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Thursday, March 31, 2005


Blogger's instability over the last two weeks have broken me and my thriftiness. So....does anyone know a good web designer who can move me over to some other platform and set me up with my very own non-blogger url?

Wednesday, March 30, 2005


Schiavo's parents sell list of "Terri's supporters" to marketing company.


He had a tumor in his head and now he's dead.

Tuesday, March 29, 2005


Ever realize how often you say "I don't know," when you really mean "I don't care" ?

Slip Slidin' Away
Something or someone or nothing and everything is pulling me away from New York.
I can't imagine why.
There's only one place that I have visited and left before that desperate need to be home practically overwhelmed me and really I can't imagine a sober professional life in New Orleans, so moving there is out of the question.
I did some joke searches last week about free land grants in the Midwest. And wouldn't you know, the very next day, Matt Lauer had a Today Show segment on it:
"Free land? Yes. The catch? You've got to move to Kansas," was the tagline.
But more and more, I'm starting to think that's not so much a catch as a lure. (I don't fish, are those the same things?)
Kansas, prairies, long drives with the ipod, I am so there.
Even the prospect of taking the California bar doesn't seem so daunting.
I had dinner recently with a college friend who moved out to Texas for two years and I listened jealously as she talked about her house and friends and bridge games.
(Well, not so much with the bridge -- but I'm guessing I could teach Dallas how to play Hold 'Em.)
Someone would say: "Hey, whatever happened to Dawn Summers?"
"Oh, haven't you heard? She's Mayor of Carson City now," would be the reply.
But what happens the first time I'm out on the range and wolves attack?
Or rednecks.
Maybe, I'll just retire to Florida early.

Monday, March 28, 2005


Evidently, the armed forces are having a tough time filling their ranks. Meanwhile, in other news the past 20 years has seen an unprecedented explosion of this country's prison population.

Now, I ain't no mathematicist, but I'd say the time has come for some kind of xXx(the movie not the adult industry) program where men with life sentences can volunteer to serve their time on the frontlines. It's not everyday you're going to find free labor.


Happened. Huge success. Gag order imposed.


Baby taken off life support against mother's wishes.

But if Bill Frist gets his way, the hospital would have taken out all his organs first.


Condoleezza Rice is expected to support administration officials who want to leave even if what is left behind does not constitute perfection.

Maybe the Secretary of State is eyeing a White House bid after all....

Because I'm a sucker for the underdog

Go Michigan State.


Man arrested in murder for hire plot targeting Judge Greer and Michael Schiavo.

Sunday, March 27, 2005


Sleeping in the nude: horrific nightmare or last refuge of the perverse?

Friday, March 25, 2005


In the pre "Heat Hotline" days, Winter in East Coco Beach could be brutal. My nighttime rituals involved multi-layering and accessories.
"You ready for bed?"
"Where's your other glove?"
"I can't find it."
Would be a fairly typical bedtime conversation in the Summers' household when I was little.
And when the heat disappeared along with the hot water, we would sleep, fully clothed, on chairs in the kitchen in front of the open oven.
If the cold became unbearable we would sleep at my mom's friends' houses -- me crowding into bed with their kids and my mom dozing on their couches.
The worst days were when we had to stay with mom's co-worker because we had spent too many nights in a row at her friends' apartments and didn't want to risk wearing out her welcome.
He was a cranky, disheveled divorcee, who lived alone in a kitchenette deep in the ghetto of the ECB.
His hair was unkempt, his toenails yellowed and deformed and, though I couldn't identify it then, his whole person reeked of the stench of urine.
He would open his door for us wearing nothing but boxer shorts, one hand scratching his belly and the other squeezing the remains of a cigarette.
His landlady had never come to get the tattered, stained mattress the previous tenant of his one room apartment left behind, and so, on these occassions, he would lay it flat on the floor a few inches from his bed and that's where my mom and I would sleep.
Moments after the lights went out, I could hear scratching sounds slide across the floor and the high pitched squeaking that echoes through old apartment buildings.
"Ignore them. You're fine. I'm watching."
And then she would tell me bible stories until I fell asleep. Jesus being born in a manger was my favorite.
"I wonder if there were rats in there?"
"Probably" she'd laugh.
It was those nights sleeping on a stranger's old mattress and hundreds just like it in other locales that would blossom into my faith in God and salvation and spirituality.
Hours spent in church and Sunday School were my favorite times of the week.
In the midst of grey ominous skies and dirty threatening streets, the doors to Holy Cross revealed a world of beautiful mosaic floors, colorful stained glass windows, and gaping infinite arches. Each panel, carving and statute telling the story of of God's love and sacrifice.
I loved being in church. And not just because it was warm and I could feel my fingers and face again. I would quote scripture with the nuns and get pats on my head from Father O'brien when I had asked just a few dozen questions too many.
"Do cops go to hell if they shoot a criminal?"
"If someone kills themself, doesn't that mean that's how God wanted them to die?"
"Can God, Jesus and the Holy Spirit see each other or are they all together inside God until they change...like He-Man?"
(Father O'brien would later repeat the story of me asking him that for years until he was promoted to Pastor at another parish. I think he liked the He-Man part most of all.)
But whatever the question, the answer was almost always a combination of believe in God as he believes in you and love thy neighbor as you love yourself.
In essence, have faith.
How do I know Jesus is the son of God?
Because I believe it.
And in believing it, know it.
Just like I knew, even though I was fast asleep, that the mice wouldn't get me because my mom was watching.
Oh, and in case you were wondering, no, God's not like Adam and He-Man.

*Well, not like 'good' good, like holy good.

Thursday, March 24, 2005


I programmed it to record the premiere of 'The Office.'
About thirty seconds in, I was reaching for my thesaurus to find out how many ways I could say bland.

Ten minutes in, the watchword was boring (except for that guy tapping that other guy on the shoulder and making him look the other way: hilarious.)

Finally, twenty minutes in, it was all about the killing of myself.

Suddenly at minute 21, the recording abrubtly ends!

Some say "power outage," I say "mutual understanding."



Sure my watching trailed off with the addition of the dull monotonous baritone of Robert Patrick's Doggett. Whose didn't? And yes I stopped watching altogether once it was a choice between Alias and the vacuous Monica Reyes, I mean - really, talk about a no-brainer.

But I always assumed that one day, years from then, I would tune in to Fox, catching those last episodes in syndication and be satisfied that it all came to a good end.

No such luck.

Obviously learning nothing from Jerry Seinfeld's folly, Chris Carter chooses a flashback sham trial to end the series? Then sentences Mulder to death? AND kills the cigarette smoking man? Not to mention the geek Trio (suddenly Jonathan, Warren and Andrew make a little more sense) all bite it at the same time?

For shame. Shame. Shame. Shame. Shame. Shame.

Not that I won't plunk down the 20 dollars to go see the movie on December 22, 2012. But still.

That sucked.


Hi, I know I just wrote to you a few months ago, but Steve Rubel had this awesome idea and I just couldn't resist.
As always thank you for your program. Every day it provides rich inspiration to millions of Americans (and free cars to a select lucky few!). As a major media personality, you might be aware of a growing phenomenon called "blogging" – short for web logging. To my knowledge you haven’t had any bloggers on your program but now might be a great time to do so.
Blogging has empowered more than 8 million citizens worldwide to do great things. Some are citizen journalists. They report news and even occasionally fact-check the media as well. Dan Rather experienced this first hand, as I am sure you have heard. Other bloggers are using the personal publishing medium to express their pain and find spiritual guidance as they battle terrible diseases – such as cancer. Meanwhile thousands of employees inside corporate America are blogging and there are even celebrity bloggers as well.
I am one of these eight million bloggers. I blog on current events at http://www.clarified.blogspot.com. If you would like my assistance in finding great bloggers for your program, please contact me at dawnsummers3000 at yahoo.com
Thank you for your time and for listening.
Dawn Summers
PS – You should have your own blog too. Rosie does!
via Jeff Jarvis


"Give us your money!"

Donate to March of Dimes WalkAmerica Drive.


But Ann Coulter even scares the religious right.

Wednesday, March 23, 2005


BUT...They killed off the Lone Gunmen?!!?

What the hell?

Dawn's Music Blogging

Me:Who are the Smiths?
Karol: What?
Me: Rubber Ring, Smiths?
Karol: Oh.
Me: Are they the brother/sister, husband/wife people?
Karol: No, buddy, no. They're Morrissey's band.
Me: Van Morrissey?
Karol: No, buddy no.



'Coppers bust pre-teen hydraters' or 'Pre-teens exploited by crazed parents'.


"Liberals" are being accused of twisted logic in the Terri Schiavo case. But the facts tell a different story:

Let me break it down for you:

10. Liberals are against the death penalty for Scott Peterson. Liberals are for the death penalty for Terri Schiavo.

The death penalty is being imposed on Scott Peterson as punishment for his crimes, the United States is among only a handful of nations in the world that utilitize the barbaric practice of killing its own citizens for this purpose. There is no rehabilitative or deterrent purpose for the death penalty. It's blood letting for sake of and in my humble unimportant opinion, should be unconstitutional as cruelty.
Terri Schiavo, on the other hand, asked that her husband refused treatment for her, if it meant living in her current state. Forcing someone to take treatment that they don't want, is also an unconstitutional cruelty.

9. For liberals, there's no such thing as states' rights on abortion, juvenile executions, prayer in school, prohibiting contraceptives, and the drinking age. When it comes to starving disabled people to death, though, liberals sound like Jefferson Davis on states' rights.

States totally have rights on abortion, they don't have the right to unconstitutionally infringe on a federal right to privacy. Ditto on contraceptives. As for juvenile executions, it was the movement of the majority of states away from this disgraceful practice that helped develop the national consensus that this is cruel and unusual. The states were at the heart of the Supreme Court's decision on that. Prayer in school? We prayed in Catholic school all the live long day when I was a kid...am I missing something? Drinking age -- as far as I know states are perfectly free to pick whatever drinking age they want. The federal government just said if you want federal funding for your highways, it should be 21. Seems fair enough to this liberal. You want your youngsters boozing it up, use your own dime to pay for the roads you'll be scraping their bodies off of.

8. Liberals sued the state of Florida in federal court in 1999, arguing that the electric chair is "cruel and unusual punishment." Liberals now want the state of Florida to starve a woman to death, and decry efforts to sue in federal court to stop this.

No liberal wants "the state of Florida to starve a woman to death." See, that would be like, say, wanting a state to electrocute a person to death, or shoot them to death, or poison them to death. No good. But if a woman says I don't want that treatment. Well, that's her choice.

7. Liberals hoped to better the lives of Christopher Reeve and other disabled people by killing human emrbyos with taxdollars. Liberals want to better the life of Terri Schiavo by killing her and saving taxdollars.

"Killing" human embryos? Not hardly. These embryos are abandoned and frozen. Without a womb they're no more killable than the sperms and eggs used to make them. As for Terri, again, this liberal doesn't want to better or worsen her, she doesn't want the feeding tube treatment. What are you gonna do make her? How about cancer patients who want to go the holistic route rather than the hardcore chemo? Do we strap them down and zap em anyway?

6. When a twentysomething woman bludgeons two people with a pick-ax and then mutilates their corpses with the same murder instrument, liberals call George W. Bush a murderer for not sparing her from the gas chamber. When a twentysomething woman becomes disabled, liberals castigate George W. Bush for trying to spare her from death.

I don't call George Bush a murderer for not signing a stay of execution for Karla Faye Tucker. I call him a douchebag for making fun of her application by mocking her voice saying "don't kill me, don't kill me" TO A REPORTER. Pompous....
I castigate George Bush for acting like he knows what Terri wants better than she did.

5. In 1990, it took Florida 19 minutes to kill convicted murderer Jesse Joseph Tafero. In 2005, it will take Florida days, if not weeks, to kill Terri Schiavo. Want to guess which case bothers liberals and which doesn't?

First off, Jesse Tafero was probably innocent of that murder. So, yeah, bothers me a natch that the state might have set him on fire for a crime he didn't commit. But again, see all my answers on the death penalty. Not a fan. But court after court has found that Terri would not want this treatment, so the state isn't killing her. This is her choice. Much like people who die because they choose faith healers instead of pennicillin.

4. Starve a cat in Florida, and the law authorizes incarceration. Feed a woman in the Woodside Hospice, and Florida liberals will send you to jail.

Well, if this is true, that's just retarded. "Starve a cat, Get a hat." Now, that's my motto. Force treatment on a patient that has declined it? Well, that's probably assault or battery (like say harvesting organs from a patient whose family hasn't authorized such a procedure).

3. In 1999, a Florida court decided to honor Elian Gonzalez's mother's wishes that her son stay with relatives in Florida. Liberals disagreed with the Florida court, and sent armed federal agents to send the boy back to Cuba. Now that a Florida court has issued a ruling in a family dispute more to their liking, liberals are saying that a new federal law--granting federal courts the right to overturn (or not overturn) the Schiavo decision--will "undermine over 200 years of jurisprudence."

Elian was an illegal immigrant. It is unlawful to illegally come here. Lord knows, if the federal government has any job at all, it is to keep the borders secure. Right. Kids are sent back to their home countries after breaking our immigration laws, all the time.

2. Legislative attempts to encourage the able-bodied to work rather than collect food stamps are likened to starving poor people by liberals. Actually starving someone to death, on the other hand, is okay with them.

Legislative attempts to subsidize corporations like McDonald's and Walmart by threatening to withhold welfare money unless people take these kinds of jobs, is ridiculous and I don't understand why anyone would want tax payer money used to pay employees of these companies, rather than having company pay salaries and health benefits for their own workers. Where's that wacky ownsership society, I'm always hearing so much about? Terri declining treatment, her decision.

1. For liberals, the 14th Amendment bans religious displays in public places and mandates that state governments provide services to illegal aliens. Heaven forbid that some Republican interpret it to mean that a state can't "deprive any person of life, liberty, or property, without due process of law; nor deny to any person within its jurisdiction the equal protection of the laws."

The constitution isn't for liberals or Republicans to interpret, that's the job of our judges. And so far, all but one have found that Terri's wishes should be respected.

Via Dawn Eden

and Karol kinda

Tuesday, March 22, 2005


Today we kick off the annual Clareified March of Dimes drive. Today in the U.S., 1 in every 8 babies will be born prematurely. Some of them won't survive, and others will have health problems that could last a lifetime.

My friend's daughter (See above) was born 7.2 weeks early. She is thriving but not all babies are that lucky, so she is going to participate in WalkAmerica. (My friend, not her baby. Although the baby is pretty smart and probably could walk if she wanted. She waved at me and said my name when I went to visit her a couple of weeks ago. Not that anybody else believes me, but trust me, it happened.)

The funds raised in WalkAmerica support research that saves babies' lives.

So Please give generously.


I wish I could go back to college.
Life was so simple back then.

What would I give to go back and live in a dorm with a meal plan again!

I wish I could go back to college.
In college you know who you are.
You sit in the quad, and think, "Oh my God!
I am totally gonna go far!"

How do I go back to college?
I don't know who I am anymore!

I wanna go back to my room and find a message in dry-erase pen on the door!
I wish I could just drop a class...

Where's the Love?

The news that the "lovely C" was throwing a blogger party this weekend began my latest quest for truth and justice. Of course, my extreme laziness requires that all quests be run from either my bed or my recliner.
So, I took my place in the arms of my oversized green chair and started my journey.
Alarmingnews.com. Check.
Oooh, search box. Excellent.
"Lovely" Enter.
Go on. Try it.
The search locates 22 hits for the word lovely.
But I was interested only in one particular usage:
The "lovely Jessica" for example, which nets four hits, by far the most lovely of any of the other lovely nouns.
But you've also got the lovely Jen of All Things, the lovely Funnya, the lovely Ari, obviously the lovely C who started it all and even "lovely Dawn Eden." Yes, that Dawn Eden.
Wives of bloggers from Colorado's Marvin to Georgia's Gib are lovely one and all.The adjective even crossed gender lines, so that we have the day the world was introduced to the serial phone pick upper being described as "the lovely Peter's birthday."
However, in the midst of all this loveliness, what is glaringly missing?
That's right. Yours truly.
Sure, an argument could be made that I am included in the "lovely people at the blogger party at Fashion" but that's just not good enough.
I deserve, correction, demand more.


The Lovely Dawn Summers.


Weary after an emotional visit with his wife, Schiavo said he is astonished that politicians want to interfere in such a private matter.

"Instead of worrying about my wife, who was granted her wishes by the state courts the past seven years, they should worry about the pedophiles killing young girls," Schiavo said, referring to a local case. "Why doesn't Congress worry about people not having health insurance? Or the budget? Let's talk about all the children who don't have homes."

He said U.S. House Majority Leader Tom DeLay, who is leading a charge to extend Terri Schiavo's life, is a "little slithering snake" pandering for votes.

"To make comments that Terri would want to live, how do they know?" Schiavo said of the members of Congress who want to keep his wife alive.

"Have they ever met her?" Schiavo said. "What color are her eyes? What's her middle name? What's her favorite color? They don't have any clue who Terri is. They should all be ashamed of themselves."

Schiavo said he was going to stay at his wife's side through the entire ordeal and said he wouldn't back down in his fight to have her wishes carried out.

"Terri died 15 years ago," Schiavo said, referring to the collapse and cardiac arrest that doctors say virtually destroyed her brain. "It's time for her to be with the Lord like she wanted to be."

So sad.

Judge Declines To Reinsert Feeding Tube

The judge assigned to the case, James Whittemore, expressed skepticism about the Schindlers' lawsuit. "I think you'd be hard-pressed to convince me that you have a substantial likelihood" of success, he said, declining to give an immediate order to restore the feeding tube.

The attorneys for the Schindlers need to weave their way around some difficult Supreme Court precedents. The 1990 Cruzan case made it clear that a person in a persistent vegetative state has a constitutional right to be removed from a feeding tube. In a 1997 ruling, Chief Justice William H. Rehnquist affirmed that the Cruzan case assumed that "the due process clause protects the traditional right to refuse unwanted lifesaving medical treatment." And in the 1995 Plaut ruling, written by Justice Antonin Scalia, the court struck down an effort by Congress to direct courts to reopen final judicial judgments.

Monday, March 21, 2005


Well, the whole gang's back together now - minus all the hyper blond Season 3 people.

Maybe George Mason will come to Jack in a dream.

I hate the set-up episodes like this one...all recap and build up..little substance. Of course, CTU does maintain its perfect record of having every suspect taken into custody die. Sometimes even mentally ill little kids bite it.
Oh, and 24 finally provides the best explanation for the military's strict 'no adultery' policy.

On a completely random walk through Dawn's brain, I wonder what the students at Green University will do once they hear that Professor Fayed died in an explosion on Napier Bridge. I bet there will be a memorial or something.

Will TerrorKid now be known as TerrorOrphan? How come we don't get any storylines about this President? I bet he's got some crazy skeletons in his martial law declaring closet.

Oh, and I maintain that Heller is the WORST. Worst Actor, Worst Character. Worst Father. Worst Secretary of Defense. WORST WORST WORST. ARRRGGGHHH.

That is all.

TOUGH LOVE FOR TERRI (by guest blogger pearatty)

I'm confused by conservative pundits like Mark Levin who equate taking away Terri Schiavo's feeding tube to murder.
Seems to me removing the tube is the ultimate in the Republican ideal of individual responsibility.
Terri is entitled, like the rest of us living under this administration, to all the food and drink she is able to acquire for herself through hard work and perseverance. If that girl doesn't want to dehydrate to death, she should pull herself up by the bootstraps and fetch herself a beverage.


Prosecutors are investigating the death of a man who was subdued by several fellow airline passengers after he became disruptive on a New York-bound flight, a spokesman said Sunday.

William Lee was pronounced dead late Friday after he was removed from the American Airlines flight at Kennedy International Airport. The cause of death had not yet been determined and was under investigation.

The exact scene happened on a CSI episode a few years ago.

Grissom called it murder, but Brass let the passengers walk.


But no.

You're stuck inside Fahrenheit 451, which book do you want to be?
I've never read this book, but I saw Michael Moore's movie last summer. Does that count? Of course, I could cheat like Candace did and pick some other book that I'd like to be. Hands down, that would be Middlesex and not because I'm a hermaphodite. Because I'm not. Anymore.
I like the way the novel threads through the generations. The idea that decisions your grandparents make determine who you are, appeals to me. It gives your attorney something to hang your case on when you're on trial for murder.
Have you ever had a crush on a fictional character?
Sure, Holden Caulfied. Sigh. mmmm…Holden.
The last book you bought is:
John Irving's "A Widow For One Year."
The last book you read:
The last book I read was Anna Karenina. It was a very traumatic experience. I have not been able to have a successful relationship with a book since then for the fear that it will be as painful and disappointing as the Anna Karenina experience.
What are you currently reading?
Sadly, I am actually doing homework reading: "Bargaining for Advantage" by G. Richard Shell. I have to finish it for my CLE class two weeks from now. It's okay for a homework book. Here’s a depressing excerpt:
[L]et me illustrate how our need to maintain consistency with social roles and routines can interfere with our abilities to communicate and, ultimately, negotiate effectively. This tragic example comes from an actual conversation between the captain and copilot of an Air Florida flight departing from Washington, D.C. National Airport…
Captain: I think we get to go here in a minute.
Copilot: [referring to engine instrument readings]: That doesn't seem right, does it? [Pause.] Ah, that's not right.
Captain: Yes, it is. There's eighty.
Copilot: Naw, I don't think that's right. Ah…maybe it is.
Captain: Hundred and twenty.
Copilot: I don't know.
[The plane takes off, struggles to gain lift, and then begins to fall into the Potomac River.]
Copilot: Larry, we're going down. Larry.
Captain: I know…

The lesson Shell is trying to teach here has something to do with not being so quick to defer to authority figures. The lesson I learned was never fly.

Five books you would take to a deserted island.
1. Bible (I'd finally have the time to finish the whole thing.)
2. Roots, by Alex Haley. (So, so, so good)
3. Les Miserables by Victor Hugo
4. 100 Years of Solitude (in Spanish) (Why not? it's not like I'll have anyplace to be.)
5. Spanish/English dictionary (or else number 4 is going to get really frustrating, really quickly.)

Who are you going to pass this stick to (3 persons)
and why?
I'm guessing I can't boomerang it to the mean chick who sent it my way, so…
1. We'll throw it over to the meanest chick on the Upper East side
2. My Television obssessed counterpart in Tennessee, Big Orange Michael.
3. And the leanest, meanest cop Florida doesn't have.

Sunday, March 20, 2005


So Alan Shore has now locked lips with every lawyer in that firm?


And Iocaste thinks the whole situation reminds her of something.

Of course, my favoritest quote from this weekend's insanity was:

"We should investigate every avenue before we take the life of a living human being," said House Majority Leader Tom DeLay, R-Texas.

Did I mention that was the Republican House Majority Leader from Texas?


"That one gets pregnant, it stays pregnant"

-Arrested Development's Gob on George Michael's uber-religious girlfriend.


Adam Sandler was the cute "boy-next-door" comedian who charmed Saturday Night Live audiences with his guitar playing and quirky songs who went on to star in romantic comedies with Drew Barrymore.

Jimmy Fallon, on the other hand...

Friday, March 18, 2005


Rowland to serve year in prison starting April 1.

Prosecutors had asked for a three-year sentence. There's also a very suspicious quote from Rowland's attorney:

"I'm pleased we had a judge as wise and sensitive and responsible as Judge Dorsey," he said.

Is it just me or does that sound like some kind of coded message to the people holding Judge Dorseys wife or kids hostage to release them unharmed?

Like if Rowland had gotten three years, the lawyer might have said something like "We are extremely disappointed in Judge Dorsey's decision. It's unfortunate he did not see things our way." And then, it would mean curtains for the family.

OK, so I'm probably watching too much '24.'


Peggy Noonan wants the Republican leadership to assault the staff at the hospice caring for Terri.

Bill Frist and Tom DeLay and Jim Sensenbrenner and Denny Hastert and all the rest would be better off risking looking ridiculous and flying down to Florida, standing outside Terri Schiavo's room and physically restraining the poor harassed staff who may be told soon to remove her feeding tube, than standing by in Washington, helpless and tied in legislative knots, and doing nothing.

Luckily, the Florida police know just how to handle people who physically attack others.

Dawn Eden's readers have a better idea.

One I wholeheartedly endorse: all the empassioned Schiavo supporters, including the Senators who supoened the woman to a hearing today should all refrain from all food or drink until the tube goes back in.

Think Peggy'll get on board or is she just about men physically intimidating staff workers.


Soldiers, their advocates and lawyers who specialize in military law say they have watched a few service members try ever more unlikely and desperate routes: taking drugs in the hope that they will be kept home after positive urine tests, for example; or seeking psychological or medical reasons to be declared nondeployable, including last-minute pregnancies.

A continuing series.

'Lucas calls new 'Star Wars' a titanic tearjerker'

My guess is because some of us will have to pay 15 bucks to see the sucky movie in theaters.


For the past week, life, work and Sci-Fi marathons have conspired to keep me from really paying attention to what was happening in the world, let alone blog about it. Of course, for the final word on drilling in the ANWR, Bernie Ebbers and the bankruptcy bill, go read Spitzer’s Number One Groupie.

I can only hang my head and cry.

However, I crawl out of my cave today to find the U.S. Congress holding hearings on steroids in baseball and Terri Schiavo?!?!!!!

Are you kidding me? What next? Cocaine in corporate America? Pot on college campuses? Caffeine on the playground? At least in those scenarios our legislators would be dealing with illegal substances and children (will somebody please think of the children?)
Steroids are not an illegal substance. Baseball players are not government employees – why the hell are my tax dollars being spent on this nonsense? This is what we get from a Republican Congress?

And…and… a bill for Terri Schiavo?
Come on.
No doubt what is happening to her sucks beyond belief – either she’s been forced to live seven years in a state she specifically said she didn’t want to live in or she’s about to be starved to death against her wishes – but there is no way in hell this is a congressional issue.
It’s not like there is an epidemic of persistent vegetative state patients and our courts are constantly flooded with these kinds of disputes. This is a waste of our national resources and demonstrates a pronounced lack of understanding about what they are sent to D.C. to do.
What are you people bored? Can’t think of anything else to do? Did the two wars end while I was buried in paper last week? Have you finished with the whole children living in poverty thing? Are our borders secure already? Dealt with the debt? The trade deficit? Upgrading the nation’s infrastructure?
Well, since you guys have some downtime, I wonder if you could set me up with an apartment here in New York City. The Co-op boards in New York are being so crazy with their downpayment requirements.
I don’t even really need any money. (I mean, if you want to appropriate me a couple of hundred thousand, don’t get me wrong, I will take it) But if you could pass some kind of Dawn’s Law that just says that if the bank approves my financing arrangement no co-op board can block my application, I’d be ever so grateful.
Hey, just think, not only will it give you something to do, but you can put a notch on both your new black homeowners and your new latino homeowners belts.

Thursday, March 17, 2005


Seems everywhere I go lately, I end up in a discussion about New York AG Eliot Spitzer.
At Karen's birthday party last Saturday, Iocaste practically salivated at the very mention of his name...oh that Eliot's supoena power is ever so dreamy, her eyes seemed to say.

Then yesterday I asked Karol why she didn't like Spitzer even though she fawns over George W. and Rumsfeld's head cracking pursuit of justice. "He's anti-business," she replied. Then today I find this amazing article about the Spitzer legacy.

It's from January so many of you have probably already seen it, but DAMN.

This piece is at once inspiring, terrifying and utterly hilarious!

Here are my favorite quotes:

Businesspeople, defense attorneys, and, lately, insurance men see an entirely different character. Spitzer, they say, has turned prosecutions into power showdowns and personal drubbings. “Authoritarian, liberal egomaniac,” says one businessman. Even his lawyer friends discreetly remove their names from fund-raisers so as not to enrage corporate clients.

Rosoff wondered why this had to be handled with a messy subpoena. Then he coolly assured Brown he was all over the situation. “There’s a Chinese wall,” he told Brown. “We make sure the brokers who place the insurance never know about the commissions [from insurers].” Rosoff suggested that though Marsh did indeed take the added money, there was no harm in it, since the customers were still getting the best deal.
“That turned out to be complete nonsense,” says Brown.
Seven months later, a fiery, fed-up Spitzer seemed ready to put Marsh & McLennan out of business.
“Eliot,” as Brown explains, “lends speed and violence to this process that you wouldn’t believe.”


He’d tell Marsh, “If your company wants a settlement that permits survival, a threshold demonstration of reform means transition to new leadership.” In legalistic talk of thresholds and transitions, Spitzer lent violence to the process. He demanded heads on a spike.

“You never want to tell Spitzer to go fuck himself,” said one close observer, which is, in effect, what Marsh seemed to be doing by not coming clean. As Spitzer would later say, “I don’t know why Marsh reacted the way it did. It will go down as a case study of how not to handle an investigation.”

Bid-rigging ushered in the criminal side of Spitzer’s office, his most aggressive lawyers, the people who, as Brown thought of it, took people away from their families. Peter Pope—the 46-year-old Yale Law School graduate and head of the criminal division—“is a hard-ass, capital H, capital A,” says one who works with him.

Spitzer can be a gracious host; perhaps it is his preferred mode. If attacked, he responds belligerently, especially if an attack aims, as Brown put it, at “his determination or his manhood.” Once, in a heated argument with California’s attorney general, Spitzer said, “You want to step outside? That’s fine. I grew up in the Bronx.” (He was raised in upscale Riverdale—technically in the Bronx.)
“What choice did I have [in the Merrill case]?” Spitzer reflects. “Either I go home, or I say, ‘You think you can intimidate me? Screw you. Choose your weapon.’ ”

Read the whole thing. Twice.


I was there when we became friends, where was I when we became strangers?

Lil' Kim Convicted On Perjury Charges

Petite rap star faces 20 years in prison.


I wonder if Martha's bunk is still open?*

*Yes, I know that Lil' Kim is going to a state facility.

Wednesday, March 16, 2005


Black Americans remain convinced that he really did kill his wife.


I don't understand how the following description is a negative one:

But even in his heyday, the East Brunswick lawyer had a dark side. Outside of work, Weiner was known for gambling and for buying rounds of drinks in bars.

I thought everyone liked the guy that bought the rounds of drinks.


I need one. And quick. Any suggestions?

ECB Metropolitans so far include:

Derek Jeter, SS (Team Captain)
Alex Rodriquez, 2B (or 3B... something like that)
Pedro Martinez, SP

I need basemen, OF, Pitchers, Relievers now. (Assume that superstars (like Barry Bonds TM) are gone by now. I need solid 30th,40th,50th round picks)


I am 73% Asshole/Bitch.
Sort of Assholy or Bitchy!
I am abrasive, some people really hate me, but there may be a group of other tight knit assholes and bitches that I can hang out with and get me. Everybody else? Fuck ‘em.
Take the
Asshole/Bitch Test
@ FualiDotCom

via not so bitchy Big Orange Michael

Boy commutes to school by mule

Poor kid... to think I thought riding to school with her was the worst.


It was my college roommate's birthday last week and after e-mailing her to say Happy Birthday, I mentioned that it had been a while since we'd seen each other and maybe I would roadtrip down with our other roommate from New York to visit her down in one of the Carolinas (I always get them and the Dakotas mixed up).

Days went by, until I received this response yesterday:

You ladies are welcome anytime if you can stand a small house with one
guest room, 2 slobbering dogs, and dog hair everywhere. But don't
sunshine...it was below freezing today :(.

Oh, and wear
gloves if you come b/c [our english mastiff] will bite the bejesus out of you (we're still
on the "no bite" command).

Aww...you had me at hello.

Quote Of the Day

Gib: We could help fix up a friend. Dawn Summers is looking for a guy. Do you know any rich, Irish Catholic black men?
Spouse: Did I marry you?
Gib: Yes.
Spouse: Then it should be pretty obvious that I don't know anyone like that, shouldn't it?


Tuesday, March 15, 2005


It's Nina!!

Getting What You Pay For (by guest blogger pearatty)

We interrupt your Clarified broadcasting for a boring but informative survey.

My personal email account company has gotten increasingly annoying (it was a cool little startup, but they sold the company), and I have to pay for the account. I figure if it's going to be annoying, I should just get a free account somewhere else. And who better to ask than the wise and thoughtful Clarified readership?

So: do you have a free (or cheap) email account somewhere, and are you relatively happy with it? Factors to consider include ease of use, quantity of spam, and available bytes. Thank you for your participation. You will be returned to your normal Clarified programming after responding in the comments section.


NBC considers extending ER contract through 2008!!!!!!!! I don't know if there has ever been a viewer driven campaign to take a show off the air, a la "Save Enterprise," but if not, the first should be to yank ER.


You're never completely useless, you can always serve as a bad example.


Former WorldCom exec faces 85 years in prison.


“Before we got married we were on tour, and we were just like kids, ordering room service, saying, ‘Let’s go out tonight. Then, all of a sudden, you have this home, you have the kids [Federline’s children Kaleb and Kori], you have to get the diapers, get the dog to the vet. It’s this reality. Like omigod, I have to tell the maid to buy diapers and get the pool boy to walk the dog? Can’t I just make out with Kevin all the time? Being married sucks.”

Like, seriously.

And now, the real question is why I had to find out about this from Rick, rather than from annika, keeper of all things Britney.


Since when did Dessler grow a pair? I can't believe the woman we saw last night was the same neophyte sycophant that whined her way through Season 3?


I wake up early this morning to move my car from the street to the garage before the street sweepers (or the ticket givers) come by at 8:30. As I am winding my way through the streets of the ECB, nestled in my seatbelt and singing along to Rick Astley, I decide that I am warm, comfortable and sitting -- why would I trade that for a morning of straphanging?

So, I drive all the way to work!

Never mind, it costs $50 to park here for the day. I got to listen to my entire torch song playlist.

Monday, March 14, 2005


dawnsummers: love makes you do the wacky
Karol: do the wacky what?
dawnsummers: that's it: love makes you do the wacky


The Legal Underground has some great advice for litigators:

Make Sure You're Really Off the Record Before Turning to Another Lawyer to Say "I'll Fucking Kick Your Ass"
In addition, it's always bad form to call your opponent's law firm and threaten to kill one of their lawyers.

True dat.

via Iocaste


Suffering from some crazy form of insomnia that means I can't fall asleep until 3 a.m., then wake up at 5 a.m., then fall asleep again at 8:30, has thus far meant that I get to catch up on my Quantum Leap/Twilight Zone watching.

The Sci-Fi channel is fast becoming my favorite.

I am even sorta kinda getting into Sliders now. (Because, obviously, what I need in my life is another television show) Of course, now that I get to watch the 2 a.m. showings of Quantum, I have a constant reminder that Sliders does(did), in fact, suck.

I love the Sci-Fi mini-marathons, too. (The DVR is currently taping the 8-4 Knight Rider marathon. And I have watched both "Incredible Hulk" marathons (my favorite episode is the one where he goes to that town because he has heard about an experimental treatment for rage disorders, but then misses his appointment because he gets caught up saving that lady's life. C'mon, you know the one...he turns into the Hulk twice and then ends up hitchhiking at the end?!!!??))

Anyway, last night's (this morning's?) episode of the Twilight Zone was called "Silence."

A curmudgeony old guy bets this young whipper snapper $500,000 that he can't keep his yap shut for one year. The rules call for the young guy to live in a fully-microphoned room with see through windows, where he can have all the luxuries he'd want for his amusement on the one condition he not utter a single word.

The old man explains that the reason for the wager is that, basically, the sound of the young guy's voice grates his last nerve and it would be worth the money to be rid of it.

The young man asks to see the money up front, but the old man (and all the people who have now gathered to hear the wager) says no, the young guy has to take him at his word. Shut the hell up and he'll get the money.

So, he accepts the old man's terms and the next day he reports to the glass room to begin his year-long vow of silence.

Well, this is the Twilight Zone, so of course, something really effed up happens, but nevertheless, I was intrigued.

All the comforts I could want, and a half million dollar pay day at the end? Oh, I'd take that challenge in a second...although I'd probably want a million or two (since that episode was set in 1961-62, 2005 rates must be higher).

I'd settle in with my cable, party poker, a nice bathtub, ipod, overstock.com and Rick and GuruGirl's guest bed. And of course, my blog.

And then I'd go to Spain for two weeks with my winnings!

Anyone else?

Sunday, March 13, 2005


Your Brain is 46.67% Female, 53.33% Male

Your brain is a healthy mix of male and female

You are both sensitive and savvy

Rational and reasonable, you tend to keep level headed

But you also tend to wear your heart on your sleeve

What Gender Is Your Brain?

via Chris


Lindsay has a dead-on list of blog cliches.

We at Clareified hereby plead guilty to the following offenses...and that's just this month alone:

* Linking to the people you hung out with last night.

* "Cryptic" blogging to seem cool. ("I can't really say anything about this right now, but big important things are happening to someone we all know.")

* Taking someone off your blogroll because they piss you off.

* Confronting someone at a party because they don't link to you.

* Introducing people at a party by their blog name. (In my particular case, mispronouncing people's blog names while introducing them at a party.)

* Blogging about your bad mood/bad day/general ennui.

* Being "recognized."

* Blogging about being "recognized."

* Mentioning the amount of traffic you get.

* Blogging about how work sucks.

* Blogging about the blogging award you got/were nominated for.

* Having, going to, or blogging about any sort of "blogger get-together", "blogger party" or "blogger bash."

* Having a "guest blogger."

* Having a wishlist or asking for donations.

* Accusing someone of stealing an idea from your blog even if it's the most commonplace, obvious joke about a situation that can be made.

* Blogging in the first-person plural.

* Posting song lyrics.

* Plugging your friend's stuff.

* Plugging your friend's stuff that sucks, and not specifically saying it's good. "You should all buy my friend's band Mouthfeel's new record."

* Blogging about search terms that brought people to your site.

* Posting IM conversations.

* Making fun of how the New York Times is always behind on every trend.

* Blogging about how much traffic you've gotten since you received a link from a much bigger blog.

* Blogging about how much traffic you've gotten since you received a link from a much bigger blog, and saying "Welcome (much bigger blog) readers!"

* Inventing nicknames for all your friends on your blog. ("Last night, GirlySue, Desperatina, and the rest of the Tribe went out for decadent deserts to commisserate about how there are no good men out there.")

* Starting a post with, "Everyone in the blogosphere has been buzzing about..."

* Saying "blogosphere." Ever. Even ironically.

* Posting pictures that you've taken of your TV.

* Talking about how much you love Tivo/DVR.

* Putting your iPOD on random and posting the songs it plays.

* Posting anything about your iPOD.

* Referring to any blogger as "famous."

* Blog "feuds." (We hereby announce that Executiveslacks.blogspot.com is our mortal enemy)

* Having an anonymous blog.

* Apologizing for not blogging for a while.

* Blogging about the epiphany you had last night about yourself and your life.

* Posting your results from online personality tests.

* Blogging about George W.Bush.

* Blogging about weight gain / weight loss / gym membership / ice-cream binges.

* Posting solely to wish a friend happy birthday.

* Blogging about blogging.

Read the whole list. Or just keep reading Clareified, I'm sure I'll hit them all before my hiatus.

via "no, you blog about it" Karol


It's tentatively named "Peter Jackson I am going to kill you."

PJIAGTKY is looking for someone to play drums, bass and guitar.

Friday, March 11, 2005


In this case, none.
California judge explains that the journalists privilege is limited and no one has the right to publish stolen trade secrets.

The case has been widely watched in the fast-growing world of Web logs -- or blogs, Web sites that contain articles or diary entries and that recently have propelled stories into the mainstream.

Kleinberg, however, ruled that no one has the right to publish trade secrets that only could have been provided by someone breaking the law.

``The journalist's privilege is not absolute,'' Kleinberg wrote. ``For example, journalists cannot refuse to disclose information when it relates to a crime.''

On and unrelated note, when, for the love of, will the New York Times stop saying "Web logs or blogs"?

My Famous Red Hat


There are two moments in every woman's life that she wants to remember for all eternity. The first, of course, is the first time she is called a whore in a bar and the second is when she gets stuck in a car door with her left side in, her right side out.
The very definition of convenience is having both happen on the same night, so that the whole memorializing process is a seamless recounting of one night out.
As I sat on Karol's couch at the night's end, listening to "Everybody's A Little Bit Racist" and trying to line my coat pockets with Peter's CDs, I wondered how I had come to such an end. Getting scratched by Karol, spending an hour and a half *not* ordering food from the ribs place, convincing MR that it didn't matter if Peter wore his seatbelt because in an accident the drunk guy never dies, and entering the seedy underworld to get the "good stuff" from Doug only to be reminded that "some day, and that day may never come, he would call upon me to do a favor for him."
Yes, Godfather.
Like most of the big decisions in my life, this one was prompted by the incessant needling of "don't be stupid. You have to come. Bloggers will be there and they'll link to you." Followed by the equally persuasive "Dawn is pretty not fly for a black girl."
Huh, good points both.
So, I donned my very smart red hat and headed East.
Having memorized the address, but not the bar name, I slowly walked uphill on a mostly deserted E. 44th street scanning the closed storefronts for something, anything that looked like a bar.
Nope - sushi.
Dingy unmarked door? Probably not, but this is New York, so worse comes to worse, we'll come back and knock.
Glowing red lights! Nothing says bar, like glowing red lights.
Sure enough, as soon as I crossed over toward the flashing neon, I heard the unmistakeable laughter of the newly brown-haired Karol sitting with MR, the only other Mets fan in NYC, besides me.
I watched them finish their cigarettes while I peered inside to scope out the scene. I saw someone wave from inside.
"Who's that?"
"No way. Really? Wow, she looks great....I mean, not that she didn't always look great... cause, she totally...oh my god...would you look at that thing over there!"
I spied Ken, and Doug and ...whoa! Asphnxma's here? I definitely thought he'd had quite enough of the blogger scene after Candace scared him and made him cry.
MR expertly flicked his smoldering cigarette butt into the street. Karol attempted to follow suit. I laughed and laughed as it simply rolled to the floor.
The first person I saw inside the bar was the elusive Scott from Slantpoint. We chatted for a bit before Yaron joined us.
"Yaron? Why would the U.N. let people inside to pee? Aren't there security concerns?" I asked referring to a comment he left on Karol's blog.
"Oh! Well, I didn't mean you'd go inside," he explained demonstrating with a swift hand motion, that famous Calvin and Hobbes urinary arc.
"Ah. I see." I said taking a step back (you know, just in case.)
Asphnxma came over to say hi.
"You know, I'm sorry I completely ignored your e-mail the other day. But I'm told you have exactly the same tendencies, so I don't feel so badly about it."
Damn you, Kaz. I thought that was our little secret.
"That's ok. My fault. I should have known that to get a reply from you I would have to include the magical words "beautiful hot chicks." That or "poker and hookers."
I watched Lisa trying to fill a glass with the carbonated water hose from behind the bar, she pressed several buttons before Jessica came to her aid and a fizzy stream filled the glass.
"Hey, I want to give them a really hard drink to make! Any ideas?"
None were apparent, asphnxma was drinking beer. Really, really, really, really expensive beer. Ivan was drinking rum and cokes. Yaron suggested a "flaming zombie" or a "deadly monkey" (bar was a wee loud.)
I ended up ordering some combination of the two.
Jessica was not amused.
I made my way to the other end of the bar.
"Dawn, take off your coat. You're making me...now, I don't want to say hot and give you the wrong idea...so...making me feel like the temperature is high," Karol whined as she tugged at my scarf.
Then she started to unbutton my coat.
"Come on. Leave your coat with Peter."
It was then I realized the guy hunched over the bar sitting on the pile of coats was indeed the Phone Hanging Up Bandit. Standing to his far left, I tapped his right shoulder. He slowly turned his head right and looked at Mike D., who started laughing.
Peter turned to look at me on his left.
"Ha! Phone Hanging Up Bandit. That'll learn you to hang the phone up on me."
He went back to his drink.
"So, Dawn have you heard about the new tuition policy at Yale?" Mike asked.
"Yes," I said glumly. (The school now gives free tuition to students whose families earn less than $30,000 a year. i.e. me and evidently Mike)
Then, as if reading my mind, he said: "I'm not happy for them. I'm bitter."
"I KNOW! Why didn't they do this ten freaking years ago? Bastards. They should have to take out loans and work crappy campus jobs, too."
He seemed to like my idea about the University sending rebate checks to all alumni who came from families making less than $30,000 a year.
That reminds me, I have a letter to write.
Anyways, having remained in coat, hat and scarf (pretty much to spite Karol at this point), while chatting in a hot, crowded bar for an hour, I was parched.
"Karol, can you get me a water," I yelled since I saw her at the bar. She placed the order with Lisa.
24 minutes later, she then placed the order with Jessica.
I drank more than half the glass in one gulp -- I didn't even notice there was a straw in it, until I saw it fly across the bar and hit one of Jessica's bandmates in the face.
I looked around to see if anyone noticed.
They did.
"Dawn." Dorian said sternly.
"What? I didn't do anything and you're a liar if you say I did."
"Oh, I saw what you did with that straw. But more importantly, why are you flirting with every guy in this bar except me."
"Uhmm...ok, yeah, that was me with the straw thing."
"Don't try to change the subject. I thought we had something special and you are trying to deny our connection. So, basically, you're a whore."
"I left you a message on Karol's post saying that although I was not black, rich or Irish, I wasn't too proud to beg."
I knew this was Karol's fault somehow.
Within minutes, a full fledged discussion ensued about (and I think I have the order correct here) 1. the impossibility of finding a rich, black, Irish, Catholic, 2. how an unemployed, white, Russian Orthodox was pretty much the same thing and 3. How the non-black, kinda Catholic, gay Dorian could keep me in the lifestyle to which I have been accustomed. (Really, a 50 inch plasma, HDTV is all I need.)
Lord knows, I was eyeing the Zelda, Judith, Ken Wheaton conversation across the room jealously. Now, that I know what they were talking about...well...let's just say "bring on the conversation about how blacks and Russians are the same because they are both shady and flashy (insert wave of the breasts.)"
Jessica seemed a bit concerned that the regular bartenders planned to stiff her and Lisa on the tips because they were being surly and nasty. (Which makes those really, really, really, really expensive beers, all that more hilarious) I posited it was because the regular bartender wasn't as pretty as them. However, Mike took one look at the regular bartender and said "no, she's plenty pretty. Actually, really pretty."
Well, so much for that plan. I didn't even merit a link on Jessica's post today, despite my efforts.
I went outside with the cool kids for another cigarette.
It was my first chance to actually talk to Ace of Spades.
Contrary to popular opinion, Mr. McCutcheon looks nothing at all like the letter A or a shovel. And it turns out he's even a member of the bar. Or will be after he takes the bar again since he let three years lapse since he passed it and now his scores have expired.
As per usual the party adjourned to Chez Karol.
I may or may not have literally bumped Ari out of a ride in MR car's on the way home. But any "over-aggressive musical chairs" play on my part with respect to said vehicle, was more than punished when I got my leg got stuck in the crevice of the front seat, as I tried to climb into the back.
Doing my best Winnie the Pooh stuck in the rabbit's hole impression, I squirmed and squirmed until I realized that I would just have to live in MR's car and until I starved long enough to lose a few inches in my butt.
Thankfully, I managed to suck in just enough to make it all the way inside.
Jeez, and I thought nothing would ever supplant the day I ripped my pants and no one told me until like half way through the school day, as my most embarrassing moment ever.
Indeed, it had been a long, curious day.
So many deep philosophical questions to ponder: Is it right to slow dance with Lisa to 'Crazy In Love,' when she clearly has unresolved feeelings for both petitedov and Ari? Can two men live inside the same emergency glass case without a little something something happening? Can a Catholic woman and a gay man make a go of it? Are there victimless crimes? Will this post ever end?
Finally! Yes, for an answer.


It's been something like five years since I studied for the New York bar and (dear God) eight years since I took first year Criminal Law. However, I vaguely remember that the definition of rape (either at Common Law or in New York) was by means of force and intimidation, the willfull insert of an object into any orifice of another person against that person's will and consent.

Which leads me to last night's Apprentice. During the live auction on FUSE TV, was Erin raped?

Thursday, March 10, 2005


Then his remarks took a different turn. "I want to earn your support because I do believe, Democrats, I do believe this is the year we take back City Hall," he said, to scattered cheers from the racially mixed audience. "This is the year we send the message coast to coast: It starts here in New York City. Then we go to Albany, and then we take back the White House for Democrats, but most importantly for Democratic values."

Who do I make out the check to?

It's like being a battered wife

Oh, the tribulations of being a liberal Democrat.
First my party jumped feet first and arms flailing into the Patriot Act.
It hurt.
But very quickly they apologized.
"We're so sorry, Dawn. We were angry and scared. You know, we would never intentionally hurt you. Please, forgive us."
Ok, I said.
I covered the black eye with makeup and explained that I was just clumsy and fell down the stairs, if anyone asked about the swollen lip and cracked ribs.
Then came the parroting of the old canard that marriage should just be between a man and a woman. But this time, they weren't sorry. Instead, they sneered and dared me to leave. "Where are you going to go, huh? You think anyone else even wants you?" They gulped down the last of the whiskey and laughed spitefully.
It was true. I had to make this relationship work. Think about the early days when we were dating and Jimmy Carter believed we could change the world through good example.
Anyway, it's probably just stress, I told myself. After the election, everything will be better.
But I was wrong.
Days after the results came in, they were back pedaling on abortion rights and first amendment freedoms.
"It's your fault we lost, you stupid cow!" They said slamming the door on their way out, leaving me in a heap in the hallway asking them to come back.
"Come back! We can work this out. Please!" I cried, begging them not to leave me.
But it was too late. In just the last few months they've confirmed Alberto Gonzales and approved the practice of withdrawing funds from universities that protest the military exclusion of openly gay candidates.
Now, they are cheating on me publically.
Getting in bed with the likes of Rick Santorum, no less.
We live in silence now.
I know where they've been, not that they even care enough to lie to me anymore.
Eventually, I'll pack my things in the middle of the night, maybe when they're out at church burning violent videogames and throwing rocks at gay people, and move back to my mother's house.

Wednesday, March 09, 2005


HELP! As per usual, ABC ran Alias one minute beyond its scheduled time and I missed the end. The last thing I saw was Sloane putting in the thingie disk, dialing the phone and Jack picking up.

In return for information about the ending, I hereby provide you with a travel cost analysis for tonight's episode.

Roundtrip L.A. to Paris on one day's notice:


Roundtrip L.A. to Brussels on one day's notice:


I didn't really pay attention to where Vaughn's uncle was convalescing.


Teen loses suit against school for giving homework during the summer.

Good gravy.


"It is better to have loved and to have lost than never to have loved at all," the Sun quoted Gonsoulin as saying.

Ummm...when one is talking about losing all of one's fingers and most of one's toes, then I would have to vote for "never to have loved at all."


Or something like that. My month long quest of uploading all my CDs is now over. Turns out I have tons of CDs that I haven't heard in a decade or so. Then there are the CDs which I inexplicably have three copies of (Waiting to Exhale Soundtrack? WHY? ) Then there are the CDs that I can't figure out why I own at all: Tanya Tucker's Greatest Hits and L'il Bow Wow are highly ranked in this category, So here are my key Ipod stats:

1st song uploaded: Birdhouse In Your Soul, TMBG
Last song uploaded: All About the Benjamins: Puff Daddy

1st Song Downloaded: Runaway Train, Soul Asylum
Last Song Downloaded: Jessie's Girl, Rick Springfield

Top Ten Most Played:

1. Unsent, Alanis Morissette
2. What Would You Do?, City High
3. All Cried Out, Lisa Lisa & Cult Jam
4. Confessions 1 & 2, Usher
5. A Thousand Miles, Vanessa Carlton
6. Lucky, Britney Spears
7. Somebody, Bonnie McKee
8. Father and Son, Cat Stevens
9. A Long December, Counting Crows
10. Ignition (Remix), R. Kelly
11. Piano In the Dark, Brenda Russell
12. Girls Just Wanna Have Fun, Cyndi Lauper
13. Delicate, Damien Rice
14. Again, Janet Jackson
15. When Angels Cry, Janis Ian
16. Birdhouse In Your Soul, TMBG
17. In Da Club, 50 Cent
18. Grandma's hands, Bill Withers
19. Measure of a Man, Clay Aiken
20. Time After Time, Cyndi Lauper
21. Unwell, Matchbox 20
22. I Wish, R. Kelly
23. Miss U, Aaliyah
24. I Believe, Blessid Union of Souls
25. Black Boys on Mopeds, Sinead O'Connor

I don't really see an overall pattern...except that twelve of them I got from TV shows or movies.

Songs in My Top Rated Playlist: 471

Artist with the most songs in my top rated playlist: Billy Joel

Whole Albums uploaded:

1. The Temptations Ultimate Collection
2. Michael Jackson, Thriler
3.Tracy Chapman, Tracy Chapman
4. Eminem, Marshall Mathers LP
5. Billy Joel, Greatest Hits 1 & 2
6. Alanix Morissette, Jagged Little Pill
7. Alanis Morissette, Under Rug Swept
8. Arrested Development, 3 years, 5 months
9. Cat Stevens, Footsteps In The Dark
10. Jewel, Pieces of You
11. Beatles, Revolver
12. Matchbox 20, Yourself or Someone Like You
13. Clay Aiken, Measure of A Man
14. Heather Hedley, This Is Who I Am

Most Random Artist Represented: Saddam Hussein (thank you, Trey and Matt)

Favorite Playlist: Hookers and Strippers

1. Private Dancer, Tina Turner
2. Perfect Gentleman, Wyclef Jean
3. Lady Marmalade, Pink, Mya, L'il Kim
4. What Would You Do, City High
5. Heaven Only Knows, Eve
6. Reba McEntire, Fancy
7. Donna Summers, Bad Girls
8. Lovely Ladies, Les Miserables
9. Little Lisa Wants to Be A Star, Lisa Lisa & Cult Jam

Intentional Exclusion: Poddy is a No Backstreet Boys zone.

Still Must Haves:

Johnny Cash

So, what's your ipod say about you?

via Alceste


30 and loving it.

On a related note, I like birthdays. Most notably, my birthday*, but really all birthdays make me smile.
It's like your own special day...unless you are a twin or a triplet in which case, it's like your own special few minutes. So it always makes me sad when I miss a friend's birthday, most recently, Princess Richard's, although we enjoyed a toast over a glass of Francis Ford Copolla's finest white wine, as I pondered how to steal the glass.
However, as wonderful as I am, and as much as I love birthdays, I can't keep track of all of them.
So, this is my public announcement, if you've got a birthday coming up, e-mail me. Or if I have managed to forget your birthday, despite being told once a year, two days after I've missed it, try to come up with a handy little way for me to remember. Pi, for instance taught me a very handy 3 is the square root of 9 to make sure I'd never forget.
Karol, on the other hand, went with violence and blackmail.
Or find some way to tie it to my birthday -- like Sabaka's whose is exactly three months after mine.
See? Fun!
So, remember, it's your special day. Let a person know. We'll celebrate...or at least you'll get a post of your very own.

Unless, you're Dorian, then you get your very own paragraph wishing you Happy Birthday because you're sharing a birthday with someone who's turning thirty and therefore gets the main headline because welll...it's 30.
So...Happy Birthday Dorian. (And for the record I don't see Dawn Eden wishing you Happy Birthday on her blog.)
And how do I know it's Dorian's birthday, you ask? Well, his away message on his AOL IM says "Don't panic, you still have time to buy me a birthday gift." Complete with a link to his Amazon wish list.
So cute.
Anyway, Happy Haps to all.

*Less than four months until Dawn Summers' sixth annual birthday season.

Tuesday, March 08, 2005


Me: Hey, this is the last day of your 20s.
Friend with 4hours, 57 minutes left in her 20s: Fuck You

For a show that prides itself on being set in "real-time" these characters seem to have an inability to remember anything that happens episode to episode. Which would be fine, if we weren't talking about an inability to remember something that happened ten minutes ago. I predict that in the first ten minutes if next week's episode someone utters the words "Driscoll's daughter committed suicide, so she had to step down and then Tony was appointed head, but then District sent over Michelle, who is his ex-wife, and now he isn't in charge anymore."
Come on. the only people watching, know what's happening, so let's move it along.
Is it wrong to feel like if Driscoll had stepped down two hours earlier her daughter would still be alive? I mean, she is obviously replaceable -- my an ex-con no less, so what was all the fuss when her kid wanted to go home at 4 or 5?
Also, I am not happy to see Michelle.

Monday, March 07, 2005

So Michael Bolton didn't get the U.N. Post...

But Bono could be tapped to head the World Bank.


No, not Michael, but this guy definitely has hair issues.


via Petite Dov


10. Kendra the Reggae Vampire Slayer
9. Tara the one expressioned witch
8. Uncle Enyos who if ever someone needed a disembowling.
7. Dawn I can scream through the Fall, Winter, Spring and Summers
6. The Initiative whose eventual cementing and burning was an improvement
5. The talking demon hunting puppet. Seriously.
4. Whistler. Thankfully, seen but once.
3. Stupid Vampire disguised as a child.
2. Hank Summers who makes Joe Jackson look like father of the year.
1. Caleb. Dude.


"A woman cannot vote in Kuwait. She cannot drive in Saudi Arabia. She is barred from working on military submarines in Britain. In Pakistan, if a woman is raped she must have four Muslim adult male witnesses to secure justice, failing which she may herself be considered guilty of fornication."--actress Meryl Streep, quoted in London's Guardian, March 4

No, really, I am asking. Please leave your thoughts in the comment section. I say it's the fornication example.

Others disagree.


Alanis plans to re-record 'Jagged Little Pill' to celebrate 10-year anniversary.

I love that album.

In college it played non-stop in my dorm room and in my office at the school newspaper (that's right weekly poseurs, I said "The school newspaper"). I had dance routines for practically every track and knew all the actual (I think) words of every song. I played it so often that one day the other people in the office lured me away from the CD player, with the ruse of candy or free money, took the CD out and hid it from me.

When I returned, disturbed by the silence emanating from my computer, I hit "repeat" to start the disc up again.


I hit eject to find the CD gone. For the next hour I turned the whole building upside down, in tears over the missing CD. I vowed bloody vengeance on whoever stole it and may have even accused one or two innocent bystanders. Ultimately, I went down the street and bought another one from the record store. Months, maybe even a year later, the other editors fessed up about their "prank" and gave me back the CD.

At last count, I have at least five copies of Jagged Little Pill, so when Alanis says she plans to "do it all again," I get very nervous.

After all, I have probably single handedly contributed to the fact that "In the decade since its release, "Jagged Little Pill" has sold 30 million copies across the globe, including more than 14 million in the United States" but now I am trying to buy a house and can't continue to spend that kind of money.

Sunday, March 06, 2005


The Governor of California lashes out against steroid use in bodybuilding competitions.

In unrelated news, Michael Jackson demands end to plastic surgery in the entertainment industry and Geraldo strikes a blow to sensationalism in journalism.

Friday, March 04, 2005


Italian Hostage Freed in Iraq Is Shot by G.I.'s at Checkpoint

U.S. soldiers wounded a freed Italian reporter and killed an Italian intelligence officer escorting her.

You know, I wasn't really following the story that closely, but what was Eason Jordan's claim?

Thursday, March 03, 2005


Oh where, oh where do I begin?
Not since Omarosa stood up for the civil rights of pots and kettles everywhere, have we had a more memorable psychotic meltdown.
I mean, Verna Schmerna. Sorry, but taking a nap and a stroll does not a breakdown make. (Sure alien antennae Danny might have been a contender, but he wasn't around long enough to prove it.)
Enter Audrey stage right.
Last week, when Craig busted her on calling her husband an unambitious deadbeat, I thought wow, this girl is whacked. But...well, let's hear from Audrey in her own words:
"Do you realize why I am where I am today?"
No. Audrey, please. Tell us how you came to be where you are today.
" Because BOTH my parents went to prison. My childhood was taken from me, I had nothing. I was living out of a car at 17."
Really? THAT's the craziest thing I ever heard --oh sorry, you're not done?
"As a child girls hated me because I was beautiful. I wanted to scar my face because I was so beautiful. I wanted to be ugly, so that they wouldn't hate me."
Like, omigosh, meeee tooooo. Except when I was a kid, they made commercials just for girls like us.
Now, I thought Audrey had hit rock bottom with the "van down by the river" routine, but oh her complete implosion had only just begun.
From assigning the smoldering-Vince-Vaughn-look-alike-John to a task that she made up with Tanna's help (Promotion! Read: clean the toilets in the suite) to refusing to talk to him directly and demanding an accounting of his time, she was probably the most disasterous Project Manager since...crazy "my boyfriend is a director" Kristen.
But Audrey managed to go that one step further and simulaneously profess that all her teammates were phenomenal leaders and declare that they should all be fired.
She even employed Tara's pathetic "well, I'm not responsible for everything just because I'm project manager" excuse from tasks gone by.
Now, add in Trump ogling that black haired chick who, evidently channeling Paris Hilton, said "guys with helicopters are hot," as she showed him "her swing," this episode comes closest to recreating the magic of the Omarasa/Amy days of Season One.
Next Week: Corporate Re-shuffling!
Smoldering-Vince-Vaughn-look-alike-John meet Stepganie: Meee-ooowww.

Wednesday, March 02, 2005


I don't wanna be the only one playing them in Friday's mega drawing:

4 8 15 16 23 42


Still have not touched nary a card in the deck. This is turning out to be my most successful Lenten forbearance, even though I did not plan to give up cards.


Tuesday, March 01, 2005


There's a "couch-potato spinster woman," now? This might require never watching 'Gilmore Girls' again.

"Cause the good old days weren't always good, and tomorrow ain't as bad as it seems."

It's been 16 years since "We didn't Start the Fire." I think Billy should add new lyrics and re-release the song in 2009.


Since that clever, clever Rick Blaine managed to preemptively post the highlights of my visit to Casa de Blaine and do a pretty good job of imitating my inimitable style, I will share a few of the pictures that chronicle the trip. (On a side note, the most neoest of the neo-cons will be impressed to note that Rick's preemptive posting totally spared him the public unveiling of details about how a garden weed sent him screaming in hysterics for his wife, GuruGirl, to come save him or how he came to be known as "Princess Richard." I forget if the two tales are related.

Here's my fancy station wagon:

Here's Princess Richard's really, really fancy chariot with the cool doors:

And now for the daily quiz portion of the blog: Oranges or Lemons?


The Supreme Court ruled Tuesday that the Constitution forbids the execution of killers who were under 18 when they committed their crimes, ending a practice used in 19 states.

I'm pleasantly stunned.

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