You know, I don’t really delve into current events on this thing, mostly because I’m a ditzy airhead who prefers to tell you the color of her nail polish (OPI’s Rock And Roll Red as of this writing, in case you’re interested) than discuss foreign policy, but every once in awhile, I pull my head up out of the sand and blink, amazed at the world and the country in which I live.
It’s all very embarrassing. I suspect that at cocktail parties, the other countries all watch America stuff its face with mozzarella sticks at the buffet line and they just snicker and roll their eyes. And then Wales says to Egypt ‘You know, they tried to protest by changing the name of FRENCH FRIES. Can you even IMAGINE? Honestly, we wouldn’t even invite them to these affairs, but they do have Hollywood, so we can’t just blow them to smithereens. Have you tried the pate? It’s divine.’ And Britain is telling Sweden ‘I know, we normally wouldn’t even TALK with them but, well, you know how it goes.’ And of course, France looks smashing without even trying, and hangs out with Italy, Brazil, and strangely enough, Luxembourg, at the cool country table, meanwhile America has spinach stuck in its teeth and is using its pinky finger to dig wax out of its ear. And then smelling it.
And God help me, every time I see the President talk, he reminds me of the president of a fraternity I was acquainted with in college. He was only in college because his father was in the administration. What is more, at age 24, he had a taste for veal, so to speak, and had been able to hush at least three tawdry little incidents of deflowering 15- and 16-year-olds. I suspect he was too banal and insipid for girls of legal age. So every time I see GW up there talking about ‘evil doers’, he has that same earnest look on his face that the TKE president had when trying to convince his frat brothers that his date was actually 19 and just looked young for her age and couldn’t drive because she was on medication. Not to mention the fact that every time GW says ‘evil doers’, my brain turns it into ‘eva doors’ so he sounds like Nell and I expect him to start with the Tae ina Weend too.
Gah. Mofo politicians. Remember when our biggest worry was where our President was sticking his cigar? Remember? We were so innocent then. We had no idea how stupid things could get, with the Freedom Toast and the Evil Doers. Not to mention stupidly deadly, with Rachel Corrie getting rolled over by a bulldozer. On purpose. And then my Abby Hoffman brain voice sarcastically adds ‘Oh, don’t fret, it’s not like you live in a country headed by a leader you didn’t elect’. Oh wait’.’ And then he snickers because that Abby Hoffman, he knows how to make a point. I wish he had stuck around instead of offing himself in 1989. He missed all of the fun.
This French thing? The French fries and the French dressing? I cannot even believe it. It’s ridiculous. Evany is right’ it’s like the folks at the Onion found a way to pull an elaborate prank. I watched Amelie the other night in protest to the protest. I also would have had salad with lovely orange Imperialistic Dog Dressing, but Special K with soy milk won out, as it was even less work than dumping bagged salad into a bowl, followed by grape tomatoes, feta cheese crumbles and sliced mushrooms. Mostly because it didn’t give me stinky feta fingers. But if we get pissed at Greece, I am so there with the feta. And then for a snack I had a crumpet, which isn’t French, but is a lot more froo-froo than my other option, an English muffin. I may burst into a song, perhaps from Les Miserables.
You want to incite a fat girl to revolution? Start messing with the food. Viva la Resistance’!
You don’t think the Freedom Fry thing will stick? Persians, a sweet pastry donut thingy, were renamed in homage to Admiral Pershing during I believe WWII. They used to be called something else. I think Berliners, or Some Other German Town-ers but I just spent entirely too much time looking for it on Google to no avail but I’m certain someone will have the answer in the comments section. I did learn entirely too much about Admiral Pershing though and my head feels all full of boy stuff now so I must go gaze at some Hello Kitty stuff until my girl pH is back in balance.
Ah. Much better.
Anyway, there it is. Disgruntled with my country and thinking about moving to Canada, because hey, anywhere that loves monkies and gave us Wangitude and the formidable 12% Beer can’t be all that bad, right?
So, errm’carry on.
Oh, I made a goofy little quiz. You can click on the button that doesn’t look like you should be able to click on it but don’t forget to come back and spill how you scored in the comments section.
