This Is How You Should Know the Obama "Single Moms" Grant Isn't Real

I'm just spitballing here... but I would think you'd want to show enterprising young moms with kids in the park, having a debtfree picnic on a sunny day, not baby's first exposure to crack rocks.

Ooh La La!

Yeah, they're BOTH totally checking her out. Rock on with your bad self, Obama! Ps... anyone else think Sarkozy is the least French-sounding name ever?

ZOMG Could There Really Be a Renesmee On the Way?

According to Australia's New Weekly (because Australia has its thumb on the pulse of pop culture), Kristen Stewart got knocked up by Robert Pattinson.

An "insider" quoted by Australia's New Weekly says, "When [Stewart] worked out she was late, she obviously started to thinking that she could be pregnant. And because of the timing, she thinks Rob could be the father."
The gossip mag also reports she had a friend buy a home pregnancy test for her, and that she is "very nervous about the whole situation."

While there's a part of me that hopes they're getting it on like rabbits in a Sybaris... Australia is breaking this story? Really?

I love how they state that she thinks Rob could be the father... like she's the biggest slut to hit the streets since Jenna Jameson.

Now if you'll all excuse me, I'm late for my meeting with the Pope. He's marrying Bradley Cooper and I this weekend, after which Braddles and I will fly away on the wings of a pegasus to dine on raindrops and cotton candy at the top of a rainbow. Lots to plan! Kisses!


Via New York Daily News.

Burger King: Mecca of Tasteful Innuendo

Frankly, I'm surprised that the word "blow" wasn't in a different color, or in bigger font size than the rest of the tagline and mayonnaise wasn't dripping from the poor girl's mouth.

I have to say... I am on the verge of saying kudos to Burger King for just saying "screw you" to everyone that is on a health kick. Or a woman. In the past few years, Burger King has done the opposite of every other fast food chain and strived to make their food as unhealthy as possible. With the Super Seven Incher, BK may as well have flipped the bird at the Surgeon General and thrown lard in his face: "Healthy lifestyle? Fuck that noise!!"

Now if you'll excuse me, I have an overwhelming urge for sausage. No idea why.

Reality TV Is Taking a Disturbing Turn.

It all started with the seemingly required proposal on The Bachelor. At least those girls got a chance to say no. This summer season of reality tv shows has me asking what the deal is with the onslaught of disturbing "throw-away marriage" reality shows? We have Hitched or Ditched on The CW, where long-term couples in a rut wait until they are on the altar to either get... you know... hitched or (wait for it) ditched.

I have also recently found an application page for a new show called Arranged Marriage, where, according to the website, "four people will ask their closest loved ones - whether family or friends - to team up and choose a spouse for them." I can't tell if this is the same show as the one that Variety reports Fox picking up I Married a Stranger! (leave it to Fox to get the most inflammatory name possible). I've been on a few blind dates set up by friends and family before, every single time, I have called the offending matchmaker of the moment with the question, "Really? Is this what you think of me?" Then I end up at home with a dozen donuts and a Jane Austen movie.

Is it so wrong to be a certain age and NOT be married? What is the requirement in this world to be legally bound to someone, damn the emotional cost? Why are we so attention-hungry to air our lonely dirty laundry in front of the world?

Also on the subject of Tacky Americans, looking for a header picture led me to some of the most misogynistic cake toppers I've ever seen. Really, ladies? Are you proud of yourselves? Here are my favorites:

The Roper. Yeehaw, cowboy. Or are you an old timey funeral director?

The Clothesliner. How DARE you run away?

The Dragger. I especially like the fingernail scratch detail in this one.

Reelin' him in. This also looks vaguely sexually inappropriate.

The classic... Shotgun Wedding! Where's that girl's pappy?? Also, Miscaketops has "The Dragger" in a variety of costumes, from fishing gear to military fatigues. Classy...

The Humper. Did I call that other one sexually inappropriate? All that's missing here is the bathroom stall.

A slightly more aggressive "Dragger"... those wily grooms can wriggle out of clothes. Get him by a body part, and there's no chance of running. Perhaps she's taking him to be hobbled?

The Johnny Come Lately. The decorator gave that bride attitude. Fo' shizzle.

Is Anyone Else Wondering Whether They Aren't... STATUES?

Ah... to blog or not to blog about more celebrity mental illness. Apparently Lindsay Lohan was throwing eggs at paparazzi the other night, but blogging about her would be a 24/7 gig. Plus, does she really rate as a celebrity anymore? ZZZZING!!!!

Anyway, I figured reviewing the pedophilic statuary being auctioned off out of Michael Jackson's Neverland Ranch would be more fun. From the Daily Mail:

Creep-tastic!!

Seriously... I think MJ had some kids bronzed.


OK... not all of it is creepy.

But most of it is.

Carousel Horse? meh. Check out the Zoltar machine in the background! Big!! HOLLA!

Is the little faun blowing a horn a metaphor?

Insert your own joke here... my brain has exploded.

F#*K My Life.

A Saturday evening blog post from Birv? Crazy... especially considering how busy I thought my weekend was going to be. However, the reason behind being home this Saturday night is too embarrassing NOT to share.

I've spoken about Pseudograndma standing me up before, now she's really punching me in the gooch. As I call this afternoon to confirm our plans to see an Ibsen play at the Museum of Contemporary Art tonight, Pseudograndma exclaims, "Oh jeez. Is that tonight? What do you think, should we give it up? It's awfully cold."

She's right, it's cold, and getting to the MCA from where I live is no easy feat- you either have to scrabble for one of the few parking spots not covered in the 12 inches of snow on the ground, or you have to take the Blue line south, and then either wait forEVER for the Chicago Ave bus, or alternatively go 3 stops farther into the loop, switch to the red line, go BACK up to the Gold Coast and then walk from whatever stop gets you closest. Whoopee. Certainly not worth it for Pseudograndma to attempt, when she's just going to nap in the theater anyway.

We agree to call our plans off, and have a bit of small talk- it's been a few months since I've last seen her. My biggest news is that my dog has eaten yet another set of my bed pillows. She has news, she tells me. Oh yes, she has news. However, she can't tell me, she whispers, "until the news leaves". Then she giggles.

Sweet Ecclesiastes, Pseudograndma has a man. Frantically trying to sweeping away visions of old person sex, I get off the phone as quick as humanly possible. Then I realize that I've been blown off by an 83 year old woman SO THAT SHE CAN HANG OUT WITH A GUY.

I, on the other hand, will play some Freecell and watch videos of Mystery Science Theater 3000 on Youtube. Maybe I'll take a bath and try to keep from drowning myself in it.

People Are So Damn Nosy!

Honestly- if it isn't invasive comments about my physical being, it's presumptuous questions about my love life.

There's something about being a single woman that seems to enable people, with the same inability to respect boundaries that encourages comments about my weight to ask about my dating life. "How's your love life?" Non-existent, thanks for pointing that out. "Any new boys on your horizon?" Several, and all appear to be retreating hastily. Look- off they run! Whee!

This group of people seems to be limited to married people, particularly women. Is it a sense of maddening superiority that causes them to ask this question every time I see them? Honestly- it's been two days. Do you think someone's suddenly declared their undying love to me in line at Walgreens when I'm picking up acne cream and pads? Do you think I have a secret husband I keep locked in the closet?

Trust me, I'm not that private. If something was going on, you'd know. I'd twirl around singing "I'm in love I'm in love and I don't care who knows it!!"

A Sure Sign You've Given Up.

Big Brother has an addiction to Craigslist that I struggled to understand, UNTIL TODAY. I was looking at jobs online, and decided to play around on the "Free" link. Not only is someone offering a single 34" Black Shoelace, but another person is seemingly offering up their dignity.

This is an honest to blog real Craigslist post:

Contraceptive Sponges (Logan Square)
Reply to: mailto:sale-904448397@craigslist.org?subject=Contraceptive%20Sponges%20(Logan%20Square) [?]Date: 2008-11-03, 3:03PM CST

2 brand new, sealed in packaging Today sponges. Expiration June 2010. Indicate specific day & times you are available for pickup. Kedzie/Belmont vicinity. Serious inquiries only - I am not amused by troll replies.
Location: Logan Square
it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests

PostingID: 904448397

Granted, it's been a while for me, but I do hold out hope that I will get laid before 2010.

The post brings to mind many questions (not the least of which is why these can't just be thrown away). What happened here? My mind naturally goes to the most likely scenario, which is that some poor woman in Logan Square has decided to swear off men, owing, no doubt, to her heart being shattered to dust by some swarthy dude with too many buttons open on his collar that calls himself Antonio, but whose real name is Louis.