most fascinating

rt_camilla_parker_051129_t
Originally uploaded by kpalmer45.

Hi! I'm the MOST FASCINATING PERSON OF 2005 who would agree to be interviewed on a show about the most fascinating people of 2005! This, even though my teeth are SO LARGE, they hang over my bottom lip. Even though I single-handedly caused the mental breakdown and subsequent death of Great Britain's most beloved princess!

And to think they used to call me names. Just look at me now. Look at me. Look. at. me.

the barbara walters special

Headline: Barbara Walters names herself as Most Fascinating Person of 2005.

After a review of the list of people she'll be interviewing tonight, here's why Barbara considers herself a lot more interesting than these yahoos. I think you'll agree with me that Barbara's obviously scraping the bottom of the barrel with these people:

Dakota Fanning: Cute kid with a gummy kind of smile whose movie credits include Hide & Seek and Lilo & Stitch 2. Whoopee. Maybe she'll be more fascinating after she actually grows up. Barbara should check her out in about 10 years.

Jamie Foxx: He starred in Ray in 2004, so what's so gosh-darn fascinating about him now? Oh, the tabloids say he's having an affair with Oprah. Hello... that's icky, not fascinating.

Condi, Condi: Bush's favorite Yes Man. Brown-nosing SO not fascinating.

Teri Hatcher: Again, Desperate Housewives is so 2004 and not fascinating this year.

Tom Mesereau: Michael Jackson's lawyer. Again: Icky.

Lance Armstrong: Never liked the guy, myself. Plus, he's engaged to the biggest skank pop star on the planet.

Beth Holloway-Twitty: No, not Conway Twitty's daughter. She's the mother of the missing Aruba-drunken-Senior-Trip-Girl, Natalee Holloway. Hey, Aruba's an island. Guess where the body is? Stop digging.

Tom Cruise: Not just icky; Crazy-cult-guy icky.

Kayne West: Who the hell is he?


The ABC website makes it pretty obvious that the most interesting person is definitely going to be a female. Here are the choices you get to vote for on their PURELY UNSCIENTIFIC POLL:

Sandry Day O'Connor
Camilla Parker-Bowles
JK Rowling
Jennifer Aniston
Hillary Rodham Clinton
Martha Stewart
Angelina Jolie
Harriet Miers
Judith Miller

OK, two of these women have been in prison this year, two are half-baked actresses, one is another Bush ass-kisser, two are too smart to agree to being name Most Fascinating Person of 2005, and two aren't even AMERICAN. That's why it's pretty obvious to me that Barbara will HAVE to name herself as the most fascinating person of 2005.

Or Katie Holmes.

Please not that.

Unfortunately,there's a new episode of Nip/Tuck on tonight at the same time, and darn it, I haven't gotten a DVR yet, so I'll miss the special, but I know you'll be watching.

Please, don't let it be Katie Holmes.
Or Jennifer Aniston.

thanksgiving

I realized I was hopelessly out of touch when, on Thanksgiving, I noticed my a few of the younger children (ages 8-11) were playing Texas Hold'em and I, an adult, don't have a clue how it's played.

who do ya love? pt 2

The Tink, or whereby we adopt a cat:

The year is 2000. I have just had an alarm system installed at my house, and like all homeowners with brand new alarm systems, I am actually using mine. (Turning the alarm system on will soon become a thing of the past but it makes us FEEL more secure). A couple of months earlier, Julian and I adopted a new cat named Tink, who I believe to be Cary Grant reincarnated. He's very cool. He also looks like he's wearing a tuxedo. Tink has decided to go out into the world - to mark his territory or whatever it is cats do - and has been gone for 3 days. We're pretty sure he's never going to come back. We're resigned to it.

4:30am: A window breaks and the alarm goes off (hey, these things really do work). ADT calls the police. The police come. They shine their flashlights and check things out. No burglars. No intruders We surmise that the jiggly storm window I'd opened the night before has crashed down and broken on its own. The police leave. Julian and I are about to go back to bed when we hear a meow and discover Tink, hooked to the window screen, demanding to be let in. It appears that our burglar is Tink.

Fast forward to the present day. Tink has developed into a fine specimen of a cat. He likes to vocalize. He expects to be given your empty bowl after you've eaten ice cream, so he can lick it. He can hear the clink of a spoon on an ice cream bowl from miles away. He will wake you up in the middle of the night if he feels like talking. There's nothing you can do about it. If there's no food in his bowl, he'll knock it to the floor. This makes a semi-loud noise. If you don't feed him right away, he'll wrestle the entire food container to the floor, which makes an even louder noise. When you go looking for the noise, he's there waiting for you. He spends most of his time outside and God only knows what he does or where he goes. Generally, he only comes in to eat or lick your ice cream bowl.

Two weeks ago, 12:00am: Julian wakes me up, whispering that there's someone downstairs; that he has heard footsteps. We, of course, don't use the alarm system much anymore so we're kind of on our own. Being a manly 18 years old, he calls the police himself and handles the 911 operator. The police come. They shine the flashlights everywhere. There's been no sign of a break-in and no one else is in the house. The police leave. Using my female powers of deduction, I inspect the room where the cats are fed. The empty food dish is on the floor. Tink is waiting to be fed.

Yesterday: The pumpkin that has been sitting precariously perched on the porch rail for one whole month is found smashed on the front walk.

Vandals?

I think not.

This marks my 100th post. Jeeves, you may detonate the fireworks now.

who do ya love? (first in a several-part series)

In an attempt to tear myself away from the political soapbox I've been on lately, I've decided to get back to reaity and write about some of the people in my life that make it all worthwhile.

The Son:

What can I say about my son, Julian? The Prodigal is 18 years old now and a senior in HS. Last month, when he asked me if I was going to go to Parent/Teacher conferences, I told him that, at age 18, he was now totally responsible for his grades - good or bad - and if he wasn't self-motivated by now, there wasn't much else I could do for him. Since he continues to bring home pretty much all A's, I guess it'z all good.

I realized the other day, with a start, that I will never ever be able to rock my baby boy to sleep again. NEVER. EVER. He will also never ever snuggle with me, or read books with me, or express that the only girl he wants to marry is his mommy. And while I'm glad that he seems to have hurdled the classic Oedipal complex, as well as mastered Piaget's final phase of cognitive development, I still mourn the loss of the little boy who once sucked his thumb and carried a blankie. I found the remaining scrap of his blankie in my closet last weekend while I was reorganizing, and took it in to show him.

"Lookie sweetie -see what I've got?" holding the little scrap up to him proudly, positive he would melt at the sight of what was left of his beloved cuddly object. I imagined him saying something like "Oh mother dear, you've found my old blankie. How positvely wonderful of you!" and then we would retire to the kitchen for hot chocolate and heartfelt conversation.

Instead he wrinkled up his nose in disgust and said "What's that?"

"You blankie!" I exclaimed. "See, I kept it for you!"

"Yeah, whatever mom" he replied, his face resuming its normal closed-off expression just before he shut the door to his room; putting the proverbial wall between us back in usual place.

I sighed as I returned blankie to its place among the other keepsakes from Julian's little-boy-hood - favorite stuffed animals, first outfits, heirloom quilt - realizing that these symbols of a little boy's childhood have now been permanently replaced with the realities of a man's life - ,job, car payment, college, girlfriend.

Speaking of girlfriends, Julian has a wonderful girlfriend who he's been going out with for 2 1/2 years. Shannon is a smart, talented young lady who keeps my son in line, most of the time. She's the kind of girl you're secretly grateful for, knowing full well the other possibilities out there just waiting to get their hands on your precious baby: Goth chicks, Drama Queens, and worst of all - Cheerleaders. This isn't to say that the kids are perfect. There was a pretty big upheaval when we all found out they were having sex. Believe me, getting my mind around the fact that my teenager has a sex life was a lot harder than I thought it would be.

I guess this really means he no longer wants to marry his mommy.

But everything's been handled in a mature way, and there won't be any little Julians or Shannons running around in the near future, thankfully; although the thought of eventually having a little one around again kind of warms my heart.

Anyway, MY little baby is all growed up, and I'm astounded and thankful that I've successfully raised another human being to adulthood, without permanently inflicting some kind of personality disorder on him - at least not that you can tell. He's smart and handsome and athletic and best of all, he appears to be as politically liberal as his parents and grandparents. I guess you really can't hope for anything better than that, can you?


Shannon, and the Modern Face of Manhood (oy vey)

o'reilly the new mccarthy?

Bill O'Reilly has recently pledged that he will publish an online list of "smear merchants" of the "anti-military internet crowd." I immediately penned an email to him and it goes like this:

Date: Wed, 16 Nov 2005
From: K Palmer
Subject: anti-military blog list
To: oreilly@foxnews.com

Please Please Please add this to your list of blogs that spout liberal, anti-establishment rhetoric! This person obviously hates Pat Robertson and Sean Hannity, and probably yourself! These kinds of hateful liberal bloggers need to be stopped! It's obvious that they are freedom-haters of the same ilk as John Kerry and the Anti-Christ herself, Hillary Clinton.

www.papercut1.blogspot.com This is the spot you need to expose for all the world to see!

Thank you.

PS - I would have emailed this directly to you via your website, but it says I have to be a Premium Member and since I just filled my Hummer3 up with gas this morning, I don't have any money left over. Sorry.


I hope he gets totally tongue-in-cheek nature of my literary style...

abortionfordummies

Bush's nomination of self-described "committed conservative" Samual Alita (a.k.a. Sam Scalito, Machine Gun Sammy) for our next Supreme Court judge is scaring little Karen. Not that I think there's any chance he'll actually be confirmed (oh gosh, you don't think it's possible, do you?), but the possibility is positively frightening.

Anybody remember what it was like before Roe v Wade? Well, Mr. Alito wants to turn back the clock to the good old days of back alley abortions. You know - Women Dying! Women Maimed For Life! No more safe and legal procedures for you horrible She-Devil Harlots! Die! Die!

So, for anyone who needs a refresher, the good people at Wiley Publishing have their newest how-to book ready for release:

Here's for keeping abortion legal and most of all, safe.

revolution/evolution

Woot! It’s my special day – Veteran’s Day! I don’t’ get the day off, so I’m compensating by not really working. Instead, I’ve spent an inordinate amount of time working up a little tune that Pat Robertson can sing to the citizens of Dover, Pennsylvania.

Revolution, Under God
(sung to the tune of Revolution 1 by the Beatles. Go ahead, sing along in your head – it really works!)

You say you wanna teach evolution?
Well you know,
I don’t think you understand.
God aint’ gonna give you absolution.
Oh? How do I know?
I sit at God’s right hand.

And when your town faces destruction
You’d better call on Mr. Charles Darwin
Don’t you know it ain’t gonna be, alright
Don’t you know it ain’t gonna be, alright
Don’t you know it ain’t gonna be, alright

Hey Dover, I’ve got a real solution
Well you know
Wouldn’t you love to see the plan?
Just give me a real big contribution
To my TV show
And I’ll have a word with The Man

He says you gotta teach something real divine,
Hey! How about Intel-li-gent Design?
And then it’s gonna be alright
And then it’s gonna be alright
And then it’s gonna be alright


I didn’t do the 3rd verse because, really, I need to do a little something today and this has pretty much taken up an entire day’s work already. You probably think that this stuff just flows from my brain to my typing fingers in one continuous stream-of-consciousness kind of way, but it’s actually more like a spastic retarded person trying to count change. Lots of mistakes and jerking around.

Anyway, keep ‘em coming Pat. You’re hilarious, dude.




"I just saved a bunch of money on my car insurance"

Oprah letter

Dear Oprah,

Yesterday's show with Terry McMillan and her ex-gay-husband was pretty funny. My gay-dar went off as soon as he opened his mouth. I wonder why it took her 6 1/2 years to figure it out...

Q. Why did Terry McMillan's gay ex-husband marry her for her money?

A. Because he couldn't legally marry a gay man for his money.

let's all marry our dogs and cats

My friend Tracy had been holding her breath this past week regarding the gay marriage amendment on the Texas ballot - hoping against hope that the people in her fair state wouldn't prove to be just as narrow-minded as the people in the previous 17 states (including Missouri) that have passed this legalized form of bigotry. But, alas, it passed yesterday by an overwhelming margin. Surprise, suprise. Of course, everyone knows that if you let gay people marry, you'll eventually have to let people marry their dogs and cats. I, myself, can now rest peacefully knowing that people will not be able to marry their dogs and cats in 18 states.

But come to think of it, Coco and Tink WERE starting to look pretty good...

waitressing

I am not, nor have I ever been a waitress; but I have been served by numerous waitresses/waiters in my life, so I have a pretty good idea of what one should and should not do. Based on a recent experience Ken (a.k.a. Mr. Wonderful) and I had a couple of days ago, here are a few Don'ts:

1. Do not direct my attention to the most expensive item on the menu, then give me a "frowny" face when I choose something else (something that didn't contain TWO MEATS IN ONE MEAL).

2. Do not tell us that you're a single mother with two children. We don't need to know about your life. We're hungry. Just serve the food.

3. Don't wrinkle up your nose and tell me my food choice is a "test item" and to let her know if it's any good. (It wasn't)

4. Do not neglect to bring me the dipping sauce for my test item meal, especially after I have specifically asked for it (And yes, it WAS on the menu, don't tell me it wasn't).

5. Do not make excuses for why you didn't bring my dipping sauce AT ALL by telling me how busy your personal life as a single parent of two boys is. I AM a single parent and I think I could remember to bring a small bowl of sauce to a table.

6. Do not tell me you only make $2.10 per hour. You're a waitress. You work for tips. Bring the damn sauce next time.

7. Do not try to get us to order dessert so you can win a contest for selling the most desserts. And don't give us your frowny face when we say we don't want dessert.

8. And finally, don't stand around and watch to see how much of a tip you're getting. You're lucky you got one.

Fortunately, she's also lucky that our sense of humor is so highly evolved, we actually enjoy experiences like this.

This post is dedicated to the cast of Alice.