Listen Up, Christmas.

I know you're coming on Saturday. People who have more obligations and bigger extended families than I tend to dread you, but I always enjoy your visits. Family and togetherness and presents and alcohol are all well and good (preferably all at once, since that lends itself to drunken sobbing and kitchen appliances being hurled at one another), and I like shiny red bows as much as the next person. I'm still not sure why you keep bringing up that Jesus guy, though.

Not pictured: Mary's alcoholic uncle.

Dear History Channel,

You used to be my favorite cable network, and The Universe is still pretty awesome (whenever you actually decide to air it). Back in my bartending days, I especially appreciated how you would still air shows at 3 a.m. while the rest of the cable networks crapped out and switched to infomercials.

But I've got a bone to pick with you. This:

Is not history. Neither is this:

Why Cats Make Terrible Models

So, I have this cat. (I have two, actually, but let's stick with just this one.) Her name is Molly. Molly is... okay, I don't know if there's a feline equivalent of "functionally retarded," but pretend that there is. That's Molly.

Don't get me wrong: she is a sweetheart. She purrs a lot and likes to sit next to me on the couch when I watch football, and she likes to talk. Molly's pretty sassy. She's also dumber than a box of hair. She doesn't understand food as a concept, nor how to eat a treat out of her human's hand. When dinnertime rolls around, she doesn't realize that there is a plate of food and yes, it is in fact for her, unless you shove it in front of her face and slowly walk her plate across the kitchen and set it next to her water bowl. Walk too fast and you've lost her forever, but succeed and she'll sniff it, perhaps taste a bite or two, and then walk off while the other cat helps himself to her meal.

She also, bless her heart, has buck teeth. Honest-to-god fangs sticking out even when her mouth is closed. It's pretty adorable. So when the vet predicted that her current bout of gingivitis would eventually lead to her losing all her teeth, I set out to capture photographic evidence of her fangs before she lost them. This afternoon I found her lounging in a sunbeam, and thought it to be an opportune time. As it turns out, bright sunlight does not really cooperate with my camera.

 Not only did I fail in capturing the fangs on camera, but she looks a little bit like a James Bond villain here, or something from the scarier parts of Revelation.

A Quick Twitter Conversation

Me: @Longshoe How'd the key lime cake turn out?

Longshoe: Tasted great! It would've failed the plating class, the middle layer kept sliding away from the bottom one.

Me: I'd much rather have an ugly yet delicious cake myself. Therefore, your cake was a success!

Longshoe: Tasty lopsided cake FTW.

Me: "Tasty Lopsided Cake" would be a pretty good band name.

Longshoe: Sounds like a Korean pop band that would wear lots of neon clothes.

Me: I'll start auditioning singers. You can be management.

Together, we shall rule the world.

The American Music Awards (or, Go Away, Ke$ha)

I actually really like a lot of pop music, but the American Music Awards makes a habit of highlighting the absolute worst of it.

Case in point.

 So naturally I figured I would subject myself to the whole show.

The Problem.

So yesterday I was in Wal-Mart (shut up) on my lunch break in full uniform. I probably looked a little odd with my gun, corresponding Batman utility belt, and badge, considering my arms were full of shampoo, conditioner, and eyeliner. It's not every day you see a firearm in the makeup aisle.

I'm kind of amazed Wal-Mart doesn't sell these.

Braaaaiiiiiiiins.

Have you seen The Walking Dead yet? It's on Sunday nights on AMC, and you can catch last week's pilot on On Demand and AMC's website. It's good. Really good.

I'm not really a horror movie aficionado, but it's about a zombie apocalypse. A ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE. There's no way that wouldn't be awesome, right? That's so awesome I'm starting a band and calling it Zombie Apocalypse, and our first single will be "I'm Not Even Hungry (But You Taste So Good)."

If I See One More Political Advertisement....

....I'm running out into the street and stabbing the first person I see.

That is all.

Why My Job Is Creepy.

While I'm sure it would be nice to only drive ten minutes to get to this office, there is a reason I will never, ever live in the same county where I work. A few weeks ago, I got this letter from a parolee. He sent it from jail.

The Event, and Why It Might Not Suck

The "must-watch" advertisements for TV pilots every September can get tiring. I watch a grand total of two shows with any regularity: Mad Men (because it's outstanding) and Project Runway (because I like my Thursday nights with an injection of fabulousness).

And Another

Thank Christ the police didn't write this one. Here's the written statement of the girlfriend of one of my parolees:

I was arrested Staurday 15th of may. I was charged with pisson of meth I was told that [boyfriend] wouldn't be charged with it. It was found In my makeup Bag. I took the charge now I belive what is right that all charges against [boyfriend] she be dropped on him thanks.

You see stuff like this and wonder how this guy is anything other than screwed.

When Spell-Checking Isn't Enough

I just read this sentence in a police report: "He also stated that he knows the female and all she does is steel."

Steel. STEEL.

The people who write these are given guns by the government. Be afraid.

I'm Calling It Now.

There will not be a better single released all year than this one. I give you Cee Lo Green's "Fuck You."



How the video manages to be so charming, I have no idea. The whole thing is ridiculous. And awesome.

Well played, Cee Lo. Well played.

Oh, Honey. No.

Tonight, Colbie Caillat sang the national anthem at the Vikings/Saints game:



Colbie, just because you can do something doesn't mean you should.

Friendly reminder to all the singers all there: don't fuck with the national anthem. Also, the word "free" does not contain 18 syllables. Sing it straight, please. Unless your name is Marvin Gaye.



But it probably isn't, since he's kinda dead. So just leave it be.

A Song and a Question

One of the local radio stations has been playing Sheryl Crow's new song a lot lately:




On the one hand: it's almost impossible for me to dislike a tune like this. I have a fondness for songs that sound like someone came up with them while jamming half-drunk with a bunch of friends on a front porch somewhere (see also: "Beast of Burden"), and I do love good use of an orchestra to back a simple pop song, which in part explains why Motown is so awesome. It all adds up to something extremely easy to listen to.

On the other: who's she ripping off more, Ray LaMontagne or Van Morrison?

In Which I Give My Complexion a Talking-To

I see what you're doing there, zit, and I don't approve.

Honestly? I am entirely too old to be dealing with you. I don't know how you missed the memo that you were supposed to magically disappear once I graduated high school, so I'm just giving you a heads-up here. You should be done with me by now. Genetics has already doomed me to skin of the, "Hey, you know that oil spill in the Gulf? It's all taken care of, because it's obviously migrated to my face" variety. Must you continue to complicate things further? Was the trouble you caused me during puberty not enough?

I want you to go to your room and think about what you've done. You should be ashamed of yourself.

Do My Ears Deceive Me....

...or is Ke$ha's new song based around the melody to that "there's a place in France where the ladies wear no pants" song that my brother used to annoy me with when he was five?