Mama Said

This is one of those days, kids. I am not up for more than 30 minutes when I am being rocked by several odd world happenings.

Yesterday, MSN entertainment gossip clued me in to the fact that Renee Zellweger had surprised a Kenny Chesney concert audience by bringing him a margarita onstage--a duty normally reserved for an anonymous cocktail waitress. I am still stinging from the Jim Carrey break up, but I spent last night getting used to the idea. This morning I found out that fellow Texan Renee actually married this country singer yesterday in the Caribbean. Jim inspired you to look voluptuous and wear yellow like nobody's business, Renee! Jack made you spend more time inside, die your hair black, and starve yourself. Is Kenny going to bring you back to your Katy, TX ways? Let's hope. I bet he can't do an Andy Kaufman impersonation to save his life, so...Kenny, I'll be watching...

In addition to this surprising news, the internet continues to astound and amaze. It must be terrifying to have a child that knows how to cruise around on this cyber-highway, maneuvering around effortlessly to find things like these new racist video games. At first I wanted to give the games the benefit of the doubt, thinking that a game called "Border Patrol" might just be celebrating people who have an intense job that involves shooting people. Then I keep scrolling and find the game "Ethnic Cleansing," which is considerably more difficult to make an excuse for. And just when I thought it couldn't get any worse, I find "Shoot the Blacks."

It really gives you the warm fuzzies. I can just imagine the family settling down for the night. Mom is baking a cherry pie in the oven, Dad is reading the Sunday paper, and Little Timmy sits in front of the computer playing a feverish game of "Watch out Behind You, Hunter! (Shoot the fags before they rape you!)."

You really have to run a strong defensive game in this world to not end up, at the very least, a cold-hearted cynic.

As I am writing what will become the finest anti-racist, pro-human diatribe you will ever set eyes on, I am listening to Gwen Stefani. Her song, "Hollaback Girl" really has me confused in a lasting way. First of all, what in the sweet Lord's name does "I'm not your hollaback girl" really mean? Secondly, towards the end of the song, she spends a strong 30 seconds chanting, 'This shit is bananas, B-A-N-A-N-A-S." Gwen is just spelling bananas for a good few measures. What has living with Gavin done to this poor girl's mind? Are they gonna have kids?

I shudder to think. The diatribe will have to wait. I have to go google hollaback.

firefox rules. g