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Attention all personnel
 Incoming choppers with wounded, report to the hospital: It's nice having people over. But not as nice as when they leave. We're worn out; the kids are beat. The baby is overstimulated. If M.A.S.H. were on now, that would put her to sleep.
M.A.S.H. could be marketed as a depressant, if there were a need for such a product. Perhaps for hyperactive children. Why did McLean Stevenson ever leave that show, anyway? Dude had it good, but quit the show in its third year for a contact with NBC. Remember Hello Larry? Okay, I actually do, but I'm sure a number of you don't and that proves my point. Back to the fact that M.A.S.H. is a downer. Look at how Stevenson left M.A.S.H. It was literally with a bang. Henry Blake is surrounded by Unit 4077 as he leaves in a helicopter. Moments later, when Radar stumbles into the surgical tent to announce that Blake's helicopter crashed into the Sea of Japan, you are left numb. Numb over sadness for McLean Stevenson. Crazy isn't it? I guess M.A.S.H. was a good show in its prime, but it went on far too long. Kind of like visiting with company, I was glad to see it end.
We're Number One!
Go Leafs Go! For the first time in years, I am very excited about the future of my hockey team. As of today, the Toronto Maple Leafs are the number one team in the NHL. Maybe a Stanley Cup is in the works as a late Xmas present to all of us die-hards who refuse to forsake these boys?! We can always dream...
Children are evil
Okay, so tonight the boy is awake, which isn't unusual as it's 9:30 and he's watching Family Guy. But he keeps jumping up to ask for cookies and Coke and to grab scissors, to cut some hockey tape the baby shoplifted from an art supply shop we visited today. I didn't discover this until we got home, and for some inexplicable reason the glitter glue we purchased is missing. Is this instant karma for babies? She's not even old enough to use glue. She sure as hell won't be using the hockey tape. I didn't even know it was hockey tape until my husband told me. What do artists use this for, anyway? I'm still pissed about the glitter glue, and the boy is disappointed, because we were going to make an angel for the Christmas tree. Some Grinch must have swiped it when we were at playgroup. I guess that's the kind of karma you have to get used to when your sister is a thief.
It's a good thing I don't have a real job.
It's midnight, and the baby is still awake. Someone, please, shoot me now.
Creepy Love puts the 'Court' in Courtney
  Pretty on the inside? Any sane fan of Courtney Love has got to admit her latest incarnation as a drugged-out mom overly fond of the plastic surgeon's knife is creepy. Despite a battle with her former mother-in-law to keep custody of Frances Bean, Courtney's 11-year-old daughter with Kurt Cobain, she continues to act like a doped-up, spoiled brat.
 During her appearance in court on December 11 (when her hearing was postponed) Courtney resembled a frizzy-haired, whacked-out circus clown.
Remember the memorial two days after Kurt was found dead? Courtney read his suicide note, and cursed him out. She had the whole crowd screaming at her tortured husband, calling him an asshole. Kurt's note ended: "Please keep going Courtney, for Frances. For her life, which will be so much happier without me." You're doing a great job there, Courtney. Who's the asshole now? Despite reports that you've been through detox, you couldn't even hold it together in court. Love, who wore a pink jacket and pink sandals and carried pink roses, became anxious when the judge asked to review the probation report. “Probation. ... What is that? What is that?” she said, before making growling noises and clawing motions with her hands. source Courtney was arrested in October after becoming violent outside an ex-boyfriend's house in Los Angeles. Hours after she was released by police, she fell ill from an accidental overdose of the painkiller OxyContin. She has said she tried to make the overdose "fun" for 11-year-old Frances, who made her green tea as they waited for an ambulance to arrive.  As if to somehow make the public feel better about the incident, Courtney assured "That's the only time my daughter has ever, ever, ever pitched in on one of my little crises.
"I made it fun. I said it was going to be gross and I was going to have to make myself throw up but it was going to be OK," she told People magazine's November 3 edition. Gee, my mom wasn't half as cool when she'd OD. She'd be all, "Clean up your room before the paramedics get here." Do you think Bean got to hold back mommy's hair extensions while she puked? Courtney pleaded innocent; her lawyer says she took the wrong medication by mistake. That sounds like an excuse you'd tell your parents. If she was drugged up by accident that night, what's her reason every other day of the year? Pictures from her court appearance don't show a mom who is serious about keeping custody of her daughter.     Oh make me over: Perhaps I'm being harsh. Maybe Courtney's freakish appearance is solely due to all the surgery she's had done to her face. One thing I'd liked about Courtney is she never seemed afraid to look ugly. Now she has the air of a trashy, rich bitch who doesn't give a shit because she can afford not to.  The new look is scary. She brings to mind Katherine Helmond's character Ida Lowry, the protagonist's youth-obsessed mother in Brazil. I used to like her varying looks: from punk chick to Nirvana arm candy to widow skank to somewhat respectable actress. She always had an allure.
Today she looks like Joan Rivers on crack. Her collagen-bloated lips are more trout than pout. What's with these Hollywood women who pay big bucks for fishlips? It's not like she had skinny lips to begin with. Click her pic below for the full size.  It's okay to eat fish, because they don't have any feelings. Zits and all, skanky Courtney looked a million times better than this. I don't know how many nose jobs she's had done, or why her cheeks look so oddly stretched. I can't help but think of Kurt's words: "I'm so ugly, but that's okay, 'cos so are you. We've broken our mirrors."  Too bad that's not true.
Is she ugly on the inside, baby? Ugly, ugly from the back? There is no power like my pretty power My pretty power My ugly Slutkiss girl Won't you promise her smack? Is she pretty on the inside? Is she ugly?
Thoughtcrime does not entail death: thoughtcrime is death
 The Saddam Show: It's the bestest new reality show on TV and yet, I feel as though I've seen (or read about) it somewhere before.
I've been re-reading the George Orwell novel 1984 and comparisons with the present-day United States government and its puppet media are terrifying yet fascinating. Take the recent capture of Saddam Hussein for example: Every news station in the United States was broadcasting pictures of a filthy, bearded and disheveled Saddam on Sunday. It reminded me of the Two Minutes Hate daily telescreen broadcasts in 1984, which always showed the face of Emmanuel Goldstein, Enemy of The People, someone Big Brother and his minions wanted the people to focus their anger on. FREEDOM IS SLAVERY IGNORANCE IS STRENGTH The protagonist of the Orwell novel, Winston Smith, works for the Ministry of Truth - his job consists of re-writing the past, changing novels, newspaper articles, press releases and any and all media, to make the government's present lies reality. Kind of like how the White House website altered Dubya's quote from May, 2003 which stated: "President Bush Announces Combat Operations in Iraq Have Ended." On August 19, 2003, that quote was changed to: "President Bush Announces Major Combat Operations in Iraq Have Ended." From 1984: "If the Party could thrust its hand into the past and say this or that even, it never happened—that, surely, was more terrifying than mere torture and death." On the Center For American Progress website, you can find all kinds of little tidbits that prove the government is outright lying and re-writing its own past to suit itself. Here is just one of disproven claims from a story entitled, 2003: A Year of Distortion For The American People. WHITE HOUSE CLAIM: "The Bush Administration proposed stringent new rules on power plant emissions." FACT: "The Bush administration on Friday eased clean air rules to allow utilities, refineries and manufacturers to avoid having to install expensive new anti-pollution equipment when they modernize their plants." - CBS News, 11/22/02 FREEDOM IS SLAVERY IGNORANCE IS STRENGTH If altering the past isn't frightening enough for you, how about the fact that people in the U.S. are just simply vanishing ? US says it doesn't know how many detainees in Cuba From 1984: "People simply disappeared, always during the night. Your name was removed from the registers, every record of everything you had ever done was wiped out, your one-time existence was denied and then forgotten. You were abolished, annihilated: vaporized was the usual word." FREEDOM IS SLAVERY IGNORANCE IS STRENGTH 
As for thoughtcrime, U.S. Attorney General John Ashcroft (a complete religious fanatic and utter nutcase) has been hard at work, censoring art, media and going after people like Tommy Chong, who was arrested and sentenced to nine months in jail for selling bongs. Chong thinks he was targeted because of the characters he has played in movies and on TV. “They came after me because of the movies, Up in Smoke, Cheech & Chong, and because of my act since 1968,” says Chong. “They took my character to be my real persona.” The writer of an article on Chong in Los Angeles City Beat Magazine described the arrest as thoughtcrime. If you've never read 1984, you really must - Americans especially - because the basic ideas in the book are not just taking form in the present - but will come into being in a big way in the future if you're foolish enough to re-elect Bush in 2004.
All this and I get to change diapers too!
 Rut roh! The baby is cutting a side tooth which is causing her to bite and chew on whatever she can get in her mouth. Usually that means me, and let me tell you it makes breastfeeding a bitch. When she's teething, all she wants to do is nurse. When she nurses, she bites down hard with those tiny, razor-sharp fangs, causing me to scream out in pain.
When this occurs, my four-year-old son rolls his eyes. "What now?" My pained screams are becoming all too common in this household. The boy is sick again, and has been keeping me up all night as I worry about his cough and laboured breathing. He has no fever and he's fine during the day. So I keep debating: do we take the half hour walk in the cold to the doctor or wait and see? We could try the bus, but in the time we spend waiting, I imagine we could walk it. A cab isn't an option, because both kids require car seats. I know other parents use cabs, but I don't see how that's even legal. I can't even make a decision on a doctor's appointment without worrying about being thrown in jail. This morning, we had a cereal explosion. Scooby Doo cereal with little marshmallow ghosties, all sopped in homo milk, were everywhere. While I rushed off to get towels, the baby knocked the rest of the milk onto the leather couch. The three of us are grouchy and exhausted, but I'm counting my blessings, partly because of this heartbreaking Salon article by Anne Mitchell. I can't hate the Kelsos
People are pigs and scums
It's a bug's life
 VILE AND VULGAR VERMIN: Insects have been stalking me. Since Thursday, I've had run-ins with everything from beetles to centipedes and it all began with a thermal coffee mug.
Last week at work I grabbed a box from a corner of the office to pack up a corporate thermal mug someone had ordered. I innocently placed the box on my desk and what do I see crawling up the side of it? A big fat brown beetle with antenna the length of my fingers. I screamed and even my boss came out of her office to see what had happened. When I got the nerve to look in the box again, it had evidently scurried away. I was unable to even sit at my desk the rest of the day as I had visions of it crawling up my pant leg. Yesterday afternoon, I noticed a bunch of dead fruit flies all over my stove. Any constant reader of this site will remember that fruit flies stalked me last summer. Needless to say, the discovery of these creatures chilled me to the bone. Upon closer inspection of the stove, I noticed the little bastards were also stuck all over the stove light. So I turned the light on and the next thing I spot is a big dead bloated housefly sitting in my beautiful, clean and freshly oiled cast iron frying pan. I threw the pan in the sink and reached in the drawer under the stove for a pot to boil water in. Crawling inside the pot was an eight-legged beast of the vilest nature - yes, I'm talking about a spider. I screamed, threw the pot in the sink, turned the hot water on full blast and boiled the arachnid. And don't try telling me poor little spider's are harmless - I've been bitten by them and spider bites are a lot more painful than most bug bites I've suffered from. This morning, one of the eight-legged beast's pals decided to seek revenge. There I was at 5:30 a.m., still trying to wake up in the shower while waves of warm water streamed all over my body. I reached for my shampoo, applied it, rinsed, poured conditioner on my hair, put my head back and opened my eyes. And there, in the corner on the ceiling was, of course, a big, black spider. I decided that if it just stayed put, I would quickly finish my shower and let it live. The moment the thought popped into my mind, down it dropped on its evil web. I screamed, jumped out of the bathtub soaking wet, grabbed a cup from the sink counter, filled it with water several times and proceeded to drown the nervy pest. As I walked downstairs a few minutes later to get a cup of coffee, it occurred to me that I was being pursued by insects. I was relieved that it was over for the moment though, or so I thought. My thermal coffee mug was in its usual spot on the kitchen counter, right beside the coffeemaker. I smiled as I thought of my first sip of the day, which is always quite pleasurable. After pouring a generous amount of cream in the mug, I filled the remainder with fresh, hot coffee. Just as I was about to put the lid on the mug, a colossal centipede floated to the top of the liquid. Obviously, I screamed, threw the vile liquid in the sink, turned the tap to hot and boiled yet another multi-legged creature in the kitchen sink. My first sip of the day would not be quite as pleasurable as I had imagined. Fortunately, I haven't encountered any more creepy crawlies today. And so, it all ended (I hope) with a thermal coffee mug.
thread worms on a string, keeps spiders in her pocket
 Music For Miscreants: I'll be taking over Mr. Mappy's Directional Wave radio this week, so check it out. Wednesday from 8-10 p.m. and Thursday from 3-5 p.m. EST.
Most of the selections are what used to be called "College Radio" back in my day (with a little new wave and punk thrown in). I think these days they call it Alternative. Alternative to what?
Do the Terrier Dance
  We're Hare Enthusiasts: Anyone with basic reading skills can determine this isn't a hate site. It's simply a weblog of two Canadian chicks. We rant, we rave. We crack a few jokes. Anyone who thinks otherwise is in serious need of a life.
We at WHE love babies, kittens and fuzzy bunnies. Okay, so maybe BeX doesn't like bunnies. In fact, she despises bunnies. And dogs. Little puppies even. The adorable Jack Russel terrier pictured here would probably make her stomach turn. But even if she doesn't like puppies, she loves the Terrier Song. Are these lyrics familiar to you?  Terriers are my very favourite breed If these lyrics aren't familar, you obviously aren't living in a Brucio World.
We'll always have Paris... now how do we get rid of her?
  Paris Hilton can eat my asshole. Who am I kidding? That skanky rich bitch would probably enjoy it. I'm so sick of her name gracing every bit of the spam in my Hotmail Inbox, advertising her numerous sex tapes.
Paris Hiltoon Stolen Home Movie below Hello! fonf Paris Hilton gone wild! ingxaco Fuck right off you drugged-up heiress! I caught the first few minutes of her show The Simple Life last night, and just watching her shop made me want to slowly cut off her fingers with a butter knife. There was something about the way she carelessly spent thousands of dollars on one item of fashionable crap that irked me to no end. Think of how many struggling families could live comfortably if this one vapid party girl were stuffed in a meat locker and her fortune given to charity.  And the video! It's so lame. I'm not a guy, but Paris really looks like a bad lay. She flits around the bed on all fours like a nervous poodle, and pushes her lover (Shannon Doherty's husband) out of the way to make sure she's on camera. I'm sure she's loving all the publicity.
For some reason, the promises of Paris porn are not so prevalent in my Yahoo box (heh, I said 'box'). I love Yahoo's new spam button for some reason (probably because it entails the least amount of clicking to get rid of mail); Hotmail has a new look and it sucks worse than a coked-up hotel heiress. I'm not going to upload the tape, but for those who are curious, click here for a bigger version of her stubbly cooch.
spitting in the wishing well
 Oh. My. God. Even I think these are too big. Speaking of big tits, Godfader finally has a fab layout that won't crash my shitty computer. Wait, I'm not saying Godfader is a big tit. You got that though, right? Anyway, I found these nudie bits through a link on his site called Orange Dungarees.
Does Burn Know? I'm not sure if E/N is dead or alive, but Burn's DE/NIED list is still kicking. It was there that I found Taiwon On's funky site, where she muses about R2D2 Underoos, the decked out bike she rode at the age of 11 and formatting her hard drive. * wink, wink * I like her site a lot and she seems like a neat girl and I want her to marry me. Oh wait. I'm a chick!  I Saw The Shit Out Of It: Bob Odenkirk alert! After much delay, The Ben Stiller Show should be available on DVD today, and it's about time. The cast of this short-lived Fox series of skits was made up of Stiller, Odenkirk, and (if you can still stomach them) Janeane Garofalo and Andy Dick. I guess it's generally a Mr. Show alert, since David Cross was a writer and made appearances on the show too. Because it was aired more than ten fucking years ago (1992) I barely remember anything, other than thinking it was funny. Thanks to modern day Internet technology, however, we have this info from Amazon.com:
In addition to the cast's uncanny impersonations (Stiller's Bono, Tom Cruise, Bruce Springsteen, Daniel Day-Lewis, and Bruce Willis, and Garofalo's Juliette Lewis), The Ben Stiller Show was home to a gallery of recurring characters--agent Michael Pheret, the No, No, No Guy--who, thankfully, SNL producer Lorne Michaels was not around to parlay into godawful films. The topical humor can't help but date some of the material (the show is a veritable Trivial Pursuit of pop culture references, from The Partridge Family to Beverly Hills 90210, but the brilliance of the writing and sheer abandon of the performances are still a joy to behold. --Donald Liebenson I always liked Janeane, but man she's been in some shitty movies. What is she doing these days anyway? The first time I saw her she was on Jon Stewart's old talk show, and did a bit making fun of slackers at the laundromat. It was funny and shameful, all at the same time.
Layout Addict
I can't stop doing layouts. It's amazing what one can accomplish when everyone in the house is suffering from some horrible virus. Have I mentioned the baby is walking like a fiend? Ana-Mia: We're getting a lot of hits to my anorexia and bulimia post, so I made a separate page for it.
damn you, sam!
 The Snot Runneth Over: Apparently my house is crawling with mean bad guys.
But this is a good thing. It means my son is definitely on the mend from his terrible cold. This morning, he grabbed his Spider-man motorcycle and a small coat hanger from Old Navy and pretended they were guns. "Mommy, I'm a policeman. You're a policeman. Daddy's a policeman. Baby's a policeman. Dog is a policeman. Becky's a policeman. And Mokie (BeX's cat) is a policeman too." He then pointed at the ceiling, shouted "Mean bad guy!" and proceeded to furiously shoot at an imaginary creep with supernatural powers. Yesterday, his day was spent zombied out on the couch, coughing up a lung or two, barely responding to offers of soup and juice. The cough is still there, but the the mean bad guys chasing after us are a good sign that he's getting better. I'm a liitle afraid to take a shower alone, though.
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