The Mouse That Was My Vietnam

Posting here in the past has been a compulsion, a nervous tic; however, it was real easy to step away once I got sucked back into the workaday world at a job that required a bit more of my attention, as new jobs often do. But here I am, back again.

So what's going on? Not a lot - As I write this, I'm locked in mortal combat with a mouse who's invaded my home. I'm sure this fucker'll forever be two steps ahead of me as I waste far too much energy on hunting the beast down. I feel vaguely like Wile E. Coyote (or perhaps Al Bundy would be a better analogy). Why the anger toward this Disneysque creature? I'm sure the whiskered cutie breaks out in song after hours as I slumber, after all. And frankly it's nice to have company over - I should welcome him into the fold with a saucer of milk (saucer of cheese?) Ahh, fuck all that - I've got the traps all set up, so it's just a matter of time for him and his brethren. Short of that, I'm at the ready with my fireplace shovel to slap him into space, Scratchy-style. Then again, Scratchy is the one who is repeatedly pummeled by that little Itchy rodent. Where's Willard when you need him?

(Epilogue:  The mouse is dead, long live the mouse.  I found it this morning in the kitchen, caught in the web of one of my glue traps, poisoned by the bait and stuck.  It had managed to slide the trap half way across the room, trying in vain to drag it with him under the stove but only half making it.  Judging by the particular trap he was snarred in, I now know the tiny hole from which the guy made his entrance.  Time to close it up.  I feel awful about his demise but imagine he's only the first of an army, now seething with anger over my atrocity, much like Platoon's Sgt. Barnes in the village.  I'm waiting for the Johnny Depp translator mouse to come up to me and start asking who the rice and the weapons are for ... er, I mean the glue traps and poison-laced bait. But I digress.)

Healthcare? Whatchutalkin'bout, Willis?

I'm flipping through the channels and see that Larry King's guests tonight are Jesse Ventura and Todd Bridges.   My mind reels trying to connect the dots between these two shining stars.  Not so much that I'm tempted to actually watch the show and perhaps uncover this mystery.  Bridges' appearance at this juncture is obviously connected to Corey Haim's passing (one "formerly" troubled ex-child star talking about a fellow traveler on the ash heap of has-been heaven recently crossed over to the other side).  Jesse was big in the 80s as well, though he wasn't a child or on a sit-com.  Perhaps Corey (or Todd) took to trolling on the pro wrestling circuit in their spare time (perhaps they all shot growth hormones together, sharing the same dirty needles).

Guess I'll have to switch on over after all ...

... Hey!  What the fuck!?!?  Jesse (and Rudy himself, Sean Astin) are on talking about healthcare!  My God!  The healthcare bill is now truly doomed!   Rudy is stuttering on about how "there's some really good stuff in this bill" and "the people did speak, at the polls, and they want this."  I agree with both sentiments but these guys aren't the ones you want convincing folks, do you?  

Perhaps Larry's trying to reach those suspicious "salt of the earth" types by giving air time to common folks they can relate to.  You know, like a kid who grew up in Hollywood riches (with Gomez Adams and Helen Keller/Identical Cousin Patty/Cathy as parents) and is perhaps best known as a hobbit (though he'll always be Rudy to me) along with a pro wrestler turned governor of a state that these salty types probably think is part of Canada (at best equating it to that Arctic berg who brought raging liberal commie pinko Al Franken to the Senate).  

Maybe that's why Todd Bridges was booked - maybe he'll be giving his Healthcare pitch soon ... free smack for everyone!   We don't need your help, Larry.  Your very existence is a medical aberration so you shouldn't be doing healthcare themed shows, period (or anything beyond the increasingly Jerry Springeresque subject matter you've naturally gravitated to over the years).

Apocalypse Garden

I haven't laughed so hard in months as I did this week with Stephen Colbert's take on one of Glenn Beck's advertisers: Survival Seeds.  Apparently, this is a product to keep you self sufficient and fed during the end of days.  As Stephen notes, "When you're tilling the earth with a human femur while the sky is raining fire, you'll want a reliable supply of radicchio and mini squash."  Colbert added that those ponying up the duckets to advertise on the mighty Glenn Beck know very well one overriding fact: "Nothing sells like the hot stink of fear."  Indeed.

Here's the actual commercial for your own "crisis garden":

The Sadists and Milkaholics Among Us

The NFL's Cowardly Lion is receiving a "Courage" award this evening.  Sadly, he doesn't play for Detroit but rather for Philadelphia, so I guess technically he's the Cowardly Eagle.  And frankly the analogy falls flat on a more basic level: I actually liked the Wizard of Oz's Cowardly Lion (certainly I didn't despise him).   Meanwhile, illegal dogfighting has risen 300% in the city of brotherly love since Vick came to town.   He's about as effective an anti-dog fighting advocate as Big Tobacco is in driving the nation's anti-smoking campaign.

In other dingbat news, Lindsay Lohan is suing E-Trade over the little baby "Lindsay the milkaholic" ad they've been running since the Superbowl.  She wants 20 million dollars and all copies turned over to her, claiming that the name "Lindsay" is as singular as "Oprah" or "Madonna" or "Sting."   Not really much I can add except to say that until I read this complaint a couple minutes ago, I didn't make the connection and I've seen the spot a number of times.  Perhaps others made the leap.

Well, I felt obligated to post something here (not sure why; it's been awhile I guess).  And now I have to get back to National Geographic network for their illicit drug marathon (LCD followed by THC followed by Meth).  That's as close as I get to intoxication these day.  Of course, some claim quite rightly that television is our nation's most addictive and damaging drug of all. Maybe I'll watch Dragnet's "Blue Boy" episode after finishing these off.  Peace.