his robot head onto her face for Lip Engagement Sequence Number 47B and I think it's safe to say that Ames will be parked back in the garage at the end of this episode.

OK, off to Sonoma to meet Early Man Ben F.'s family. They tromp off to his winery to have the now-oblig. picnic and Chipmunk wants to know if there's anything she should know. "Well, actually," Ben says, "my father was a silverback gorilla," oh, no, wait, his Dad is dead too. All these dead Dads are bumming me out. OK, let's meet the fam. Well, his sister sure is a handsome lady! She assures Chipmunk that Ben is in touch with his emotions. Good thing, because Mom isn't exactly a waterfall of feeling. Something else may have happened but I kinda zoned out a little at this point and I was also playing Words With Friends at the same time. It's a good thing that whoever named Words With Friends didn't name other games too or checkers would be called Moving Discs Across a Flat Surface. But I digress.

Last stop: Long Island, to meet JP's fam. They start out with a little roller skating to "I Can't Fight This Feeling," and I guess the rights to that song are so cheap now that even "The Bachelorette" can afford them and why are we even doing this? Let's meet this family. Oh, thank God, Mom has the Classic Long Island accent. Look, JP has a Live Dad! Now we're getting somewhere. He sure doesn't say much, but at least he's still up and mobile. Everyone talks darkly about JP's last relationship and how much it fucked him up and by the way they're talking it sounded like he needed electroshock to get over this bitch and what the hell did she do? Ohhhhh, maybe that's why Dad's so quiet! Anyway, we all chow down on some lasagna and Mom hauls out the Embarrassing Photo and that's about it.

Back in LA, Chipmunk sits down with Chris Harrison and God save our fucking souls, we are going to rehash the Bentley thing one more fucking time. They recap the dates a little and it's clear that Ames is already her Gay Best Friend and they're totally going to have slumber parties and watch Audrey Hepburn movies and talk about boys.

Time for the cuts Yes, no surprise. Ames is let go and he talks about how "poetic" the whole thing has been like he could get any gayer. So the final three is Pumpkinhead and Early Man and GI Joe. Good luck with that.

Speaking of the weather....

I'm off tomorrow on a semi-brief trip to that aforementioned furnace-like middle of the country area. Here's my near future:


Looks like it might rain. No, looks like it might APOCALYPTICALLY STORM WITH SLASHING RAIN AND ANGRY BOLTS OF PURE ELECTRICITY but I guess that's hard to fit in the little columns.

Here's how my little trip might affect you:

- No Bachelorette recap on Tuesday. Probably not until Thursday, actually. I don't know how I would explain to my Dad (1) why I'm watching the Bachelorette, and (2) taking notes while doing so.

- A SHARP INCREASE in travel-related posts on Twitter if even the SLIGHTEST THING goes wrong during travel tomorrow or Tuesday.

Anyway, have a good weekend and all. Don't do anything fun without me!