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New Rule: The women of the Food Network have to stop faking orgasms when they taste their food. Half of that programming consists of cute, spunky women putting things in their mouth and giving us their "O" face. Which is why I can recite 23 different pasta recipes from memory, and I don't even cook. Rachael Ray makes a 30-minute meal, and I'm finished in 15. New Rule: No more pictures of dead people in their coffins. It's a funeral, not a Kodak moment. I don't want to remember Boris Yeltsin on his back, eyes closed and lifeless. I want to remember Boris Yeltsin as he lived: on his back, eyes closed, and lifeless. Oh, he's dead. He won't hurt. New Rule: When scientists find a new planet that's just like Earth, they have to give it a better name than Gliese 581. It sounds like an alias in a chat room. Are we supposed to explore it or think it's a horny teenager - go to its galaxy looking for sex and end up on "Dateline." New Rule: Someone has to make a mustard container that doesn't squirt out yellow water before it gets to the actual mustard. Someone had to say it. I get all excited for lunch, and then Grey Poupon pees on my sandwich. I suppose I could shake the bottle first, but, f*ck you, I'm an American consumer! Not only should your mustard be pre-blended to my specifications, it should also whiten my teeth. New Rule: For the sake of human existence, K-Fed must not be allowed to mate with Paris Hilton. Or as I like to call her, "K-Y." You know, when the Pope saw this picture, he changed his opinion on abortion from "it's murder" to "okay, but just this once." And, finally, New Rule: Guns don't kill people; crazy people kill people. Last week, in response to the Virginia Tech shootings, President Bush said, "When people see somebody who is exhibiting abnormal behavior, you do something about it." Thanks for the heads-up, McGruff. But, if that's the case, then I want to warn the country about a man I saw last night on TV. He's six feet tall, Caucasian and he goes by the title "President of the United States." [photo of Bush making face shown] I'm not kidding. George Bush is the crazy person we need to keep an eye on. He needs to stop taking money from the pharmaceutical lobby and start accepting samples. Only a delusional person could watch Alberto Gonzales before Congress last week do everything but say, "No hablo Ingles"- and rip up a picture of the Pope, and conclude that it "increased his confidence in the man." That's called disassociation from reality. There's an old, frequently-used definition of insanity, which is "performing the same action over and over, expecting different results." And then it says, "See: 'The Surge.'" Now, I'm no doctor, but I am on TV. And in my professional opinion, George Bush is a paranoid schizophrenic. He thinks the terrorists hate us for our freedom, and believes they're going to follow us home. That's why he keeps obsessively clearing brush, so Osama can't use it for cover. Other symptoms of paranoid schizophrenia are: Do you see things that aren't there? Such as a link between 9/11 and Iraq? Do you - do you feel things that you shouldn't be feeling, like a sense of accomplishment? Do you have trouble organizing words into a coherent sentence? Do you hear voices that aren't really there? Like, oh, I don't know, your imaginary friend, Jesus? Telling you to start a war in the Middle East. Well, guess what? There are a large number of people out there also suffering from the same delusions, because there are Republicans, there are conservatives, and then there are the Bushies. This is the 29 percent of Americans who still think he's doing "a heck of a job, Whitey." And I don't believe that it's coincidence that almost the same number of Americans - 25 percent - told a recent pollster that they believe that this year - this year, 2007 - would bring the Second Coming of Christ! I have a hunch these are the same people. Because, if you think that you're going to meet Jesus before they cancel "Ugly Betty," then you're used to doing things by faith. And if you have so much blind faith that you think this war is winnable, you're nuts and you shouldn't be allowed near a voting booth. There's only one job you can be trusted with, and that's picking out Phil Spector's next hairdo. |
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