Yeah, I don’t usually care who’s dating whom, or who’s married or divorced, or whatever, but I saw recently that Gwen Stefani and Gavin Rossdale have divorced … and neither one of them asked for alimony.
So my daughter recently took second place in an essay contest at her school, and won $75!
I’m super proud of her, but also sad that she has earned more money than I have as a professional writer.
So, apparently a thing that is happening today is someone put out an ad to call the funeral home where I work and ask for Myra.
The thing about the new Superman movie is it looks just DULL. Like SO BORING. Like I literally find myself nodding off during the 30-second TV spots because YAWN.
I don’t blame the actors for this (although both Affleck and Cavill come off a little wooden). I’m not sure I even blame Zack Snyder (although he really does beat a dead horse, stylistically). I kind of blame the studio (because Nolan’s Dark Knight movies were successful, so they’re like: “Dark! Darker! The Darkest!”). But mostly, I blame us. Because some of us went to see Man of Steel, even though it looked like poo and Superman was a big whiny baby, “boo-hoo, I am like a god to you people, it’s so HARD to fit in,” and he murdered civilians and Zod (but who cares if Zod isn’t Terence Stamp, you know?).
I blame you people. You people, of whom there were enough who watched Man of Steel that they went ahead and made a sequel.
I hope you’ve learned your lesson.
My daughter loves Readers Digest (I suspect this is because, secretly, she is a 70-year-old woman, as she’s also a fan of Wheel of Fortune), and recently quoted to me from an article on what you can learn about a person from their house.
“It says that people who take long, hot showers are probably lonely,” she said meaningfully. “They try to make up for missing the warmth of human contact with the warmth of a shower.”
“Well, what does it have to say about people who have to take lukewarm showers because the water heater sucks, huh?” I replied. “What does it say about them?”
She just looked at me sadly and shook her head.
Real princesses are boring, unless you’re into the monarchy, I guess. But fictional princesses are awesome! Especially Adventure Time princesses, because they have princesses for everything! Anyway, you might be dating a fictional princess! Let’s find out, shall we?
Here’s a list of princesses you could possibly be dating:
1. Princess Leia. Princess Leia is the best princess of all, because she is an outer space princess. Unfortunately for you, unless you’re Han Solo, you’re not dating her.
2. Princess Bubblegum. Princess Bubblegum is pretty cool, if you’re into despots and whatever. Also 1000-year-old ladies.
3. Lumpy Space Princess. The best thing about Lumpy Space Princess is that she floats, and is purple. The worst thing about Lumpy Space Princess is everything else, but especially her terrible, terrible personality.
4. Snow White. If you woke your princess with a kiss after espying her sleeping in a glass coffin, Snow White’s your girl.
5. Sleeping Beauty. If you woke your princess with a kiss after espying her sleeping in a castle surrounded by thorns (which I’m not quite sure how you managed to do), then you’re dating Sleeping Beauty.
6. Muscle Princess. Muscle Princess is very muscular. That’s cool.
7. Cinderella. Cinderella seems like a nice girl. I’m sure you’ll be very happy together.
8. Breakfast Princess. Breakfast Princess (I assume) lives in the Breakfast Kingdom, where you shall never have to eat another bowl of cold, soggy cereal again. As God is my witness!
9. Slime Princess. Slime Princess is a princess of slime. There’s really not much else to say about her.
10. Wonder Woman. Wonder Woman is an Amazon Princess! She might actually be cooler than Princess Leia, except she doesn’t have a laser gun. But she doesn’t need a laser gun, because she has super powers! But laser guns are really cool.
Anyway, there you have it! A list of fictional princesses you could be dating, maybe! I hope you crazy kids work it out.
I missed the entire first season of The Carmichael Show. This was not an accident. The promos made it look kind of stupid and annoying. Especially since they kept showing the part where the mother realizes she’s a bigot by saying the non-Christian kids at schools should have a “separate, but equally nice” place to go when there’s prayer.
But last night, my family wanted to watch Steve Harvey’s Little Big Shots, which is a show about children. At first, I was led to believe it was a show about talented children, but it turns out only some of the children are talented, and the others are famous because they said cute things about doughnuts on Youtube, and the Internet is kind of ridiculous.
This led to a severe bout of inertia, so that when The Carmichael Show came on, I drooled a little and ended up watching the first episode of season two.
The episode opens with Carmichael himself announcing that he is the best boyfriend ever because he’s taking his girlfriend somewhere that is a surprise. After a bit of back and forth, it is revealed that the somewhere that is a surprise is a Bill Cosby performance. Girlfriend is like “Hells, no, guy, what are you thinking?” and then they go to his parents’ house and then the entire episode becomes a lecture on separating art from the artist.
The different characters all had different viewpoints (Carmichael is especially for separating art from the artist; the father is for innocent until proven guilty; the girlfriend is for the 55 VICTIMS OF RAPE; the mother waffles back and forth and finally decides rapists are bad; the brother hates Cosby for being a jerk to young black kids; and the brother’s ex or something didn’t even know about it until she checked out wikipedia), which was nice, but it wasn’t funny. It was like a bunch of standup comedians hanging out and reading from a script. Some excellent points were made, but they were made so unnaturally it was kind of painful to watch.
Later, Carmichael and his dad (the under-utilized David Alan Grier, by the way) decide to go to the Cosby performance, but the dad has a change of heart when he sees parking is $25. He then drops off Carmichael in what leads to the only exchange that made me chuckle.
“You’re leaving me here? This is a bad neighborhood,” says Carmichael.
“There’s no such thing as bad neighborhoods,” says Dad. “Just bad people … who hang out … in neighborhoods like this one.”
There’s some discussion of Michael Jackson (accusations of pedophilia), Woody Allen (grossly married his stepdaughter) and Marky Mark (beat up an Asian man while shouting out racial slurs), which is, again, all very interesting (except in the case of Marky Mark, because why bother separating the art from the artist when they both suck?), but not funny. It seriously felt like somebody sitting me down and telling me what I should be thinking, and it wasn’t funny.
This weekend, the local paper had a headline about a “Pulitzer Prose reading.”
“Hmmm,” I said to myself. “I thought there was a Pulitzer Poetry reading this weekend, but I guess I must have been wrong.”
Anyway, I wasn’t wrong, and someone needs to tell the local paper that poetry means poetry and prose means, like, not poetry.
So it turns out the first uterus transplant didn’t go as well as they had hoped.
“Crapped out, eh?” said my father.
“No,” I replied. “I think they said they had to remove it.”