Sex addict? Try bullshit addict.

My deepest apologies, faithful readers, for my long absence.  I can assure you that my vitriol is not in short supply; rather, it is my time which suffers that tragic yet commonplace malady.  Without further ado…

I can tell you all the things that Tiger Woods is.   He’s a professional golfer, he’s a multi-millionaire, he’s a celebrity.  But folks, I can also tell you what he’s not – and he ain’t no sex addict.

Here’s the scoop – the guy got caught cheating on his wife with a bunch of skanky women and then realized that his endorsements and his fan club would dry up if he didn’t do something to resurrect his squeaky-clean image, so he did what so many other men in a similar pinch have tried to do – play the “I can’t help it” card.  “I’m addicted, I couldn’t help myself”, blah blah blah.

Don’t get me wrong, here – I couldn’t give a shit about his marriage or his infidelities.  I get that we are all walking that fine line between “animal” and what we call “human”.  I believe I’ve proven that.  I’m not offended by any of that.  What offends me is the bullshit campaign he’s running.  Checking into sex rehab?  Puh-leeze.  Half of America should be in sex rehab, if you believe Tiger’s line.  Don’t be fooled – he is no victim here.  He’s a human mammal, plain and simple, with urges and desires like all the rest of us, he indulged, he got reckless and stupid and got caught.  End of story, folks.  The only thing he is a victim of is his endocrine system.  So you’re not perfect after all?  Join the club, Tiger.

Truth in adverse-tising.

Commercials.  They really, really suck.  They loudly disrupt our television viewing and they subliminally suggest to all of us what we need to purchase so that we can be whole, happy, and not suck any longer.  We are constantly bombarded with images of cookies, razors, jeans, candy bars, investment banks, and so on.  But you know, there are some products we, strangely enough, don’t ever see ads for on TV.  Here are a few examples:

1.  String.  (Steven Wright has famously opined on this, so I won’t belabor the point.)

2.  Douche.   (Do women even use this shit anymore?)

3.  Canned tomatoes.  (Not spaghetti sauce, not pizza sauce – I’m talking good ol’ diced tomatoes.  A staple in any decent kitchen cupboard.)

4.  Knitting needles.  (There are lots of old women and hippie dippies making their own sweaters and shit.)

5.  Fingernail clippers.  (We all use ‘em – well, except maybe this woman.)

6.  Dog leashes.  (Some dogs are pretty fuckin’ strong.)

7.  Sandpaper.  (There’s good sandpaper, and then there’s cheap-ass-eats-through-quickly-and-ruins-your-fingers sandpaper.)

8.  Towels.  (Think of all those nauseating ads for toilet paper.  What about towels, the softness of which we so deserve and should demand?)

Are there some products that simply don’t need to be advertised?  Products whose manufacturers have cornered their particular market and now nothing more needs to be said about them?  Why, then, must we be subjected to ads extolling the virtues of mountain fresh Clorox bleach?

Let me know which products you think are strangely absent from Commercial Land.  Go get a life – but keep reading this blog!

Catching up on belly-aching.

Well, faithful readers, needless to say, I’ve been a bit distracted lately by other things.   But don’t you worry – there is no shortage of vitriol in this latest installment.  I’ll need to hit a few topics, so pardon the wandering.

1.  First of all, it is of course the Christmas season, probably my least favorite time of the year.  Why, do you ask?  Because of how arbitrary and soul-sucking it truly is.  Think about it – you, like millions of others, are probably stressing about what to buy for whom, where to buy it, how much it will cost, how you can’t afford it, while standing in line at lifeless box stores thinking about it all, and why?  Because once upon a time, some religious nutcases decided to celebrate some kid’s birthday around the same time that a bunch of pagans were being burned at the stake for celebrating the winter solstice?  Give me a fucking break.  Christmas is complete and utter bullshit.  Do what I did and drop out altogether – and enjoy the time off with the people you love the most without feeling obligated.  Life is way too short for that kind of shit.

2.  Who gives a shit about Tiger fucking Woods?  I don’t.  So he cheated on his wife.  Big fucking deal.  A lot of guys do.   Gals, too.  That’s because monogamy  is a wholly unrealistic expectation that humans place on each other.  So, let’s all admit that we’re human and we like to fuck each other, sometimes without the presence of love and romance.   And because of his actions, Tiger’s sponsors are pulling out (so to speak, heh).  Well isn’t that the pot calling the kettle black.  You don’t think the CEOs of some of these hotshot companies don’t have a line of mistresses pulling down their stockings outside their office doors?  Puhleeze.

3.  Obama gets the Nobel PEACE Prize and then says “Hey, let’s send a shitload more troops to Afghanistan.  I think it will work.”  Yeah, that makes fucking sense.  Whatever happened to “you cannot simultaneously prevent and prepare for war”?  Oh wait, that was Einstein who said that.  A fucking genius.   I’ve been regretting my vote for Obama for some time now, but hey – at least he’s not McCain.  Ain’t democracy grand?

4.  Some 8 year old kid in Massachusetts got sent home from school this week for drawing a picture of Jesus on the cross with Xs on the eyes.   The class was asked to draw something pertaining to the holidays, and this is what he came up with.  Wrong holiday, kid – that’s the bloodthirst-quenching holiday of Easter you depicted.  You missed it by a few months.  Ah well.  He was inspired by a recent family visit to some wacko Christian retreat in his neck of the woods.  The school want to have him psychologically evaluated because of the “violent” nature of his drawing.   Well, duh!  I think anyone who fixates on some dead dude nailed to a cross ought to have their head examined.  And people are just starting to the figure this out now?   That perhaps we shouldn’t be exposing our children to this kind of religious mind-fuckery?  Christopher Hitchens calls it child abuse for a reason, folks.

Well, that’s it for now.  Maybe I’ll be back again soon.  Stay tuned.

Bah hum-turkey.

What a bullshit holiday. Yeah, let’s all celebrate the fact that a bunch of Brits came over on a boat, sweet-talked the Native people who were already here, had these Natives share some food and agricultural secrets with them, and in return butchered their men, raped their women, enslaved their children, took their land and infected them with smallpox and syphilis. Yeah, happy fucking turkey day.

And while we’re at it, let’s see if we can manage to kill anyone else this Black Friday.

The triumphant return of jugs and java!

Well, he’s done it.  Donald Crabtree has reopened his Grand View Coffee Shop in Vassalboro, Maine, much to the delight of coffee-, freedom- and booby-lovers everywhere.  Granted, his new digs are an office trailer… but who cares? The coffee is flowing, the donuts are glazed, and the women are topless.  Every straight man’s dream, right?

I actually heard a wrinkled, humorless old woman on Wednesday night’s local news say that she thinks Don and his shirtless staff should go “someplace else” like New York or Boston.   Ah, fuck her.  Check out the broadcast here:

http://www.wmtw.com/video/21591387/index.html

While the arsonist who burned down the original shop remains at large (prudish bastard!), it’s heartening to know that Mr. Crabtree is bound and determined to keep plowing ahead.  I say good for him, and good for coffee-, freedom- and booby-lovers everywhere.