A.A. asks, "Dear Miss Kitty,
I hope you are meeting the heat and humidity with a healthy dose of conditioned air.
Do you know we lub you and if so, do you know we lub you *this* much?
Thanks as always,
AA"
My air is as nicely conditioned as my hair, and I owe my hair to Lamas. Not Lorenzo. Though he had nice hair back in the day, too, but I doubt he used this stuff 'cuz I don't think it was around then. But side note: I recently got about seven inches chopped off of my hair and my stylist was floored by how healthy it was, all the way to the tips, with no dye or product or extensions or anything in it. Which I took to mean, I grow good hair. And condition it well.
Anyway. I digress.
I have to admit, I was a bit puzzled by your question, as I'm not necessarily up with all of the hip lingo the youngsters are using these days. I was working on a film not too long ago with a group of kids who all thought it was kitschy that I use the word "groovy." It's coming back, man, just you wait. So I had to look up what "lub" means. In large part to make sure you didn't just forget the "e" on the end, in which case, this is a much more personal question than we should probably be posting on the interweb. And according to the Urban Dictionary, "lub" is one of those totally non-committal words that wusses use when they don't have the balls to tell someone how they really feel. Or when they're too afraid to admit how they feel. It's described as being something between like and love, which in my day, we referred to as like-liking someone. As in, "I like him, but I don't like-him-like-him, so I said no when he asked me to Homecoming."
Now, I know you're married to a lovely woman, which may explain the usage of "lub" as opposed to "like" or "love," but you also say, "we," which leads me to believe I have a lot of sort-of-timid-non-committal friends which is mildly disturbing. I'd like to think the sentiment behind the message was a sweet one, but I'm just sort of left feeling like I'm stuck in limbo, not knowing where I really stand with anyone. And apparently, these are very strong non-committal feelings. I don't even know how that works. Did I do something to offend you all? How is it that I'm sitting on the fence between like and love and y'all can't make up your minds? If I was taller, would that help? Or if I gave everybody kittens for Christmas? Hell, I'd even call you all really mean names so I'd move over into hate territory because even that is clearer than this whole "lub" thing.
I need to lie down now.
Thank you, A.A. for your question. Keep 'em coming, guys! askmisskittyanything@gmail.com
Showing posts with label pop culture. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pop culture. Show all posts
Monday, July 11, 2011
Friday, January 14, 2011
Too Far?
M.A. asks, "I made a Facebook page for my cat. Have I gone too far?"
My initial reaction to this question was, "Yes, yes, a thousand times yes," but then I had to give it a bit more thought. Because while I'm sure you may be actually offending your cat instead of honoring your cat (more on that in a minute), we, of course, have to consider what is "too far."
You're familiar with LOLcats, yes? How could you not be? I currently have this guy hanging on my cubicle wall at work because he just makes me giggle every time I look at him. With his little tongue sticking out. So cute. And I love LOLcats - I really do. But I am almost positive that there are some cats on there into whose mouths words were placed that do not belong there. For example, I created this one with my cat, based on his undying love of my yoga mat. But then two other people recaptioned it, one of them naming my cat "Millie." His name is not "Millie." And while the caption is kind of funny, I know (because we've chatted about it) that those were not the thoughts running through my cat's head at the time. And he was a little offended by the fact that someone thought his tan was fake.
The point I'm trying to make here is that unless your cat gets to update his/her own Facebook page, or has some sort of creative control over the content, you may find that you are actually completely mis-representing your cat to the rest of the cats on Facebook. And the rest of the humans, for that matter. So I'd just be careful what you put up there. If you post, "ate mouse today and LOL'd" as a status update and wake up with scratches all over your face, well, you'll really only have yourself to blame.
But then I read this article on Cracked.com (fantastic site, by the way, if you're into the whole random factoid kind of thing, which I totally am). Go ahead and take the minute or two to read the thing. Or just skip to the number one entry. Yeah. That, I think, would constitute going too far. As Janeane Garofalo said in The Truth About Cats and Dogs, "It's okay to love your pets, just don't love your pets." Or bang and eat them.
So in that context, no, I don't think creating a Facebook page for your cat it going too far. Just be careful what you post there or you might, you know, suddenly have a very unpleasant living situation at home.
Thank you, M.A. for your question! Keep 'em coming, guys! askmisskittyanything@gmail.com
My initial reaction to this question was, "Yes, yes, a thousand times yes," but then I had to give it a bit more thought. Because while I'm sure you may be actually offending your cat instead of honoring your cat (more on that in a minute), we, of course, have to consider what is "too far."
You're familiar with LOLcats, yes? How could you not be? I currently have this guy hanging on my cubicle wall at work because he just makes me giggle every time I look at him. With his little tongue sticking out. So cute. And I love LOLcats - I really do. But I am almost positive that there are some cats on there into whose mouths words were placed that do not belong there. For example, I created this one with my cat, based on his undying love of my yoga mat. But then two other people recaptioned it, one of them naming my cat "Millie." His name is not "Millie." And while the caption is kind of funny, I know (because we've chatted about it) that those were not the thoughts running through my cat's head at the time. And he was a little offended by the fact that someone thought his tan was fake.
The point I'm trying to make here is that unless your cat gets to update his/her own Facebook page, or has some sort of creative control over the content, you may find that you are actually completely mis-representing your cat to the rest of the cats on Facebook. And the rest of the humans, for that matter. So I'd just be careful what you put up there. If you post, "ate mouse today and LOL'd" as a status update and wake up with scratches all over your face, well, you'll really only have yourself to blame.
But then I read this article on Cracked.com (fantastic site, by the way, if you're into the whole random factoid kind of thing, which I totally am). Go ahead and take the minute or two to read the thing. Or just skip to the number one entry. Yeah. That, I think, would constitute going too far. As Janeane Garofalo said in The Truth About Cats and Dogs, "It's okay to love your pets, just don't love your pets." Or bang and eat them.
So in that context, no, I don't think creating a Facebook page for your cat it going too far. Just be careful what you post there or you might, you know, suddenly have a very unpleasant living situation at home.
Thank you, M.A. for your question! Keep 'em coming, guys! askmisskittyanything@gmail.com
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Stubble
T.E. asks, "Dear Miss Kitty,
The current crop of male actors and country music stars all seem to be sporting a three or four day stubble. Yet they rock it. They ooze "hipster chic".
On the other hand, if I didn't shave for a few days I would simply appear homeless. Why?"
I have one word for you, T.E. - "stylists."
I don't know if you remember back in the '80s when piranha pants became popular, but it was a similar thing. The guys in Def Leppard were able to afford the $300 shredded jeans where some poor worker in a sweat shop spent hours making sure every rip and every tear was evenly spaced, perfectly shredded. There was (I almost hate to say it) a sort of art form involved in perfectly distressing a pair of jeans so you could look like a rock star who didn't care about your appearance. Of course, those of us who couldn't afford the $300 jeans thought, "Hey, I can do that myself with a pair of scissors!" Except mostly, we just ended up looking dumb. Because we didn't have the eye for symmetrical distressing! And we didn't know when to stop.
Same thing applies to scruff. See, all those scruffy movie stars have someone to tell them when the scruff is too long, when it's not as filled in on one side as the other, and when it is time to get rid of the stuff creeping up towards their eyeballs. And that person is called a stylist. The stylist not only tells the star what shade of brown leather jacket goes best with his fuzz, but she has all kinds of tools for shaping, sculpting, and filling in and problem areas. She will remind the star to shave his neck. She will stay on him about oral hygiene so that his teeth are perfect and blindingly white for maximum glistening through the bristles. In short, it is her job to make sure his stubble is perfectly trimmed and conditioned for maximum sexiness. Literally. That's what she gets paid for.
I'm guessing you, on the other hand, don't have a full-person's-annual-salary-and-health-benefits-worth of disposable income lying around with which to pay a stylist - most of us "normal" people don't. And that is okay. But it means that when you were trying to sculpt your stubble, you may have had the electric razor on "2" for one side of your face and "1" for the other. Or that scar on your chin from when you fell out of a tree when you were nine and had to get six stitches that just doesn't grow hair will shine through like a neon sign saying, "I'm too poor to have my own personal makeup artist fix this for me!" And you know what? That's okay. Because you are real. And real is sexy in its own right.
If you're really worried about it, though, ask around amongst your female friends to see if they dig the stubble look on you. If not, you might want to stick with a regular shaving routine until such time as you can afford a stylist.
Thank you, T.E. for your question! Keep 'em coming, guys! askmisskittyanything@gmail.com
The current crop of male actors and country music stars all seem to be sporting a three or four day stubble. Yet they rock it. They ooze "hipster chic".
On the other hand, if I didn't shave for a few days I would simply appear homeless. Why?"
I have one word for you, T.E. - "stylists."
I don't know if you remember back in the '80s when piranha pants became popular, but it was a similar thing. The guys in Def Leppard were able to afford the $300 shredded jeans where some poor worker in a sweat shop spent hours making sure every rip and every tear was evenly spaced, perfectly shredded. There was (I almost hate to say it) a sort of art form involved in perfectly distressing a pair of jeans so you could look like a rock star who didn't care about your appearance. Of course, those of us who couldn't afford the $300 jeans thought, "Hey, I can do that myself with a pair of scissors!" Except mostly, we just ended up looking dumb. Because we didn't have the eye for symmetrical distressing! And we didn't know when to stop.
Same thing applies to scruff. See, all those scruffy movie stars have someone to tell them when the scruff is too long, when it's not as filled in on one side as the other, and when it is time to get rid of the stuff creeping up towards their eyeballs. And that person is called a stylist. The stylist not only tells the star what shade of brown leather jacket goes best with his fuzz, but she has all kinds of tools for shaping, sculpting, and filling in and problem areas. She will remind the star to shave his neck. She will stay on him about oral hygiene so that his teeth are perfect and blindingly white for maximum glistening through the bristles. In short, it is her job to make sure his stubble is perfectly trimmed and conditioned for maximum sexiness. Literally. That's what she gets paid for.
![sculpting](http://www.remnantband.com/pictures/facial.hair.jpg"){kind=link}
I'm guessing you, on the other hand, don't have a full-person's-annual-salary-and-health-benefits-worth of disposable income lying around with which to pay a stylist - most of us "normal" people don't. And that is okay. But it means that when you were trying to sculpt your stubble, you may have had the electric razor on "2" for one side of your face and "1" for the other. Or that scar on your chin from when you fell out of a tree when you were nine and had to get six stitches that just doesn't grow hair will shine through like a neon sign saying, "I'm too poor to have my own personal makeup artist fix this for me!" And you know what? That's okay. Because you are real. And real is sexy in its own right.
If you're really worried about it, though, ask around amongst your female friends to see if they dig the stubble look on you. If not, you might want to stick with a regular shaving routine until such time as you can afford a stylist.
Thank you, T.E. for your question! Keep 'em coming, guys! askmisskittyanything@gmail.com
Monday, January 10, 2011
Laws
H.J. asks, "Dear Miss Kitty,
I recently read that Hugh Heffner announced via Twitter his preparations to marry for a third time. Aren't there laws against this?
H.J."
Which part? Getting married, being Hugh Heffner, or announcing things via Twitter?
Actually, in all three cases, the answer is "no."
Unfortunately, the only thing that could stop Hugh Heffner from getting married would be if he announced his plans to marry the houseboy, instead of the housebunny, and even that would only stop him in certain states. No, while Harry cannot have one husband, Liz is allowed eight. It's sad, but it is good protest sign fodder.
There is also no law against being Hugh Heffner. Unless you are not Hugh Heffner and you run around telling people that you are him. Especially if you take his credit cards and social security card and stuff and buy all sorts of things. Which he could totally afford, but still. That might land you in jail, but will most likely not get him in a whole load of trouble.
And Twitter...well, there should be laws against Twitter but there aren't. Nor are there laws preventing people from announcing things there. There is a sort of unwritten rule of douchebaggery that states "If the party of the first part is unaware of the happenings in the life of the party of the second part, the party of the second part retains all rights and privileges associated with being put out that the party of the first part could not be bothered to read the Twitter account of the party of the second part. The party of the second part will not be held liable for the party of the first part missing out on any super groovy social activities due to the general disinterest of the party of the first part in not reading Twitter because, dude, I only posted it up there, like, ten times between 2 and 3am after we hit the burrito stand. What do you mean you went home and went to sleep? It's not my fault you're a wus. If you want to know what's going on, you have to read my Twitter - I'm not going to tell you otherwise, because then what would be the point of posting it on Twitter?"
Or something like that.
So, as there are no laws to prevent it, I wish Heff and his new wife all sorts of joy as they embark on this lifelong journey together. And no, she is not a gold digger.
Thank you, H.J. for your question! Keep 'em coming, guys! askmisskittyanything@gmail.com
I recently read that Hugh Heffner announced via Twitter his preparations to marry for a third time. Aren't there laws against this?
H.J."
Which part? Getting married, being Hugh Heffner, or announcing things via Twitter?
Actually, in all three cases, the answer is "no."
Unfortunately, the only thing that could stop Hugh Heffner from getting married would be if he announced his plans to marry the houseboy, instead of the housebunny, and even that would only stop him in certain states. No, while Harry cannot have one husband, Liz is allowed eight. It's sad, but it is good protest sign fodder.
There is also no law against being Hugh Heffner. Unless you are not Hugh Heffner and you run around telling people that you are him. Especially if you take his credit cards and social security card and stuff and buy all sorts of things. Which he could totally afford, but still. That might land you in jail, but will most likely not get him in a whole load of trouble.
And Twitter...well, there should be laws against Twitter but there aren't. Nor are there laws preventing people from announcing things there. There is a sort of unwritten rule of douchebaggery that states "If the party of the first part is unaware of the happenings in the life of the party of the second part, the party of the second part retains all rights and privileges associated with being put out that the party of the first part could not be bothered to read the Twitter account of the party of the second part. The party of the second part will not be held liable for the party of the first part missing out on any super groovy social activities due to the general disinterest of the party of the first part in not reading Twitter because, dude, I only posted it up there, like, ten times between 2 and 3am after we hit the burrito stand. What do you mean you went home and went to sleep? It's not my fault you're a wus. If you want to know what's going on, you have to read my Twitter - I'm not going to tell you otherwise, because then what would be the point of posting it on Twitter?"
![douchebaggery](http://img1.tvloop.com/img/showpics/0d/57/l33c16eec0001_2_23265.jpg"){kind=link}
Or something like that.
So, as there are no laws to prevent it, I wish Heff and his new wife all sorts of joy as they embark on this lifelong journey together. And no, she is not a gold digger.
Thank you, H.J. for your question! Keep 'em coming, guys! askmisskittyanything@gmail.com
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
Netflix and the Wii
Happy New Year!
J.E. asks, "Dear Miss Kitty,
I recently got Netflix for the Wii. I've since lost the desire to leave the house. My husband tells me this is a problem. I disagree since I can stop anytime I want to, I just don't want to right now. How do I get him off of my back?
J. E."
Sorry I was absent for a little while there - I was watching a bunch of stuff from my Netflix queue. Damn, that's a good show.
And really quickly, before I get too in to this answer, I want to say that I hope everyone had a safe and happy new year, and I hope that now, five days into the new year, it hasn't been all blown to hell yet. Like, I dunno, you find out that your celebrity crush is getting married. Not to you. Even though you're sure you'd get along swimmingly, and you don't want to come off as a stalker, but really, couldn't he have at least waited until he'd met you before running off and swearing to love his girlfriend of two and a half years for the rest of his life? People fall in love with total strangers all of the time, right? At least that's what the movies in my Netflix queue tell me.
So anyway. I hope nothing like that has happened to you this year and you are still warm from the New Year Buzz. It's a thing. I swear.
Netflix! We're onto Netflix and the Wii. Such a lethal combination. I came to the discovery over the holiday break that my Wii is being used primarily as a device for watching things through Netflix, and that I really have no idea what is going on in the world because watching things through Netflix, I don't see commercials much anymore (except those irritating Menards ones with the theme song that won't ever leave your brain). So I did what any responsible adult would do - I went out and bought some video games.
But as with any addiction, the easiest way to get someone off of your back about the addiction is to turn said person into an addict as well. Does your husband know that you can watch "Battlestar Galactica" streaming on Netflix? Or all of "Lost?" I think they even have some pro-wrestling tapes on there ("tapes" because the last time anyone recorded professional wrestling for distribution was in the Hulk Hogan era). Is he aware how many bonus points he will get for snuggling up and watching some stupid romantic comedy with you, streaming on Netflix, and he won't even have to pay for movie tickets or snacks? It's the ultimate cheap date night. He doesn't even have to spring for cab fare to get you home and into bed - just get you upstairs, or (if you don't have kids or roommates) out of your pants. Couches can be very romantic places, after all.
So my recommendation to you is that you try to bring him into your world. Start by watching something you know he would like (even if it's not your favorite) streaming on Netflix so as he is walking past the room, he is enticed to stop and have a taste. When that movie or episode ends, you can introduce him to the wonders of online video watching using Netflix and the Wii.
Your marriage will never be the same.
Thank you, J.E. for your question! Keep 'em coming, guys! askmisskittyanything@gmail.com
J.E. asks, "Dear Miss Kitty,
I recently got Netflix for the Wii. I've since lost the desire to leave the house. My husband tells me this is a problem. I disagree since I can stop anytime I want to, I just don't want to right now. How do I get him off of my back?
J. E."
Sorry I was absent for a little while there - I was watching a bunch of stuff from my Netflix queue. Damn, that's a good show.
And really quickly, before I get too in to this answer, I want to say that I hope everyone had a safe and happy new year, and I hope that now, five days into the new year, it hasn't been all blown to hell yet. Like, I dunno, you find out that your celebrity crush is getting married. Not to you. Even though you're sure you'd get along swimmingly, and you don't want to come off as a stalker, but really, couldn't he have at least waited until he'd met you before running off and swearing to love his girlfriend of two and a half years for the rest of his life? People fall in love with total strangers all of the time, right? At least that's what the movies in my Netflix queue tell me.
So anyway. I hope nothing like that has happened to you this year and you are still warm from the New Year Buzz. It's a thing. I swear.
Netflix! We're onto Netflix and the Wii. Such a lethal combination. I came to the discovery over the holiday break that my Wii is being used primarily as a device for watching things through Netflix, and that I really have no idea what is going on in the world because watching things through Netflix, I don't see commercials much anymore (except those irritating Menards ones with the theme song that won't ever leave your brain). So I did what any responsible adult would do - I went out and bought some video games.
But as with any addiction, the easiest way to get someone off of your back about the addiction is to turn said person into an addict as well. Does your husband know that you can watch "Battlestar Galactica" streaming on Netflix? Or all of "Lost?" I think they even have some pro-wrestling tapes on there ("tapes" because the last time anyone recorded professional wrestling for distribution was in the Hulk Hogan era). Is he aware how many bonus points he will get for snuggling up and watching some stupid romantic comedy with you, streaming on Netflix, and he won't even have to pay for movie tickets or snacks? It's the ultimate cheap date night. He doesn't even have to spring for cab fare to get you home and into bed - just get you upstairs, or (if you don't have kids or roommates) out of your pants. Couches can be very romantic places, after all.
So my recommendation to you is that you try to bring him into your world. Start by watching something you know he would like (even if it's not your favorite) streaming on Netflix so as he is walking past the room, he is enticed to stop and have a taste. When that movie or episode ends, you can introduce him to the wonders of online video watching using Netflix and the Wii.
Your marriage will never be the same.
Thank you, J.E. for your question! Keep 'em coming, guys! askmisskittyanything@gmail.com
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
Santa vs. The Easter Bunny
T.E. asks, "My Dear Miss Kitty,
Who has the cooler job, Santa or the Easter Bunny?"
Santa.
Hands down, it's Santa.
So this answer is going to be more text-y than link-y, but I think I have some pretty solid reasons why Santa has it better than the Easter Bunny, so just bear with me, if you would.
Okay, let's look at living conditions first.
Santa lives at the North Pole (horrible weather) in a sort of magical workshop where he is surrounded by his wife, elves, reindeer and bajillions of toys. It's always kind of holiday-ish at Santa's workshop, so I'm guessing there is singing and lights and probably some pretty decent grub. We all know Santa's a little on the larger side, and one doesn't get that way if the food sucks. Let's be honest.
The Easter Bunny lives...somewhere. Nobody really knows. But if he is like any other bunny, he probably lives in a hole in the ground. There may be other bunnies or there may not be. Probably not. If there were, we would have heard of Mrs. Easter Bunny, right? He's probably a bachelor who goes around procreating like, well, a bunny, but he can't be seen with all of these kids hanging about so all of his former girlfriend bunnies have scorned him and don't come around any more either. And let's be honest, if you're a bunny that looks like this, do you really want to be seen hanging around with this guy? Or worse, this one?
Point: Santa.
Next we look at job circumstances.
Santa works all year long. Making toys. He gets to build trains and dolls and iPods and drills and all kinds of fun things. If he gets tired of making tops, he can switch over to blocks for a day. And again, the work environment is filled with elves singing, people to chat with, and good food. Then, once a year, he climbs into a magical sled and takes a trip around the world where people leave cookies for him at every stop. Not too shabby, I'd say.
The Easter Bunny works one day a year. Not too bad. Until you consider that he has to steal his product (eggs) because bunnies don't lay eggs. So in the days leading up to Easter, he has to break into hen houses to try to collect enough eggs to hide for the children to find, or he has to break into various variety stories to get those brightly colored plastic eggs and then fill them with stuff. He could, at any time, be caught and dragged off to jail or shot by an angry farmer. And then he has to go hide the eggs so other people can find and consume the treats within. And he has to do this all by himself. No little worker bunnies hopping around to help with the stealing and hiding, and nobody to leave little treats for him as he does his job.
Point: Santa.
And finally, attire.
Santa gets to wear a nice, big, warm, fuzzy red suit with boots and a hat and gloves so he stays nice and toasty on his round-the-world trip. And I'm guessing he can wear whatever he wants in the workshop.
The Easter Bunny sometimes gets to wear really horrible vests or bow-ties, but that's about it. You know how dank and muddy it can be in March or April? And he doesn't even get to wear boots? Sure he's an animal, but do we have to treat him like one?
Point, set, match: Santa.
Sorry, Easter Bunny, but you just plain got screwed with your holiday. It's not even on the same day every year, for crying out loud. At least you get to hawk Cadbury Creme Eggs for a little while each year. Those things are tasty.
Thank you, T.E. for your question! Keep 'em coming, guys! askmisskittyanything@gmail.com
Who has the cooler job, Santa or the Easter Bunny?"
Santa.
Hands down, it's Santa.
So this answer is going to be more text-y than link-y, but I think I have some pretty solid reasons why Santa has it better than the Easter Bunny, so just bear with me, if you would.
Okay, let's look at living conditions first.
Santa lives at the North Pole (horrible weather) in a sort of magical workshop where he is surrounded by his wife, elves, reindeer and bajillions of toys. It's always kind of holiday-ish at Santa's workshop, so I'm guessing there is singing and lights and probably some pretty decent grub. We all know Santa's a little on the larger side, and one doesn't get that way if the food sucks. Let's be honest.
The Easter Bunny lives...somewhere. Nobody really knows. But if he is like any other bunny, he probably lives in a hole in the ground. There may be other bunnies or there may not be. Probably not. If there were, we would have heard of Mrs. Easter Bunny, right? He's probably a bachelor who goes around procreating like, well, a bunny, but he can't be seen with all of these kids hanging about so all of his former girlfriend bunnies have scorned him and don't come around any more either. And let's be honest, if you're a bunny that looks like this, do you really want to be seen hanging around with this guy? Or worse, this one?
Point: Santa.
Next we look at job circumstances.
Santa works all year long. Making toys. He gets to build trains and dolls and iPods and drills and all kinds of fun things. If he gets tired of making tops, he can switch over to blocks for a day. And again, the work environment is filled with elves singing, people to chat with, and good food. Then, once a year, he climbs into a magical sled and takes a trip around the world where people leave cookies for him at every stop. Not too shabby, I'd say.
The Easter Bunny works one day a year. Not too bad. Until you consider that he has to steal his product (eggs) because bunnies don't lay eggs. So in the days leading up to Easter, he has to break into hen houses to try to collect enough eggs to hide for the children to find, or he has to break into various variety stories to get those brightly colored plastic eggs and then fill them with stuff. He could, at any time, be caught and dragged off to jail or shot by an angry farmer. And then he has to go hide the eggs so other people can find and consume the treats within. And he has to do this all by himself. No little worker bunnies hopping around to help with the stealing and hiding, and nobody to leave little treats for him as he does his job.
Point: Santa.
And finally, attire.
Santa gets to wear a nice, big, warm, fuzzy red suit with boots and a hat and gloves so he stays nice and toasty on his round-the-world trip. And I'm guessing he can wear whatever he wants in the workshop.
The Easter Bunny sometimes gets to wear really horrible vests or bow-ties, but that's about it. You know how dank and muddy it can be in March or April? And he doesn't even get to wear boots? Sure he's an animal, but do we have to treat him like one?
Point, set, match: Santa.
Sorry, Easter Bunny, but you just plain got screwed with your holiday. It's not even on the same day every year, for crying out loud. At least you get to hawk Cadbury Creme Eggs for a little while each year. Those things are tasty.
Thank you, T.E. for your question! Keep 'em coming, guys! askmisskittyanything@gmail.com
Friday, December 17, 2010
Starting in Music
J.J. asks, "Dear Miss Kitty,
For someone just starting out, what advice would you give to someone eager to play music? Just go solo, or try to put a band together?
J.J."
Hi, J.J. I think the answer to this question depends on quite a few variables. When you say, "just staring out," do you mean, "Never had one lesson," or "I've been playing for a while and am just getting up the confidence to play out?" Because if it is the former, I would recommend first taking some lessons. Really. Sure, you can go to open mics and try to sell your "music" to the public, but chances are, they will just kind of tolerate you until it is time for the next guy who is there pimping his CD release show to come up and play something good. Or, you could try to find bandmates, and you may find some, but they will find out very quickly that you add nothing to the group and may end up kicking you out of your own band.
If it is the latter, it all depends on what kind of music you are making. Some music doesn't require anything beyond a person and an instrument. Some does. If the kind of music you are making requires a band, I would recommend not only finding fellow band members, but also a good stylist, make-up artist, agent, manager, and personal trainer. You'll also want to find a good studio that has the most updated AutoTune software because my guess is that in between workouts, shopping trips, meetings, events, charity functions, awards galas, and other various public appearances, you won't really have much time left to rehearse. Which is fine. Nobody is going to be coming to your shows to see you "sing." They'll be there for the spectacle of it. Which reminds me - make sure your pyrotechnician is union. You'd hate for something bad to happen.
And good luck with your musical career!
Thank you, J.J. for your question. Keep 'em coming, guys! askmisskittyanything@gmail.com
For someone just starting out, what advice would you give to someone eager to play music? Just go solo, or try to put a band together?
J.J."
Hi, J.J. I think the answer to this question depends on quite a few variables. When you say, "just staring out," do you mean, "Never had one lesson," or "I've been playing for a while and am just getting up the confidence to play out?" Because if it is the former, I would recommend first taking some lessons. Really. Sure, you can go to open mics and try to sell your "music" to the public, but chances are, they will just kind of tolerate you until it is time for the next guy who is there pimping his CD release show to come up and play something good. Or, you could try to find bandmates, and you may find some, but they will find out very quickly that you add nothing to the group and may end up kicking you out of your own band.
If it is the latter, it all depends on what kind of music you are making. Some music doesn't require anything beyond a person and an instrument. Some does. If the kind of music you are making requires a band, I would recommend not only finding fellow band members, but also a good stylist, make-up artist, agent, manager, and personal trainer. You'll also want to find a good studio that has the most updated AutoTune software because my guess is that in between workouts, shopping trips, meetings, events, charity functions, awards galas, and other various public appearances, you won't really have much time left to rehearse. Which is fine. Nobody is going to be coming to your shows to see you "sing." They'll be there for the spectacle of it. Which reminds me - make sure your pyrotechnician is union. You'd hate for something bad to happen.
And good luck with your musical career!
Thank you, J.J. for your question. Keep 'em coming, guys! askmisskittyanything@gmail.com
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
"The Devil Wears Prada" - SPOILERS
L.W. asks,"Hey,
If you haven't seen the movie 'The Devil Wears Prada', then please don't read this question. I only recently saw the movie myself and enjoyed it more than I thought I would, so if you haven't seen it but plan to in the future, please stop reading now.
Dear Miss Kitty,
As Stephen Hawking once said, "the male mind is a weak tool," -- especially when it comes to understanding women. I am a guy who has somehow found myself in the middle of an argument with an old female friend and could sorely use some of your sage advice. It all began innocently enough when I finally got around to watching the film 'The Devil Wears Prada.' I enjoyed it more than I thought I would, especially the hero's journey the lead character undergoes armed only with her youthful 'courage and pluck.' What I failed to understand is why the film ends with this character getting back together with her lame boyfriend. Perhaps I failed to understand why he refused to emotionally support her for a single year working a job that would have provided her with a resume that would allow her to land any future job she chose. Instead of viewing her 'apprenticeship' as one would medical school or law school, her boyfriend and their 'friends' are shown to ridicule and undermine her at every opportunity (except when she discovers lingerie). His 'non-apology apology' at the conclusion of the film coupled with the fact that the most supportive action he ever took was feeding her leftover cheese makes it difficult for me to suspend my disbelief that this smart, charming, beautiful, hard-working woman would beg him to take her back.
So, I thought I had missed something and emailed a female friend for her take on the film. Her response:
'I have indeed seen Devil wears Prada. We used to joke about it a lot at my old job since we basically worked for the same woman. I do find it interesting that you've focused your attention on the side plot of this romance. And I don't recall her ever being subservient to him. I think the message of the story is about leading a life you chose, and that is by definition feminism. I don't think there is anything wrong with a nice boy who will cook you dinner when you've had a bad day. It's a lot better than what most gals have. She didn't stay with him because she had to and she checked out some other merchandise.
But then again, I left my high profile job for one where the money is less, but the respect is far greater. And I gave up searching for a powerful partner filled with money and excitement for a boy who listens to me, buys me ice cream and walks my dog at 4 am.'
I am now utterly confused. Is the boyfriend character in the film really a great guy and I'm just not seeing it? And why is my friend now angry with me?
L.W."
Hey, L.W. I had not previously seen the movie, but as I have promised to answer every question that is asked, I went to the video store, forked over $3.23, and watched the thing. I hadn't watched it previously because it didn't look like the kind of movie I would enjoy. And I was right.
I will say that Meryl Streep was brilliant as her character, but then, she's Meryl Friggin' Streep. And Stanley Tucci was lovely, as always, but then, he's Stanley Friggin' Tucci. So please keep in mind that nothing I say in the rest of this post is intended as a reflection on either of them. I thought they were great.
In general, though, I thought the film was crap. Sorry, the script was crap. Or maybe they just performed it crappily. Or maybe I just don't have a strong enough sense of disbelief to think that there is a world wherein this woman is considered fat and ugly. Oh no! They put a frumpy sweater on her and teased the bottom inch and a half of her hair! She's hideous! Yeah, not buyin' it. And I know that the modeling/fashion industry is really hard on the collective female self image, but I'm also not buyin' it that Ms. Hathaway is a size six. Her supposedly gorgeous coworker does not look smaller than Anne. She maybe just has smaller boobs. But she did manage to marry John Krasinsky, so good on ya, mate.
So okay, let's say that is just me and the rest of y'all are willing to buy into the plaid skirt = atrocious philosophy. Let's take a look at her relationships. She's living with a guy who has a dream of being a chef, and at the end of the film, he's moving to Boston to pursue his dreams and isn't that great? But like you observed, he begrudges her taking this annoying job at the magazine in pursuit of her dreams. Kind of a douche. And yes, she could have blown of the gala and gotten fired so she could be there for his birthday, but seriously, who is going to say to Dragon Lady boss, "I'm not going to go to this fabulous event where I get to wear amazing clothes and meet people who can further my career because my boyfriend will get pouty if I miss his birthday dinner?" Who does that? Yes, it is an option, but not an option that any career motivated-type person is going to take. Especially since we see at the beginning of the film that this is the only job she's even gotten an interview for since graduation. Has Boyfriend forgotten that if she loses her job, she also loses her paycheck? Which I'm guessing has to be a pretty decent size, considering how much she was able to turn her wardrobe around in such a short amount of time. Because really, do we honestly believe that Stanley Tucci is dressing her out of the sample closet every morning when she's too much of a cow to fit into anything they have back there in the first place? So yeah, you're right. Boyfriend is a douche. And your friend is also kind of right - we don't really see her being subservient to him, but she does come home with a cupcake and an apology which he refuses to take. I was waiting for her to scream, "I just passed up an opportunity to schmooze with the Editor-in-Chief of The New Yorker so I could bring you this sad little cupcake and you're pissed at me?" I would have. Or at least I'd like to think I would have. But yeah. He owes her an apology for being completely non-supportive of anything she does, except when she brings him free crap from work. But instead, she apologizes for REALLY NOT CHANGING AT ALL.
That's right. I said it. I don't see her change at all. Except her wardrobe. At the beginning, she's a strong, confident woman who is extraordinarily nice to everyone, whether they deserve it or not. At the end, she's a strong confident woman who is extraordinarily nice to everyone, whether they deserve it or not, who dresses better. At no point in the film does she become a conniving bitch, even though she is made to think she is. Which brings me to the next two relationships that don't make any sense in this film.
Her best friend. Otherwise known as "the only non-Caucasian person in the film." Look at how diverse we are! One second, she's in love with Ms. Hathaway's character because she just received a really expensive, impossible to find, one of a kind handbag for free. FOR FREE. And not ten seconds later, she's pissed that Ms. Hathaway "slights" her to answer a call from her boss. Who was the provider of the beautiful free bag in the first place. Hello! If she doesn't take the call from her boss, and jump every time her boss tells her to, she doesn't get all the pretty pretty swag which she then gives to you. That scene might have made more sense if as Anne was walking out the door, the friend said, "Take your stupid bag with you. I'd rather have dinner with my friend." But no, she sits clutching the bag like it's her precious, scowling at the person who just gave it to her. And then we flash to a few nights later when Anne shows up to her friend's art show. Anne's being supportive! Which none of her friends have bothered to be of her, but she's there. And the friend witnesses a kiss on the cheek between Anne and an "unknown gentleman" and all of a sudden, Anne isn't the person she knew anymore? What? They weren't making out. They were talking and he kissed her goodbye the way you'd kiss your grandmother goodbye. Hell, I'm willing to bet that 85% of the people in the fashion industry say goodbye that way. But without even letting her get a word out, bam! They're not friends anymore. No thank you for the bag, but I'm keeping it anyway.
And then, the relationship with the coworker across the corridor. Who is horrible to Anne through the entire movie. Seriously, she never does one nice thing for her. Makes fun of her to her face. Tells her to shut up and go away when she tries to make small talk. Is a selfish, self-centered bitch. And Anne, for some unknown reason, feels this devotion to her, as if she owed her something. This person has never been nice to you. There is no indication that this person will ever be nice to you. You do not have to feel guilty for doing a better job at work than she does. This is the straw that supposedly breaks her at the end of the film - she "took" the trip to Paris away from Emily. Except no, she didn't. She worked harder and proved herself to be more reliable (and less germ-ridden and less on-crutches-after-being-hit-by-a-car), and she was rewarded for that. Sure, she could have turned it down, but first of all, who would turn down a promotion for a co-worker who treats you like shit, and secondly, there was no guarantee that Emily would have gone to Paris if Anne hadn't. Meryl says that she wants to take the best team with her to Fashion Week and that no longer includes Emily. Which, to me, sounds more like Emily screwed herself out of a trip to Paris than anything sneaky and conniving that Anne did. Especially since Anne does nothing sneaky and conniving in the entire film.
And just because I have a little bit of a rant left in me, her relationship with Stanley Tucci's character. He's marvelous. The more I see of him, the more I like him. But he's not exactly welcoming of her when she joins the company. He, too, calls her fat and makes fun of her clothes. So she goes to him when she's having a bad day and needs advice? What? When did they become friends? Yes, they become friends later in the film, after she lets him play with her wardrobe, but that's kind of random and needy, don't you think? If anyone in the film had the right to be irked by her behavior, it was him. And he was not. He grew to love her and find her charming and delightful. So why don't any of her friends love her and find her charming and delightful?
And why does she take the non-supportive boyfriend back at the end of the film? Because as much as she wants to be the strong, powerful woman who knows what she wants, she is most comfortable in abusive relationships. It's the only explanation, really. It explains why she chose those friends in the first place. It explains why she didn't walk away from that job a half-dozen times. It explains why it becomes so important to her to impress Meryl. It explains why she feels some twisted loyalty to Emily. She may be a good writer, and she may be a beautiful woman. But from where I was sitting, I saw a woman who has some really screwed up ideas of what relationships are supposed to be, so it really was no surprise that after everyone has beaten her down through the entire film, she goes crawling back to her bum of a boyfriend (who she will probably leave New York for) under the guises of "this is my choice." If you really wanted to choose something good for yourself, a happy life for yourself, you would choose to get rid of all of the abusive relationships in it, not just quit your job. And she didn't even use the connections she made in the craptastic job! Not really. She interviews at the end for "The New York Mirror." She supposedly just "sold her soul" to get a credit on her resume that would take her anywhere so she "chooses" to go to Sheboygan? Really? If you can do anything, you're going to write for a paper nobody reads? Okay. Sure. This is a film about feminism and female power and choosing the life you lead. I can't wait to show this to my daughters to teach them to work extremely hard and be extremely nice so they can settle for eighth best and call it a "choice."
And I suppose I now sound like the Meryl Streep character. Oh well.
I'm sorry. I was supposed to be answering a question, but instead I'm ripping on a film. In short, no, the boyfriend is not a good guy. I was kind of sickened when she went back to him at the end. I would prefer a guy like your friend has, who would listen to me and buy me ice cream and walk my dog (if I had one). I think your friend, though, may have been equating your thoughts on the boyfriend in the film to her boyfriend in real life. Because we also need to mention the other romantic interest in the film (the guy with too much product in his hair), who is probably like the "powerful partner filled with money and excitement" that your friend gave up looking for. Which she probably took to mean you meant she wound up with the boyfriend from the film, who you were calling a douche, ergo, you were calling her boyfriend a douche. Which is why she is upset with you. Go apologize to your friend. And then go watch a good movie, where the lead character goes on a journey somewhere more interesting than to the mall.
Thank you, J.H. for your question! Keep 'em coming, guys! askmisskittyanything@gmail.com
If you haven't seen the movie 'The Devil Wears Prada', then please don't read this question. I only recently saw the movie myself and enjoyed it more than I thought I would, so if you haven't seen it but plan to in the future, please stop reading now.
Dear Miss Kitty,
As Stephen Hawking once said, "the male mind is a weak tool," -- especially when it comes to understanding women. I am a guy who has somehow found myself in the middle of an argument with an old female friend and could sorely use some of your sage advice. It all began innocently enough when I finally got around to watching the film 'The Devil Wears Prada.' I enjoyed it more than I thought I would, especially the hero's journey the lead character undergoes armed only with her youthful 'courage and pluck.' What I failed to understand is why the film ends with this character getting back together with her lame boyfriend. Perhaps I failed to understand why he refused to emotionally support her for a single year working a job that would have provided her with a resume that would allow her to land any future job she chose. Instead of viewing her 'apprenticeship' as one would medical school or law school, her boyfriend and their 'friends' are shown to ridicule and undermine her at every opportunity (except when she discovers lingerie). His 'non-apology apology' at the conclusion of the film coupled with the fact that the most supportive action he ever took was feeding her leftover cheese makes it difficult for me to suspend my disbelief that this smart, charming, beautiful, hard-working woman would beg him to take her back.
So, I thought I had missed something and emailed a female friend for her take on the film. Her response:
'I have indeed seen Devil wears Prada. We used to joke about it a lot at my old job since we basically worked for the same woman. I do find it interesting that you've focused your attention on the side plot of this romance. And I don't recall her ever being subservient to him. I think the message of the story is about leading a life you chose, and that is by definition feminism. I don't think there is anything wrong with a nice boy who will cook you dinner when you've had a bad day. It's a lot better than what most gals have. She didn't stay with him because she had to and she checked out some other merchandise.
But then again, I left my high profile job for one where the money is less, but the respect is far greater. And I gave up searching for a powerful partner filled with money and excitement for a boy who listens to me, buys me ice cream and walks my dog at 4 am.'
I am now utterly confused. Is the boyfriend character in the film really a great guy and I'm just not seeing it? And why is my friend now angry with me?
L.W."
Hey, L.W. I had not previously seen the movie, but as I have promised to answer every question that is asked, I went to the video store, forked over $3.23, and watched the thing. I hadn't watched it previously because it didn't look like the kind of movie I would enjoy. And I was right.
I will say that Meryl Streep was brilliant as her character, but then, she's Meryl Friggin' Streep. And Stanley Tucci was lovely, as always, but then, he's Stanley Friggin' Tucci. So please keep in mind that nothing I say in the rest of this post is intended as a reflection on either of them. I thought they were great.
In general, though, I thought the film was crap. Sorry, the script was crap. Or maybe they just performed it crappily. Or maybe I just don't have a strong enough sense of disbelief to think that there is a world wherein this woman is considered fat and ugly. Oh no! They put a frumpy sweater on her and teased the bottom inch and a half of her hair! She's hideous! Yeah, not buyin' it. And I know that the modeling/fashion industry is really hard on the collective female self image, but I'm also not buyin' it that Ms. Hathaway is a size six. Her supposedly gorgeous coworker does not look smaller than Anne. She maybe just has smaller boobs. But she did manage to marry John Krasinsky, so good on ya, mate.
So okay, let's say that is just me and the rest of y'all are willing to buy into the plaid skirt = atrocious philosophy. Let's take a look at her relationships. She's living with a guy who has a dream of being a chef, and at the end of the film, he's moving to Boston to pursue his dreams and isn't that great? But like you observed, he begrudges her taking this annoying job at the magazine in pursuit of her dreams. Kind of a douche. And yes, she could have blown of the gala and gotten fired so she could be there for his birthday, but seriously, who is going to say to Dragon Lady boss, "I'm not going to go to this fabulous event where I get to wear amazing clothes and meet people who can further my career because my boyfriend will get pouty if I miss his birthday dinner?" Who does that? Yes, it is an option, but not an option that any career motivated-type person is going to take. Especially since we see at the beginning of the film that this is the only job she's even gotten an interview for since graduation. Has Boyfriend forgotten that if she loses her job, she also loses her paycheck? Which I'm guessing has to be a pretty decent size, considering how much she was able to turn her wardrobe around in such a short amount of time. Because really, do we honestly believe that Stanley Tucci is dressing her out of the sample closet every morning when she's too much of a cow to fit into anything they have back there in the first place? So yeah, you're right. Boyfriend is a douche. And your friend is also kind of right - we don't really see her being subservient to him, but she does come home with a cupcake and an apology which he refuses to take. I was waiting for her to scream, "I just passed up an opportunity to schmooze with the Editor-in-Chief of The New Yorker so I could bring you this sad little cupcake and you're pissed at me?" I would have. Or at least I'd like to think I would have. But yeah. He owes her an apology for being completely non-supportive of anything she does, except when she brings him free crap from work. But instead, she apologizes for REALLY NOT CHANGING AT ALL.
That's right. I said it. I don't see her change at all. Except her wardrobe. At the beginning, she's a strong, confident woman who is extraordinarily nice to everyone, whether they deserve it or not. At the end, she's a strong confident woman who is extraordinarily nice to everyone, whether they deserve it or not, who dresses better. At no point in the film does she become a conniving bitch, even though she is made to think she is. Which brings me to the next two relationships that don't make any sense in this film.
Her best friend. Otherwise known as "the only non-Caucasian person in the film." Look at how diverse we are! One second, she's in love with Ms. Hathaway's character because she just received a really expensive, impossible to find, one of a kind handbag for free. FOR FREE. And not ten seconds later, she's pissed that Ms. Hathaway "slights" her to answer a call from her boss. Who was the provider of the beautiful free bag in the first place. Hello! If she doesn't take the call from her boss, and jump every time her boss tells her to, she doesn't get all the pretty pretty swag which she then gives to you. That scene might have made more sense if as Anne was walking out the door, the friend said, "Take your stupid bag with you. I'd rather have dinner with my friend." But no, she sits clutching the bag like it's her precious, scowling at the person who just gave it to her. And then we flash to a few nights later when Anne shows up to her friend's art show. Anne's being supportive! Which none of her friends have bothered to be of her, but she's there. And the friend witnesses a kiss on the cheek between Anne and an "unknown gentleman" and all of a sudden, Anne isn't the person she knew anymore? What? They weren't making out. They were talking and he kissed her goodbye the way you'd kiss your grandmother goodbye. Hell, I'm willing to bet that 85% of the people in the fashion industry say goodbye that way. But without even letting her get a word out, bam! They're not friends anymore. No thank you for the bag, but I'm keeping it anyway.
And then, the relationship with the coworker across the corridor. Who is horrible to Anne through the entire movie. Seriously, she never does one nice thing for her. Makes fun of her to her face. Tells her to shut up and go away when she tries to make small talk. Is a selfish, self-centered bitch. And Anne, for some unknown reason, feels this devotion to her, as if she owed her something. This person has never been nice to you. There is no indication that this person will ever be nice to you. You do not have to feel guilty for doing a better job at work than she does. This is the straw that supposedly breaks her at the end of the film - she "took" the trip to Paris away from Emily. Except no, she didn't. She worked harder and proved herself to be more reliable (and less germ-ridden and less on-crutches-after-being-hit-by-a-car), and she was rewarded for that. Sure, she could have turned it down, but first of all, who would turn down a promotion for a co-worker who treats you like shit, and secondly, there was no guarantee that Emily would have gone to Paris if Anne hadn't. Meryl says that she wants to take the best team with her to Fashion Week and that no longer includes Emily. Which, to me, sounds more like Emily screwed herself out of a trip to Paris than anything sneaky and conniving that Anne did. Especially since Anne does nothing sneaky and conniving in the entire film.
And just because I have a little bit of a rant left in me, her relationship with Stanley Tucci's character. He's marvelous. The more I see of him, the more I like him. But he's not exactly welcoming of her when she joins the company. He, too, calls her fat and makes fun of her clothes. So she goes to him when she's having a bad day and needs advice? What? When did they become friends? Yes, they become friends later in the film, after she lets him play with her wardrobe, but that's kind of random and needy, don't you think? If anyone in the film had the right to be irked by her behavior, it was him. And he was not. He grew to love her and find her charming and delightful. So why don't any of her friends love her and find her charming and delightful?
And why does she take the non-supportive boyfriend back at the end of the film? Because as much as she wants to be the strong, powerful woman who knows what she wants, she is most comfortable in abusive relationships. It's the only explanation, really. It explains why she chose those friends in the first place. It explains why she didn't walk away from that job a half-dozen times. It explains why it becomes so important to her to impress Meryl. It explains why she feels some twisted loyalty to Emily. She may be a good writer, and she may be a beautiful woman. But from where I was sitting, I saw a woman who has some really screwed up ideas of what relationships are supposed to be, so it really was no surprise that after everyone has beaten her down through the entire film, she goes crawling back to her bum of a boyfriend (who she will probably leave New York for) under the guises of "this is my choice." If you really wanted to choose something good for yourself, a happy life for yourself, you would choose to get rid of all of the abusive relationships in it, not just quit your job. And she didn't even use the connections she made in the craptastic job! Not really. She interviews at the end for "The New York Mirror." She supposedly just "sold her soul" to get a credit on her resume that would take her anywhere so she "chooses" to go to Sheboygan? Really? If you can do anything, you're going to write for a paper nobody reads? Okay. Sure. This is a film about feminism and female power and choosing the life you lead. I can't wait to show this to my daughters to teach them to work extremely hard and be extremely nice so they can settle for eighth best and call it a "choice."
And I suppose I now sound like the Meryl Streep character. Oh well.
I'm sorry. I was supposed to be answering a question, but instead I'm ripping on a film. In short, no, the boyfriend is not a good guy. I was kind of sickened when she went back to him at the end. I would prefer a guy like your friend has, who would listen to me and buy me ice cream and walk my dog (if I had one). I think your friend, though, may have been equating your thoughts on the boyfriend in the film to her boyfriend in real life. Because we also need to mention the other romantic interest in the film (the guy with too much product in his hair), who is probably like the "powerful partner filled with money and excitement" that your friend gave up looking for. Which she probably took to mean you meant she wound up with the boyfriend from the film, who you were calling a douche, ergo, you were calling her boyfriend a douche. Which is why she is upset with you. Go apologize to your friend. And then go watch a good movie, where the lead character goes on a journey somewhere more interesting than to the mall.
Thank you, J.H. for your question! Keep 'em coming, guys! askmisskittyanything@gmail.com
Wednesday, December 8, 2010
Potty Time Santa
J.R. asks, "Where does Santa pee on Christmas Eve, on his round the world circuit?"
That's actually a really good question, J.R., and there are a couple of theories on that. See, nobody has ever thought to ask him. Sure, you hear the random story about some kid seeing his mom make out with Santa, or some guy who happens to see Santa do his thing and then gets a personal "Merry Christmas" out of him, but in all of these encounters, does anyone ever think to ask Santa if he need to pop into the loo? No, they don't. Most of them don't even bother to say, "Thanks for the gifts, and for squishing your innards to get them to us," because if you know anything about the physics of Santa, you know he is traveling at approximately 650 miles per second, which subjects him to centrifugal forces 17,500.06 times greater than gravity. If that doesn't squish your innards, I don't know what will.
So there are a couple of theories on where Santa might take a pit stop if he needs one.
The first is that he is visiting millions of homes with large, bushy trees in them. Much better than using the trees outside, I must say, mostly because it can get cold outside which can make the mechanics of the deed tricky. This also explains why people are usually pretty quick to get rid of their trees once Christmas is over, and it is a pretty good, solid argument for real trees vs. fake trees.
The second, which is one I hold very dear, is that he uses whatever household restroom he needs to. Hell, we all leave cookies and milk out for him, so why not help himself to the toilet as well? In my house, this led to the tradition of the Christmas Morning Toilet Scrub, where we would gather around the toilet with our brand new scrubbing brushes and toilet bowl cleaner that smelled of gingerbread and get rid of any traces of the Santa who had also stopped at goodness knows how many other toilets around the world that were not nearly as sparkling clean and disease-free as ours. Good times. Good times.
And the third theory takes us back to the whole physics thing mentioned earlier. See, if a person is traveling at 650 miles per second, and is subjected to 17,500.06 times the force of gravity, one needs EXTRAORDINARY amounts of energy to withstand that. It's like when they're teaching pilots to withstand Mach 3 speeds and they tell them to clench down as tight as they can. Times 5,833. So Santa is burning up a LOT of calories on his journey around the world (not alot 'cuz that's something totally different), and all he gets to eat along the way is cookies and milk. In short, Santa gets dangerously dehydrated on his trip around the world and as such, he doesn't need to pee. Why do you think he does this only once a year? You'd think a guy as benevolent as Santa would be making appearances at charity functions and whatnot throughout the year to keep on giving. And why do you think he's always pictured as fat? He needs to build up some padding because he's going to burn through all of it on his journey around the world. No, Santa doesn't need to pee on his journey around the world because he is subjecting himself to the most brutal test of physical endurance ever imagined by human or superhuman being. Even worse than bicycle bog snorkeling. And then he has to take the following year to rest, recover, and prepare to do it all over again.
So may I recommend that this year, you leave out, say, a pot roast for Santa instead of the usual milk and cookies? Dude could use some protein.
Thank you, J.R. for your question. Keep 'em coming, guys! askmisskittyanything@gmail.com
That's actually a really good question, J.R., and there are a couple of theories on that. See, nobody has ever thought to ask him. Sure, you hear the random story about some kid seeing his mom make out with Santa, or some guy who happens to see Santa do his thing and then gets a personal "Merry Christmas" out of him, but in all of these encounters, does anyone ever think to ask Santa if he need to pop into the loo? No, they don't. Most of them don't even bother to say, "Thanks for the gifts, and for squishing your innards to get them to us," because if you know anything about the physics of Santa, you know he is traveling at approximately 650 miles per second, which subjects him to centrifugal forces 17,500.06 times greater than gravity. If that doesn't squish your innards, I don't know what will.
So there are a couple of theories on where Santa might take a pit stop if he needs one.
The first is that he is visiting millions of homes with large, bushy trees in them. Much better than using the trees outside, I must say, mostly because it can get cold outside which can make the mechanics of the deed tricky. This also explains why people are usually pretty quick to get rid of their trees once Christmas is over, and it is a pretty good, solid argument for real trees vs. fake trees.
The second, which is one I hold very dear, is that he uses whatever household restroom he needs to. Hell, we all leave cookies and milk out for him, so why not help himself to the toilet as well? In my house, this led to the tradition of the Christmas Morning Toilet Scrub, where we would gather around the toilet with our brand new scrubbing brushes and toilet bowl cleaner that smelled of gingerbread and get rid of any traces of the Santa who had also stopped at goodness knows how many other toilets around the world that were not nearly as sparkling clean and disease-free as ours. Good times. Good times.
And the third theory takes us back to the whole physics thing mentioned earlier. See, if a person is traveling at 650 miles per second, and is subjected to 17,500.06 times the force of gravity, one needs EXTRAORDINARY amounts of energy to withstand that. It's like when they're teaching pilots to withstand Mach 3 speeds and they tell them to clench down as tight as they can. Times 5,833. So Santa is burning up a LOT of calories on his journey around the world (not alot 'cuz that's something totally different), and all he gets to eat along the way is cookies and milk. In short, Santa gets dangerously dehydrated on his trip around the world and as such, he doesn't need to pee. Why do you think he does this only once a year? You'd think a guy as benevolent as Santa would be making appearances at charity functions and whatnot throughout the year to keep on giving. And why do you think he's always pictured as fat? He needs to build up some padding because he's going to burn through all of it on his journey around the world. No, Santa doesn't need to pee on his journey around the world because he is subjecting himself to the most brutal test of physical endurance ever imagined by human or superhuman being. Even worse than bicycle bog snorkeling. And then he has to take the following year to rest, recover, and prepare to do it all over again.
So may I recommend that this year, you leave out, say, a pot roast for Santa instead of the usual milk and cookies? Dude could use some protein.
Thank you, J.R. for your question. Keep 'em coming, guys! askmisskittyanything@gmail.com
Tuesday, December 7, 2010
Glamour
C.H. asks, "Miss Kitty,
I simply can not remain quiet about this a moment longer. I am a longtime reader of the periodical 'Glamour,' ever since my early days of pouncing on the latest issue in the late '80's as it came available each glorious month in my junior high school library. Unlike those who 'pooh-pooh' this magnificent mag for serving the misogynistic beauty industry or criticize it for merely recycling the same articles every few years or so, I am a dedicated fan. Imagine then, my shock and outrage at seeing the December 2010 issue of Glamour exclusive 'A Very Vampire Christmas: A steamy original short story from the woman behind True Blood' nestled shamelessly among such high quality fare as '9 Naughty Things Even Nice Guys Crave in Bed' and 'Dips! Drinks! Dessert! Eat all the Good Stuff and still Stay Slim!'
I simply loathe all of this 'Team Edmund/Team Franklin' vampire/werewolf fantasy nonsense. And as for gauche Jersey Girl Snookie Stackhouse and her shenanigans, the less attention paid the better as far as I'm concerned. Let popular culture stay where it is! In the gutter where it belongs! Is the print media seriously in that dire of straights that my beloved Glamour must pander and lower itself to be yet another outlet for..., for..., vampire pornography?
Is this indeed the end of times the Mayans warned us about?
C.H."
I think you're a little confused, C.H. Glamour is not the magazine people read "for the articles." That's Playboy. But beyond that, let's take a look at some of the vampire confusion that is going on in your question.
True Blood is based on The Southern Vampire Mysteries and follows the story of Sookie Stackhouse as she falls in love with a vampire named Bill Compton. In Louisana. Not New Jersey. It is based on the premise that vampires have been "outed" in our society and live somewhat in harmony with humans. "Tru Blood" is a beverage that was created for vampires to be able to survive without killing people. I've see the first couple of seasons and it's actually a decent show, if you can get over Anna Paquin's accent. Then again, I tend to like things written by Alan Ball. But the important thing to remember about this show is that being a vampire (or shape shifter or random supernatural being of another sort) isn't all that odd. It's like everyone has something going on and with vampires walking around freely (at night, anyway), it's really not that big of a deal.
The whole Edward vs. Jacob thing (sadly not Edmund vs. Franklin - who are Edmund and Franklin anyway? Are we talking some sort of Battle of the Founding Fathers? 'Cuz that would actually kind of rock) is from the Twilight series, which is the angsty tween version of the vampire story. I've not read the books nor seen the movies, so I'm basing my opinions solely on what I've seen the press and they look...angsty to me. Like the focal point of the story is always, "Is the completely gorgeous but somehow misunderstood and therefore socially ostracized teenage girl going to give herself to the 6,000 year old vampire or the really hot werewolf dude and since they both love her, can't they all just get along?" Like the Hatfields and the McCoys, but with vampires and werewolves. And teenage drama. Involving a vampire who is really not a teenager anymore. Really not. I can understand your frustration in having to deal with this series because frankly, I'm sick of it too, and I like vampire crap.
The Jersey Girl Snooki is a hot mess and needs to go away.
Now that we have that all straight, we can chat about the state of print media. Yes, it is in dire straights (not to be confused with Dire Straits). How many times a day do you go to Glamour.com instead of picking up your magazine and reading it? This is why magazines now have between 50 and 3,000 pages of ads at the beginning, before you even get to the table of contents. They need to make money somehow. But even the advertising companies are starting to pull out because it is cheaper to advertise online, so the magazines need to try to increase their readership somehow. And if that means jumping on the vampire bandwagon, be glad it is a short story from the woman behind True Blood, and not The Meaning of Christmas as it Applies to The Vampire Diaries. Because that would be truly sad.
Thank you, C.H. for your question! Keep 'em coming, guys! askmisskittyanything@gmail.com
I simply can not remain quiet about this a moment longer. I am a longtime reader of the periodical 'Glamour,' ever since my early days of pouncing on the latest issue in the late '80's as it came available each glorious month in my junior high school library. Unlike those who 'pooh-pooh' this magnificent mag for serving the misogynistic beauty industry or criticize it for merely recycling the same articles every few years or so, I am a dedicated fan. Imagine then, my shock and outrage at seeing the December 2010 issue of Glamour exclusive 'A Very Vampire Christmas: A steamy original short story from the woman behind True Blood' nestled shamelessly among such high quality fare as '9 Naughty Things Even Nice Guys Crave in Bed' and 'Dips! Drinks! Dessert! Eat all the Good Stuff and still Stay Slim!'
I simply loathe all of this 'Team Edmund/Team Franklin' vampire/werewolf fantasy nonsense. And as for gauche Jersey Girl Snookie Stackhouse and her shenanigans, the less attention paid the better as far as I'm concerned. Let popular culture stay where it is! In the gutter where it belongs! Is the print media seriously in that dire of straights that my beloved Glamour must pander and lower itself to be yet another outlet for..., for..., vampire pornography?
Is this indeed the end of times the Mayans warned us about?
C.H."
I think you're a little confused, C.H. Glamour is not the magazine people read "for the articles." That's Playboy. But beyond that, let's take a look at some of the vampire confusion that is going on in your question.
True Blood is based on The Southern Vampire Mysteries and follows the story of Sookie Stackhouse as she falls in love with a vampire named Bill Compton. In Louisana. Not New Jersey. It is based on the premise that vampires have been "outed" in our society and live somewhat in harmony with humans. "Tru Blood" is a beverage that was created for vampires to be able to survive without killing people. I've see the first couple of seasons and it's actually a decent show, if you can get over Anna Paquin's accent. Then again, I tend to like things written by Alan Ball. But the important thing to remember about this show is that being a vampire (or shape shifter or random supernatural being of another sort) isn't all that odd. It's like everyone has something going on and with vampires walking around freely (at night, anyway), it's really not that big of a deal.
The whole Edward vs. Jacob thing (sadly not Edmund vs. Franklin - who are Edmund and Franklin anyway? Are we talking some sort of Battle of the Founding Fathers? 'Cuz that would actually kind of rock) is from the Twilight series, which is the angsty tween version of the vampire story. I've not read the books nor seen the movies, so I'm basing my opinions solely on what I've seen the press and they look...angsty to me. Like the focal point of the story is always, "Is the completely gorgeous but somehow misunderstood and therefore socially ostracized teenage girl going to give herself to the 6,000 year old vampire or the really hot werewolf dude and since they both love her, can't they all just get along?" Like the Hatfields and the McCoys, but with vampires and werewolves. And teenage drama. Involving a vampire who is really not a teenager anymore. Really not. I can understand your frustration in having to deal with this series because frankly, I'm sick of it too, and I like vampire crap.
The Jersey Girl Snooki is a hot mess and needs to go away.
Now that we have that all straight, we can chat about the state of print media. Yes, it is in dire straights (not to be confused with Dire Straits). How many times a day do you go to Glamour.com instead of picking up your magazine and reading it? This is why magazines now have between 50 and 3,000 pages of ads at the beginning, before you even get to the table of contents. They need to make money somehow. But even the advertising companies are starting to pull out because it is cheaper to advertise online, so the magazines need to try to increase their readership somehow. And if that means jumping on the vampire bandwagon, be glad it is a short story from the woman behind True Blood, and not The Meaning of Christmas as it Applies to The Vampire Diaries. Because that would be truly sad.
Thank you, C.H. for your question! Keep 'em coming, guys! askmisskittyanything@gmail.com
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