Me+1+1+1=All 4 One

4/9/2012

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  It's because to them you're the most beautiful girl in the room.  The one and only... The girl of their dreams. Their calendar girl.  You can call me crazy and even though it may be true, I love boy bands.  There is something special about the way that formula works.  There's a lid for every pot. An object for every affection.  The quirky one, the sensitive one, the bad boy, the tough one, the brainy one.  Whatever your flavour of the week, there's a boy just for you.  They are the neapolitan of music- chocolate, vanilla or strawberry... Why choose when you can have all 3?!?!
   If I think back far enough, I remember NKOTB then BSB then N*Sync now One Direction, with some Take That, Boyz II Men and All 4 One sprinkled in for flava.  How deep was my love, you might ask? Well, it's truly, madly, deeply the most predictable love of all.  I know, I know, it's not COOL to love boy bands with their pop music and choreo-dance moves, their cheesy lyrics or their manufactured sound, but I'd be the first person to tell you, I'm not cool.  It's possible that I might be the reason they exist. I am a 30 year old married woman who still goes gooey when 5 teenage-looking boys harmonize about how lovely I am... Well, I think they're talking to me...
  The boy band is not a new phenomenon.  It's been happening since screaming young women could buy an LP or Cassette tape or CD or MP3 or a special release collection from iTunes.  It's been happening since Beatle-mania- it's been happening since music began.  There will always be a special place on the Billboard charts for the boy band, though for one reason or another they'll never be taken seriously as musicians, unless they live in a Yellow Submarine...  No matter how involved boy bands are in the writing and production of their music, they remain judged by the rest of music-land and post-pubescent society as lame.  Like being a boy band with a squeaky clean-teeny-bopper image is a bad thing.  Teaching our girls that it's better to what? Chris Brown that shit? or get busted for drinking and driving?  Wouldn't it be better if we encouraged our girls to daydream about things a little less violent and legally limited?  It doesn't seem like a big deal... But instead, we want them to grow up- stop listening to that bubblegum?  But I love bubblegum and I am double-mint-serious.
  In a perfect world, the boy band would be celebrated by more than the screaming fans holding out hope that someday, if I could just meet Joe, I know he would fall in love with me... Cause he's the young one, and we're closest in age.  I mean that makes sense...right? To be screaming from the top row of the Skydome taking flash photos of tiny dancing shapes on a pyrotechnic stage! You'd love me if you met me....I believe in our love, Joe.  I know it borders on creepy-stalker when I talk like that, but there's just something about being an awkward girl growing up awkwardly, being worried that no one will love you the way you are and having a boy band look right down the barrel and tell you: "You are the most beautiful girl in the world." and even if it's not true, I believe it anyway.
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You put your fifth chin in, you put your fifth chin out and you shake it all about

3/13/2012

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  Shall we disgust the topic of Morbid Obesity?  Yes, I think we shall.  Where to begin? 

The morbidly obese of the world are a sensory overload, with bodies that look like a train wreck, smell so strongly like a rotten Iron Chef episode you can taste it, the laborious wheezing after any kind of physical activity, the touch of their sweaty chocolate coated hands leaving marks on handrails and my sixth sense telling me that I don't think the human body was designed to carry that much extra, we could call it fat, but I think I'll just call it human jellyroll filling, cause it's the same gooey red stuff.

Now, all grossness aside, I don't understand how Really Really fat people, people who would benefit from walking or even standing get a motorized scooter.  That's like saying "Well Jackie boy, you made a lot of bad decisions, ate yourself into a new handicap parking space, a shiny set of wheels, and you've developed type 2 Diabetes because you drink modified corn sirop. Congratulations!" Cue the confetti, marching band and balloons, oh wait this isn't a celebration it's an abomination.  Attn: Scooter riders going the posted street speed limit on the sidewalk is not acceptable, heaven forbid I be strolling, as they pass me, shrieking for to "get out of the way" or "move it".  It would have been great to have some of that need for speed before they became an angry scooter-bound manic.  I think these scooters of the dumpy-damned should be calibrated to travel no faster than a brisk walking pace, agreed? That would make sense, unless, as a motorized vehicle they should be on the road... Oh, it's almost Darwinian* insert greedy hand rubbing 

And since when did being a jerk become a prerequisite to being beyond fat?  I mean it used to be called pleasantly plump for crying out loud. What happened to all the sweet super-fatties, who used to compensate for their outward appearance with their inner beauty? (Science debates inner beauty as a non-quantifiable entity) Of all the world's dying breeds, I miss the pleasantly plump the most.  They were a group I once counted myself in, but there are too many reflective surfaces in this city and I am a dedicated student of vanity. Although I wouldn't mind a free scooter and I love jellyrolls...it's food for thought.
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