Greetings from the Goo! Why is it that despite the fact that us DC peoples run the country, we're not actually part of it? All those insipid action alerts from the do-gooders are rendered useless in the District. Check it- don't you get something like this in your email box at least thrice daily?
You have to click on the picture to see what "Friends" of the Earth want you to do for Earth Day.
How are we Denizens of DC supposed to dedicate Earth Day to Global Warming?1 Have no fear, for we have a woman, a superwoman, a bionic woman fighting for us, and for our right to bitch and moan to our government. She will make you feel as warm and cuddly as a tepid pile of phlegm. Do not fuck with this woman, as Eleanor Holmes Norton is NOT easily amused. Not even by Stephen Colbert.
You can all rest easy now. Have no fear, the people who run your nation but are not part of it are safe, thanks to EHN. Except for that whole crime emergency thing. And the West Nile thing. Oh, and if you're poor, you should probably still worry a bit. Sleep tight!
Love, The Goo
1.Sidenote to Friends of the Earth: while that may have seemed like a good idea back in April, when it was still kind of chilly for most Washingtonians, I really don't think advancing global warming is too earth-friendly. Also, have you noticed your acronym is secretly FOE? Is that supposed to be a subliminal message? Or a joke that flies over the heads of the tools2 who donate to you?
2.Stupid journalistic integrity rules, grrr. It has been pointed out to me that it in the interest of full disclosure, I should admit that I am one of the tools donating to Friends of The Earth.
In related news, this is the horn from my bike, which got stolen. The bike, that is. Actually, the horn went with it. Now that I think about it, it's probably why the bike got stolen. That's some serious fashion.
Lastly, if anyone knows where to get some ladies size 7 1/2 shoes with dinosaurs on them (preferably the stompy carnivorous kind- the dinosaurs or the shoes, preferably both), let me know ASAP.
It's been a tough week at the Goo, what with learning about this kissing disease that's going around and what with the West Nile coming to the District. We can only hole up and wait for the impending zombie army that's sure to come this weekend (cool!). In the meantime, it's been a rich week for ridiculous non-news posing as news:
I appreciate the hard core science that goes into making ice cream as delicious as possible. It does raise (apparently, it does not beg) the question of whether genetically modified foods derived from animals is technically vegetarian?
Effective immediately, ice cream cones will be made with a little bit of extra batter at the tip, so that there is no possibility of them dripping. Any manufacturers found in violation of this law will be forced to eat out of said cone while listening for a period of no less than ninety minutes to those damn canvassers in Dupont Circle talk about the starving children and how Sally Struthers is going to could save their poor worm-ridden distended bellies (did you know diarrhea is the number one cause of death in the developing world it drips out of them just like the ice cream from that cone you're holding) if you just cared a little bit more and maybe looked us canvassers in the eye (we're people just like you) and why don't you care about the children, do you also like to kick baby pandas?
Today the Scourge celebrates 25 years of wreaking havoc in our pools. The goth-IT-hackers working from their parents' basements (better known as "wikipedians") don't think he's famous enough to warrant a shout-out on the wikipedia, despite my best efforts. It has left the Scourge even more confused than whatever caused the addlebrained expression in this photo:
Here's a gratuitous cute baby picture of the Scourge, who will put some choice words in caps on gmail chat once he sees it:
Blowing things up is as instrinsic to being American as loving our flag by either wearing it on every single body part or lighting it on fire1 We give the portion of the population most adept at blowing things up- 18 year-old boys- special badges. We call them the military. Then they go and blow shit up in order to prevent the wrong people from blowing shit up themselves. That's what we call freedom. Then, to celebrate the freedom, we blow things up. But to show we're free, we make it pretty, and we blow up unimportant things, like bottles, sidewalks, golf courses, and atolls. 2
It's an important distinction to understand. Terrorists don't- they blow up trains, buildings, and Innocent Loved Ones,and more importantly, they don't have special badges, so they clearly don't love freedom. Poofygoo's Far-Flung Correspondent, Rani-Ani, moved to India recently, where, as the largest democracy in the world, they know a hell of a lot about freedom. They also know about the g.d. terrorists hating on the freedom, having recently suffered from a series of tragic terrorist attacks on the subway system in Mumbai. She was more than happy to provide us insights on her newly adopted home, and in a recent interview, we discussed the larger implications of what it means for Indians to blow things up.
Poofygoo: Here at the Goo, the neighbors have been celebrating 4th of July since Memorial Day, and apparently are celebrating Bastille Day, too. Now I think they're getting ready for Indian Independence Day- August 15th, right? By celebrating, I mean, of course, the only way one can celebrate the birth of one's nation- by getting ripped and blowing things up. How does Independence Day work in India?
Rani Ani: Can you believe that on August 15, India's Independence Day, it's ILLEGAL to serve alcohol in public? The US Senate might come dangerously close to messing with our right to free speech. But can you imagine what would happen if someone tried to pass a law requiring July 4th to be a free of alcohol? There would be riots!
As for explosions, they have lots of fireworks, just not on August 15th.
PG: Whatwhatwhat? I don't get it.
RA: I know, I don't think this country understands independence at all. They have about a week of disorganized fireworks for Divali, which is around October sometime.
PG: But doesn't the date change every year? That's no good, because you can't predict the explosions. Freedom isn't free- you have to preserve it by blowing things up! Clearly, they're still holding onto the shackles of their oppressors. How would India respond?
RA: I don't know; Indian independence is still a mystery to me. I can't imagine- no drinking, no blowing things up... (Rani Ani breaks off, too emotional to continue)
PG: Do Indians understand the whole ice cream and coke thing? Black cows? I mean, how is that not the national drink? Aren't cows sacred or some shit like that?
RA: Right, and for exactly that reason, they would NOT drink a drink named after cows. It's totally backwards from what an American would think. If cows were sacred to Americans, we would name EVERYTHING after them, but Indians like to keep their sacred, well, sacred, I guess.
PG: But it's a delicious drink.
RA: It gets worse. In India, no one is allowed to hang an Indian flag outside his house. Not even outside the police station. The police station has some stupid police flag outside.
PG: But how do the Indians show they love freedom?
RA: I dunno, I guess they don't. That's what the nuclear talk is all about. It's Bush's way of spreading freedom to the heathens- if they have the ability to make their own breathtaking explosions, then they'll be truly free.
PG: NUKES FOR INDIA! NUKES FOR FREEDOM! So when can we expect to see you stateside again?
RA: Probably pretty soon. I like the food and all, but there's too much pollution and traffic, and the people really do stink of b.o.
PG: Not a lot of deodorant?
RA: I actually asked about that. They have deodorant here, but it's so expensive. It costs average people the equivalent of one days's wages for them, so sadly, there's not a lot of deodorant. I think affordable deodorant will be India's version of sliced bread. ********************************************************************* I'm pretty sure the reason deodorant is so damn expensive in India is because America puts huge tariffs on it just for Indians. See, America has freedom envy. We're not the biggest, so we have to keep them down. And everyone knows that the secret to being a developed nation is smelling like Old Caribbean Spicy Cool Fresh From the Shower and Baby-Powdered3. So we put huge tariffs on the deodorant just for Indians. As for blowing things up, the terrorists are really ruining it for the rest of us. First of all, you can't kill Innocent Loved Ones. You're supposed to do it like Will Smith- he never kills hapless extra passerssby when in the middle of dense population centers, he only lays waste to the aliens and robots. He also has super sweet choreography. And the terrorists neverblow up cool stuff. People-packed trains- it's just so hackneyed. You have to be original, like the guys at Nasa4 in this clip: Now go blow something up, and then wave a flag over it. Then wear the flag. What the hell, why not even light it on fire while you're at it?
1 Sometimes both at the same time. 2 Why always atolls? Why never an island? What is it about the lagoon that makes an atoll more attractive to testers of nuclear warheads? 3 It's what FDR and Clinton wore. Historians generally regard Polk as the worst president in U.S. history due to his b.o. stank. 4 Note the badges!
As a cat owner, I constantly worry that I'm going to turn into one of those crazy cat ladies. I really like my cat more than I like most kids (and I generally like kids). He's softer, he has a tail, he plays fetch, and he taught himself how to shit in a box. I'm pretty sure if I had a kid, I would put a box in the corner of the nursery and hope for the best. However, over the past two weeks, events have lead me to believe that you actually can have too many cats.
See, I found a kitten who was clearly someone's pet (feral cats tend not to run up to you, purring and meowing and begging for food), and I took it back to the casa, hoping to find its owner. At my house, we already have three cats- my big black beefy ex-tom (sorry about your nads kitty, but like I said, you can have too many cats), and Mysterious Ambiguously Aged Asian Woman Roommate (MAAAWR- the kitties named her, not me)'s two cats, a plump pedigreed egyptian mao who looks like a former beauty pageant contestant whose seen better days and a little scrappy black runt whose meow sounds like a cross between Kathleen Turner and Diane Rehm. Add in the new little bundle of joy, and well, that's just three cats too many.
All of that serves as a lnegthy introduction to today's conundrum for the Goo Report- if two cats are one two many, what is one cat with two faces?
In related news- caring lifesaver, or cat who does the same old shit every other cat does, namely sit around, stare, and purr? You be the judge.
I've enjoyed getting to know you, but I think it's time for you to move on. I mean, think about it, is city life really for you? You have to compete for space in my lungs with all those allergens, the smog, the carcinogens, the dust, and let's not even get started on all the cat dander flying around my house. And it's so hot in the city, wouldn't you enjoy a nice breath of fresh air from someone out in the country? Maybe the beach- the ocean air will keep your environment nice and moist, and you could take the kids surfing on the weekends- I'd even come and visit!
The Object took me out on a date last Saturday night. While we were on the bus to the movie, he turned to me and asked earnestly, "Hey, do you think the Governess from Pygmalion in a Blanket is hot? I bet she's really hot." Then his eyes glazed over with a faraway, dreamy look in his eyes, and he didn't speak for a while.
Update: This just in from The Governess: " i look like a cross of martha plimpton, hillary duff, and the crypt keeper. only more bloated."
Seriously, it's rough getting a seat on the metro. From a DCist list of things overheard:
Oooooh...Now, THAT'S cold.Metro:Two girls enter the train through different doors, and both head for the last available seat. The girl who gets there first sits down and starts reading her Harry Potter book.Girl who didn't get the seat: "I was going to sit there! You KNEW I was going to sit there! You took my seat!"Girl who got the seat: "Well, that's just the way it goes sometimes."Girl who didn't get the seat: "Yeah?! Well Sirius Black DIES at the end of that book!!"
While I completely empathize with Girl Who Didn't Get the Seat, I feel that such cruel means were totally unnecessary. And Judy Sarnecki, wherever you are, I'm still mad at you for telling me the end of Anna Karenina.
Here at the Goo, we're battling a mean case of SARs. By the way, I blame Wonkette, who started this whole "summertime cold" business. During my convalescence, I've been enjoying Terrytoons (creators of Heckle and Jeckle, which are really hard to find). Even in my addle-brained state, something here doesn't seem necessary- see if you can figure it out.
Here at the Goo, we are NOT fans of fish, since they will try and kill you and then eat you whenever you turn your back. Corroboration is provided today via the interweb: If I were him, I'd be a lot less worried about Tang and his sword, and a LOT more worried about his clownfish killing him in his sleep.
Update on the update: Apparently, Materazzi doesn't know what a terrorist is. An inquiry into the whole sitch will take place, though I find Materazzi's protest thoroughly weak. Weak!
Update: 11 July a.m. the tabloids (which are so much more fun in Europe) are reporting that Materazzi called Zidane a filthy terrorist and then said something about his mother. El Guapo reports on the actual words from lip-readers- I'm skeptical of what was actually said, and I'll wait for Zidane to come forward. Seriously, what kind of fucking moron would call a French Algerian a terrorist? That takes a special kind of stupid.
The World's Best Player, Zinedine Zidane was ejected from the final of the World Cup in the 110th minute. Only one foul thing could have provoked the headbutt from the normally cool and collected Zidane, as this video shows: Materazzi totally gave Zidane a titty twister.
By the way, Italy, how much hair gel do you need when you're playing soccer? Seriously, every time one of their players fell to the ground clutching some body part, the team stylist ran over and poured fancy Italian hair gel on said part, and then, to acheive that rugged, sporty look, just a little extra for the player's hair, ugh.
Here's a great picture of Materazzi crying- apparently he's just learned that someone substituted his regular Armani hair gel with Suave.
Covering Butterstick's first birthday, the AP reported, "One year ago, he was nearly hairless, pink and weighed about four ounces, less than most bagels. On Sunday, his first birthday, giant panda Tai Shan is an active, 56-pound cub and the star attraction of the National Zoo."
Less than most bagels"?!?!?! That's not how the fairy tale goes.
The Goo officially endorses FRANCE for the World Cup, as we have a strict policy of not cheering for shiny, beautiful, tan bastards. That, and Zinedine Zidane is the coolest name ever, not to mention damn good-looking. Allez allez les Bleus!
Yesterday morning, I was jonesing. Really, really badly.
So I got out my LSAT books to play the logic games.
I used a book of erotica (uh, my roommate left it lying around) as a stable writing platform instead of killing my time by actually reading said erotica.
You just don't understand how satisfying it is to get all those answers right!
By the way, I have apparently done all the LSAT logic games from the last 16 years or so. Twice. If anyone knows where I can get some games with that kind of reasoning, please, please, for the love of God, tell me, tell me! I'm even willing to look into the black market of LSAT games. Don't make me turn to Craigslist.
As we've reported on before, C is the most important letter of the alphabet, not only because it starts such important words like "civil rights", "crudmuffins", "Christmahanukwanzaakah", "cunnil"- fuck, wait, this is family site- and the most impotant word of all: cookie.
That's why we're particularly excited about Evil Moose's most supreme syllogism: If cookie is good, then enormous cookie is is enormously gooderer. My first foray into the pimped snack world will most definitely have to be the Fruit Power Pastille1. Actually, from now on, I will demand that all my snacks be pimped. I also appreciate that the nutrition information is listed, so you know just how decadent your deliciousness is. Fuck dieting! Cookies!
1.Fruit Pastille: a fruit flavored jelly candy covered in sugar- the chewy texture that lasts forever will pull your fillngs out, if not your whole tooth. It's the most delicious candy in the whole world. While they're not currently available in the States, I understand the American Dental Association is working subsidize their release in the U.S.
When I was growing up, we used to watch the fireworks on the Glenview Golf Course, while the Glenview Symphony Orchestra played the 1812 Overture and selections from Les Miserables. I'm not sure they had the whole "America" concept down, but they get credit for trying, mostly because middle class white suburbanites know how to blow things up really well, so the fireworks were always rad.
This Fourth of July, I would like to hearken back to those times. It was a simpler time, when everything had monsters in it, and everything ended with eating. And explosions!Isn't that what freedom is all about?
I try to make my words as delicious as possible so that when I have to eat them, it won't be so difficult. Last week, I declared shenanigans on honesty, as I thought emerging from a haze of self-delusion had lead to an impossible situation in which no one in the whole world was happy, because I wan't happy.
However, I wasn't informed of this "patience" thing that the kids seem to be into nowadays. Turns out that when you combine that with the whole honesty thing, you get a fantastic situation wherein everyone is happy and self-expressed, one can objectify the Object of One's Affection without having to worry about Plato, and one has someone to play lots of FIFA 2006 for Playstation. Everyone wins!
So for those of you still brandising your brooms, put them away. Well, actually, not so fast, since I'm NOT retracting my declaration of shenanigans on the makers of my new wallet, which is still falling apart after only two weeks. Shenanigans!