It seems everyone these days is into social media. It's not, "Can I get your number?" any more when you meet someone. It's "Are you on Facebook?" or "Do you have a Twitter?"
Me? I have both. I had a MySpace page until I realized how socially unacceptable it was. So I deleted it. Couldn't face the mockery.
I love reading funny status updates and tweets. It's the highlight of my day. What's that? "Get a life," you say? You are correct, sir and/or madam. I should get a life. And I will. Right after I tweet that I'm going to get a life.
So in that spirit, here are some of my best tweets/updates. Please, to enjoy.
What type of toothbrush do you prefer? I like acoustic much better than electric.
Dang. What am I gonna do with this Oprah show Groupon now?
I just officially notified my boss. I'm calling in raptured Monday.
So…mankind is to be destroyed Saturday, then the earth on Oct. 21. I'd destroy the earth first so I could watch mankind float in space.
Just stubbed my toe on my desk. I know it's because I didn't forward that chain e-mail to 10 friends. Dangit.
Just saw a little spider on my calculator. Arachnerd.
Sometimes it's impossible to understand all the guy talk around me. I need to get Brosetta Stone.
I have named my computer hard drive That Thang, so once a month, my computer will ask me to back That Thang up.
Speaking as a fat-bottomed girl, I'm not altogether sure how to make the rockin' world go 'round. It's just too much pressure.
Steve Jobs needs to wax his iBrows. Just sayin'…
When I'm having a bad day, I like to think of Prince William, Prince and will.i.am introducing themselves to each other.
Why Walmart? Because going to Target requires a shower and a comb.
And finally, the wildly popular...
I'm having a great butt day today. Think I'll keep parting it in the middle.
Enjoy your Memorial Day weekend.
Ladies and gentlemen: The world is safe again. U.S. SEALs shot Osama bin Laden and, finally, Donald Trump revealed his haircare secrets.
We can all breathe a sigh of relief.
Trump was recently interviewed about his famous coif, and he said his routine is simple: he washes with Head and Shoulders, then lets it air dry for an hour, because he says he fears a blow dryer would leave his locks voluminous and puffy. Once dry, he combs it a little forward, then back.
He doesn't mention hairspray, but judging from some of the photos I've seen, there is some major shellacking going on there.
When asked about his do, Trump insists it's not a comb-over. But let's break down "The Trump"…
1. Sweep thinning front section to the side to provide a band of cover above the forehead.
2. Take the longest back section and propel it forward so that the "comb-over" lies at a 90-degree angle with the under layer, thus providing the illusion of thickness.
3. Take a third section from the top, in line with the left ear, and sweep it backwards at an angle to disguise the thinning on top.
4. To finish off the do that's really a don't, comb the hair directly over the ear backwards, making sure to not mix in any hair that might be sticking out of the ear.
5. Give the hair an ample spray with the hair shellack of your choosing. The Donald prefers to use Aqua Net, so I'm told. It holds without detracting from the glossy sheen of his golden locks.
Here's the deal, Mr. Trump: It's clearly a comb-over. You know it. We know it. Even the Pakistani people know it, and we all know they're not the brightest crayons in the box. So just admit it already.
President Barack Obama was hounded about his birth certificate, and he finally produced one. Then in April we found out it was Photoshopped and his rating in the polls dropped. Again.
Then in early May, the president got a major shot in the arm – he announced that Osama bin Laden had been shot and killed by U.S. SEALs in Pakistan.
But Islamic newspapers are reporting skepticism about the U.S. assassination of bin Laden, especially since it comes on the heels of the whole birth certificate thing.
"Only a gullible section of Americans are falling for this nonsense while the rest of the world is maintaining a healthy disbelief over the news that the al Qaida leader was killed in a compound in Abbottabad," said British journalist Yvonne Ridley, who also asked why the bin Laden's body was dumped at sea, eliminating every bit of vital evidence.
"If I were a cynic, I'd point out that it certainly has stopped people focusing on and talking about Obama's birth certificate," she said.
What Ridley has forgotten is that al Qaida has confirmed that their leader is dead, and they've vowed revenge.
Al Qaida released a statement today on militant websites, saying that Americans' "happiness will turn to sadness." There was no indication of how the militants planned to retaliate.
But is has been reported that documents detailing plans for the derailing of an American train were found in bin Laden's Pakistani hideout, and the documents stated the plans were to be carried out on the upcoming 10th anniversary of the Sept. 11 attacks.
The militants' statement also warned that the U.S. had better not mistreat bin Laden's body, or there would be hell to pay. Many, even in the U.S., have questioned why bin Laden's body was buried at sea, and why so quickly.
Here's the deal: the reason is that Islamic tradition calls for a deceased person to be buried within 24 hours. The U.S., in other words, treated bin Laden's body better than he would have treated any American.
But why at sea? If you were the leader of a country, any country, would you want bin Laden to be buried in your backyard? There's also speculation that no matter where he was buried, that spot would become both a place of worship and a place of violence.
As for Ridley's claims, let us just say, we Americans aren't stupid. We got a DNA test. We know we got him. Period. End of discussion.
Easter probably conjures up images of little girls in sweet spring dresses, wearing little hats and brand new white shoes, and little boys in sweet little suits with shorts instead of long pants. You probably think of Easter egg hunts, chocolate bunnies and baskets filled with goodies on top of that plastic stuff that's green and is supposed to represent grass.
Another common tradition we all share is getting a picture taken with the Easter Bunny. Kids react in one of two ways to the giant Easter icon, just like at Christmas: They either love him or scream. There's no gray area when it comes to photography mixed with strangers in costume.
It's my experience that the Easter Bunny is silent, much like the characters at Disney or the mascots at sporting events. Rumor is that they don't speak so as to not ruin the mystique. I think they're terrified of being "outed." Wouldn't you be, if you were walking around dressed as a giant rabbit with a purple vest and bow tie?
I was thinking about the Easter Bunny, and what he might say if he did speak. What questions would he ask? What would his commentary be? Would he offer words of wisdom? Here's what I've got:
• I was robbed. Santa gets cookies, which are better than carrots.
• You owe me. I had an "oopsie" on your husband's bowling shirt – you know, the one you hate.
• Please dispose of your "Fatal Attraction" DVD. It gives me the willies.
• Before you bring your kid to see me at the mall, be sure the kid hasn't just had a 40-ounce Big Gulp and an entire pack of Pixie Stix.
• Peeps are like speed. Adults should partake.
• No, I do not "bedazzle" eggs.
• For the last time: I will not deliver Edward or Jacob wrapped in cellophane.
You know…God likes women. In fact, he loves them. And now we have proof.
A San Francisco man went into an adult video store Wednesday night and mysteriously caught fire. He just…burst into flames. He ran out of the store and into the street, where police officers who were right across the street saw him and called for firefighters.
The man was apparently in a private booth, watching videos, when the blaze, um, erupted. Insert perverted joke here.
Spontaneous combustion is not a new thing. It occurs without any external ignition source, and is usually a slow process that can take several hours of decomposition or oxidation, with heat building up to the point of ignition.
In humans, this phenomenon has been a rumored and often reported event, but there is limited evidence, and the events are generally considered urban legends, or cases of combustion through external means.
The first account of spontaneous human combustion was in 1663, when a woman in Paris just went up in ashes and smoke while she was sleeping. The straw mattress on which she was sleeping was untouched.
There have been hundreds of accounts since that time and they're all the same: the victim is almost completely consumed, usually inside his or her home. There's always a sweet, smoky smell in the room after the fire is out. And there's never any conclusive reason given as to what happened.
Ladies, we all know how the fire started. God sent that sinner on fire. He was in a porn store, watching porn, and sinning against women everywhere, so God lit that sucker on fire.
And with this refining fire comes justice. All is right in female land again. And to men everywhere…remember…God is always watching you.
My niece has been taught that stupid is a bad word. It's negative and shouldn't be used to describe anyone or as an insult toward anyone.
But you know, there are times it's just appropriate.
Police in Narragansett, R.I. have arrested a local man and charged him with credit card theft after he sent a thank you note and flowers to his victim. Yep. He sent the woman flowers and a thank you note. After he charged $2,400 to her credit card.
Another less-than-smart dude has arrested after he posted videos of himself teaching his 15-year-old nephew how to roll and smoke marijuana. How nice of this uncle to train up his nephew in the ways of wacky tobacky.
Perhaps one of the best dumb criminal stories I've heard lately happened in Dallas, Texas. Two burglars broke into a store that sells high-end security equipment. The images of the two men robbing the store were captured on 17 different cameras.
Hello! Never break into a security equipment store. Duh!
But my favorite is the guy who went into a drugstore, announced he was going to rob the place, and then proceeded to pull a Hefty garbage bag over his head, to conceal his identity.
He had neglected to cut eyeholes.
Stupid ought to hurt. It just ought to.
Betty White is my hero. She's a genius. Pure and simple.
The 89-ear-old has just inked a deal to film 12 episodes of her new hidden camera show, "Betty White's Off Their Rockers," in which senior adults will play pranks on much younger victims.
Genius, I tell you.
It oughtta be called, "Punk'd Whippersnappers." Whatever they call it, I'm watching.
I'm pretty much over pollen. It's had me sneezing for weeks, and I've had a headache for days. Now I have a backache. I'm blaming the pollen for that, too.
I am enjoying spring, though. Is it just me or does everything seem greener this year? Guess it's just me.
There's a crazed redbird that is continuously pecking on my window each day. All day. Every day.
While it is true that the bird has mad rhythm skills, I do worry about the little booger. What does he think he's doing? What's going through his little bird brain? Obviously, he can see himself and is attacking as a result.
But what does this say about the little guy? Doesn't he like himself? Does he need therapy? I'm sure we could all chip in and help him if he can't afford it.
Until we can get you into therapy, little guy, back off. You're only hurting yourself.
While the world gawks at the crisis in Japan and scrambles to lend a hand, it's good to know there's something we can all share a laugh over. That something is a video released by 13-year-old Rebecca Black.
The Los Angeles native has signed on with Ark Music Factory in L.A., a company that will, if your daddy will pay for it, make you a star. With millions of hits on YouTube, it appears that Black has become, even if for the wrong reasons, a star. At least for 15 minutes or so.
The song is called, "Friday," and it hasn't gone viral because it's great. It's gone viral because it's laughably bad. Some have even called it the "world's worst song."
To be fair, it must be noted that the girl is only 13, and singing about choosing whether to sit in the back or front seat of a car on a Friday is quite the dilemma for someone of that age. The song contains lyrics that are, well, less than cerebral. She uses the word "Friday" 27 times, "yeah" 21 times, "fun" 20 times, "weekend" 18 times, and "partying" 17 times.
That's not even the worst part of the song. She reveals her firm grasp of the obvious when she sings "yesterday was Thursday, today is Friday…tomorrow is Saturday…and Sunday comes afterwards…"
The song has spawned several parodies, including one by Mike Bauer, who took a page from talk show host Jimmy Fallon and re-did the song Bob Dylan style.
Will all of this negative attention hurt Black? We doubt it. Other kids have been exposed to this kind of mockery in the Internet universe, and they've lived to tell about it. She'll survive.
Black's parents obviously believed in their little girl's musical abilities, and we'd all benefit from taking a page from their parenting booklet. Stay focused on your goals and stick to what you believe is best for you. Wear clean underwear every day, brush your teeth, and call your mother once a week. And for heaven's sake, make sure you can recite the days of the week, in the right order.
And when you feel like you just can't survive one more day, remember that it's Friday, and you can have fun. At least 20 times.
If Live Nation has its way, you could purchase your very own tiger blood machete, just in time for Christmas.
There's no disputing that Charlie Sheen's rants have made international headlines in the past couple of weeks. His rants have spawned numerous parodies on the late night talk shows, as well as comedy behemoth, "Saturday Night Live," which featured cast member Bill Hader as Sheen hosting his own talk show just this past weekend.
Now Live Nation has apparently inked a deal with Sheen to put his catchphrases on mugs, T-shirts and whatever else they think will sell. They plan to place these Sheen-tastic goodies in stores like Wal-Mart, Target and Hot Topic.
The fact that the actor's insane ravings will now make him money is disturbing enough. But apparently, that's not enough for him. Sheen wants to share his ideas with the world, not just on a T-shirt, but in person. That's right. In. Person.
Charlie Sheen wants to go on tour.
When Justin Timberlake confessed during the Oscars that he's Banksy, people all over the world did two things: they laughed and they asked, "Who's Banksy?"
Banksy is an anonymous English graffiti artist, political activist and painter. His work can be seen all over the world, yet his identity somehow has remained a mystery. He paints on streets, walls and bridges, among other things, and his work reflects an irreverent and dark sense of humor, and often have political and social overtones.
The artist is reportedly from Bristol, England. He supposedly trained as a butcher, but became involved in graffiti during the great Bristol aerosol boom of the late 1980s. He's made headlines in recent days for his film, "Exit Through the Gift Shop," which debuted at the 2010 Sundance Film Festival. The film, billed as "the world's first street art disaster movie," was nominated for an Academy Award for Best Documentary in this year's Oscars.
Some of his most famous pieces, include the following:
• At London Zoo, he climbed into the penguin habitat and painted, "We're bored of fish" in letters 7 feet high.
• At Bristol Zoo, he painted, "I want out. This place is too cold. Keeper smells. Boring, boring, boring" in the elephant enclosure.
• A primitive cave painting featuring a human figure hunting wildlife while pushing a shopping cart was hung in the British Museum. Once they discovered it, they made it part of their permanent collection.
• Five hundred copies of Paris Hilton's debut CD, "Paris," were replaced in 48 UK stores with a cover he designed and remix titles like, "Why am I famous?" and "What have I done?"
• He created a controversial opening for the animated series, "The Simpsons."
Banksy hasn't officially commented on his identity, other than to say "I am unable to comment on who may or may not be Banksy, but anyone described as being 'good at drawing' doesn't sound like Banksy to me.
While Banksy has a cult following, he also has critics. Many say his work is simply vandalism, and point out that it's illegal. Those same critics say his work glorifies vandalism, and encourages others to pursue the activity.
Whatever. We think the guy's a genius. Don't ever reveal yourself, Banksy. We love you not for who you are, but for what you do. You make us think.
When I was a kid, I sometimes saw older people hunched over and walking very slowly. I always felt sorry for them. Especially for the ones who were obviously in pain.
These days, I feel like an old person, hunched over and obviously in pain. Getting older is not for sissies.
Back in the early 1990s, I walked in my sleep. I hadn't done it since I was a kid. But for some reason, I did one night, and I was rudely awakened when my backside landed squarely on the bottom stair of the townhouse I shared with my roommate, Teresa. She heard what she thought was a gunshot, and jumped out of bed and came running. I was quite proud. It took a major noise to wake that one up.
The noise she heard wasn't a gunshot. It was my tailbone breaking. The sound is one I'll never forget. I can't. My back won't let me.
Since they can't exactly put your butt in a cast, all doctors could do was help me manage the pain. They gave me morphine, which I have to say, is good stuff.
We had a party planned, with about a dozen of our friends. Since I couldn't make it back upstairs, Teresa had brought upstairs to me. I put on some sweats, took my medicine, and put on a smile, prepared for our guests. I remember nothing after that.
According to Teresa, and several of our friends, I was pretty much knocked out. I laid down in the floor, leaning against this big, green beanbag chair I had at the time, and slept. With a big dumb grin on my face. They used me as a coffee table, so I'm told.
Like I said, that there morphine is good stuff.
Since that time, I periodically have back pain. It usually starts out minor, because of something minor. This time, I cleaned the bathtub, and when I stood up, something just gave way. I was in some pain yesterday, but today, it's on.
The funny thing - and I mean funny ironically, not funny ha-ha - is that people are always telling me, "You're just going to have to be more careful."
Excuse me, but how is this possible? I can't just not live my life. I have stuff to do, and since my maid, chauffeur, cook, valet, butler and personal assistant all quit, I have to do it. I can't stop living for fear of hurting my back. And I won't live in fear.
Fact is, most of the time, I don't hurt. And I'm fairly careful. I don't lift heavy things, and I know my limits. I say no when I need to. When I begin to hurt, I stop. When I need to rest, I do so. I do my regular stretching exercises for my back.
The doctors have told me that I have a small piece of bone near the sciatic nerve on the left side, and that appears to be the culprit. Every now and again, I'll move just the right way, and that piece of bone pushes against that nerve, and my back, as well as down my left leg, becomes painful. Short of surgery, there's really nothing they can do.
And I ain't going through surgery.
So...here I sit, uncomfortable and with a pain in my back and left leg...again. It's more like a pain in my butt.
Ironic. That's where it all started.
A cyclist in Washington state gave new meaning to the phrase "road rage" when he threw his bike at a Volvo after the driver honked at him.
Chad Olson, 42, of Redmond, threw his bike, smashing the window, after the driver honked his horn. Olson then left the scene before police arrived, but he returned and said he wanted to report an incident of road rage. He said any damage to the car was the result of self defense when the driver, Ben Han, 46, tried to run him over in the Volvo.
Han said he and his wife were driving when the came upon Olson, who Han said was weaving between the bike lane and the roadway. Han honked a warning, he said, and drove ahead of Olson. Han said Olson then chased them and damaged his car at a stoplight.
According to a police report, about $5,700 worth of damage was done to the Volvo. No word yet on the damage done to Han's ego for getting chased down in his Volvo by a guy on a bike.
Another bike rider, Justin Triano of San Jose, Calif., has a much better attitude, and he found a much better use of his time.
Triano, a member of the Bike Party, a group that hosts bike rides in costume, organized a flash mob via Twitter feeds and Facebook posts. The group gathered in downtown San Jose for a pillow fight.
Wearing tutus, gorilla suits and pajamas, the group beat each other silly with pillows, sending feathers and laughter flying. The event was touted as a community-building exercise, and it added a new element of fun to the downtown area.
The feather-fest was fun, Triano said.
"We work hard Monday through Friday. We really want to have fun," he said.
I agree, and I have a rather large feather pillow. Anybody game?
It never ceases to amaze me how people can post one video on YouTube and become an overnight sensation. There are a couple out there right now that I just find absolutely hysterical and I thoroughly enjoy.
The first of those is Julian Smith. You can YouTube his videos, but he's so up-town now that he has his own Web site. You can view his GENIUS videos at www.juliansmith.tv. The videos are wacky and out there, and people fall into one of two camps…they either get them or they don't.
The first time I heard anything about Smith was when someone e-mailed me the link to his Techno Jeep video. It. Was. Awesome. So I googled the dude, and have since found a treasure trove of videos. Which he does, all for me.
My recommendations for your viewing pleasure? Well, everyone who views Smith's offerings will have their favorites, but I'd go with "Malk," "Jellyfish," and "Racist Coffee," followed by a smattering of "25 Things I Hate About Facebook," and "Grandma Like Whoa."
The other person getting a lot of attention for his YouTube posts is Keenan Cahill. This kid's formula is simple: he lip syncs to popular tunes. And in the process, his posts have garnered millions of hits, and some of the artists have even appeared with him in the videos. It's crazy. You should definitely check him out.
One even recently tweeted the kid – Jersey Shore's DJ Pauly D. He asked the kid to "fist pump" with him to his song, "Beat Dat Beat." The video was posted Feb. 6, and it already has nearly 600,000 views. His video of Usher's "DJ Got Us Fallin' In Love" had 11,790,000 hits. Crazy.
Chicago-born Cahill is 15, and has a rare genetic disorder called Mariteaux-Lamy Syndrome. This caused him to have a shortened trunk, restricted movement and a stop in growth at about age 8. But it hasn't stopped Cahill from getting his groove on.
Cahill first posted on YouTube in October 2009, lip syncing to "When You Look Me In The Eyes," a Jonas Brothers song. He's posted tons of videos since. He's well worth looking up. And the kid has his own site now. You can find him at www.keenansroom.com.
I don't know exactly what constitutes an overnight sensation online. I just know I want to be one when I grow up.
Look out, Keenan. I'm coming for you.
According to reports online, today is Bubble Wrap Appreciation Day. Yep. Seriously.
The day to celebrate all things plastic, bubbly and, well, wrappy, was started by a Bloomington, Indiana radio station, and this year marks the 10th annual observance. To celebrate everyone's favorite stress-reliever, here are some facts you may not have known about bubble wrap…
Bubble wrap was first invented as a wallpaper in 1957, by two engineers in Hawthorne, N.J. They were trying to make plastic wallpaper with a paper backing. The product didn't take off.
But the duo later realized that their product could be used as a cushioning packaging material. At that time, only abrasive paper products were used for packaging, and they did nothing for protecting and cushioning heavy or delicate items.
The engineers, Marc Chavannes and Al Fielding, raised $9,000 to fund a developmental production line, and they later formed Sealed Air Corporation, which is now the worldwide leader in bubble wrap.
These days, people do more with bubble wrap than just insulate items they're shipping. It's been used for making sculpture, for pranking, for making prom dresses, for dancing on and yes, it's very often used by those who just enjoy popping the bubbles. There's even an iPad and iPhone app that allows you to virtually pop the addictive stuff.
You say there's a better product out there for packing and shipping? Foam peanuts? Pish tosh. Ever try to pop a foam peanut?
Yeah. We didn't think so.
While looking at the animal hats at Urban Outfitter's Web site – you know, the cute hats with the ear flaps and long strings with pom-poms on the end (I'm partial to the sock monkey one) – I found something that just made me drop my jaw. And not in a good way.
For a mere $45, you can buy yourself some sun in a jar. Yep. Sun in a jar. The item is basically a mason jar with a solar-charged, high-tech energy efficient LED lamp attached. According to the site, it "generates soft, natural light in a very appealing package."
You're supposed to place the Sun Jar in direct sunlight during the day, so it can soak up the sun. Then you can enjoy your "captured" sunlight all night. It's just "perfect" for your patio or in your garden, and is "quietly reassuring as a nightlight in a bedroom."
Are you kidding me? Seriously?
How about this…how about you get outside and soak up some sunlight for yourself? We are raising a generation of kids who are part mole – they can't see in the sunlight and they're pale from lack of it. Thank you video games and social networking, as well as texting.
Instead of capturing sunlight in a jar, go out and enjoy some of the real stuff. You'll be amazed how your vision will clear up. And you'll see just how dumb this waste of $45 is.
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