Archive for the ‘I Hearts Arts’ Category

The is an ad to get folks to 'Like" my Facebook fan page.

Here in the apprehensive offices of The Crusty Curmudgeon, we’re getting ready for a new move. That’s right. We’re packing up and moving.  Although we’ll still be at the same link, TheCrustyCurmudgeon.com, it is now pointed to somewhere else entirely. To our own site on our own server.

Even now, we are loading articles one, two, three a day to the new site. These old posts will remain here too–if you happen to get a link that has the word “wordpress” in it, but you won’t see any new material unless you go to the other link…once I start adding new stuff, that is.

We’ve also created a Facebook fan page at this great URL: facebook.com/CrustyCurmudgeon. I’m working on that page right now too, even though it’s exactly 1am in Crustyville.  I’m trying to create a landing page on which you will see one image if you’re a non-fan, and another image if you have  already pressed “Like.”

This is what you'll see if you're already a fan of the Facebook fan page.

This will appear on the non-fan landing page, along with some other stuff.

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Lindsey Lohan as Gun-Licking Nun in "Machete"

Here in the pop culture conscious offices of The Crusty Curmudgeon, we have written of Lindsey Lohan before.  In fact, I may have promised never to write of her again, and yet here I am, with another Lindsey Lohan post.  It’s just that she keeps making such bad decisions.  While in some ways I agree she has a right to live her life as she chooses, I nevertheless must question her judgment at times (many, many times, apparently).

Buried deep in the bowels of the website for her new film, “Machete,” resides the picture which is creating quite a stir.  Of course, all pictures of nuns

Alecia Rachael Marek. No slouch in the looks department

licking guns do, as they are some Catholic school boy’s twisted fantasy.  In the film, Lohan plays a gun toting & licking avenger called ‘the sister.’  Just days after her sentence of jail for violating her probation, the films trailer was released with Lohan missing.  Her name does appear in the credits however.

Early sneak reports say she appears topless while gallivanting  in a waterfall with Alicia Rachel Marek, the actress who plays her mother.  Well I’ll be

diggity dogged, my Catholic school boy fantasies are working overtime.  Rachael is no slouch herself in the looks department as you can see.

The Robert Rodriguez’s film also stars Jessica Alba (holy cow, there’s three of them!), and Robert DeNiro,  Now that’s a cast that offers everything.  Poor Lindsey was sentenced to 90 days followed by 90 days inpatient drug rehab for

Lohan breaks into tears at sentencing

violating her probation on a previous DUI.  She broke into tears on pronouncement of the sentence, and must report on July 20th at 8:30 AM to begin serving her time on the rock pile.

I hope for her sake the rehab takes this time.  She’s got a lot to lose, and it’s something of a miracle that people are still giving her a chance.  I don’t know if I would be so generous…

Unless of course she did a topless scene in a waterfall with Alicia Rachel Marek.

(Information for this story came from Pop Eater.)

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herbie printHere in he tipsy but not inebriated offices of the Curmudgeon, we are no stranger to hangovers.  Right now, we imagine Lindsay Lohan has a big one.  Firstly, I have often growled to the staff here that “It will be a cold day in hell before we write about Lohan,” so put on your overcoats and mittens as we join Lindsay on her fun-filled career spiral downtown.

Lindsay Lohan - A wreck about to happen.

Lindsay Lohan - A wreck about to happen.

When “The Hangover” script made the rounds in Hollywood, some saw it’s potential as a big film.  Lohan’s agents was one of them, and he campaigned for Lohan to get the role of the stripper ‘Jade’.  “The Hangover” director Todd Phillips was not enthused by the prospect, but the mutual agent, being a good one apparently – down boy, down – didn’t give up.  He hemmed and hawed and cajoled and sent the director a stripper in a cake for all I know, until director Phillips finally agreed.

So, triumphantly, the agent presents the script to Lohan who, full of gratitude for getting her such a great part in such a great film when hardly anybody else will touch her, said to the agent, no.  Whaaaa?????  She didn’t see the film’s potential and she just didn’t like the script.  After all, this was no  Herbie Goes Homo.

Instead Lohan opted to do “Labor Pains,” a straight to DVD dog, while “The Hangover” is a bonerfide boffo box office bonanza.  Probably thanks in large part to Lohan not being in it.  Instead the role went to Heather Graham.  And the Curmudgeon loves him some Heather Graham crackers.

We like Heather Graham crackers!

We like Heather Graham crackers!

I am happy to see Lohan fading away.  I’m sick of her dramatics.  Graham on the other hand, is a delight in every way.  She is so special I think she was made by Keebler elves.

To further view Lohan’s drive into oblivion, check out her movie next summer:  Herbie Goes To Hell in a Handbasket.

(With apologies for use of “Homo.”  I, in no way, mean to disparage homosexuals.  People should be free to make their own choices.  Long live tolerance!)

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Lesbian Kiss by PORKON666/Photobucket

Lesbian Kiss by PORKON666/Photobucket

Here in the progressive offices of The Curmudgeon, we are tolerant of other people’s sexual proclivities but we’re not exactly activists.  “To each his own” is our motto.  Live and let live.  If you’re not hurting others, then you’re not hurting me, etc. etc.  We write about modern culture and those who affect it but we do not judge (Ok, that’s not true but it sounds good.)  That being said, I have just read this absurdity which makes me want to stick my nose in somebody’s business.  They’re hurting me now.  What are they hurting exactly?  They are hurting my fantasy of Kate Perry kissing a girl.  That’s what.  And that makes me angry.

attitude_180Ditto Plus Kate Makes Hate

Beth Ditto said in Attitude magazine (hmmm, wonder what that magazine is about?)  “I hate Katy Perry! [She’s one of those] straight girls who like to turn guys on by … faking gay.”  She went on to say “’I Kissed A Girl’ is a Boner dyke anthem for straight girls who like to turn guys on by making out or, like, faking gay,” adding that, “She’s [Perry] just riding on the backs of our culture, without having to pay any of the dues and not being actually lesbian or anything at all.”  You mean that actually happens?  Two straight girls kiss and it turns hetero guys on?  Get out!

kate perryI have to admit, all I know of Kate Perry is she’s cute and she recorded the song, “I Kissed a Girl.”  I never heard of Ditto, so I looked up her picture.  EGAD!

It’s all making sense now.  Ditto is a seriously unattractive thing, not only physically, but as a person.  I actually have difficulty looking at her. When I first saw her picture, I thought it was a picture of Devine, the transvestite late actor famous from Jon Waters’ films.  You, Ditto, have turned to lesbianism because no man will have you.  There isn’t enough flour to roll you around in before having sex.  That’s an old joke. Figuring out the punch line is up to you.

Kate Perry 3She Kissed A Girl & I Liked It

You accuse Perry of riding on the backs of (your) culture?  Well you certainly couldn’t ride on her back…you’d crush her, but as has been established, her culture wouldn’t have you.  But yours would have her.  It would have her good.  It would have her six ways till Sunday.  That pisses you off.  And that’s why you have opened your gaping maw in the first place.

Kate Perry 2And you hate her? Seriously?  Exactly which culture’s back are you riding on?  It’s OK to be gay, but lesbians don’t have “dibs” on kissing other women.  If a straight girl wants to kiss another girl – whether or not it turns guys on is immaterial – then that is their right, but you would deny others their rights while espousing your own.  Shame on you, Jabba.

You should shut your pie hole and waddle your porcine self back into the closet.  You can come back out when you learn how to play nice.

(TOP PHOTO: Lesbian Kiss by PORKON666, Photobucket)

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"Shame" - Propaganda sighn in China, Joe Gatling/flickr

"Shame" - Propaganda sign in China, Joe Gatling/flickr

Here in the sexually liberated but not wanton offices of The Curmudgeon, my day has begun as usual, sitting at my expansive desk with a cup of coffee (Ok, it’s more like a pot) and surfing your Internet world for something I can sink my teeth into, much as a vampire sinks his teeth into the juicy neck of a red-blooded American woman…or Latin or French or British or Dutch or German or…well, a hawt chick.  And I come across this fleshy piece at the site, Pop Eater:  Robert Pattinson’s Walk of Shame From Co-Star’s Hotel?

Pattinson     Shame, shame, shame

Pattinson Shame, shame, shame

The story is that Pattinson and co-star Kristen Stewart were staying in the same hotel for the MTV awards, where they were big winners, by the way, and one of those stalking paparazzi people snaps a pic of Pattinson leaving in the morning looking disheveled.  There were also some blurry pics taken of him struggling to get his stuff into a car while she waited, hiding behind sunglasses.  Then there appeared to be a brief kiss before he got in the SUV and drove away.  Romance rumors have dogged them since the first movie, and as someone who has spent many, many years in show business as an actor, lets just say you can become very close with the person you are playing a love scene with everyday.

I was taken aback.  I was confused.  Discombobulated.  The room began spinning as I tried to make sense of the thing.  It wasn’t their possible hooking up that had my head swimming.  It was this: “Walk of Shame.”  Walk of…what?   Shame?  I don’t understand.  Is Kristen like an ugly fat chick or something?  Let me just pull up a picture of her and check this out…

Kristen Sterart    She looks OK to me

Kristen Sterart She looks OK to me

Ummm…shame my ass.  They should have said he came out of the hotel “doing the stud walk.”  The walk of glory.  The look-at-me-I-porked-Kristen-Stewart-and-you-didn’t walk of “game.”  Hey, it’s OK if you want to know if they were making “the beast with two backs,” or “bouncing the bones,” or whatever you want to call it, but don’t be calling it the walk of shame.  That’s the only shameful thing around here.  That two attractive people can’t do what consenting adults do without being dragged to the front of Grauman’s Chinese Theater for a public stoning.

So put your stones back in your little bag, go home, and watch your DVD copy of Twilight…again.

As Pink Floyd said:  Hey!  Teacher!  Leave those kids alone!

Shameless Self-Promotion:  If you like hot vampire stories, check out this vampire love scene I wrote, but be warned, it is HOT.  Click here for some sexy vampire fun!

#1 (Photo Credit:  Shame, Joe Gatling, flickr, Layout by thecrustycurmudgeon)

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Flying Pigs by Icefire/Denmark

Flying Pigs by Icefire/Denmark

Here in the cheeky but not insolent, saucy but not impertinent, M&M eating but not Eminem loving offices of The Crusty Curmudgeon,we are digging the bru-ha-ha over (Bruno) Sasha Baron Cohen’’s “junk” in Eminem’s face. Talk about giving somebody shit. The video was yanked last night by Viacom – since is Internet popularity zoomed into the serious money realm – but for some reason has reappeared today.  I have no idea if this video will remain “on the air” or not.  THE ANSWER IS “NOT.”  THE VIDEO HAS BEEN REMOVED AGAIN BY VIACOM. WRITE YOUR CONGRESSMAN TODAY TO STOP THIS OUTRAGE!    Ok.  Well.  It’s back on again.  We are playing cat and gerbil.  There is some speculation on whether Eminem was in on the gag (Ok, with a guys “junk” in my face, I would be gagging too) or was he really surprised and pissed?

Bruno's butt in Eminem's face.

Bruno's butt in Eminem's face.

The game is afoot, Watson.  But before we begin, let us look at the facts:  Sacha Baron Cohen flew over the audience connected to a wire playing a flamboyant character “Bruno.”   He wore some large, fluffy white wings and his butt was, for all practical purposes, exposed.   I’m talkin’ he was showing his naked, hairy ass.   He then crashes into something up there amongst the lights, and  is lowered headfirst right into Eminem’s lap with his bare butt in the rappers mug.

Then Cohen said, “Is the real Slim Shady about to stand up?”  Eminem seemed visibly pissed off, and dudes in his entourage started pushing Cohen around trying to get the rapper out from the evil clutches of Bruno’s buns.

Finally, with Eminem set free from his apparently homophobic freak-out (now I have to give this one to Slim, caused I’d be grossed out too – but at least I like to think I’d be laughing about it) and “Bruno” swinging around like a pinata, the rap-head storms out with his entourage in tow (oh when, when am I gonna get an entourage?) You’re asking yourself, “So where’s the evidence, Sherlock?”

Elementary, my dear Watson.   While the audience was included in the rehearsals, Eminem was not present.   Isn’t that convenient?  Then as he storms out, it sound as though he is wearing a mic.  So why is he miked?  Furthermore, the cameras were in position to record Slim’s hasty exit.  In other words, they were ready for him to leave, you know, like a cue from the control room:  “...and camera 3…Go…stand by camera 2 and….Go.

Eminem didn’t return. Maybe he and his entourage of big black dudes went to his place and were on the “down low.”  So the question has been raised, was he punked or were you pooped on?  Matthew Labov, Sasha Baron’s publicist said “no comment” when reached after the show.  When asked whether the rapper was caught by surprise, and MTV spokeswoman would neither confirm nor deny.  And finally, Eminem isn’t returning phone calls.  So you tell me: Is it real, or is it Memorex?

When you write this in your journal, Watson, call it, The Case of Bruno’s Buns.”

And those are the crusty facts.  The moral of the story is don’t trust angel wing-wearing guys named Bruno who have their butt hanging out.  They only want to stick it in your face.

Will we ever find out the truth?   When pigs fly out of Bruno’s butt.

HOT OFF THE PRESSES: This just in.  Just reported by seattllepi.com, there’s “No Butts About It: MTV’s Eminem-Bruno Stunt Was Staged.” Here’s the excerpt:

This much is for certain: Cohen’s “Bruno” alter ego landing in Eminem’s lap was a prearranged stunt. “There’s no way it was an accident,” an industry insider who was seated a few rows in front of Eminem tells TVGuide.com. “You don’t let two stars collide without a detailed plan.”  For starters, Bruno’s airborne entrance was purposely detoured by speakers that were lowered into his path during the previous commercial break. That bit of equipment manipulation — coupled with the director’s cut to Eminem several seconds before Bruno’s “fall” — is what our spy calls “the smoking gun.

What did I tell you. The Curmudgeon Rules!

If Viacom has pulled this copy of the video, you can catch it at Rolling Stone.

(Photo Credit: Flying Pigs, Icefire/Denmark)

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The oldest known sculpture recently unearthed.

The oldest known sculpture recently unearthed.

Here in the art-filled offices of The Curmudgeon, we have placed a few tastefully erotic but not salacious objet d’art. I like to admire them during bouts of writer’s block or publisher’s rage.  During these perusals I have often wondered exactly when modern man’s and women’s obsession with sex and the human body – specifically women’s bodies –  began.   Now, according to University of Tuebingen archaeologist Nicholas Conard, it was at least as long as 35,000 years ago.

35,000 years is a long time, which I think qualifies the obsession as more than just a fad, and as far as I know, it didn’t began because of the sexual content they showed on television back then as many would blame for all of society’s ills nowadays.  If I may go on a brief tangent, I like sex on television, and cursing, and nudity, and all that stuff that is a reflection of real life, and if you don’t like it or you don’t want your kids watching it, then get rid of your televisions, but stop trying to change the content to please you.  It’s not yours, never was, so shut your pie hole.  Where was I?  Oh yeah…caveman porn.

Yea, so Conard and his team are in the German cave called Hohle Fels, and they’re digging for stuff, you know, like archaeologists do, when they come across these six pieces that look like they fit together, which they do, and lo and behold, what they had was a “very sexually charged” statue of a woman.   “Sexually charged.”   I love that.   I wish I could plug into the wall and become “sexually charged.”   The statue, which is “the oldest known piece of figurative sculpture in the world,” depicts a woman with a swollen belly, wide-set thighs, and very large breasts which protrude.  Okay, everyone likes breasts to protrude.  Otherwise they’d be concave and that would be weird.  I can hear us now:  “Woah, Dude!  Did you see the craters on that chick?”

Of course, they found a bunch of other stuff too but who cares.  Some kind of geegaws or something.  Anyway, scientists were asked to offer suggestions as to what purpose the statue held.  Suggestions came… like it was a symbol of fertility or something and blah, blah, blah, until archaeologist Paul Mellars of the University of Cambridge, suggested a clearer purpose: “These people were obsessed with sex.”  Hey, give the professor a cigar.

So here I sit, 35,000 years later, perusing my sexually charged objet d’art, and thinking about the long continuum of time.  I can’t help but think, things aren’t so hard to explain.  Everything is hardwired.  I’m just doing what I’m supposed to be doing.

Ogling.  Ogling and dreaming.

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Cosmic Hand (by h.koppdelaney - flickr)

Cosmic Hand (by h.koppdelaney - flickr)

Here in the heavenly but not necessarily empyrean offices of The Crusty Curmudgeon, I stand (or sit, actually) before you, humbled if not exactly compunctious.  I am abashed and I do not like feeling abashed.  No, I like feeling smug and superior.  I mean, who doesn’t?  I wear smugness like a warm blanket on a cabin-chilly morning.  You are asking, “Crusty,” you say, “why are you, one who is almost always correct, feeling contrite?”  It is this:  Simply put, I have long been a naysayer of the alleged mysticism of  Astrology and now I am a believer.  (Ouch!  That hurt!)

I was never a total disbeliever in astrology, just a skeptic.  After all, there is such a thing as planetary movement, tides, strange human behavior, and a myriad of other unexplained phenomena.  Not to mention the belief in Astrology by many famous and powerful people throughout the history of the world.

Famous Followers of the Planetary Arts

Many of the rich, famous, and powerful have believed in Astrology and put it to use.  These include Plato, Albert Einstein, Ralph Waldo Emerson, Robert Heinlein, Hippocrates,  DH Lawrence, Louis Pasteur, and even Benjamin Franklin, who included Astrology in his Poor Richard Almanacs.

Henry V always had court astrologers who, if they predicted the King would sire a girl, were beheaded. Naturally, the Astrologers learned to always say the child would be a boy and if it turned out to be a girl, they were beheaded anyway.  Tough gig.  Heads did roll.  Upon hearing that Hitler employed the use of Astrologers, Winston Churchill employed one as well.  Shakespeare drew greatly on Astrology in his plays. “He would put astrological knowledge and belief into his strongest and most capable heroes and heroines, and astrological ignorance and disdain into his most devious and reviled villains.” (theastrologyroom.com).

Astrology Smacks My Gob

So, what changed my mind?  Simple.  I got a reading.  A real one from a real Astrologer, and I was amazed at its accuracy.  Stunned, really.  Gobsmacked.  It contained such depth and knowledge that I was blown into the heavens.  Not only did I get a one on one, 2 hour consultation, but a lengthy and informative chart and an analysis.  There was not one item I could deny, and it was not general either.  Very specific, and taken all together, very specific to me and me alone.  Another great thing about it was that it offered ideas on things that could develop into problems or things you should focus on for self-improvement.  Again, I found everything was on the money.

The good news is that all this – the 2 hour, one-on-one consultation; the lengthy and in-depth chart; and the personal analysis of it – cost a mere 140 Australian dollars (97.94 US dollars; 68.55 British pounds).  Even better news is you can avail yourself of my very Astrologer’s services as well.  This is surely the deal of the century thanks to the weak Australian dollar.

Let Astrology Gob Smack You

If you are interested (and you should be) I urge you to contact Julie Braden.  Please write to her at julesb555@yahoo.com. Tell her  The Crusty Curmudgeon sent you.  You wont regret it.  The initial 2 hour interview and reading is conducted via Skype, so there are no phone charges.  If you don’t have Skype, it is simple and free to set up and use to call people all over the world.  For an overview of Skype, go here.

Do this.  You owe it to your career, your business, your relationships, and yourself.  Mostly perhaps, you owe it to your future.  Don’t get me wrong.  You’re not going to be told if you’re going to get married this year or that you will meet a tall, dark handsome stranger.  I said Julie’s a real Astrologer.  If you want that kind of Astrology, read the paper or go down to the strip and hand your 50 bucks to the gypsy lady with the neon sign in her window.  This is the real stuff…not predictions.  It’s beautiful up here…in the heavens.  Join me.

(Photo Credit: “Cosmic Hand”, h.koppdelaney, flickr, http://www.flickr.com/search/?q=Astrology&l=cc&ct=0&page=2)

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Here in the satirical but not derisive offices of The Curmudgeon, I am tickled orange at the new Simpsons milestone.  Woo-hoo! By getting renewed by Fox for another 2 seasons,  The Simpsons will surpass Gunsmoke as TV’s longest running prime-time drama.  Gunsmoke, with their 20 year run, ended in 1975 and has held the record since.  The Simpsons, currently in their 20th season, will go on to at least do their 21st and 22nd.  And they don’t even have that “do-able” Miss Kitty.
It should probably be noted here that that still doesn’t even come close to the number of Gunsmoke episodes, which was an astounding 635 compared to The Simpsons paltry 493.  Like baseball pitchers, people today just don’t work as hard as they did back in the good old days when things were done for the love of it and money came second.  And like ball players, actors salaries have skyrocketed too.  The main characters on The Simpsons will now earn Mr. Burns type money of $400,000 per episode.  That’s enough to turn Homer’s “D’oh” into Dough!  I would even marry one of Marge’s sisters for that kind of green.

I, for one, think the Simpsons is brilliant, especially in the earlier years, and I am not alone:  It is broadcast in over 60 countries, won 24 Emmy’s, a Peabody, and lots of other stuff.  The writing, sparkling and packed with innuendo and inside jokes (show-biz people love it) has a knack for satirizing human foibles, and the genius Danny Elfman’s theme song is easily the best TV theme music ever (my opinion).

There have been protests along the way.  Anytime there is a cultural phenomena and it’s on television, you’re going to get your whiners trying to draw attention to themselves and their wacky cause.  Last Sunday’s episode was no exception.  Nelson, the big bully on the playground, said to Milhouse, “That’s so gay.”  Uh-oh.  Lookout.  Here come the support-me-and-support-my-cause commando’s.  Tiptoeing from the tulips on this one is the Gay, Lesbian and Straight Education Network.  Seems that such humorous slogans are bad for gay people since it uses “gay” as a general taunt.  Speaking out in support of GLSEN (ThinkB4YouSpeak.com) comes comedian Wanda Sykes (gay) and Hilary Duff (don’t know hope not).  Spokesman Daryl Presgraves said, “Many people say gay without even realizing what they’re saying is bad.”  Come on, Presgraves,  It’s not bad…it’s funny.  You’re soooo gay!

I wish they’d complain about me.  I could sure use the publicity, even gay publicity.  Before anyone sends me any nasty letters threatening me to grow a mustache or else, let me say, I have been in professional theatre – and show business in general – since I was 16, a very long time ago.  Some of my best friends really are gay.  Besides, you really can’t win that argument.  I suspect you know this.  If you call me a homophobe, I’ll call you a homoprobe.  Ha, ha.  Now, that’s gay!  For a funny look at the opening for The Simpsons in India,  please see the video below.

The Simpsons won’t change or become more politically correct anytime soon, so pack up your troubles in your old kit bag and hit the yellow brick road.  When are the gays going to stop getting bent over…uh…bent out of shape over a little funny joke?

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The last thing Hoffman protested was Anne Bancrofts leg.

The last thing Hoffman protested was Anne Bancrofts leg.

Here in the enamored but not star-struck offices of The Curmudgeon, the entire staff gathered round the big screen TV in the conference room to watch the Oscars.   We call it the conference room but really it’s more of a party room, with Sam Adams and Guinness on tap.  I hardly paid attention though, for while everyone else was busy dissing the ladies gowns and watching to see who took home little gold statues, I was busy checking out the new brunette who works down the hall in the 4th office on the right and looks something like…well…a statue.   A very nice statue.   But more than that, I was looking to see who was wearing little peace signs during the really big shew.

Dustin Hoffman lead a silent anti-war protest at the awards.  Will Smith, Cate Blanchette, Tom Hanks and Elizabeth Taylor (who invited her) have all vowed to stay away from the biggest event on the Tinseltown calendar. Many of those still planning to attend the now “low-key” event–including Hoffman, Ben Affleck and Julianne Moore–intended to make a “silent demo” by wearing pins in the shape of a peace symbol.   Peace, my brother.

Many others have already gotten dresses and attire keyed down from the usual “look at me and my Armani” $100,000 dollar duds.  The sad thing is, they’ll be raked over the coals by the fashionistas in all the rag papers and websites tomorrow.  Like any of those nobodys should have an opinion anyway.  It’s as sad as watching the Oscars with a couple of old queens and listening to them criticise the beautiful people (not that there’s anything wrong with being an old queen.)  It can be funny as hell at first.  But then it just seems sad.

The thing is, I was too busy checking out the new statuesque brunette to notice if anybody was wearing peace signs.  Did anyone notice?

Meanwhile, on the Friday, 20th, across this company town at the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences offices, handicapped persons protested giving Jerry Lewis the Humanitarian Award at the Oscars   The group, called The Trouble With Jerry, has long taken issue with Lewis’ depiction of the handicapped as pitiful, who has gone as far as describing disabled people as “half a person” and wheelchairs as “steel imprisonment.”   Lewis, who doesn’t take criticism well, has snarled at the criticizers,  “You don’t want to be pitied because you’re a cripple in a wheelchair?  Stay in your house!”  Hey, Lady!

Down boy.  Ok.   They have a point.   Jerry has a point, and has raised a lot of money for muscular dystrophy.   Can’t we all just get along?   I don’t have any business putting in my two cents, and that’s something those Hollywood tabloid reporters should remember late tonight when they’re writing their sniping commentary.

So, do the actor’s have any business sticking their powdered noses–real or fake–into politics?   It used to piss me off.   I was of the opinion that they should just shut up and act.   But you know what?   While the American people were being fed a big pile of excrement  (ha…I’m feeling like not saying “shit” today,)  at least some “show business” people were speaking up.   Turns out they were right.   Somebody’s got to do it, and if you and I don’t, then who will?   The “Show Business” people.   That’s who.

And just who am I to criticise the criticisers, when I am a criticiser myself?  I’m just a mug with a blog.   Maybe that should be my new catch phrase…right under the title.   The Crusty Curmudgeon – Just a Mug with a Blog.  Has a nice ring to it.

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