I liked Lethal Weapon. I thought it was fun, kind of zippy saccharine entertainment, and at the time I remember thinking, gosh, that Mel Gibson is pretty cute, looks good in his Levis and is not a bad actor. This was years ago mind you, when clearly I didn’t know any better. But in the last ten years or so, old Mel has taken a turn for the worse – or shall we say that he has simply revealed his true colors with the help of an entire distillery behind him. And this morning upon waking I found myself seriously DISturbed by his latest gutter mouthed rant – okay, it's yet to be 100% confirmed but considering his past, I’m going to say it doesn’t look good for him - Damn you Mel, I haven’t even had my decaf coffee yet!

So Mel - if you’re out there reading the internet late at night muttering ‘sugart-its’ under your breath as you hurl darts at your ex’s photo as you swill on a bottle of gasoline - um, your mouth needs a SERIOUS seeing to.  If one is confused as to what I’m talking about, just put in 'Mel Gibson, racist rant' in your browser, and then hold onto your hat. The man drops more offensive racial/misogynist epithets then an anti-feminist KKK leader hopped up on violent porn.

I mean seriously MG, get a grip, weren’t you supposed to be a religious, god-fearing man (sorry, but I’m laughing as you know how I feel about that)? And of course, that leads me to one of my many gripes against institutionalized religion. Here is a man who takes the word of the bible literally, I mean every sodding word. He rants in interviews about how his ex wife of a million years – how she stayed with him is beyond me - won’t go to heaven cause she doesn’t believe like he does; he makes movies about his faith, and he builds multi-million dollar churches. Fine, that’s his prerogative, what a stand-up guy. But then on the flip side this individual is so filled with hate and bigotry, as many religious zealots are – does it say Jews, blacks, and women are worthy of scathing hate fueled attacks in the bible?? I must have missed that bit -  and YET, he’s a Christian! I think they need to strip him of his stripes if you ask me.

In fact, I think Mel needs to walk on down to his local playground, grab a bench, and take a long hard look and listen to the children there. And this goes for everyone. Cause it is far time adults take a page from their books and let them lead by example. Kids don’t see color (unless they’re taught to) or religion, or let such petty B.S. define them or whom they associate with. They play, they laugh, and they get on the swings and make friends with a whole host of other kids led by a pure heart. They gravitate towards joy and fun and that is the way it should be. The saddest part of all is that as they age, and society gets a hold of them – or often their parents themselves - they then learn bias, and ignorance, and see differences as boundaries and things to fear, not embrace or simply let be. And of course, if they become scathing drunks like Mr. Gibson, then that just unleashes a whole other set of problems.

So it’s a sad screwed up world at times, but I refuse to let it bring me down damn it, I’m taking my sugar tits (sorry, I just love the phrase) down to my local coffee shop, ordering my ice latte and then grabbing a swing [that will take my weight] at the playground nearby. Might as well start this morning off right. Suck on that, Mel!

So the latest article sweeping the internet concerns China, and how you can rent a white person to pose as your employee, business partner or head of company. Whatever you fancy really. They call it White Guy Window Dressing - amongst other snappy titles -  and it is based on the old Chinese concept referred to as ‘face.’ Which essentially means that if a company has foreigners in its employ, it has prestige and money and is worth doing business with, especially with Western influences abroad. 

Um, did the Chinese watch their own Olympics???? Why the hell do they need us to do anything at this point?

They say in China, it is the pinnacle of impressing someone if you roll out a foreigner. Sorry, I’m having a hard, but entertaining time swallowing the irony. Over here if you were to roll out a foreigner people would shout in fury that they were overcrowding their shores, stealing their jobs and would want to box them up and send them back to where they came from. Not to mention the poor (insert ethnic group here) individual would be hired to clean floors or drive a cab, certainly not run a company. I guess China is a different ball of wax (note to the pale skinned immigrants, go to China, they’ll love you there!)

So I’m thinking if I’m an out of work actor who likes Chinese food, this is a pretty good gig; A flight to China, a nice hotel, and an opportunity to put on a suit and pretend to run some high flying company without having to say a word. Sign me up! I’m sure the true bona fide waiters of this world are happy as well; get those thespian bastards out of our work sector! Most of these individuals that are hired are just told to stand there, keep quiet and pretend like they just got off a plane. But of course act like you run the place of course. Genius. It’s like any CEO really. Act high and mighty, say nothing and just point to someone else and say ‘I have no idea, I just got here!’

At first, I must admit, I thought the whole notion of hiring white people sounded a bit creepy, and well…creepy (sorry words fail me). But now I’m thinking maybe they’re onto something. This is just good sound business strategy. I mean think of the possibilities. People could rent people to pose as dates at weddings -- wait, that’s called a hooker, scratch that; Okay, they could hire well to do ‘foreign dignitaries’ to increase their profile at a work function --- “oooh I had no idea Tommy was dating an African Queen; let’s sit with him at lunch from now on;”  rebellious Zionist teens could rent Palestinians to piss off their parents – I would love to see this one go down. Governments and schools could rent different ethnicities to make them look more balanced in the eyes of their constituents on press day. Yes I’m being sarcastic now. But seriously, this idea has legs, the Chinese are going to take over the world, we should be picking up as many tips as we can.

Sadly, it boils down to this, in China, a foreigner clearly represents power and prestige. In the rest of the world, a foreigner has become a dirty word. Very sad, but true. Ah well, if I get a yearning for an egg roll whilst pretending to run an oil company, I know where I will be appreciated. 

I’ve turned into a nesting maniac. I’m not sure what has happened to me as I am a shadow of my former self (which is ironic as I’m twice the size). I of course shall blame hormones - in fact I will be using hormones as my go to excuse until post menopause, cause it just seems so applicable. The funny thing is, I was never this girl. I was the gypsy girl that could move in a weekend carrying everything herself. I prided myself on my pseudo Buddhist approach to life – if it can’t be shoved in a few bags or boxes I don’t want it. Ahhh, the simpler times.

Then as it happens, I started to reach that point in life where I pined for a home - I arrived at this late, kicking and screaming of course. I suppose it’s the female call of the wild, 'I want NNNNNEEESSSST damn it!!' And slowly but surely I started to climb up the ranks of acquiring such a thing. First it was the furnished flat; I’d add a photo frame here or a vase there to leave my mark and thought okay, this isn't so bad; then it was the partially furnished flat, which made me feel really adult. Whoooooa I just purchased a coffee table! Brace yourself gypsy. This would cause some angst I have to admit as it meant permanence, and to me this was a big step (I of course rationalized that I could still strap a coffee table to my back if need be).

Then of course it soon graduated - and alarmingly quickly -  to “this flat is too small, how on earth can I nest here? I’m a bird with a vivacious energy, I have wings damn it, and I need to spread them at least over two bedrooms!” My partner struggled to keep up with all this I assure you.  I’m sure there were days where he thought to himself, god I miss my girlfriend who could rent a room just about anywhere and make it home. Now she wants space, and coffee mugs in assorted colors!

So now I’ve progressed to the unfurnished flat - the peak of nesting when it comes to city living - and over the past year, I’ve been on a quest to make it as homey as possible (and clean. Of course clean). I obsess, peruse magazines & websites like a junky on the hunt until I find the perfect chair, frame, rug, you name it. Now, I’m not a lavish girl, so things never get out of hand, but I can get pretty anal when it comes to having things just so. I always know when I have gotten a bit out of control when my partner – a definite man of opinions –  is even tired by my pointless litany of questions of which cushion color do you like better? In fact, in moments like these, I have to keep myself from hurling myself over the balcony. My favorite nesting game, add things all over the house without asking, and then wait. It usually takes him about a week or so to notice. Then he'll just stare at it and suddenly say, 'wait a minute, what the hell is that?'

Of late I will admit that I have gone into irrational nesting territory. I am down to obsessing over the minutiae of things. Is this coaster the right coaster? Can one paint a doorknob? Is there enough to look at in the toilet (it’s very important). Do the walls look too white? Will that hurt my baby’s eyes? Will he be stimulated enough? Maybe I should paint one black and red, they say they dig that sort of thing. And is the flat too sterile? I mean, I like clean lines, but I don’t want my kid thinking I’m stiff and lacking personality. I ooze personality damn it! Maybe I should turn the whole flat into a Moroccan bazaar. That would sure spark a reaction from my partner. ‘Hey baby, how was your day, grab the hookah and get on in here!..Oh the camel, that’s functional furniture, he also doubles as a chaise longue.’ 

I keep telling myself I will soon reach the end of this stage, I’m thinking labor should do it. Then I’ll be so tired post birth, I won’t even be able to find the nest I’ve been working so hard to decorate. “Nest, what nest? Just point me towards the bed and hand me one of those cushions!!”

We’re revisiting the World Cup topic today. I couldn’t handle writing about it yesterday as I was still licking my wounds from a humiliating weekend. Anyway, unless you’ve been living under a rock, or are American and think football/soccer is dull as dishwater, due to several egregious calls in the World Cup recently, people are asking if it’s time for football to use technology….Um, well, OF COURSE . Duh.

 Sorry but if a dumb question is asked, it’s hard for me to elevate my answer.

Seriously FIFA, I’m directing this one at you, since you’re apparently in charge of this anti-progression campaign. It’s time to get over the whole purist stance, it's 2010 people. “Oh no, cameras and instant replay will ruin our game! It’s a simple organic game consisting of man and ball!”......PLEASE. More like uber millionaire man running on a pitch plastered with sponsorships, smacking a high tech ball (which is of course, you guessed it, a sponsor) as the millionaire player’s bejeweled wife/WAG hollers from the stands as she plans their latest multi-million dollar home purchase. Real purist.

If the goal England was robbed of the other night – not that it would’ve helped matters, let’s be honest – had been captured by an itty-bitty camera aimed at the goal, then people wouldn’t be so angry and aghast right now. Okay they’re also aghast at how shit they played, but I’m trying to stay on point here. Even commentators and sportsman from other sports can’t believe something like a goal could go unnoticed. A goal people!!! Not a groin kick or an elbow jab. A G-O-A-L. And I just love the justification…oh, sorry we didn’t see it therefore it didn’t take place. Could you imagine if this happened in other sports… ‘Sorry Lewis Hamilton you may claim you passed the finish line first going mach 4, but we were brushing the hair from our faces whilst filing our nails and missed it. Oops. Better luck next time.’

Okay, fine, have it your way FIFA, if a camera is too advanced for you, then let’s go the purist route; I’m a woman of compromise.  Have one man standing at goal, or woman - we're much better at noticing the details of life! - and his ONE little job is to watch the ball go in. Not so hard is it? The other refs can handle the histrionics on the field as players dive intentionally and grab parts of their bodies in agony (always the wrong ones mind you) moaning and groaning like morons, only to get up two seconds later and run at full speed across the pitch.

This is the world cup. THE WORLD CUP, once every four years. It ain’t grade school soccer or a bunch of guys kicking around a ball in the park – although some teams may resemble this – ahem. Goals count – or they’re supposed to!  In fact they not only count, they are positively everything; the difference between staying at the tournament and booking a one way ticket back to Depressionville. So please, get over yourselves and let’s move on with the times.

Oh and while you’re at it, I have an idea - start fining the players every time they fall down on the pitch crying like (I’m not going to say girls, cause we’re tougher than that) little boys, and all the money could go to charity. Something tells me there will be a lot more footballers on their feet. Just an idea. 

Go Argentina! (Listen, I have to back someone, it may as well be them)

I saw a headline on CNN’s website the other day that said, “The Bachelor: why are you still watching?” All I can say to that is TOO right, and more importantly, who the heck IS watching I’d like to know?? Go on fess up, don’t be shy, we all have our guilty pleasures. Yes, I’m woman enough to say that I watch ‘Murder She Wrote.’ That Angela Lansbury is a murder-solving firecracker.

I can (sheepishly) admit that I have watched one season of The Bachelor...or wait a minute, I think it was Bachelorette (is there really a difference??) It was however years ago – yes I’m justifying myself. But to be frank, I don’t think it was the show that held me captive, but instead my father’s running commentary that was so highly amusing. It was the season with Krista and Ryan and every week myself and two of my sisters would go up to my Dad’s house and watch it with him over dinner. I have no idea how this routine started, as it was very unlike us to watch a TV show en masse, but hey, it was some of the most humorous evenings of that year. Every time Ryan would whip out another one of his flowery – and horrifyingly bad - poems my father would almost choke on his dinner and the onslaught of words and laughter would begin. And yet, to our shock, Trista ended up picking him – I'm thinking it was the whole fireman thing, I men let's be honest, a man could be dumb as rocks, but if he's in that uniform holding a big hose (sorry mom, I had to), lookOUT – and is one of the only couples from that show that is still together, not to mention married with kids.

In fact, of the 14 bachelors and bachelorettes that have been on the show, only four couples are still together and two have gotten married. Which, considering the asinine premise of this show, I find quite impressive. I mean the he sheer notion of meeting one’s life partner on TV – or partner for four to six weeks TOPS -  in front of millions gives me the creeps. It’s like some sick stud farm where all the mares are circling a seriously below average stallion – I mean seriously, if you’re going on a show like this and having your women picked out for you, I’m thinking you have some serious issues. And on that subject, the women always behave like they haven’t seen a man in 100 years, like the chosen ‘bachelor’ – who always lives off the beaten track in Wisconsin or something along those lines - is suddenly the dream god of all men, and they barely even know him. How about why is this idiot still single in his mid to late thirties, and do you really want to relocate to a town where you need a snow shovel?

More importantly, none of these women/men seem to have a problem with the fact that the man or woman they’re trying to get a rose from is shoving his tongue down other people’s throats. I think that would be my first problem, but hey, I guess I'm more traditional than I thought....“So, how did you two meet?” “Oh well it was so romantic – we were watched by 8 million people as we humiliated ourselves, and after two weeks of really intense ten minute supervised dates, and make out sessions with other chicks, he deemed me worthy enough to propose. I just found out he has two brothers and likes tacos. Who knew? Oh, did I mention we’re registered at Macys??”

My favorite is how the winning couple is then paraded about to all the talk shows and news programs - cause this is important shit people - and they hold hands and act all sincere and in love and say they knew from the very beginning that so and so was their soulmate - despite the other chick that could've also could've been the soulmate, but her family wasn't up to scratch and she dressed like a two dollar hooker. And then of course everyone is so shocked when the couple splits up two weeks later. They shout how they saw it coming, or he/she picked the wrong person etc. Um, YEAH, people, get a grip. How about the people picked the wrong venue to meet someone – try a bar, a supermarket, hell an AA meeting, at least it’s anonymous!