Geritol and Flintstones

Mr. and Mrs. Larry King just make me feel all icky. They came to town last night to present the Singin' and Story-Tellin' King Family Revue. I didn't attend.

Jane Seymour -- with a vengeance

Someone I know accused me of being flippant on this blog. He said that if someone offered me One Million Dollars (US) to wear some Jane Seymour jewelry, I would do it.

I have therefore put some time and thought into this proposition.

And I reiterate my original stance. I would not wear Jane Seymour jewelry for a million dollars. I would not do it in a box. I would not do it with a fox. I do not like ugly jewelry, Sam I Am. I do not like it; I said it again.

Out where the buses don't run

Oh, Shirley, Shirley, Shirley. When I went to find a picture of you for this post I happened to stop by your web site. If I hadn't already known you were a nut job, the Swirl to God earrings and Spirit Steering pendant would have convinced me.

This lady crazy.

John Mayer

Not for a million. Not for many millions. Not in this lifetime. No. Just -- no.

This is not literature

C'mon. I don't really have to say anything about this, do I?

I do?

OK, then. Lowest common denominator. There. I said it.

No, no, and no

Not for many multi-millions.

I prefer "bumbershoot"

This is not the rant you think it is. There's nothing new to say about how reprehensible Chris Brown is, or how misguided his victim Rihanna may or may not be.

No, I'm just sayin' that you can't pay me enough to listen to Rihanna's nasal warbling, nor Chris Brown's pop-tart "hip hop" dance crap. Er, I mean, music. It's all terribly bad. Yuck.

While I'm at it

This egotistical scumbag is no better than the she-beast.

Tell me what I'm thinking

I seriously debated wasting pixels on this slimy piece of garbage. She isn't psychic. She isn't kind-hearted. She isn't well-meaning. She takes advantage of vulnerable people by taking their money and telling them lies. I would not want to be in the same room as this repulsive swindler.

Oh, my ears! Oh, my eyes! Ow, ow, ow!

Miley Cyrus. Victim of pimp daddy Billy Ray. Only he really is a pimp, and the girl he's got on the street is his own daughter. Makes you wonder why people are still allowed to procreate without a license.

Anyway, I swear I will not contribute to this poor girl's giddy trek toward a Britney Spears-like breakdown. I will not watch the show, I will not listen to the caterwauling they call music, and I will not, not, not see the movie[s]. Enough is enough.

Reading lists

Honest to goodness. She picked our President. Does she really have to give us instructions on what to read?

Actually, I first became irritated with Oprah's Book Club when she put Toni Morrison's fabulous The Bluest Eye on the list. Years before, when I told the local librarian that she needed to get a copy of that book for the library, she declined. But when Oprah picked it? Oh, that librarian couldn't run to the card catalog fast enough, now, could she?

Stupid book club!

Follow Ashton

Hi, kids! Today's lesson is about lemmings....