Urbzen

*You can read Part 2 of this post here

As many of you know, this weekend my little sister is embarking on what can only be described as the Matrimonial Olympics, and yours truly has the (mis)fortune of playing a supporting role. With that in mind, and with a serious debt of ingratitude to what has to be the single most horrifying list of wedding etiquette in history, I drafted a form letter that I plan to include with every wedding RSVP I send from this point forward.

Dear Bride,

Congratulations! I really am happy for you two. Whether you are getting hitched for love, for security or just because the baby Jesus wants you to, your wedding is sure to be a day you’ll remember forever.

That said, I’d just like to offer a few guidelines so that you don’t come out of your wedding having fewer friends than you have ecru-and-celedon ceramic gravy boats.

 

• Contrary to popular belief, bridesmaids are not dolls, they are real human beings with lives, concerns and finances of their own. Please consider that 50 lbs of pink taffeta is probably not how these women would have chosen to spend their annual bonus and tread lightly. The point of having a wedding party is to share an important day with the people who matter to you most-not to incite resentment by insisting they refrain from hazardous activities like skiing, driving and walking for a month prior to the wedding, lest somebody has the nerve to get injured and ruin your big day.

• And speaking of, it’s your day, not your week.
  
• In regard to gifts: That’s precisely what they are, gifts. Marriage is an important milestone, but your particular life choices don’t mean that anybody owes you anything beyond a warm “Congratulations.” And please spare everyone the lecture on how much a head your reception is costing. You’re the one who had to have the arugula and glazed duck; we’d have been perfectly happy with mac & cheese.
  
• And don’t get all huffy if somebody decides to go off registry. Again, it’s a gift. And they’re wedding guests, not Santa.

• Finally, spare us the martyr act. The more you whine about the crippling stress involved in throwing yourself a big goddamn party (often with somebody else’s money), the more we want to smother you with an embroidered satin pillow. Seriously, some people have real problems.

 

All that said, I hope your wedding is the beginning of a wonderful marriage. Because if this doesn’t work out, next time you’re not getting shit.

Love,

Me

Hope you’re all safe, warm and happy this evening. After an adventurous drive through CA, AZ, NM and CO hotboxing dog farts and seeking refuge at the Motel 6 in the thriving metropolis of Grants, NM, after nearly sliding off the I-40, I’m enjoying a nice night in with family, cookies and a bottle of wine.

We’ll be back to our regular programming next week.

Cheers!

Thanks to The Dateable Dork for inspiring this post, in which we investigate the horror that is the Charmin Bears.

My favorite Charmin Bears ad is, unfortunately, not available online anywhere (yes, I checked YouTube, helper), but it is pitching a new line of pre-moistened toilet paper with the tagline “You’re not done yet!” which I take to mean “There’s still a little shit on your ass!” I really do pity the poor agency staffers who had to sit down and create daytime-friendly advertising for a product designed specifically to remove annoying stuck-on fecal matter, one can only imagine the spots that didn’t get green-lit.

Not everyone is as forgiving. Kate, from Tiny Pineapple, comments on Jodiverse.com:

I ABHOR, DETEST and REVILE the fucking SHITTING “Charmin” bears. Seriously, who still thinks that this ad campaign should continue (and CONTINUE and CONTINUE ad nauseum). GOD – the MUSIC, the stinginess of that fucking parent bear (four squares???? FOUR SQUARES????? I don’t care is NASA made the toilet tissue; sometimes you need more than FOUR FUCKING SQUARES), the smug “post-shitting” look of satisfaction on the faces of these wretched ursine creatures – EVERYTHING. OH – and don’t get me started on the DUCK. We, evidently, were lulled into a complacent daze where four sheets of magic toilet tissue was PLENTY to “do the job” (no pun intended) and THEN, that fucking quacker insists that we need special WET WIPES just to make certain that we are SQUEAKIN’ CLEAN. Perhaps if the fucking miserly Pappa bear would dole out more than FOUR SHEETS OF TOILET TISSUE that whiney little cub wouldn’t NEED specialized MOIST shit wipes. Or get a fucking BIDET.

Besides, if I wanted to see a bear SHIT IN THE WOODS, I could find a forest nearby where there are ACTUAL BEARS. Yes, I might suffer an untimely death, but if somehow I made a bargain with the Universe that my untimely death would stop Charmin from running those FUCKING SHITTING BEAR COMMERCIALS, I might just consider it a “good death.”

Hear hear, Kate. Hear, hear.

And lest you fail to grasp the horror, here’s another Charmin Bears spot featuring the hilarious perils of leftover toilet paper bits:

Was on my Dr.’s web site looking for a fax number for a prescription refill when I ran across this little treasure:

God damn you, Los Angeles.

I have no idea who this guy is, except that he lives in the Phillipines and looks unnervingly like That One:

Found this little gem on GodTube this morning, apparently it and it’s attending paraphernalia are popular among the Christian set, much like Footprints.

girls are like apples on trees.
the best ones are at the top of the tree.
the boys don’t want to reach for the good ones
because they are afraid of falling and getting hurt.

instead, they just get rotten apples from the ground that arent so good but easy
so the apples at the think that somethings wrong with them
when in reality they are amazing.
they just have to wait for the right boy to come along
the one who’s brave enough to climb all the way to the top of the tree.
DID GOD PUT U AT THE TOP?

Perhaps I’m just a bitter rotten whore apple, but things sound pretty self-righteous at the top of the tree.

>

Still looking for the perfect gift for the piece of meat on your Christmas list? Consider “Flame,” Burger King’s newest, uh, fragrance that promises an alluring eau de Whopper, which is known to drive the ladies wild, according to some dude in Boston, named Salami.

Just please don’t wear it to the dog park.

Seriously, Lance Armstrong, you are such a whore.

To hear her tell it, Margie Christoffersen is a hapless victim with a shattered life. ”I’ve almost had a nervous breakdown,” she tells the LA Times in a column published this Sunday. “It’s been the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.”

Through sobs, she tells the reporter how hard her life has been since she was outed online for contributing $100 in support of Proposition 8, the ballot measure to restrict marriage in California to heterosexual couples only. Christoffersen is the manager and public face of El Coyote, an LA landmark famous for its throngs of customers. Following the Prop 8, revelation, though, many of those customers apparently decided to go elsewhere. Business is off 30 percent and large sections of the restaurant sit empty.

Now Christofferson is singing a slightly different tune. “I love [gay people] like anyone else,” she tells the Times. But as the proverb goes, she’s already put her money where her mouth was, and that’s on the side of intolerance.

Nobody, gay or straight, was trying to deny Christoffersen anything–not her business, not her (heterosexual!)  marriage– but that didn’t stop her from not just voting for, but actually coughing up $100 to support an intitiative to rescind the rights of thousands of gay Californians. She may never come around on the gay marriage issue, but, with the restaurant once owned by her mother at the  brink of collapse, at least now she knows what it feels like to have the most important thing in your life taken away.

Mr. Henry does NOT like baths. But he DOES like it when you help homeless pets, and a great way to do that this holiday season is to consider purchasing the “Key to my Heart” Collar Charm for the furry little diva in your life.  When you buy the charm, Metro-Dog.com donates 100 percent of the profits to Best Friends Animal Sanctuary.

 Best Friends runs the No More Homeless Pets campaign, a grass roots effort to find forever homes for pets others have deemed “unadoptable”.  Every charm purchased helps feed a hungry dog or rehabilitate a dog for his forever home. Also, from now through the end of 2008, Metro Dog will donate 10 percent of total profits to Best Friends, so get shopping!