Friday, April 09, 2004

Fifteen Minutes

If you saw what Glenn Beck insists upon calling "The Trump Show" last night, you know where I'm going:

I. Hate. Omarosa. Hate. Her.

My hatred of Omarosa has exploded into monumental proportions, to the point where it has actually managed to outstrip my torrid hostility towards Flo, an Amazing Race contestant whose entire strategy consisted of whining, bitching, complaining, moaning, threatening to quit, allowing her partner to do all the work....AND SHE WON. That Omarosa should shoot past Flo on my Personal Hatred of Reality Contestants Scale (and, yes, I feel the appropriate shame in possessing such a thing; it is right next to my copy of Step By Step: The Remix Album) simply hurls my entire world on its head.

On the forums of the incomparable Television Without Pity, we have actually progressed from calling Omarosa "Assorama" (her name spelled backwards, almost) to outright referring to her as "The Face of Evil." Every other contestant has generated, at most, 28 pages of commentary; Assorama has something like 145. She is off-the-charts hateable.

I find it fascinating that this episode aired on the same day Condoleezza Rice ripped up the town testifying before Congress. My girl Condi actually is everything Assorama pretends to be.

You know what we need to do, is put Assorama some sort of physical contact with Hillary Clinton, for pure evil cannot co-exist. They'd immediately destroy one other in spectacular and flammatory fashion. It'd solve all KINDS of problems.

Thursday, April 08, 2004

"You are NOT my favorite person right now."

So said my brother in law to my four day old nephew at about two o' clock in the morning. He and my sister are becoming very, very familiar with ESPN's overnight schedule.

I gave The Baby Formerly Known As Taufling his very first manicure on Monday, which was a learning experience for us both, seeing as I don't file my OWN nails. I felt Jim and I were doing well until my mother took the eensey weensey little filing board away and said, "Here. Like this. One direction." Oh. So NOT like you're sawing down a tree. I am so never reproducing.

Monday, April 05, 2004

There's a New Man In My Life

As it happens, Taufling is.... a James Gregory. He arrived in my heart at 6:51 AM on April 3 after twenty hours of labor, three hours of mighty pushing, and a very strong contribution from his Aunt Beth, who did her part by sitting in the waiting room eating SnoCaps and reading a Star Wars novel.

We call him Jim. He is quite disgruntled with everybody and everything right now, especially after what the nurses euphamistically call "the circ." He comes home from the hospital on Monday morning, after which I will immediately buy him a pony.

I now possess the first set of many, many pictures of various people holding Jim, who pretty much has two expressions, "Very Angry" and "Sleeping." I think we will keep him anyway.

Also, I am never letting a male of the speices touch me, ever, ever again. Thank you.

This just in from the DRF:

RACE 1
April 3, 2004
Maiden Special Weight

1 James Gregory
Owners: Julie and Britton
Blonde Colt, 14 hours old
Sire: Gregory Britton (Gregory Gerald)
Dam: Julie Ann (Melvin Ronald)
Breeder: Roman Catholic Church
Trainer In All Things Destructive and Fun: Aunt Beth
Pitocin, 8 lbs, 9 oz
Out of gate very slowly, stubbornly stayed on the inside, loomed boldly, strong delivery at wire
Bullet Work: 6:51 AM

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