jaysaint Getting it all down on paper…

Steakums’ new avatar is very pretty 🙂

FLINTSTONES ARE ‘WAY TOO GAY’
Group Seeks Ban on Cartoon, Cereal, Vitamins
The ongoing campaign against alleged gay icons in animated cartoons continued today as a newly formed conservative group demanded that television stations stop broadcasting “The Flintstones” at once.

Harland Devane, leader of the group Focus on the Flintstones, said at a press conference in Washington, D.C. today that his organization was issuing the demand because, “Quite simply, everything about ‘The Flintstones’ is way too gay.”

The conservative activist distributed a memo itemizing over fifty ways in which the self-styled “modern Stone Age family” series promotes homosexuality, but left little doubt that most of his concerns centered on the relationship between the two main characters, Fred Flintstone and Barney Rubble.

“Their relationship is more flagrantly homosexual than anything in Oliver Stone’s ‘Alexander,’” Mr. Devane said.

He pointed out that Fred and Barney are virtually inseparable, are never seen wearing pants, and live together in the suggestively named town of Bedrock.

Noting that the show’s theme song exhorts viewers to have “a gay old time,” he added that the two men wear hard hats and construction garb while at work, an oblique reference to the construction worker in the classic disco band “The Village People.”

“Do I believe they are gay icons?” Mr. Devane said. “I abba-dabba-do.”

He added that Focus on the Flintstones’ efforts will not stop at banning the cartoon series from TV, telling reporters that the group is also “taking a close look” at Flintstone-related consumer products such as Flintstone vitamins and cereal.

“We are very uncomfortable with Fruity Pebbles,” he said.

Elsewhere, President Bush announced a budget of $2.57 trillion, most of which will go to paying for last month’s inauguration.

http://www.borowitzreport.com/archive_rpt.asp?rec=1063&srch=

I’m streched out on my hotel bed. I need to remember to bring my own cable cord, as the hotels always give you these teeny, short cords that force me to make desks out of chairs. Now maybe I am not the most diligent worker among business travelers, but why would Marriott set up their room so that you can’t get your computer off the desk and you can’t see the tv if you’re sitting there.

So now I’m struggling to stay awake because Damon is coming after his show. I could nap, but then I’d be awake all freaking night and nodding out like a dope addict tomorrow. I could use dinner, but last time I didn’t wait for him. He didn’t complain, but I felt a little bit badly about it.

I was having one of those days today where I wonder if my coworkers will ever discover that I am a total imposter. I was wheeling and dealing about what programming was going to be served up to millions of members, and then later I was walking across the tarmac to our little plane that we fly back and forth in. And they even roll out a little carpet! (it’s blue). The truth is that it’s not all so important or impressive, but I still don’t feel like the kind of person who should be flitting around on this little private plane. But — we get cheese cubes and cookies and muffins and whatever else random thing on the flight. So I like that. I usually start thinking about the cheese as soon as we get to the airport. Tonight was string cheese. It’s usually cubed.

So now I’m trying to think of what restaurant will deliver out here so that Damon and I don’t have to leave once he gets here. But I really want spaghetti, and that’s going to be tough to find. The room service here is noooo good and I’ve already eaten everything good (not much) out of the mini bar.

It’s occurring to me how incoherent/boring this entry must be. I’ll stop now.

I’ve found a few interesting folks doing random searches on LJ. Today I found a startling teenager. I’m not sure if it’s a boy or a girl. The tone was very girl-ish. But also referenced sex with Tiffany and Amy. So either it’s a gay girl or a girly boy. But the weird thing was that just about every entry, and there were plenty, was either a detailed list of food consumed that day (addressed with a lot of enthusiasm) or a rant against addiction and/or pot smokers. Teenagers are just so bizarre. I guess I was too then.

In my recovery from this hellish week I’ve tried to cover all my entertainment bases. Stacked on my coffee table are:
— Run Lola Run
— 25th Hour
— To Kill a Mockingbird
— The Thorn Birds
— Angels in America
— the first seasons of both The Gilmore Girls and The A-Team
— The Miracle of Life
— Wide Sargasso Sea
I really can’t imagine any eventuality this doesn’t cover

Here’s one fun vignette from my week that Tsalino found funny, so I’ll share it here.
We flew back into NY on the AOL shuttle on Thursday night. It was a flight so rough that at some points I would look out my window and only see ground since we were banking so hard. No good. So I take the shuttle to Teterboro, the little bus to Columbus Circle and then the subway to Chelsea. I finally got to Deanna’s apartment to dogsit and after many attempts to figure out the doors and locks, beginning with the fact that there are no numbers on the apartment doors so I’ve got to try the key in random doors (just waiting for someone to point a gun in my face for trying to break in). Anyway, Deanna’s apartment is over this swank restaurant called Suenos. So I get inside and a 100-pound dog is leaping all over me and I’m carrying bags and a suitcase and I’m tired and queasy from the flight and my sweater itches. So I walk into Deanna’s bedroom, throw down all my stuff and peel off my itchy sweater. I spend the next 15 minutes throwing the ball for the dog, brushing my hair, setting the alarm clock, etc, etc. I’m pacing around the bedroom and then I stop and look out the window, only to see that the restaurant extends way farther back than the apartments, and is glass-walled. So I’m looking down at a distance of about 25 feet right into the dining room. And the diners along the window are all looking back up at me — the topless girl playing with a big dog. We all stared at each other for a long second, and then I just slipped into the bathroom and laughed and laughed. I can’t begin to guess who was more surprised. And how that must have affected their dinner, especially since I must have been visible sometimes but not others, depending on where I was in relation to the two windows.

This is exactly the kind of thing that I do.

I picked this movie up at the library on the strength of the title. It just sounds like a movie I would like. And it’s turning out that it’s okay, but not great. But am I the only person who didn’t know that this is the writer’s imagining of Edward Rochester and his first wife in Jamaica? These, for those who don’t read dusty old books, are characters from Jane Eyre. I’m watching and first I think “Oh, that’s funny. That guy’s name is Rochester and he’s in Jamaica. Just like Mr. Rochester.” And then we meet Antionette, who is called Bertha in the book. So that threw me off the trail. (A quick investigation reveals that in the book the character’s full name is Bertha Antionette, which I had forgotten). Then Antionette’s mother goes crazy. And I was back to thinking this couldn’t be coincidence — could it? But a few more plot points fell into place and I was sure. So it was sort of fun to watch that unfold. Jane Eyre is one of my all-time favorite books. But because of that I’m a ambivalent about someone fooling with the charcaters. I think the writer could make a reasonable argument that this character is the man who develops into Mr. Rochester, but it doesn’t really fit my conception of him.

Is there anything I could write now that would make me seem even dorkier? Is it possible?

I had a rough rough week. I’ve been given some pretty big new responsibilities at work and a much higher profile. Which is great, and hugely stressful. It also means that I’m back to shuttling back and forth between NY and DC, which I loathe. So I came back from DC and went straight into a round of dog sitting. Ella is a sweet sweet dog. But she’s like 100 pounds and she just drags me around. Plus she’s kind of smelly. Which isn’t her fault. I do love dogs, but I really like them better when they’re more manageable — smaller, calmer. I can’t imagine having one, they’re so freaking needy. I’d definitely need a yard. Or at least one small enough to use those pee pads. But they do have a lot of charm.

Deanna, Ella’s mom, does have the greatest of apartments. When I was in junior high I imagined the most perfect apartment in the world. It was going to be in Paris. But this apartment in Chelsea was closer in layout and appearance than any place I’ve ever seen. So that was kind of a thrill. I wish I had been in more of a mind to enjoy it.