Tickle My Kittens

I ran into an ex-girlfriend on the sidewalk the other day, along with her new guy. That’s never fun, but it was somehow made worse by the fact that her new guy is severely unattractive. About my height, 40 pounds overweight, balding. I was stunned. She is a very attractive woman – a head turner, if you will – and here she is with this oaf. Or ogre. Or troll, I don’t know, but he definitely lives under a bridge.

I was a little shaken from the whole experience. You see, this particular ex is one on a very short list of people who’ve summarily dumped me. I was completely in love with her, and then wham – one breakup phone call and I’ve got my head inside a whiskey bottle. It really is like having the breath knocked out of you. So my friend asked me, are you upset because you saw her with another guy, or because he’s so ugly.

Hmmm….

I think it’s because he’s so ugly. I’ve seen exes with their new guys plenty of times, but it’s never bothered me this much. There are just so many reactions: do I wonder why she is with that when she could be with me, or do I smugly pronounce “Ha! Serves her right. Stupid bitch.” Would I have felt better is she were with a man much more attractive than me? I mean, at least it would makes sense, even though it would sting the ego quite a bit. And what if she were with a guy that looked very similar to me? I really wouldn’t know what to think there. Flattered, I guess? Anyway, it really calls into question her taste, nay, every decision she’s ever made in her life. It makes me feel dirty that I was with a woman who clearly doesn’t care about the aesthetic characteristics of those she beds. Would she date Dick Cheney? And what does this say about me? I’m now somehow lumped into a group with pigboy just for dating her? Gross.

It’s just another example of a wide scale travesty endemic to Washington, DC: attractive people dating much, much less attractive people. Attractive girls dating ugly guys, attractive guys dating ugly girls, even attractive guys dating ugly guys [Ed. Note – I’ve yet to see a hot girl with an ugly girl. They’re usually both ugly]. Why do I see this so much? It’s almost like we need some kind of classifying body to issue us league levels. “Oh, you’re a 6? Well, I’m an 8. You’re a nice guy and all, but it would be illegal for me to date you.” No more of this “she’s a really nice person on the inside” crap. I want a system that’s reliable, predictable and objective. A system that brings equality to the dating world. Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go fuck a model while it’s still legal for me to do so.

Some of you may not know this, but two protests occurred on Saturday. One was an anti-war march and the other was an anti-anti-war march directly across the street. To catch up on the weekend’s action, head here.

One highlight from the anti-anti-war protest came from Buzz Patterson, who said, “Congress, quit playing games with our troops. Terrorists, we will find you and kill you. And to our troops, we’re here for you, and we support you.” Buzz and Cindy Sheehan, both protest veterans, made appearances along with thousands of not very famous and not very busy protesters at each respective rally.

I think there are many of us who a.) don’t like the war, and b.) don’t like seeing Americans, and most likely humans in general, get killed. However, what I don’t understand is why one would choose to protest the government on a Saturday. What day other than Friday gets less news attention? Saturday. If you were like me, you were probably watching football, or perhaps you were eating a delicious bagel from Bagels and Baguettes and enjoying the perfect weather outside. Basically, chances are you were doing anything you could to NOT do work related activities on Saturday.

This is exactly why protests on Saturdays are ridiculous and a waste of time. I don’t disagree with those who want to try to make a difference, even if they’re idiots and/or wrong. But people who have been around a protest or two, like both Buzz and Cindy, probably should have realized that Congress isn’t in session on a Saturday. Instead, the protesters probably were seeing families in fanny packs, stonewashed jeans, and plastic visors. Kids are crying, parents are sick of their kids crying, and no one wants to go to the Smithsonian museums for the third day in a row. That’s the kind of environment people see in DC on a Saturday. Where are the Congress(wo)men? Not at the Capitol.

Yet, thousands of people came into DC to protest the war (or to protest the anti-war), even when no one of note was around. In fact, our elected officials probably weren’t even walking BY the Capitol, let alone being on the steps of it or at their offices around the corner. The protests, then, were reduced to a social call, where people hung around other like-minded people. I find it unlikely that any opinions were changed by the protests.

By Monday, when people were actually reading papers on the Metro or listening to NPR, the story wasn’t news anymore. I certainly don’t remember seeing anything in the Post about it. Even if there were coverage of it, the news world moved on by Monday, and the story was pushed back to a column near an ad for Camelot. I hear the lunch buffet is delicious, though.

Protesting on a Saturday is stupid. Protest on a Tuesday, during rush hour, if you want to make some headlines that people will read. Look, the permit for the protest was for 10,000 people anyway, and if 100,000+ people showed up (as some people mentioned on Sunday), then it probably doesn’t matter whether or not you have a permit. If you’re committed to getting arrested, as 190 did on Saturday, then don’t be scared about securing a permit. Just maximize the message so it screws up the rest of the District, if you want to try and actually make a difference. Cindy Sheehan said that now is the time to be assertive, and if you agree with her statement, protesting on a Saturday is probably the exact opposite of what you should be doing.

A lot of people will think you’re an asshole for interrupting a work day, but at least people won’t think you’re an idiot for protesting in front of a bunch of empty, silent buildings.

Ever since the cancellation of Arrested Development, I’ve argued that the best show on American TV is The Office. I do remember a brief period after the American version came out when I thought that it just didn’t live up to its British older brother, but the new show was so funny that I quickly stopped making comparisons.

Well, my friends at Netflix recently hooked me up with the British version of The Office on DVD, and it’s blowing my mind again. I was also able to locate a few scenes where the scripts were similar enough to make a solid comparison between the two versions.

First, let’s start with the American version. A consultant comes into the office to address diversity in the workplace, and the boss competes for attention and control of the meeting. Hit play on the following clip and then drag the slider to the beginning of the scene at 3:30 (it counts backwards).

Terrifically funny stuff, but it pales in comparison with its British counterpart.

[UPDATE] I just heard that Ricky Gervais (boss in British Office) won the best comedy actor Emmy last night for his performance in Extras. Apparently I’m so hip that even when I dredge up a four-year-old subject it’s topical.

Part of my job is dealing with publicists. As a general rule, publicists tend to say and ask a lot of stupid shit, so I generally know what to expect. But earlier this week I had a surprisingly stupid conversation with a publicist. She was angry that we had written about her client (who’s publishing a book next month) in my work blog, and were planning to do so again. (Yes, I am actually a professional blogger as well. I bet you didn’t know you were in such distinguished company.) She was unhappy with the prospect of us writing about her client before the book’s release, and told me that “All this Internet stuff — these daily blogs and things — are really screwing things up!” Oh, really, publicist lady? Those daily mentions of your client, which can be linked to and read and discussed over and over, are screwing things up? Interesting. I was under the impression that, as a publicist, your job was to get publicity for your client. Apparently not. This got me thinking about all the other newfangled inventions of late that really are just screwing everything up. A few I feel most strongly about:

Cars. You know who I bet feel really neglected these days? Horses. We should start riding those around again. Leather chaps can and should make a serious comeback, and there’d be fewer emissions to deal with. (Insert joke about horse poo here.) Also, 495 would be way less backed up if we brought back the equestrian mode of transportation.

Cell phones. So what, now I’m expected to call people when I’m running late, and I don’t have to wait until I get home to find out if DA is drunk, again, off Sprite and gin? You mean I can just call him and find out, so I know to just head straight up to my room instead of getting sucked into watching The Hills with him? That doesn’t seem right. If he’s been drinking gin again he probably just wants to have a meaningful conversation about the state of affairs in Israel or Harry Potter, and I shouldn’t deny him that.

Microwaves. Now, I do not currently own a microwave because BAL threw his out before we moved in (DA and I moved into BAL’s old house. Several of our favorite commenters also used to live there. It’s all very Circle of Life.) But I can tell you that my life is exponentially better for it. Cooking in four minutes or less? What a pain in the ass.

Seatbelts. Much like Tracy Jordan, all I want to do is go crash my car and see if the airbags go off. And if those airbags do go off, I’d like to gently rest my face on the pillow-top-like softness of the airbag. Seatbelts be damned.

Band-aids. Wait, you want to cover up your gaping wound so it’ll heal faster? You pansy.

As every red-blooded American is fully aware, this weekend marked the beginning of the professional football season. I’m something of a football fan, so I was pretty much glued to my television for the last couple of days—despite the fact that I care about Australian Rules Football almost as much as I care about any of the teams that have been shown on DC’s local television stations over the last two days. Still, there’s just something delightfully invigorating about the start of the football season. It marks the beginning of many Sundays watching hours of football at home, or more likely, at the bar; it marks the beginning of many Mondays spent sitting and cursing my fantasy football team and questioning why God hates the New York Giants so very, very much; and it marks the glorious period where summer gently gives way into fall—my most favorite-est season here in Washington.

Yes, I’m very excited about the beginning of football season and all that it entails.

There is, however, something that I’m worried is going to mar this coming football season for me—and that something is Peyton Manning.

I have nothing against Peyton Manning as a football player or the Colts as a football team. I don’t even have any truck with those people (like some of my co-bloggers), who believe that Peyton Manning is the second incarnation of Christ (despite the fact that he generally can’t throw for shit under actual pressure). No, my issue with Payton Manning is with all his damned commercials.

I swear, Peyton Manning is in literally every damned commercial during each and every break in each and every football game. Evidently, this fall consumers can only purchase two types of products: iPods nanos and products being sold by Mr. Manning. As far as I can tell, right now Payton is currently pushing credit cards, sports drinks, cell phones, televisions, television stations, and satellite dishes. Not only is Manning selling just about every possible type of consumer product, but evidently the powers that be in the advertising industry have decided that we need to see every single one of his commercials during every single commercial break. It’s a little ridiculous.

Don’t get me wrong, I don’t begrudge professional athletes the right to sell out make even bigger piles of dirty money to endorse various products. I even used to enjoy those credit card commercials that Manning was in. But there’s a fine line between product endorsement and selling the hell out. To my mind, it’s one thing for Tiger Woods and Michael Jordan to make billions of dollars from a single company like Nike, and a whole different thing when athletes start schilling for every damned company under the sun. I mean, at least last year, Manning’s commercials were semi-humorous. This year, it just kind of creeps me out how many commercials he’s in. I mean seriously, Sears? It’s enough to make me wonder just why Peyton needs so much endorsement money. He’s already making scads of dirty money so where does it all go? Gambling debts? Anabolic steroids? Dozens of illegitimate children?

I dunno, maybe I’m being a little harsh on Mr. Manning. After all, every American celebrity has the god-given right to cash in on their fame. I just worry that we’re getting a little bit over-saturated with Manning commercials. If I have to see that creepy phone commercial where he’s running down a hallway towards that kid from the Shining one more time, I’m going to become a Patriots fan.

Seriously, if I were Mr. Manning’s agent, I would suggest that he stop selling out here in the U.S. and that he start doing like all other American celebrities by getting himself on some billboards over in Japan…that, and possibly get involved with the advertising masterminds over there at Eastern Motors.