R.I.P Paul

There's been a celebrity death. If you haven't heard, brace yourself. Are you braced? ARE YOU?? Good. Here we go. The beloved cephalopod mollusc, a one Paul the Octopus, has died. Wait. What?

Paul the Octopus. He's dead. Dead I said. (I'm feeling a bit of a Dr. Seuss eulogy coming on here. I must refrain.) You remember Paul, don't you? He was the octopus in Oberhausen, Germany, who lived at the Sea Life Center. Paul was able to correctly "predict" the winner of all of the matches that Germany played at the 2010 World Cup, including the final. Here's how it worked: One of the Sea Life Center folks would put an octopus treat (I'm guessing something similar to a Scooby Snack) in two clear plastic boxes. One box had the flag of Germany on it and the other box had the flag of Germany's opponent on it. Whichever box that Paul opened first to get his little Octopus Ort (it just doesn't have the same ring to it as Scooby Snack does), that was supposed to be the winner. And, surprisingly enough, in this case, it was the winner...seven times in a row.

But now he's dead at the ripe old octopus age of 2-1/2. Apparently, that is normal for an octopus. And while that may be interesting to you and me, I highly doubt that ol' Paul is finding the fascination in it right about now. But the way that this is being treated in the press, you'd think that one of the leaders of the free world had just croaked it. It seems to be getting an awful lot of ink (pun probably intended) for an octopus. But not everyone is in mourning (or craving calamari) right now. No, according to The Hindu (the publication, not a random guy), a one Diego Maradona, the former coach of the Argentina team, is not in mourning. The chap seems to be rather happy, as indicated in a freaking tweet that read, "I am happy your gone Psychic Octopus, it’s your fault we lost the World Cup." I see. After someone explains to Mr. Maradona that there is no such thing as a "psychic octopus", could someone then explain to him that "you're" is the correct form of "you are" that he was looking for there? Thank you.

And see, I would have found it amusing that someone was so into the whole dead octopus scene if it were not for this blurb at the end of the article: "Paul died early Tuesday of natural causes. His passing was mourned by the world football community and the aquarium in Oberhausen announced it would set up a small monument in his honour." Oh, for cryin' out loud.

A small monument? For a lucky octopus? Really? What kind of a small monument are we talking about here? A large bowl of cocktail sauce, perhaps? I don't get it. And as long as I'm on the subject of things I don't get, what was I supposed to infer from learning that he died of "natural causes"? As opposed to what? Being snuffed out by his lesser known cousin, The Unlucky Squid? Well, that would depend on who you're asking. Wait. What now?

If you ask a Chinese filmmaker named Jiang Xiao (pronounce that however you'd like) she'll tell you “I am 60 to 70 per cent sure that Paul died on July 9th (two days before the World Cup final) and the Germans have been covering up his death and fooling us for a long time.” Really? 60 to 70 percent sure? A little over half sure? Well, OK, then! Seriously? Really? That's like a C-minus at best. I'm not so sure that I'd call that grounds for "a cover up". I might call it grounds to get some inane publicity for your forthcoming film about nothing, though.

Really. According to something called The Spec, "Shortly...after picking Spain over his native Germany in the semis, he received anonymous death threats." Someone threatened an octopus? How would the octopus know? Could this octopus also read? Did it correspond with fans? What the hell is going on over there in German aquariums?! That seems to be the real issue at this point!

The unpronounceable conspiracy theorist filmmaker (there's a title for a business card for you) claims that the "Paul" that was in the tank making all of the predictions was really another octopus that had been switched out. What evidence does this nutjob have for this theory? "(Octopuses) all look the same. It is impossible to tell the difference.” You know what else looks the same? Crazy. Crazy looks the same no matter who it is who's boasting all of the crazy. The octopus is dead. Get over it.

And P.S. If he had picked all six winning Powerball numbers one week, then you would have had my attention. Actually, if it had been something other than soccer you would have had my attention. Couldn't he have been put to use for a more exciting sport?

Call Me Senator

I've become less and less enamored with Senator Barbara Boxer (D-CA). Actually, I don't think I was ever all that enamored with her in the first place. Can you be enamored with a potted plant? I don't think that you can. And that's about what I think of Barbara Boxer. My final straw with her was summer of 2009. She was in some sort of hearing where an Army general was testifying. As per how the military is trained, he addressed her as "Ma'am." She didn't like that very much and interrupted him in order to tell him that she preferred being addressed as "Senator" because, as she put it, she "worked so hard to get that title".

That's what she was worried about. Being called "Senator" as opposed to being called "ma'am". Mind you, she called him "sir" as opposed to "General". I'm pretty sure that he worked pretty hard to get that title as well. I guess that he just wasn't as petty as she was and didn't feel the need to point that out to her at the time. He wasn't being disrespectful. If anything, he was treating her with the utmost respect. But whatever. She treated him like crap for no reason is the bottom line. She's a bit of a blowhard. And I'm apparently not the only one who thinks so.

Enter a one David Zucker. Mr. Zucker is a reformed liberal who was also a main part of the group of folks who made such awesome satirical movies such as "Naked Gun" and "Airplane!" That sort of experience really proves to come in handy when one wants to make a video which mocks Barbara Boxer for her elitist position about her, um, well, her position. And it's hilarious. It's win-win. See the awesomeness for yourself below.

By the way, my dislike for Barbara Boxer should be in no way interpreted as an endorsement for Carly Fiorina. While I think Carly has potential, I just don't know about her in the capacity as Senator. That doesn't mean that I think Barbara Boxer should stay put. I hate having only two viable choices. It only serves to make me feel all the more scroomed.

Welcome Back, Charlie Sheen!

I love me a daily tale of some on-the-edge celebrity who does something ridiculous AGAIN and then has a publicist issue the lamest of all excuses as to what went wrong. Today's continuing disaster is Charlie Sheen.

Charlie Sheen is an interesting example of how one can choose to live their life, handle the consequences and still come out on top. The guy is the highest paid actor in television. Granted, Two And A Half Men is a hilarious show, but it is so hilarious that Charlie deserves to be paid somewhere between $1.10 million and $1.5 million per episode? I wouldn't really think so, but I'm not in charge of that stuff.

The best part of the exorbitant amount of money that he makes is that he earns it by playing a character that is, in essence, himself. And "himself" is a womanizing, drinking, crass, immature, clueless guy. Oh, he's also the guy who holds a knife to his wife's throat and threatens to kill her on Christmas. Allegedly. He's a peach, that Charlie.

The thing is that he "gets away" with all of this because he doesn't pretend to be anything else. That is who he is and he seems to be rather proud of it. Apparently, that is all that we (as society) are looking for in a public figure. Just be who you are and don't deny it and we'll put up with just about anything. Now, if you're Tiger Woods and you're pretending to be this upstanding family man, all the while you're sleeping with every roadside coffee shop waitress that you can find, the public doesn't like that very much. But don't deny that fact that you're Charlie Sheen and we'll not only watch your show every week, we'll cheer you on while we're doing it.

But if you're the kind of guy who holds a knife to his wife's throat on Christmas, it's only a matter of time before we hear of more of your antics. And antics, they have surface. According to the huffy folks over there at The Huffington Post "Charlie Sheen was hospitalized Tuesday for a psychiatric evaluation after a woman told police he was throwing furniture and yelling in his hotel room". Of course he was. Awesome.

Now, when law enforcement showed up around 2am, "...Sheen appeared highly intoxicated". You don't say?! Really?! HIGHLY intoxicated? Huh. Who'd a thunk it? Well, if you're his publicist, a one thinking we were all born yesterday Mr. Stan Rosenfeld, no one would think that his appearing "highly intoxicated" would be a factor in what "really" happened. Yeah, see, according to him, "Charlie had an adverse allergic reaction to some medication and was taken to the hospital." Oh, for cryin' out loud.

Yes, I'd say that it must have been a very adverse reaction to cause him to strip completely naked and start throwing furniture around. Good Lord, that really is adverse. Is there some sort of a warning label on the side of his medication that indicates that is something to look out for? You know, "Serious side effects, including dizziness, shortness of breath, lack of an erection, an erection lasting more than four hours, blurry vision, blood clots, stroke, and/or stripping naked and throwing furniture in your hotel room may occur. Consult your physician immediately if you experience any of these symptoms while taking this medication." Yeah, I'm not thinking that's what it says.

And you know that his being naked and throwing furniture around are only a few of the details of what really happened. And if those are the details that we're privy to at the moment, it's only going to get better when more details are released! Awesome. I can't wait. I love me a train wreck.

The Worst Cartoon Ever

The awesome folks over there at Urlesque had a little feature called "13 Old Cartoons You Didn't Think Anyone Else Watched". It was awesome. But after reading it and watching some of the old cartoons, I'm fairly convinced that no one watched them. That is, except The Ant and The Aardvark, which aired during episodes of The Pink Panther. That was awesome. The rest of those cartoons are simply crap.

But the one which I found to be absolutely awful as well as inexplicable was The Gary Coleman Show. Yes. That is correct. The Gary Coleman Show. From what I can tell, the Gary Coleman character is an angel that is sent back down to earth by some school marm looking angel who wears gladiator sandals (which is strange since she's an angel and lives in the clouds where there really isn't a pressing need for footwear). I guess he's supposed to do good deeds. I'm not really sure. I'm more interested in what the story was behind the dead kid, but I don't really think that they got into that very much back then. (By the way, I'm merely assuming that he's a small child in this cartoon. For all I know, he could have been an adult. Hard to tell with that guy.)

The point here is that is appears to have been terrible and I cannot believe that anyone watched it. Actually, I can't believe that anyone thought that this thing was a good idea in the first place. Who comes up with these things? What was it that made someone think that what the world was clamoring for at the time was a Gary Coleman cartoon where he's an angel? And after whoever it was voiced this opinion, who in the world was it that agreed with that individual?

I've included a sample of this madness below. It's only the opening credits, but it's enough for you to grasp just how horrible it was (and still is, in a way). If you need some of the actual crap show, do a You Tube search. There are a few on there for you to gape in amazement at.

LeBron James Whines Again

Apparently, Tuesday was "Hater Day" as declared by a one LeBron James. Dang it! And I missed it! Dang it! I miss everything! Wait. What was it? Well, from what I can tell, it was one more time that LeBron felt the need to whine about things. Aw, poor LeBron. Always getting his widdle feewings hurt.

According to The Huffington Post, James "...declared on Tuesday via twitter that the day was "Hater Day" and shared racists tweets that were directed at him." Let's just remember that LeBron has come to the conclusion that the reason that people are unhappy with him for the way that he made his exit out of Cleveland (via a huge one hour production, complete with dog AND pony, on ESPN for an hour) is because folks are racist. That's right. If you're black and you act like an ass and other folks don't like it, it's not just because you're an ass that people don't like. It's the fact that you're black that people don't like. This, of course, is according to LeBron after he was done acting like an ass.

I guess his official tweet to kick of "Hater Day" (he could not have come up with a more ridiculous name for a more ridiculous concept) said "Today is Hater Day. Everyone please let them get their 2 mins of fame and light! I Love You Haters. Continue to make me proud of u guys! LOL". Now, I'm not sure why you'd WANT to give anyone who is a jackass their 2 minutes of fame and light (when did we start throwing light into it?), but LeBron apparently did. And his reasoning, as he explained to ESPN was "I just want you guys to see it also. To see what type of words that are said toward me and towards us as professional athletes. Everybody thinks it is a bed of roses and it's not." To which I say "Wah." Tell you what, LeBron. You give me the position that you have and the money that you make and we'll see how I do with what people say. We all know I would do horrible in the NBA, so I can imagine that some of the derision directed at me would have something to do with that, but for the salary that you're raking it, I think that I could suck it up pretty darn well. I certainly think that I wouldn't have to go crying all over Twitter, for cryin' out loud.

Let's see some of the things that have Mr. James sooooo upset. One tweet said: "hey good game last night, too bad you're a fraud, BITCH". Hmm. Quite honestly, I'm just impressed that the bloke who wrote that knew to use you're instead of your. That would make me pretty happy to receive a grammatically correct tweet and not some POS filled with 4 and 2 and U.

Another tweet read that James is "a big nosed big lipped bug eyed (racial slur). Ur greedy, u try to hide ur ghettoness." OK, the racial slur is always out of line. That's never necessary. But seriously? Does the rest really bother him? He does know that not everyone in the world thinks that he's the greatest thing since sliced bread, right? Actually, I'm beginning to believe that he does not know that. Otherwise, why would he be reacting this way to tweets from anonymous douchebags on the Internet? I don't get it.

One literary genius tweeted to him: "why don't u speak by laying ur head under a moving car". Yeah, that makes no sense, moron. Putting your head under a moving car is far from a substitute for speech. On top of that, how is he supposed to get his head underneath there in the first place if the car is already moving? That suggestion contains nothing more than faulty engineering is what that contains.

I guess "Hater Day" (still hate that name) came to a close with this parting message from the founder of said ridiculous day: "U see world how people feel! Just use it as extra motivation in whatever u do best! No one can stop your dreams from becoming reality!" What the heck does that even mean? "U see world how people feel!"? Yes. Yes, I do see how they feel. Some people really do not like you at all. Some folks want you to do physically impossible things with your head in lieu of actually speaking. I see that. But I don't know that that was your original point. I only wish that he had taken his own advice and used it as extra motivation in what he does best instead of whining about how some people don't like him on Twitter.

I can't believe that this stuff really bothers him. It's on Twitter, for cryin' out loud! It's not like it's his mother who is telling him all of this stuff. These are faceless, anonymous cowards on the freaking Internet. And it bothers him? I don't get it. Do you know how many times I've been called an idiot because of something I've wrote on this blog? Let's just say that it is plenty. And each time, it does nothing more than amuse the hell out of me. I don't know these people and I don't know that I want to know them if they're actually calling me an idiot. Ideas can be exchanged without name calling. That's why when it happens, I really don't give it a second thought (though I do walk around for the remainder of the day feeling quite proud, as if I've accomplished something by annoying a stranger somewhere in the world). I wonder why LeBron can't do the same thing? Maybe all of his concern over what people think of him was what was getting in the way of him winning a championship.

Climate Change v. Santa Claus

Do people who are running for office or even the people who are already in office ever listen to what is actually coming out of their mouths? Or do they just really like the sound of their own voice? I'm getting a little tired of hearing asinine things from people and then having them explain it away by saying, "Oh, I misspoke" or something along those lines. If they would just say, "Well, that's because I'm an idiot", that's something I could get behind. The only thing that makes the idiocy even slightly tolerable is that it's A) usually amusing, and B) extremely mockable. I just wish it wasn't coming out of the mouths of folks who are supposed to be guiding this fine land of ours.

Today's case in point comes to us courtesy of the great state of West Virginia. Apparently, a one Rep. Nick Rahall, who is the incumbent Democratic for the U.S. House in the 3rd District, was asked "...six questions posed to him by members of The Register-Herald editorial board earlier this week." I don't know why only six. Why not ten? Then again, why ten? I don't know either. The point is that one of the questions was, inevitably, about climate change.

The question posed before him was "Will the EPA always have an adversarial relationship with West Virginia or is there room for compromise, and is climate change a real issue and what role does West Virginia play in the future of the environment?" OK, maybe that's why there were only six questions. I didn't realize that they were cramming more than one question into each inquiry. That's an awful lot to ask in one run-on sentence. Regardless, he did answer it. And what he said had me extremely confused.

The man replied, in part, "Climate change — to deny it exists, to just put your head in the sand and, ‘oh no, it doesn’t exist, what are you talking about,’ is about like standing on the floor of Macy’s during the month of December and claiming Santa Claus doesn’t exist. Come on, get real. There are responsible coal operators who work with us and continue to work with us, not only on climate change, but safety is another example.” Wait. What now?

He claims that to state that climate change does not exist is the same thing as claiming that Santa Claus doesn't exist? But...wait. I thought that....hmmm. Does he know something that I don't know? He does appear to be quite old. Maybe there's some sort of lore that I am unaware of? Lore that indicates that Santa Claus does exist?

Would it only be during the month of December that one could make that proclamation? I'm not sure how that plays into it. It's a charming thought, though. I'd really like it if someone did stand of the floor of the Macy's during December and claim that Santa Claus didn't exist and have that proclamation be met with a rousing round of shocked gasps from other yuletide shoppers. That would be amazing. But I'm kind of thinking it would barely get people to turn their heads. Me, it would only get to turn up my iPod so that I didn't have to be bothered by the ranting man who was spouting the obvious. Yeah, yeah. We know. Now are you going to buy that meat fork that is also a meat thermometer or can I buy it?

Now, I'm sure that if you asked this guy about this, he would simply say that he misspoke. And I'm going to pray that he did misspeak. But should this be something that you're misspeaking about? It seems a little strange that you'd take complete fiction and throw it into your argument to make a point about what is factual. Hopefully, in the future, he'll shy away from any sort of Tooth Fairy or Easter Bunny references. Then again, if he doesn't and he refers to them in the same way that he did Santa Claus, then we've got a story on our hands! And it'll be goooooood!

Balloon Boy Revisited

Yesterday was the one year anniversary of the Balloon Boy debacle. I'm not sure why it's still being called that considering that he was never IN the balloon. If anything, they should be calling him Attic Boy. But whatever. The point is that it was a year ago. I'm not sure what's more disconcerting; that it feels like it was five years ago or that it was only one year ago. It's one of those. And whichever one it is, I'm not sure it matters. It probably only matters in instances when something happens and the public is skeptic about whether or not it really occurred; especially in cases when it actually did happen. Fake stories about a little boy being transported across two or three states via some sort of balloon contraption that he was allegedly trapped in don't exactly do much to help the public's unquestioned support for such "tragedies".

Regardless, let's take a fond look back at that day and the events as they unfolded, shall we? We shall.

***********

By now, you've no doubt heard the tale of the Runaway Wife Swap Falcon Carrying Zeppelin, though most folks are choosing to go with the moniker "The Balloon Boy" story.

First of all, let's not get Balloon Boy confused with Bubble Boy. Bubble Boy was the character on Seinfeld who flipped out when he gave the answer "the Moors" to a Trivial Pursuit question which George subsequently told him was incorrect because the card, containing an obvious typo, said that the answer was "the Moops". He then attempted to strangle George, thus bursting the proverbial (and in this case, literal) bubble, and hilarity did then ensue. The Balloon Boy is none other than 6-year old Falcon Heene (pronounced Hee-knee, with the emphasis wherever you'd like it to be) who was thought to have inadvertently been inside one of his father's homemade helium balloon projects when it mysteriously came untethered and flew away. The whole event lasted at least three hours, with news station helicopters following the object (because the Dad called them and told them that his homemade mylar balloon had just flew off with his son inside of it. Of course.) and broadcasting their live footage the whole time. When the thing finally came to rest in a field in southern Colorado, a whopping 50+ miles from where it had started, the thing was ripped open like a can of tuna fish only to metaphorically hear "Sorry, Charlie" when they did not find the boy inside.

Turns out the kid was "hiding" in the family's attic the entire time. It also turns out that this family had been on Wife Swap, the hilarious ABC comedy series in which two families with completely opposite backgrounds, swap wives/mothers for a week so that they can attempt to raise the other family's children. After the week is over, the couples/families sit across from each other and tell each other how horrible their family is and that their children will likely grow up to be destitutes or prostitutes or some other sort of undesirable -tute. Sounds like just the sort of thing that I would absolutely recommend for anyone wanting to make a quick buck at the expense and sacrifice of their own children. Sure. (Good Lord, we are so doomed.)

Just knowing that the family was on Wife Swap tells you something about this family to begin with. Aside that they were building some sort of giant, silver, mylar balloon thing in the backyard that was, inexplicably, filled up with helium (that they got from only God knows where, really) even though the thing wasn't completely finished yet, if you're willingly going on Wife Swap, there's something wrong with you. Seriously. Just think about it. Actually, scratch that. If you have to think about why having your family go on Wife Swap, you don't get it and you probably won't, despite the alleged "thinking" you may be doing.

There is a lot about this story that is beginning to smell funny. Actually, there was a lot about it from the beginning that didn't smell quite right. But far be it from me to dampen a potential tragedy that a nation has spent a few hours rallying behind and Tweeting about. I'm going to point out just a few of the myriad of things that I find to be, well, a little hinky.

Let's start with the Dad, a one Richard Heene, calling KUSA-TV news first to tell them that his son may be aboard this homemade contraption of his. He's calling the TV station before he calls 911? He claims it was because he knew that the TV station had a helicopter or whatever "eye in the sky" that they have and it would be able to follow the balloon. Um, OK. But how about YOU call 911 and your wife or someone call the TV station if that's your concern. He called the TV station?

I don't know about you, but it would take me a good three to five minutes to remember which one of my local crappy news stations has the helicopter and then when I figured that out, to lookup the number and figure out who at the station would be the most appropriate person to call. (I mean, after all, you really don't want to waste a lot of time when you're trying to find just the right person to charter their work helicopter for your own personal project.) See, I don't know the number to my local crappy news stations. I do know the number for 911, though! I believe it's 9-1-1. Correct me if I'm wrong, but I'm pretty sure that's it. Really, on my phones, I don't even have to dial 9-1-1 because I have the "Holy S---" button that you just push for emergencies and then the phone dials 9-1-1 for me. I do not have a "Need a helicopter right now" button on any of my phones. But maybe there's an app for that.

Throughout this ordeal, I kept hearing how they had searched the house and the surrounding area of the suburban complex of Caucasian Acres where they appear to reside. So when the balloon came down and there was no one aboard the thing, well, that was perplexing indeed. But what was more perplexing to me was when the kid was found to be at the house in the attic the entire time. Who in the hell taught those people how to search? Was it the parole department that was in charge of Phil Garrido?! Are law enforcement officers incapable of doing a thorough and effective search at all these days? To "search" does not mean to poke your head somewhere that you can see and then to look around. No, to "search" means to move things, look in things, open doors, check boxes, ask questions such as "Does your backyard really just stop right there or do you have a prison camp of women that you've fathered and kidnapped beyond that fence and those tarps? THOSE are the kind of questions that will be a lot more effective than just eyeballing something.

But now he's found and everyone is relieved that he's OK and so on we go with our lives as before, correct? Not so fast. Now, instead of spending time recuperating from this anguishing event, the Heenes do what any normal family in this situation would do and they go on every talk show imaginable. That evening! Who does that?! And why? I'm thinking I'd be more about issuing a statement saying that we appreciated everyone's kind thoughts and everyone's help, but we're going to be getting back to our regular life now (just as soon as we beat this boy clear into next week for scaring us all half to death by hiding in the attic for 3 hours).

It was during one of these interviews, however, where things seemed to take an interesting turn for the Heenes. When the family was on Larry King, little Falcon was asked by his Dad if he heard people calling his name and Falcon said, "Yes." The Dad seemed surprised and asked why he didn't come out and Falcon said, "You said we did this for a show." Oh. Well, now. Awkward.

Did it for a show? Here's the thing: If that was my kid and I had decided to spare him the beating of his life just long enough for us to do the Larry King show and he said that, you can bet your ass that if I knew that none of this had been orchestrated in some way, shape or form that I would be asking him, "What the heck do you mean by that?!" But that didn't happen. Odd. (And I guess we can't blame Larry King for not delving deeper into it. He was probably just wondering where Jon and Kate's other five children were.) Then later, when on Wolf Blitzer's show and asked about this, Richard tries to ask Falcon what he meant by that and he could barely get the question out. In fact, he had to ask Wolf to "say it again" so that he knew what he was supposed to be asking. Um, hello?! You don't think that's a statement that needs to be gotten to the bottom of?! I do!!

But that interview with Wolf Blitzer is the one where I started having my doubts about ol' hinky Heene there. It's the one thing that will always give the liars away. It's their eyes. Look at people who are speaking in front of cameras in odd situations (like this one) where they're proclaiming either that they're a) innocent or b) not weird. They can't look up. They can't keep their eyes open. Their eyes are constantly shutting for long periods of time to the point where you start to wonder if they've nodded off. The best example of this (and the one where I first took notice of it) is Susan Smith. I have looked high and low for that video where she is pleading for the return of her two children and I have only been able to find it here. Now, it's in Spanish (for some reason), but it doesn't matter. Zip through to the part where she's giving her whiny, fake plea with her eyes completely shut the entire time (probably because she knows that she drown her two boys by strapping them in their car seats and letting her car roll off of a dock into a lake. Yeah, that's probably why.).

When Wolf Blitzer asks him to ask what Falcon meant by that and instead of asking a very simple question, Richard starts playing the victim, saying that he is "appalled" that people are insinuating something else is going on here. He says that "we weren't even going to do this interview". OK. But you did. And you continued to do the interview even after being "appalled". Let me tell you, if I was "appalled" because I knew that I had nothing to do with orchestrating the illusion that my son was in a giant runaway party balloon that I built in my backyard, that would be the end of the interview. That would be the end of all interviews. I'd be done. But not him. Nope. No, instead, he continues to attempt to chastise the diminutive brained Wolf Blitzer by saying that he's appalled and he does it all with his little squinty eyed/can't look at the camera thing going on.

For some reason, I can't get CNN's link to embed on this blog, but you can click here and see the interview with Wolf Blitzer that includes the "You said we did this for a show" comment.

Do you expect the public to believe that you're some super smart scientist guy and you can't understand why people don't understand any of your story at this point? How about this part: Your kid was in the attic for how long? Three plus hours? I'm watching this interview they gave to Wolf Blitzer and that kid cannot sit still for longer than 3 seconds. I am not kidding. How in the hell was he able to hide in the attic for so long? Either that or why is he so nervous now?

But wait. One last thing. So the family goes on Good Morning America and is being interviewed by Diane Sawyer. Now, I've always thought of Diane Sawyer as a rather patronizing individual. It's that tone of voice that is like she's always speaking to a 5-year old. But this time, it actually really hit home was what going on when she was talking to them. They're in the interview and the question comes up again about why Falcon said that about the show. That's when he tells his Mom that he thinks he's going to vomit. OK, look, I have NO children, all right? None. But if my kid says that he's going to vomit, that's it. The interview can wait. But Diane Sawyer practically has to prod the family into helping the kid get to a bathroom or something so that he can hurl. And even then, the kid runs off to the bathroom and everyone else just sits there! My Mom would have not only stopped the interview had that been me, but she would have been the one taking me to the bathroom, not watching me, as a six year old, run off to puke my guts out by myself. Idiots.

And speaking of idiots, for some reason, nothing is embedding today, but the Diane Sawyer interview with the Heenes, complete with puking, can be seen here. (Sorry for all of the linkage. I'd much rather have everything on just one page...this one! But Blogger is being uncooperative. Maybe it should go hide in the attic.)

But the Richard, the scientific genius of the bunch, tries to explain this incident away by telling Diane Sawyer and all of America that, "he has asthma". He what? Asthma? Vomitaceous (I made that up) asthma? What the hell are you talking about sir? Who has asthma that includes vomiting? Um, no one! That's correct!

So what was the point? Hard to say, but TMZ is reporting that the Heenes were pitching a reality to show to TLC a few months ago. The network apparently passed, but perhaps the Heenes were not wanting to take "no" for an answer and just needed a little feel-good publicity to prod them into picking up the show.

Still undecided on whether or not this whole ordeal was for real or not? There's video (again, not here) over there at Gizmodo and it actually shows the moment the balloon got loose. It doesn't seem to jive with any of the stories that have been told before, but aside from that, look at how mad Richard gets. Not the behavior of a sane individual, whether you have untethered giant mylar balloons in your backyard or not. It's not normal.

Guess The Halloween Costume

Yesterday, I rambled on about the whorish Halloween costumes that have been so popular lately. And while I don't really condone them, I will give them credit for at least putting a little bit of thought into the costume. While the Cookie Monster costume doesn't look a thing like Cookie Monster, if you gave me a minute, I could probably noodle it through and figure it out. Granted, that weird little beret hat that it comes with would still be confusing in the end, but I still think that I could put it all together. I'm not so sure that I can say the same about this next costume. Tell me what you think this is:

See, now, I went with the Creepy Urban Rapper Costume. Strangely enough, that wasn't quite right. What did you guess? Never mind. I'm guessing that you didn't surmise that it was really this:

That's right. It's a President Barry mask. Well, technically, it's a "mr. president set". Do all presidential masks come with a Mr. Microphone or whatever that is supposed to be? If anything, shouldn't it come with a teleprompter? It's not like he's giving all of his speeches (and there have been many of them because he seems to really like the sound of his own voice) as some sort of "man on the street" Commander in Chief. Why the microphone? Shouldn't it come with a birth certificate? Kidding! I'm kidding! I kid! Geez...tough crowd.