Our Bony Ambassador

Don't get me wrong: I think it's great that Angelina Jolie is helping raise awareness of the plight of the Somalis. But do these refugees want to give her a bowl of rice?

Seriously, her wasted muscles are straining to keep her huge head from toppling off its stalk into the poor woman's lap. Maybe instead of the baseball cap, the U.N. could have her wear a drinking helmet like this:


Just replace the cola with one of those protein drinks made for the elderly and bedridden, like Ensure. A volunteer could follow her around and keep the hat filled at all times.

We could start a fund to bring food to her French chateau. We could call it The Great Cheeseburger Airlift of 2009. Come on, people. We can do this!

Très Jolie:
Angelina Jolie, Beautiful Freakshow
High Brow, Low Brow, Meet-me-in-the-Middle Brow

Cum On Feel the Noize

It's a beautiful day outside and I have thrown open my windows. (Okay, I opened them gently: throwing them sounds strenous and needlessly violent.) As a result, I do not have the white noise of my air conditioner to buffer the sounds of city living.

A quick rundown: right now I am hearing street traffic, a subway train passing on the elevated tracks, a jackhammer...and birds. I am used to all of this. Unless my attention is drawn to it, I don't really notice this soundtrack. I can filter it out regardless of the state of my AC unit.

But there is one thing I can't ignore: someone within a few blocks seems to have grown enamored of an air horn and is working hard to get his or her money's worth out of it. All I need now is for my bongo-playing neighbor, who is decidedly not Matthew McConaughey, to start practicing.

I've been hearing the air horn at odd intervals for the past two hours. When I ran (okay, walked) to the store, I heard it a couple of times but not enough to locate its source. The blasts are too intermittent for me to track down and kick the person responsible in the balls and/or vagina--in NYC, you can never be sure--or I surely would.

As for bongo boy: he should take up a silent instrument or start wearing a cup.

Feckless Douche of the Week: Rush Limbaugh

It's easy to say that we should stop paying attention to Rush Limbaugh, that by repeating his hateful speech, we are keeping him on the national stage. If you believe that, then I've got news for you. A lot of people listen to him and he's not going away. His rhetoric needs to be dragged into the light and exposed as the stinking garbage it is. Here are a few recent examples from Tuesday's radio show:

Regarding Kanye West's rude behavior toward Taylor Swift at the VMAs,Rush said Obama was "probably just jealous" of Kanye's communication skills when Obama called him a "jackass."

Responding to police claims that an attack on a white student by black students on a bus was not racially motivated, Limbaugh said:

I think the guy’s wrong. I think not only it was racism, it was justifiable racism. I mean, that’s the lesson we’re being taught here today. Kid shouldn’t have been on the bus anyway. We need segregated buses — it was invading space and stuff. This is Obama’s America.

He also talked about how happy he is that "Obama's failing," that it's what he's wanted all along. He joked that on Monday Night football, whenever Tom Brady said "hut" it made him think of Obama's family in Kenya, and speculated that Obama doesn't help his family there because his "half-white side" is racist. Then he dropped this piece of philosophical excrement:

If homosexuality being inborn is what makes it acceptable, why does racism being inborn not make racism acceptable? I'm sorry -- I mean, this is the way my mind works. But apparently now we don't choose racism, we just are racists. We are born that way. We don't choose it. So shouldn't it be acceptable, excuse -- this is according to the way the left thinks about things.

Why does anyone listen to this asshole? Apparently, this is what passes for revolutionary, patriotic thought in his fans' minds. This would be laughable if people didn't hang on the buffoon's every ignorant word. It's the Gospel of Saint Hate.


We've had a lot of celebrities die this year. Rush's ample adipose tissue must hold a pharmacy's worth of Oxycontin but the guy just won't overdose. If only he would learn the pleasures of autoerotic asphyxiation without the safety measures....It would take an awfully strong closet rod to hold him up. Start researching fine hotels and I'll get the belt.

More about Rush:
Listening to Limbaugh
Stop Picking on Rush Limbaugh!

Feckless Liar of the Week: Spencer Pratt

Today, Life Without Feck inaugurates its new feature by recognizing the chutzpah of the talentless douchebag, celebritard and creator of the socially transmitted disease known as "Speidi," Spencer Pratt.

To be fair, it's not uncommon for folks to exaggerate to impress others. But Heidi Montag's better half and self-professed king of all media has gone one toke over the line with his claim of scoring 1490 on his SAT exam.

"760 math, 730 verbal," the Hills star, 26, who majored in political science at the University of Southern California, boasted to Us.

It would be giving him too much credit to call him a bullshit artist. He doesn't paint with it; he just smears it all over the walls and says, "Look what I made!" I like Jon Hamm's assessment of the fame-whoring couple in Elle magazine. They're "famous for nothingness." And not the good Buddhist kind of nothingness, I might add.

I'd like to challenge Mr. Pratt to provide proof of his SAT score. I'm guessing he doubled it. Though I don't want to contribute even in a miniscule way to his fame, I am curious. When Al Roker tweets, "I think we're at minute 11 of their 15," I hope he's being charitable. I'd be happy if we're at 14:59 and I'd never see them or write about them again.

I HEART NY

More of my favorites from
Overheard in New York

20-something bum: Excuse me, miss, can I please have a cigarette?
Young woman smoking: Sure.
20-something bum: Thank you so much. I just took a huge hit of heroin and a cigarette after is the balls.
Young woman smoking: Well, happy trails!

--14th St & 3rd Ave

*****

Ghetto mother: Say goodbye to your daddy because you ain't never gonna see him again.
Ghetto child: Bye daddy!

--Staten Island Ferry Terminal

*****

Tourist dad: Sorry, but where are we right now?
Local: Midgard.
Tourist dad: Thanks! Wait, what?

--Union Square

*****

Hipster to 50-something tourist who is blocking the way: Hey, lady, where you from?
Woman, proudly: Kansas.
Hipster: Well, Dorothy, this is not Kansas. This is Times Square, New York City, now get the fuck out of the way! (crowd cheers)

--Times Square

*****

Tourist, taking photo to woman walking in front of camera: Hey! You ruined my picture!
Aggravated city woman: And you ruined my city!

--Grand Central Station

I NY!

9/9/09: So What?

Today's date is a big deal. The symmetry of it seems to inspire magical thinking. There are numerous product launches and long lines to buy lottery tickets.

9/9/09

I found out that for the Win 4 NY Lottery, the numbers 9939 have sold out, at least in the bodega I frequent. I'm not sure how a number can max out, but the guy ahead of me was nonplussed that he couldn't use those numbers. He then went on to play 99D9, which he had written on a piece of paper. When I glanced over his shoulder, he looked at me like I was trying to steal a state secret.

If you are Muslim, Jewish or Chinese and observe a different calendar altogether, you are completely left out of the special nature of this particular day. I think it should be obvious that if you live by the Mayan calendar, you might as well buy a ticket every day, since you know we're all screwed as of 12/21/12 anyway.

Of course, if you use the whole year 2009, the numerological magic breaks down completely. Those silly superstitious fools. But I bought a Quick Pick, just in case.