3rd leg
Reality Check

Thursday, January 30, 2003

We’ve all done things we’re not proud of, right? I heard Gandhi snuck a couple of grapes during one of his hunger strikes, Mother Theresa was an aggressive driver known for flipping the bird at tailgaters and sometimes Martin Luther King, Jr.’s dreams were actually unsuitable for public address and reflection.

Now not only has Fox given us a former banana hammock model as the star of Joe Millionaire, but they’ve also let a little freak slip through the cracks. Don’t get me wrong, I’m down with different strokes for different folks. I’ve done a few things, and while I’ve not tied anyone up or made someone smell my feet (besides my little sister of course) I don’t really have a problem if that’s your bag.

But dude! Joe Millionaire’s Sarah, fresh off a week when she took Joe in the woods for a little sub-titled gulp and slurp action, has had her closet cleaned out by The Smoking Gun. See she’s not always Sarah Kozner. Sometimes she kicks it as Cindy Schubert, like Alias style. And sometimes she stars in movies with titles like Novices in Knots, Helpless Heroines, Hogtied, and ,Dirty Soled Dolls. Sometimes she’s the captor, sometimes she’s duct-taped, bound and gagged. I just hope the checks didn’t bounce. Now I'm really hoping she beats frizzy Melissa and bora Zora. Who else deserves the 'Um, things aren't exactly as the appear' conclusion. And she's just aloof enough with an air of 'I can't believe I'm actually doing this, but check out all these cool new necklaces' to deliver the payoff trainwreck that 19 million are all hoping for.

In my opinion as dirty as that may be, it’s not nearly as embarrassing as being called Punka by your family on national TV like The Bachelorette’s Russ was on Wednesday. By the way he still thinks he’s in and that he and Trista were meant to be. Whatever freak.

And being called Punka, is only ever so slightly less embarrassing then bringing a camera crew to your shithole, mouse-infested, itty bitty apartment in New York City. Greg’s supposed to be an importer, maybe he should spend more time importing shit and leave the song lyrics and raps to the professionals…

By the way I'm hoping Ryan, but I'm pretty sure it's gonna be Charlie.

The lesson to be learned here is simple. People not named Clinton learned long ago, that if you don’t want your darkest secrets revealed, then don’t go in to politics. Now it also means don’t go on a reality televison show. And for the love of God, stop videotaping yourself! Didn’t Rob Lowe, R. Kelly, Pamela and Tommy teach us anything?!?!?!?!

Last note: I need a new freakin’ banner. For the interested, qualified graphic artist wannabe with a little free time on their hands I offer this modest proposition. Give me a cool ass Blogger-friendly banner (I’ve got a good and specific idea of what I’d like) and I’ll dedicate an entire rhyme to you written in first person form so that you can take it as your own, memorize it, and with a little practice impress your friends and family at dinner parties and get togethers. I’ll also give you prominent and eternal link love… Hit my email and link me with any examples of your work that’ll rock my socks off…

Mad Pony's back...

Girls are Dumb

Tuesday, January 28, 2003

Let me clarify as the original title for this post was Girls Are Stupid. I like girls, really I do. They’re one of my favorite things, somewhere between Duke Basketball and Red Bull. And it’s not even that I think men are superior to women in any way. But sometimes you ladies need to check yourselves. A couple of cases in point from Monday Night alone:

You cry too much!- In the grand scheme of things, some of the things that make you cry are truly ridiculous and petty. Like the Real World/Road Rules Battle of the Sexes. In case you have no love for MTV, I’ll explain. It’s a Survivor style challenge where each week a member of the guys team and a member of the girls team gets sent packing from their all expenses paid vacation in Jamaica. Problem is every week the women cry when forced to eliminate one of their own. Why??? Do they think they’ll never see these people again? Half of them live in Cali! And the entire shoot was 30 days, meaning that even if your best bud got voted off the first week, it would still be less than a month before you could see them again. And every one has a complimentary cell phone! So give them a call or text message them, you’re not giving them a death sentence for the love of God! Get over it!

You just don’t get it!- Guys are awfully easy to read, and should normally be putty in the hands of any female. Especially good looking ones with hard bodies. Like Joe Millionaire’s Mojo. Rather than use her sex appeal to land a man, she starts ‘sharing’ including the fact that she’s written herself a check for one million dollars (a la Drew Carey) and that it’s her goal to cash said check in 5 years. That doesn’t signal to a guy that they’re in the presence of an ambitious, goal-oriented woman. It says this chick is all about the money. And even if Joe had money, he’d have a reduced opinion of Mojo.

You have horrible taste!- I get the appeal of a bad boy. What I don’t get is when you have multiple choices and opportunities to give it a go with Mr. Right, that you still opt for the guy that’s wrong with you. The Bachelorette’s Trista has let Greg and Russ get to the Final Four taking the spots of any number of more deserving guys, like fun-loving, big-boned Bob. Russ is a sleazy player who monopilizes her time and is probably brain-washing her, and Greg is wooing her with the promise of a song that he may or may not have actually written for her. We’ve yet to hear him play and I can only hope we’re in for an Animal House guitar goof on the stairs scene. But he’s got really great eyes! Whatever Trista. What’s worse is her friends aren’t even looking out for her. They didn’t see what the fuss was about Russ, and rather than pick a guy they thought was better for her to take her on one of her three private dates, they let the sleazeball get on the Blimp with her.

And last but certainly not least…

Your priorities are out of whack!- True Fox’s Bridezillas showed only the most extreme (I hope) brides-to-be and their neurotic, obsessive behaviors while planning their big day. Even if you spent your whole childhood dreaming of your day to be a princess, there’s a prince involved too. And the more you act like one of the ugly stepsisters, the more he’s going to feel like he’s making the most regrettable decision of his life. And unlike girls, guys will watch out for their boy. And even if he goes through with it against his friends' guidance, they’ll forever remember you as the wicked witch of the west that has cast a spell over a friend they’re sure to see less and less of as she exerts her power and control. Wouldn’t you rather be treated like a princess every day, and not just on the day of your nuptials? Of course you would…So if a wedding’s in your future, keep that in mind. It’s his big day too… And even if all he cares about is having meatballs, buffalo wings, and an open bar at the reception, that’s no reason to not entertain his suggestions or thoughts about any other part of the process. Especially if he’s writing the checks…

Anger Management

Monday, January 27, 2003

Potential foes should prepare themselves because my fuse is getting shorter by the second. I have no doubt that one day I’ll be one of those guys you read about that blows a gasket and grabs a nine iron, or Demarini softball bat and goes Nicholson on some idiot driver’s windshield.

Luckily I was unarmed during a screening of Adaptation this weekend. In my row five seats away was a middle aged woman who between her popcorn and unopened box of candy made just enough noise to take my full attention from the screen no less than 7 times.

Then there was the senior woman one row in front of me who’s loud, annoying cackle kept me from hearing the next line after the movie’s funniest moments like, "Fuck fish!".

But the worst were the two guys who sat in the row behind me who each took calls on their cell phones during the movie. Had I consumed any alcohol with dinner, or possessed a permit to carry a concealed weapon, both of these guys would have been toast. Actually I would have hoped the second guy would have learned his lesson after I deal with the first one with great vengeance and furious anger.

Here’s my problem---I understand that some people have professions or situations that require them to be accessible 24/7. But I don’t believe there’s any cell phone on today’s market without a vibrate function. I also don’t believe that those very busy/very important guys couldn’t sit at the end of an aisle, and sprinted down the steps and out the theatre before answering the phone.

Luckily, I was with a female who didn’t encourage my aggression like any number of my friends would have done. I’d like to think maybe I’m doing a little adapting on my own, but I can only think about how I’ll deal with similar situations in the near future---and none of them are good.

So please for the love of God, pretty please, with sugar on top, shut the hell up during the movie, open your candy and eat the majority of your popcorn during the previews, and switch your fuckin’ phones to vibrate!!!

Thanks and have a pleasant tomorrow and get thee to Adaptation---one of the most uniquely creative movies I’ve ever seen.