Mostly Untrue News 18th edition

Hello, I disappeared for a while, but I am back (by popular demand) (mostly in my head) and will continue to entertain the masses. I finally got back in here after forgetting my login and password. If you read my column and enjoy it, great. If not, that's ok, I do it for my own entertainment. Have a terrific night, and let me know about any odd news you hear!

IN TODAYS DOG MOMENTS:
I have been able to scientifically make up what my dog is thinking at any given moment. This is just one moment in Meener's life:
(Meener): Oh, there's the people, they are coming home, OHMYGOD, I LOVE the people, OHMYGOD they smell so good! I love smells.
(Me): Meener, back up, get out of the middle of the door, go on!
(Meener): OHMYGOD! they NOTICED me, Oh, I love the people, but I really love it when they notice me, oh, I'm so excited, I think I'll do the weewee dance of joy. (wee wees in the floor in excitement)
(Me): Damnit, Meener, move!
(Meener): Oh, WOW, the people talked to me! (pees some more)
(Me): Meener, bad dog to pee in the floor!
(Meener): I can't stand it! They LOVE me so much! Can it be? They are opening the door for me? I get to go outside? This MUST be what heaven is like! Oh, there are so many smells, I need to smell them all, and pee on them!
(Me): Meener, go out buddy
(Meener): OHMYGOD it's a SMELL, and here's a smell, and here's a smell, and there, there is another smell! (Lifts leg, pees on each smell). Oh look, it's the big dogs! I love the big dogs, HI big dogs, oh, I love the big dogs! (humps the leg of random large dog) Oh WOW, that big dog almost bit me, HE MUST REALLY LOVE ME! I love the big dogs, ooh, they smell, I LOVE smells (wee wees a little more)
(Me): Meener, come
(Meener): I hear voices, but it's probably in my head, so I'll ignore it. Ooh, this tree trunk smells, I LOVE smells, I better pee on this!
(Me): Meeener! Come
(Meener): If I don't look, it means I didn't hear. Oh, here's a cat! I LOVE to chase cats. BARKBARKBARKBARKBARKBARK YIIIPES!!! OWWW! Cat's hurt.
(Me): MEENER, COME NOW
(Meener): I think she means it, here I am mom, am I not the cutest thing you ever saw? Do you love me? Do ya, huh,huh? I LOVE the people, ooh, I should wee wee here! I love everybody!

mostly untrue news 17th edition

IN TODAY'S COLUMN: 10 TIPS ON HOW TO PICK UP PEOPLE AT A BAR OR AT LEAST LEAVE THEM SOMETHING TO REMEMBER ABOUT YOURSELF
I thought I might start today's column with a true story about myself to show you how easy it can be to find nice people in a bar and make an impression. This past Saturday, a friend and I went to a bar for a couple of drinks. I sat at the end of the bar and my friend sat next to me and next to her on the other side, sat a very nice man who I happened to have found attractive. TIP #1: MAKE EASY CONVERSATION. Our conversation with this gentleman covered various subjects such as the fanatics who believe 2012 will be the end of the world and what they might do, just to make it a self prophesy; the deeper meanings of Marvel Comics and the possibility of a coming civil war between those who will reveal themselves and won't; and what we each do. TIP #2 MAINTAIN EYE CONTACT WHEN ANSWERING QUESTIONS. At one point this gentleman asked my friend and I what we do. I couldn't hear really clearly over the thousand watts of music coming from speakers that must have had the previous life of a howler monkey. What I HEARD was
Q: "So what (mumble mumble) you?"
A: "(mumble mumble) and she's a Capricorn."
A: *from me* "No, I'm a Virgo, I made it by one day."
(Strange stares from half the bar cast in my direction) puzzlement.

What ACTUALLY was said was
Q: "So what do you guys do?"
A: *from my friend* "Well, I am a... at... and she is a kept woman."
A: *from me while looking deep into cute guys eyes* "No, I'm a Virgo, I made it by one day."
(Strange stares from half the bar cast in my direction) puzzlement. Then laughter and pointing in my general direction.
TIP #3 YOU HAVE NO BUSINESS TRYING TO FLIRT WITH PEOPLE AFTER AGE 25 ESPECIALLY IN A BAR WHEN YOUR HEARING IS PROBABLY ALREADY GOING ANYWAY.

Another true little anecdote and tip for you:
At a Karaoke bar, a man who was clearly at a 50/50 alcohol to blood ratio came to a table where my girlfriends and I sat. This man had dressed for the night in a dirty wife beater shirt, soiled camo shorts pulled down just enough to get a glimpse of his underwear, socks which used to be white, I think, and black tennis shoes with a blown out toe. He also made sure he hadn't showered in a few days, just to make everyone comfortable. This ladies man sauntered over to the table and proceeded to pretty much beg any of us to dance with him. After repeatedly making excuses such as "I would but I don't want to vomit directly on you" and "Thanks, but I don't think I'm good enough for you, buddy" we finally just said no. This man proceeded to call everyone at the table a "bunch of bitches" and did something with his hands around the front of his shorts which I was certain he must have had a lot of practice doing without his shorts on. TIP # 4 DON'T BE THIS GUY, UNLESS YOU ENJOY BEING THROWN BODILY FROM BARS.

I also have another handy tip. TIP #5 NEVER WALK UP TO A WOMAN AND SAY "I HEARD REDHEADS ARE GOOD IN BED, WANNA PROVE IT?" I can almost guarantee you a turn down and possibly a knee to the crotch if this is even attempted.

Which somehow leads me to TIP# 6 IF SOME GOOD LOOKING GUY IN A COWBOY HAT IS DANCING WITH A SKINNY BLOND ON THE DANCE FLOOR, DO NOT THINK FOR A MINUTE THAT HE IS REALLY GOING TO DUMP HER TO DANCE WITH YOUR 200lb BUTT, AND SNEAKING UP BEHIND HIM TO SANDWICH HIM INTO A DANCE WILL NOT WORK. You ladies will be surprised at the agility of muscular cute men when confronted with someone as repulsive as yourself. That little cowboy just scooted right out of that little sandwich and vanished into thin air. By the way there is no way this is a true story about myself.

Now on to TIP #7, which is IF YOU ARE IN A RELATIONSHIP BUT FEELING REBELLIOUS AND FLIRTY, ONLY FLIRT WITH PEOPLE YOU ARE SURE YOU WILL NEVER SEE AGAIN.
Otherwise, when you see them again and have no idea who they are, excusing yourself from them by saying "Thank you, but I have a boyfriend and we've been together for over six years" will make you look really stupid. This is especially true if you met the guy you flirted with only a month ago. This is also not a true story about myself by any means.

Another thing to keep in mind is TIP #8 NEVER SLEEP WITH SOMEONE YOU JUST MET AT A BAR. GO TO WAFFLE HOUSE FIRST. This has nothing to do with religious beliefs, worries about STD's or anything about your own personal morals. What I am talking about is, say you go out to a bar for a few drinks, and you meet someone. This person is under low lighting, speaking over loudspeakers, and you have replaced your own eyeballs with beer goggles. The two of you decide to leave and meet at the nearest Waffle House for breakfast. Waffle House has the harshest lighting in the world comparable only to dressing room mirrors. Eat, sober up with little coffee and then look at them in Waffle House lighting. SEE!!! Now aren't you glad you didn't immediately sleep with him or her? They don't make enough Ajax brand cleaner to get all the gross off of your body. They sound like an eighty year old smoker who started out with three packs a day at age ten; and they gargle regularly with Drano. And that's just the girls. Make sure when the beer goggles come off you scream loudly and run for the door like an Olympic sprinter.

TIP #9 can be especially useful at a bar. TIP #9 KEEP TOPICS OF CONVERSATION IN YOUR HEAD, READY FOR EMERGENCY. The best two topics I can recommend are babies and rashes. For example you are a guy sitting in a bar and some woofer gets the nerve to come over and talk to you, please let her down easy. Let her introduce herself and then ask her a few questions to engage her, then let her know about that weird rash you have contracted. Talk in depth about it including specific descriptions of the pus from various boils. Be understanding when she suddenly spots friends she must speak with NOW. If however, you are a female and someone along the lines of the guy from TIP #4 comes up to you, and assuming he is coherent enough to remember women are not bitches, let him introduce himself. Smile reassuringly at him and invite him to sit down. It is best if you immediately begin the conversation with how much you are looking forward to meeting a man who loves children because you really want a good man for the four children you have at home. All of which are under the age of three. Be sure to ask him if he wants children because you are absolutely looking to have a large family involving at the least six more babies. Be understanding when he suddenly spots friends he must speak with NOW.

Which only leaves us with TIP #10 SHOW YOUR POTENTIAL DATE THAT YOU ARE TOTALLY OVER YOUR EX BY TALKING ABOUT HIM OR HER ALL NIGHT LONG. Of course I am kidding. You should get really drunk and call your ex and either tell them how much you have missed him or her and cry loudly OR call your ex and start screaming at the top of your lungs about how much you hate them and you hope he or she gets a horrible STD from the person he or she is now dating. Do this in front of a large crowd of people.

Well, that's about all the advise I can give. After this, you must make your own way in the world. I don't require thanks for the helpful tips I have shared with you, the reader; donations will suffice.

Have the kind of day that would make your mother proud. *Note* Not all results will end well.

mostly untrue news 16th edition

IN TODAYS COLUMN: THE SHEWEE
For those of you who regularly or semi-regularly read this blog or those of you who just happened one day to come across it accidentally while looking for something intelligent to read, may know of my last camping adventure wherein I peed all over myself while doing an improper popped squat. I am again attempting the whole camping thing again on memorial day weekend with about 18 other people who I really don't want witnessing another camping disaster. Before finding out that someone had taken mercy on me and found a campsite with actual restroom facilities I began looking for better ways to pee. One alert reader, Regina, brought a product to my attention. This product is the SheWee. I am not lying. Feel free to Google this product. The basic model looks like this:








As you can see this looks like a funnel, and that's exactly what it is. Now, without getting too graphic for those of you who don't like graphic stuff, I'm going to show you a dirty picture:You (females) stand up and supposedly without even removing your panties you can she weewee all over the place. Here are the instructions:

Undo trousers. Push underwear to one side. Place Shewee securely against body with outlet pipe directed away from body.
Aim urine to a suitable place – away from feet, into a toilet or a container. When finished, pull funnel away, wipe- liquid repellent coating ensures no drips. Place reusable Shewee back into resealable container. Tip! Practise with Shewee in the shower to find the best position for you. Shewee is washable by hand or machine and can withstand temperatures up to 120°C. On leaving the body, urine is sterile.

In case you are confused, there is a more detailed instruction list on the website directly under these helpful ones. One such detail is to leave about 1 mm between your body and the shewee; in other words, don't forget your measuring tape, ladies.
Also, you may find the "When to SheWee" section of their website very helpful. I know I sure did.
If you find the basic model too boring for your individual urinating needs it also comes in a variety of colors for your more comfortable viewing pleasure. There is a Barbie-hot pink one, a soothing nato-green one, a blue one, a red one, and a desert sand colored one. Also these have coordinating containers available. They look very much like a toothbrush case; please do not mix the two up. Ladies and confused gentlemen, we aren't done yet. These guys have T-shirts:
They have kits:
this kit also includes their special pink underwear called an "X Front" (again, I am not making this up)
They also have this scary looking product:
This is some sort of underwear apparatus which apparantly enables you to pee all day any day. My only complaint is that all the pricing is done GBP (eg: 11.50 curly L's) which turns out to be around $30.00 in American money. That was the price for the basic. HOWEVER, if you have the money to spend, this handy little device comes with an extension. Yep, peeing for distance is now a possibility for us gals. Here is the extension:


No longer do we have to watch drunk men pee off of the balconies of frat houses feeling left out and separated by genitals. Now ladies are also able to get drunk and pee off of the balconies of frat houses too! Heck ladies, we now have unlimited peeing capabilities. So, liberated women of the new millennium, go outdoors and mark your territory!

Have a pleasant immediate future, unless that's not working for you right now. In that case, keep up the good work.

mostly untrue news 15th edition

IN TODAY'S COLUMN: House work - brilliant anecdotes and simple tips on how to get your way.
Today as I was putting laundry into the washing machine (ever notice if the laundry is clean it's "laundry" however, if it is dirty it is "laundry", what is that?), anyway - ... laundry into the washing machine, which is located in the bathroom. As I was working I realized my bathroom could use some cleaning because, in layman's terms, it was really gross. In husband and children terms it was pretty clean, but because I am anal about the cleanliness of my bathroom and kitchen and can see actual dirt molecules, I decided it absolutely must be cleaned. First order of business was washing the two bathroom mirrors and the large hand-held mirror so one can see the back of one's head in case there is anything one can do to make one's hair look worse than it already does. WHAT was on these mirrors? The medicine cabinet mirror looked like someone had poured milk down one side of it. It was also obvious that someone in the house with an electric toothbrush turned on the toothbrush and, before any teeth brushing happened, would let it vibrate and whirl in front of the mirror for a minute or two. The other mirror looked as though when the twirly toothbrush person finished leaving toothpaste splatters on the tall mirror, they went to the shorter mirror and gargled, head back, mouth open with the mirror lying on their face directly over the open mouth. The hand-held mirror looked much the same only with some kind of gooey stuff stuck to it. So, I washed the mirrors and and once again turned them into objects that could be looked into and would send one's brain back a signal that didn't make the person look like a half melted milk face with horrid spots and sticky wounds. TIP #1: permanently affix a thick towel to all mirrors so you will never have to worry with cleaning them again. Second order of business: clean the sink and counter area. I don't know how many readers are aware of a product called Simple Green. Simple Green is this engine grease, slime busting spray cleaner. This stuff will clean anything. It is only sold concentrated. My sink needed a combination of Simple Green and powdered Comet to clean it because my husband comes in every day and washes his hands, which are generally covered in oil from various construction equipments and dirt and money germs and pretty much anything filthy within a fifty mile radius from his job. He does this everyday and faithfully leaves the greasy, filthy water drops all over the counter and in the sink and on the handles (and I don't even have to ask him to do it). So, the toothbrush holders and the counter tops and sink and handles are cleaned before I clean the soap which is dirty from the husband who washes his hands with it and doesn't rinse it off. Also, the stray hairs and bits of stuff are cleaned out of it. TIP #2: soap is not self cleaning. Two down, two to go. The shower and toilet are all that is left. Here is a question I would like to pose to you readers: why is it that men seem to find the shower the only acceptable place to blow their nose? I'm not talking about civilized blowing into a tissue blowing, but simply blowing out into the shower stall. I know it isn't just my current uncivilized partner, because my last husband, a.k.a troll cave, did this too. Not only are boogers on the shower walls gross, they are also very hard to scrub off without using a COVERED UP thumb nail and scratching those suckers off. Somehow men have found a way to not only blow their noses on the shower wall but they stick them on with some sort of glue with permanent immortality properties. The best way I found to deal with this problem is TIP # 3: draw giant circles around all of them with red lipstick (that you will never use again of course) and write on the wall with the same lipstick (INSERT NAME OF NEANDERTHAL HERE) STOP LEAVING BOOGERS ALL OVER THE SHOWER, THIS IS GROSS!!! It makes said neanderthal really mad, but if the cleaner of the shower has to be mad and grossed out then it serves the neanderthal right for being such a snot nosed puke face. On to the toilet (oh goody). Now, I understand boys are differently equipped than us girls and as a result have decided somewhere along the line that real men stand up to pee. This is not too much of a problem unless you are raising two potential men who are 10 and 12 years of age. Apparently being smaller and closer to the toilet does not mean you can hit that big ol' bowl with any sort of accuracy. I discovered this today as I was cleaning our personal toilet. Some small person with the aim of a dizzy sightless person peed down the side of the toilet. The outside side of the toilet. As in that little place behind and under the toilet, where the toilet screws down into the floor was pooled in pee and the side was covered in dried tacky pee and the floor surrounding the toilet was peed upon. You could literally see the bacteria having a beach party in the nooks and crannies of the toilet and surrounding area. There was a housing community being developed by all the little enzymes while the younger bacteria played in the pool surrounded by hot bacteria lifeguards with sunscreen on their noses. TIP #4: invest in a port-a-potty. The family pees there. You buy a lock to the bathroom, hide the key and only go in when you are sure no one else is around to get in. Lock the door behind you. Take mercy on no one. Afterwords I cleaned and disinfected the cat box which was in much better shape than the non-feline waste depository, then swept and mopped and now everything is nice and clean. Well, it was, the kids are home now and I'm sure once bladders are emptied I'll have to clean the bathroom again tonight. At least I have job security for the next several years.

Have a great day and try to make at least one stranger believe you really do have an Australian accent.

mostly untrue news 14th edition

• TODAY'S ISSUE WILL BE ON WHY YOU SHOULD NEVER, EVER GO CAMPING (AT LEAST WITH ME)

This past weekend my dear brother, Andy and his fiancee, Tiffany, invited me to go camping with them. I am 30 years old and have never actually gone camping, so I excitedly accepted their invitation. After the phone call was over, I skipped cheerfully into my home office, which is where my Eagle scout husband and my two boyscout sons keep their camping gear. I found a black backpack that I recalled seeing going out the door on more than one boyscout camp-out. I grabbed it up and inside was some roll of some plastic stuff; I never did figure out what that was for, so I set it aside. There was a folded up blanket thing that was silver. Who needs something like that on a camping trip, I didn't even know what it was, so I set it aside as well. Then I found an orange thing! People wear these orange things in the woods so they don't get mistaken as deer and shot. Yes, must pack the orange thing, even though it looked kind of small, and I couldn't figure out how to get it on, I packed it, assured that my woodland brother would know what to do with it. I took the orange thing and the backpack into my room and decided right away that the backpack was not going to be big enough so I took it back to the office. Back in my room I pulled out my red rolling carry-on bag with gold Fleur-de-lis on it. This was bigger, and would work well, and BONUS, it rolls, I don't have to carry it! Feeling rather smug about my camping choices thus far, I began to pack. I packed four pairs of panties, because you never know when you will need extra. I was wearing a pair of pants, so I packed only one other pair of Old Navy button-leg pants, and my comfy Old Navy pajama pants with matching pajama shirt. I put in four pair of socks, just in case there was a sock emergency. I packed four shirts because I didn't know what mood I might be in the next day, so I wanted options. The only tennis-like shoe I own are a set of black and white checked Converse sneakers, so I packed those in case my cute flip flops were not enough foot protection. "Oh", I thought to myself, "what if we get attacked by muggers or something?" So into the red and gold fleur-de-lis rolling suitcase went a small, heavy bat shaped tire thumper, a screwdriver with pink, purple, green and yellow flowers on the handle, a pair of pliers (in case I had to pinch someone to death?) and a leather-man tool with three pocket knives in it. I am now armed to battle any force of nature that comes my way. Next, I packed my electric toothbrush, a pouch that had little soap sheets that I bought at some sporting store, Neosporin in a magnetic case that also had a keyring, a hair-pick and broad toothed comb for unruly curly hair, a headband, and two different packs of barrettes (again, so I had choices for hair styling depending on the mood of the next day), Olay SPF 15 rejuvenating cream with a touch of tint and two diet cokes. Here I come nature, stay the hell out of my path or I will be forced to unleash something awesome that I had packed! Next... TO THE KITCHEN. I would pack enough food to make sure that if this trip ended up being more than one night, I atleast, would be prepared. Feeling even more smug than before, I packed into one of my tupperware-like baskets with clear sides (so you could easily see what was in it) with locking blue lid with a handle, a pack of ramen noodles, a package of unopened crackers, a can of peaches and a can of pears, two cans of something called potted meat (chicken flavor), six slices of bread sealed in plastic wrap, a four pack of plastic silverware, a plastic cup, and a granola bar found in the pantry from God knows when. Food is taken care of. I'M not going to starve out there in the wilderness, darn it. I packed my plushy pillow into the suitcase, sat on the case and got that sucker zipped. I still had no place for my warm fuzzy blanket, so I called my Boyscout husband and asked what to do with it. He told me to attach it to the outside of my pack. "Um... ok, how do I do that exactly?" With string, I was informed. I don't have string. Well, I'll just carry it. After all, I can't freeze to death. I was so prepared by now that I was feeling the amount of smugness that the pope must feel after listening to pathetic sinners.

LATER AT THE CAMPSITE

First I give my brother the orange thing because we don't want to get shot. He looked it over, handed it to Tiffany, she looked it over and we all decided it must be some kind of face mask. Upon further inspection Andy found the tag and I had brought along a dog vest. Well, we could still hang it in the tree so no one shoots in this general direction, right? My well thought out question only brought well meant laughter my way from my brother and his fiancee. I'm sure they meant it in the nicest way possible. Andy unloaded my bucket of food and held it up and stared at me. "What?" I asked thinking he was about to compliment me on my food packing. He laughed and told me we were only staying one night, how was I supposed to cook the ramen noodles, and how was I going to open any of the cans as I had packed no can opener. Together he and Tiffany laughed at me. I was ok with that, after all, they needed to bond, this would be good for them; I was willing to oblige. Then he held up my warm fuzzy blanket and asked if I had really only brought one blanket. Well, of course I did, I didn't have room for more and this blanket was really warm. He told me it was going to be thirty degrees that night. I assured him it would be fine. Andy and Tiffany exchanged well meant looks and laughed another well meant laugh.

AS THE NIGHT WENT ON AND IT GOT DARK

I had eaten (off of a wild stick) a hotdog and a s'more. Suddenly my tummy gave me the rumble that meant I was about to rid my body of a hotdog and s'more. "Uh, Andy," I said "I need to do a number two". "Well, go that way (pointing to the absolute dark away from our campsite), I don't want to see you do it", he told me. "But it's dark out there" I smartly pointed out. I was told to just go. So I grabbed my toilet paper and went to a spot right in front of his truck and over just enough where no one could see what I had done in the morning. Well, cold air and stage fright took over and my body sealed itself so shut that nothing could have left or entered my body at any point. So, I pulled my pants back on, kept my toilet paper and walked back to camp. I sat in front of the fire a little while longer and digestion took over and insisted I try to do another number two. SO, I walked back to my spot, held myself up with my cane, and tried to relax. Finally nature took it's course and I managed to "let it loose". The only problem was that my body weight, being over 200 pounds was trying to stay up on leg muscles that had atrophied a bit due to a stroke and were burning at the weight they were trying to hold up. I finally finished my business and triumphantly went back to camp announcing I had made poo in the woods and didn't even get anything on myself. I was so proud. Proud people are often struck with something bad by God. Six diet cokes later, I really had to do a number one. I was taken to a tree that I could lean against, was told to "pop a squat" and handle my business. No one showed me how to pop a squat. "I am not popping this squat properly", I thought as pee flowed from me all down my right leg and into my shoe and down my left leg and into my other shoe. The problem was that I had had to force myself to relax again and in such a state, I couldn't close the floodgates. I stood there peeing all over myself for about two or three minutes. Finally finishing, I screamed for Andy to bring me new pants and socks and underwear (I chose him because Tiffany had already gone to bed). Laughing another well meant laugh, he brought those things to me as I changed butt naked in the wild; only before changing, I had to wash myself off with paper towels and ice water directly from the cooler, in thirty degree temperatures.

BEDTIME

At about two or three in the morning, Andy and I decided to crawl into the tent. Imagine if you will a big fat woman crawling through a tent door onto a squishy blowup mattress. Now imagine this scene except that the left half of this woman's body won't coordinate the way it used to and has little muscle strength left. I was starting to feel that all this laughter wasn't quite as well meant as I had wanted to believe. Let me just get through this part fast. My blanket let me down in the fact that it is no match whatsoever for thirty degree weather, so it left me fighting all night for some of Andy and Tiffany's four or five blankets which they were not wont to share. Occasionally I slept on this really uncomfortable bar under the tent that turned out to be my own cane, which I could have removed at any time, and my feet got so cold I was sure I would have to have some toes removed the next day.
So, all in all, camping was pretty good because no one shot us. Otherwise, no one ate my food, we didn't even have a dog to put the orange dog jacket on, I peed all over myself, everyone laughed at me, I froze to death and probably ended up with e-coli or something from eating off of wild sticks.
THE END...

mostly untrue news 13th edition

• IN TODAY'S FASHION NEWS: There are times when I wonder if all this man baiting is just a cover for the idiotic things women do to themselves. I cannot even call this alarming trend sexy. It isn't sexy, it isn't healthy, it serves no other purpose than to make women look alarmingly bizarre. What is this trend? It is a trend toward towering footwear for ladies under the name of "shoes". My favorites so far:

Oh yeah, these make me think sexy! No? How about broken ankle, trip to the emergency room, and feet that will look like Hobbit feet in about 10 years. I'm not sure who came up with this unfortunate look for fashion, but I think it had to be someone who was very short and had problems with self esteem. Like Napoleon. Maybe Hitler. Oddly enough though, this towering footwear has been heading down runways attached to the anorexic feet of stick insects since last season. So, what is the reasoning behind designer's scheme to give all skinny women hammer toes? The recession! I swear I'm not making this up. According to Yahoo! news reporter Joanna Douglas, during recession times, like the Great Depression of the 1930's, the oil crisis in the 1970's and "and when the dotcom bubble burst in the 2000s" there is "a greater need for escapism." Escapism? I couldn't escape out of a paper bag in those ankle twisters! However, they might come in handy during a mini flood of some sort. Maybe if you couldn't reach the diet water on the top shelf, these towering, tormentors of treacherous toe-height (barely pulled that one off), might do some good. Otherwise, I would just use them to throw at people.

• IN TODAY'S FINANCIAL NEWS: Pamela Anderson is feeling the stresses of this country's economic woes. The blond, busty bombshell is rumored to owe the government around $493,000 in back taxes. She is also rumored to be balking at a million dollar bill for renovations done to her home in Malibu. Pamela states that "her lawyers were 'reviewing the work done' to investigate the possibility of unfair bills", and that while she was indeed the subject of tax liens to the tune of several hundred thousand dollars, she was still "financially secure." Ms. Anderson proves she is in no trouble at all due to the fact that she now has a double wide trailer on the beach. Ladies and Gentlemen, you can take the trash out of the trailer park, but it will just keep getting breast implants until you let it back in.
  
• IN TODAY'S WOMEN'S ISSUES: This is a personal tale about Not Me. Two days ago, Not Me and my boyfriend were invited to dinner. While getting dressed, Not Me decided to wear something a bit sexier than the usual neutral bra and ginormous stomach - holding - in spandex underpants that I usually wear. This time, they were red. Ok, they were a little sexier than that, and Not Me decided to wear them and whisper sexy stuff to my boyfriend that would turn him on for after dinner. You know, things like "ooh baby, I've been thinking, that - um... later... we might, you know, go to Wal-Mart and get some milk". So, the underpants part went fine. All night they stayed where they were supposed to and served their underpants purpose. The bra, however, was created by Satan. You have to understand that Not Me has a robust chest girth (in other words, I'm kind of fat). However my cup size is that of a sixth grade band geek. Rarely do I EVER find bras in in Not My size. This one was close though, and I had figured I could make it work. Not Me put it on having to do the thing where you put the bra on upside down and backwards, then button it, then turn it around and right side up. When I twisted it around not my body it left tread marks like a mac truck had just spun out on my abdomen. This was followed by the insert-able fake breasts found at your local Wal-Mart store. Not me had to do this because this particular bra had shaped cups and it looked like Not Me had just dumped melted silly putty inside it. So, in with the breast enhancers. Ahh, instant breast enhancement and a little to extra on the top; perfect. Perfect except that about ten minutes into dinner, Not Me discovered that this bra was made for people with actual breasts and not pre-formed breast inserts. Not Me discovered this because the under-wire of the bra began poking Not Me in the armpits causing an irritating sore. The only relief from this new affliction was to sit there motionless with both arms raised in the air. Apparently this is frowned upon in most restaurants (depending on location). So, in trying to adjust the height of the bra, Not Me ended up stabbing not myself in the armpits and then managed to make the straps slide halfway down not my arms. These straps slid so far, that Not Me had to actually reach down the neck of not my shirt with a rod and reel and go fishing. These straps were not giving up without a fight. It never occurred to Not Me to go into the ladies room and do the bra of Satan dance in private, where there was a good chance of falling into a toilet as well. Nope, being the classy, sophisticated person that Not Me is, Not Me did this little bra voodoo dance right at the dinner table. So, having fought with the evil bra all night, when Not Me and my boyfriend got home Not Me took the bra of death, doused it in gasoline, set it on fire, scattered the ashes to the four corners and just went to sleep; milk be damned.
  

• That's it for today's news, so have a grumpy day and don't smile at anyone unless you are trying to spit gum in their path.
  

mostly untrue news 12th edition

• IN TODAY'S STUPID SONGS SECTION: Sly and the Family Stone are currently singing in the background of my computer. They are singing Everyday People. This is a stupid song anyway (and they play it too often for my taste on Pandora), but I would like to know what the hell Scooby Doo had to do with this song. Am I the only one to ever ask that question? I don't think so, there is bound to be an answer out there somewhere; I would appreciate it if any vigilant readers out there know the answer or are clever enough to make up something that sounds like the truth, please feel free to let me know under the comments section of this blog.

• IN TODAY'S MORE STUPID SONGS SECTION: The group known as Steam wrote a song called Na Na Hey Hey (Kiss Him Goodbye). This gem of a song was played for me this afternoon on Pandora. I had actually heard it several times before today, but never payed much attention to it until today. I won't write anything about the song, I'm just going to write the ending and see if you can spot the problem too. I'm not making this up and have copied it word for word:

  Hey, hey, hey,
  Goodbye.
  Na na na na,
  Hey, hey, hey,
  Goodbye.
  Na na na na,
  Na na na na,
  Hey, hey, hey,
  Goodbye.
  Na na na na,
  Na na na na,
  Hey, hey, hey,
  Goodbye.
  Na na na na,
  Na na na na,
  Hey, hey, hey,
  Goodbye.
  Na na na na,
  Na na na na,
  Hey, hey, hey,
  Goodbye.
  Na na na na,
  Na na na na,
  Hey, hey, hey,
  Goodbye.
  Na na na na,
  Na na na na,
  Hey, hey, hey,
  Goodbye.
  Na na na na,
  Na na na na,
  Hey, hey, hey,
  Goodbye.
  Na na na na,
  Na na na na,
  Hey, hey, hey,
  Goodbye.

In case you want to purchase this song, just look for the album that looks like this:
A group of sweaty, furry and slightly over weight, pasty white guys all cuddled together in a sauna. Calm down ladies.

• IN TODAY'S WELL, WE MAY AS WELL MAKE THIS WHOLE BLOG ABOUT STUPID SONGS: Let's just go with it.

  1. Muskrat Love by Captain and Tennille. I personally don't see how you can miss with this song, especially if you happen to be a rodent. Check out these tantalizing lyrics: "Muskrat Suzie, Muskrat Sam/ Do the jitterbug out in Muskrat Land/ and they shimmey... Sam is so skinny". Not to spoil the ending lets just say things get a little wild for Sam and Suzy after they start "Nibbling on bacon, chewing on cheese/ Sam says to Suzy, Honey, would you please be my Mrs." I refuse to write about the kinds of smut that happen next.

  2. I Would Do Anything for Love (But I Won't Do That) by Meat Loaf. Appropriatly named after refrigerator leftovers, this artist would do anything for love, but he won't do that. No one knows what exactly it is he won't do and he doesn't bother to enlighten us with that mystyrious knowledge. This song is approxamatly 183 minutes long, and in all the professions of love that Mr. Loaf makes to his love, he still won't do that. Good for him. Take a stand.

  3. My Ding A Ling by Chuck Berry. Oh, come on, I can't even type that without laughing hard enough to soil myself. Really, Chuck, do we want to know about this? "Oh my ding a ling, Everybody sing
     I wanna play with my ding a ling a ling
     My ding a ling, my ding a ling
     I wanna play with my ding a ling a ling"

  4. *Note, I am not making this up, I swear* Are You Drinkin With Me Jesus? By Mojo Nixon, Country Dick Montana (snicker snicker) and Jello Biafra. These lyrics truely touched my soul: "As I nestled on my barstool / I felt your warmness within / I looked down at my pants / that wasn't warmness / I wet myself again". If that won't bring a tear to your eye, the chorus ought to do it: "Does your head pound, Jesus / As hung over you do rise / how does paradise look, Jesus / through holy bloodshot eyes/ should we take a cab home Jesus/ Man, we can hoof it from here / I know you can walk on the water /but can you walk on this much beer?" I've never witnessed cleverness on this level.

• AND FINALLY: At the Gas Station of Love, I Got the Self Service Pump – Weird Al. Yeah I know. Still...

Well, thank you for wasting that much time out of your life to read this and have a smug day knowing you know something no one else does.

mostly untrue news 11th edition

• IN TODAY'S MORON CELEBRITY NEWS: Jessica Simpson talks about her favorite body part. Is it her lovely blond locks, her enormous bust, her winning smile? Nope, it's her nose. You may be asking yourselves why this is so important that it would merit comment on a blog such as this. The answer is: it isn't important, I just like to make fun of mediocre celebrities! So, what did Jessica have to say about her nose? "I like my nose, that's my favorite body part...I do have a bump, but I like my profile -- I don't think anyone else has my exact same nose, I think it's unique and a little flawed." Well, that just about covers it, but if any alert readers out there think they may have Jessica's "exact same nose", please write in and send a picture of your exact same Simpson nose. You can reach me by e-mail at www.whocaresaboutjessica'snose.com.

• IN TODAY'S WOMEN'S ISSUES (SORT OF): A couple of days ago I purchased a fine magazine: Cosmopolitan, the one with Lady Gaga in her underwear on the cover.

The cover articles really gave me pause for at least 3 or 4 seconds. These titles were all about sex. Not about how to please the woman who would probably be reading it, but ways to turn her man on. Titles included such winners as: The Sex Article We Can't Describe Here; 50 Things to Do Butt Naked; Speak His Sex Language; Sex Operations for Her That Will Make Her Man Like Her The Way She Is; Sex Sex Sex; More Sex; We Like Sex... you get the picture. My only question is why women need all these articles to get their man in the sack. I think all magazines could write one article that will work for every woman. The title of the article would be "How to get your man in bed". The entire article would be one sentence: "Just show up". Really, is it all that hard to get a man to have sex? I don't think so.

• IN TODAY'S NARCISSISTIC BEHAVIOR: I was shopping for toothpaste in a store that rhymes with doll-fart. As I passed an isle, a TV with a motion sensor started a toothpaste commercial. A brunette woman with teeth so white they could be seen from the moon came on and said "Finally, after all these years, I feel that a toothpaste was made specifically for me". Really? This woman seems to sincerely feel that all those tubes of toothpaste in her brand were made specifically for her. Well, let's give her the benefit of doubt and say that yes, all those tubes were for her; shouldn't she feel obligated to buy them all so that there could be room on the shelves for tubes made specifically for someone else? Should the general public buy her toothpaste since it was made for her? I might feel a bit uncomfortable using toothpaste not intended for me. Also, what made her so special? She was attractive, but there are other people out there more physically appealing than her. Does Julia Roberts get her own toothpaste too? Lord knows she has enough teeth to do some serious advertising for a toothpaste that could be made just for her. And what about the rest of us? I have yet to get a letter, e-mail or phone call that informed me I was getting a toothpaste designed with my particular dental issues in mind. Perhaps you only get your own toothpaste if you have a lot of money to buy off a toothpaste brand and make them serve only your teeth. Does Donald Trump or Bill Gates have their own toothpaste? "The Don says use Trump-paste or you're fired". I don't know what the secret is to getting your own toothpaste, but I'm a little pissed off that my dental needs have never been considered for a teeth cleaning product.
  

• IN TODAY'S STUPID MARKETING STRATEGIES: I was at a drugstore the other day; in this case the store name rhymed with tallbreens. As I wandered through the makeup isle looking for a product that would leave my skin flawless, make my face look like Liv Tyler's and make me look like I had lost 80 pounds instantly, I happened across the Loreal isle. The product that caught my eye was the Loreal makeup with the applicator that looks like a paint roller. The name of this product is Loreal True Match Roller. There were several pictures of celebrities holding their respective paint rollers next to their face. However, one in particular captivated me. This one was a picture of Beyonce (who is black, at least last I heard) with her paint roller which was a light beige color as seen here.

True Match? I'm not certain whether to blame Beyonce for trying to be white, or Loreal, who seems to be uncomfortable promoting makeup for black people.

• Well, that does it for today. Thank you for reading and have a day fraught with friendly clowns.
  

sorry about the small letters

I don't know what happened to today's post (below) the writing is tiny. I hope to fix this soon

mostly untrue news 10th edition

• IN TODAY'S FINANCIAL SECTION: We will discuss why you will never retire. First of all, you will never retire because of a mass overpopulation of our species commonly referred to as "baby boomers". Even though those in this group are not still babies, they share some of the same qualities like random drooling and farts make them smile coyly. So what is it about this generation of boomers that means I can't retire? Because there are literally bajillions of them. Even the baby boomers won't be able to live off of social security because the mass of people that are slightly older will have eaten through all available funds. You may ask yourselves, "what am I going to do?"; there are several options to consider. Sale of expendable internal organs always brings a decent price. Also, you may consider getting yourself a refrigerator box, as those are the most roomy. If neither of those options appeal to you, you might want to consider building a nest egg. It is never too late to start one, unless you retire tomorrow, then see previous options. Being an alert reader, you may be asking yourself how this is done. You should be asking this as you are a moron and have no idea how to build a nest egg. There are two incomes we will deal with in this specific chart, shown below:

Available Cash From Various Sources	YOU	BILL GATES
Cash In Hand	3.78	2 billion
Checking Account	201.53	4 Jillion dollars
Savings Account	5.13	30 trillion
Change in the Couch	4.36	ask the maid
Jar of coins you will never roll	216.14	why would anyone keep coins?
Stocks	What?	I own everything
Bonds	Like, Leather?	Like, Leather?
Birthday money from Aunt Helga	10.00 per year	I don't know, we burn it with the yule log

So, as you can see from this chart, Bill Gates has built a decent nest egg over the years, while you sat around drinking beer and will have to recycle soda cans to get through each day. Loser.
Until we can all come up with an efficient way to kill all the baby boomers, we must look to other sources for funds. There are many financial guru's out there who have written many books on saving money which they will charge you upwards of $20.00 to read. One example of such a guru is Suze Orman who looks like this:
As we can tell from this photo, she is very frugal with her money, or rather the money we have given to her so that she can tell us peons how to save money. This seems to have worked well for her. Coincidentally, if you will send $20.99 to Theresa c/o Mostly Untrue News, Hiwassee Virginia, 24347, I can tell you how to save more money than Suze ever thought about saving. Cash only please.
Sadly, the only way to build a nest egg for retirement is to never retire. I realize this makes the point of the nest egg rather stupid, but hey, atleast you'll have something to leave to your family (who never visits). They may even start a huge fight in your honor and the family will become split like the Hatfields and McCoys. That would really be funny. But don't worry about the money they get, the government will get most of it with a cool little thing called "death tax". If you don't pay this tax, the IRS will repossess your burial outfit and coffin, leaving you to decompose in a swamp. These guys aren't messing around. You don't want to enter the afterlife with a tax lien already waiting on you, do you?
As for me I plan to make my children go to work at age 14 and never let them have days off so that I might be able to retire with a little more ease. I have 3 kids, surely that is enough to keep me in the manner to which I have become accustomed.

mostly untrue news 9th edition

• IN TODAY'S ENTERTAINMENT NEWS: WE WILL BE DISCUSSING SOCIETY AND IT'S HYPOCRITICAL VIEWS. According to news sources, Michael Jackson just signed the largest record deal in history, or rather his estate did; (we are assuming the estate did due to the fact that Michael Jackson might currently lack the skills to sign papers). This deal is for a $200 million guaranteed contract with Sony Music Entertainment for 10 projects over seven years, according to a person familiar with the deal. Since the King of Pop died in July, he has sold over 31 million albums. I personally think that it is fantastic that he's sold all of these records and has a new contract for projects, especially since America decided he was a child molester and menace to society. Not many people would have had anything to do with the pre-deceased Michael Jackson, he was a talentless freak with a penchant for little boys. However, post-deceased, Michael Jackson is a collectors item and we all love him again. God bless America.

• IN TODAY'S MORE LIGHTHEARTED NEWS THAT STILL HAS TO DO WITH ENTERTAINMENT, I would like to bring attention to a song that graced my radio waves last night. The song is Does He Love You, sung by Reba Mcentire and Linda Davis. You may be asking yourselves "Is she going to attack Reba?" The short answer is yes. Yes, I know, Reba is one of my favorite singers too, However, in this duet with Linda Davis, both women have belt-it-out power house voices which unfortunately sound almost identical. The singers duel back and forth about why the man loves one instead of the other and vice versa. Having this argument with each other in identical voices just makes Reba sound like she is having a psychotic episode with herself. On the plus side, I find this to be terribly funny and so I really like this song. I think I will go at it alone on my next karaoke night!

• IN TODAY'S UNBELIEVABLE SCHOOL CURRICULUM SECTION: According to Yahoo! news U.S. history textbooks could soon be "flavored heavily with Texas conservatism". What exactly are we talking about here? Here is a list of possible inclusions or rather, exclusions from American textbooks:
  

1. A greater emphasis on “the conservative resurgence of the 1980s and 1990s.” This means not only increased favorable mentions of Schlafly, the founder of the antifeminist Eagle Forum, but also more discussion of the Moral Majority, the Heritage Foundation, the National Rifle Association and Newt Gingrich's Contract With America.
2. A reduced scope for Latino history and culture.
   
3. Changes in specific terminology. Terms that the board’s conservative majority felt were ideologically loaded are being retired. Hence, “imperialism” as a characterization of America’s modern rise to world power is giving way to “expansionism,” and “capitalism” is being dropped in economic material, in favor of the more positive expression “free market.” (The new recommendations stress the need for favorable depictions of America’s economic superiority across the board.) Boy, we Americans do love our euphemisms!
4. A more positive portrayal of Cold War anticommunism.
5. Language that qualifies the legacy of 1960s liberalism. Great Society programs such as Title IX—which provides for equal gender access to educational resources—and affirmative action, intended to remedy historic workplace discrimination against African-Americans, are said to have created adverse “unintended consequences” in the curriculum’s preferred language.
6. Thomas Jefferson no longer included among writers influencing the nation’s intellectual origins. (Really).
   
7. Excision of recent third-party presidential candidates Ralph Nader (from the left) and Ross Perot (from the centrist Reform Party).
8. A recommendation to include country and western music among the nation’s important cultural movements. The popular black genre of hip-hop is being dropped from the same list.
   

I don't know about the rest of you, but I think this just what America needs, why on earth did it take us this long to figure out that promoting anti-feminism, racial intolerance, and country music is the answer to this nation's problems? Now if they could just find a way to get rid of all those other pesky minorities, like gays, lesbians, Chinese, and fans of The Village People, this country really would be worth spending trillions of dollars to defend. By the way if you question anything you hear or read, you will automatically be shot.

• AND FINALLY, IN TODAY'S WOMEN'S ISSUES: I CAN SCREAM LIKE A LITTLE GIRL IF I WANT TO. At approximately 3pm this afternoon, my dutiful, alert cats found a little grey mouse in the living room and decided to pass the time by torturing said mouse. I was advised to let nature take it's course and let the cats kill it and then dispose of it later. I spent most of the afternoon in my room pretending that the holocaust was not happening in my livingroom. By evening I decided it was ok to come out. The two cats ( two out of three of my main cats, Isabelle and Sam) had obviously lost interest, so I assumed it either hid or was under the couch, entertainment center or wardrobe decomposing. During my dinner (spaghetti), I heard a bit of chaos happening in my son's room. Alas, the mouse had not escaped, but was somehow let live long enough to be a plaything for my backup cat, Tinkerbell. Tinkerbell and George (George is a main cat), were playing who can let go of the mouse and then get it again. This time I really couldn't stand it so thinking quick, alert thoughts, I went to the kitchen and pulled about a hundred sheets of paper towels off the roll, wadded it up and went in to get the mouse. Tinkerbell was not amused at my antics which basically consisted of me chasing the cat who would occasionally drop the mouse to which I would screech "oh shit", while the main cat and backup cat fought for mouse domination. Eventually human intellect won over feline ingenuity and I got the little mouse, who seemed to be in good shape, considering his busy afternoon. Feeling good about saving one of God's creatures from an untimely demise, I opened the kitchen door and threw him out into the yard. Unfortunately my aim was a little off and instead of throwing him into a pile of soft grass, the little mouse smashed into a large rock. The moral to this story? When it's your time, it's your time. Sorry, unknown mouse, I hope your small life served some sort of purpose.

Well, that does it for today, go have a safe day and buckle up. (sometimes I like to give people practical advise. I feel I've done my part)

mostly untrue news 8th edition

• IN TODAY'S POLITICAL NEWS:

I don't think there's anything else to be said...

• ANYWAY... IN TODAY'S NARCISSISTIC CELEBRITY NEWS: Lindsay Lohan is filing a law suit because - follow me on this - someone else has dared to name a baby Lindsay. According to sources at Yahoo! news "Actress and professional party girl Lindsay Lohan sued E-Trade for $100 million over a commercial that features a baby named Lindsay. Ms. Lohan contends that the ad, in which the baby Lindsay is referred to as a "milkaholic," capitalizes on her name and is clearly based on her. Ms. Lohan's lawyer contends that her client has "elevated 'Lindsay' to the same sort of one-off recognition status as 'Madonna' or 'Cher". When asked to comment, Lindsay slurred to me "take that you *@!#&% baby", just before she passed out over a nearby toilet. I felt some sense of obligation when Lindsay (no longer Lohan, just Lindsay) asked me to hold her hair back; I only felt this obligation in fear of being sued for millions of dollars should I let her now, jet black, locks fall into her regurgitated alcohol.
• IN TODAY'S JOB NEWS: According to a column written by small business owner, Jay Goltz, who ownes five small businesses in Chicago, he has found an unprecedented way to have happy employees: "I fired the unhappy people". Well, I for one applaud Mr. Goltz. I mean, I don't think unhappy people should be let out of the house, let alone let into a business, small or otherwise. This approach has worked in the past, if you readers will recall. In the 1930's through the '40's, one guy decided he really only liked blond haired, blue eyed people, who share his beliefs. Unfortunately, Jews, ethnic Poles, Romani, Soviet civilians, Soviet prisoners of war, people with disabilities, homosexuals, Jehovah's Witnesses, and other political and religious opponents really weren't this guy's style. Being entitled to "his (or her) opinion", old Adolph got rid of all those irritating people. I'm sure it must have been a lot less stressful at work once all those bothersome people were gone. Early Christians also shared an opinion of the type of environment they want to be surrounded in, which didn't include non-Christians, Indians, poor people, sun worshipers, midwives, medicine men, witches, or anybody that was just minding their own business. Finally they were able to get rid of a bunch of opponents too and everyone was the better for it. So what does Jay Goltz have to say about all this? He states "This is only my opinion. I don't have a Ph.D., an M.B.A., or even an economics degree. What I do have is a happy company. And that makes me happy. Now I know some people argue that business is about making money, and not everyone has to be happy. That is also an opinion. Everyone has a right to his or her opinion. When you own a company, you also have the right to surround yourself with the people you choose". With profound wisdom like that, who can go wrong. I think there are some good morals to this story. 1.You should be happy. 2. Jay Goltz likes to be happy. 3. If you are employed by Jay Goltz, be happy or you will be punished. 4. Everyone has a right to his or her opinions, but this is Jay Goltz opinion, and he has a right to his opinion; be happy or else.
• IN TODAY'S "I'M A GENIUS" SECTION: According to an article by the Associated Press, " Authorities said a 30-year-old-man showed up so drunk for his sentencing for drunken driving that he missed his hearing and now faces even more time behind bars. Authorities said Jason Botos was driven to the Papillion courthouse on Thursday by his father, who needed help from deputies to get his son out of the vehicle. Prosecutor Ben Perlman said Botos was so drunk he couldn't attend the hearing, so the judge issued a warrant. Deputies arrested Botos in the parking lot". Personally I think they should give this guy a break. I mean, after all, he DID show up for court. I am sure he was not specifically told not to be drunk in court. AND, Mr. Botos seemed to have learned a lesson about drunk driving all on his own; he let his dad drive the car this time. Come on people, where is the justice in this? Jay Goltz will be defending Mr Botos in court where "everyone better be happy, or else".
  
• AND FINALLY, IN TODAY'S WOMEN'S ISSUES: DON'T BE A VICTIM. This story has been brought to my attention by alert reader Tena Coleman-Dupree. This story shocked me in ways too numerous to mention. A local woman went to see a new doctor. Unfortunately, it seems that the doctor was a sleeze ball. According to the woman, the doctor, who had commented on how beautiful she was, asked her to remove her skirt and he started rubbing her thighs. He asked her if she knew what he was doing and she answered yes, he was checking for abnormalities. After a minute, he told her to take off her shirt and bra. The doctor started rubbing the womans breasts and asked her if she knew what he was doing and she answered yes, he was checking for cancer. At this point, the woman began to feel uncomfortable. What happens next is not intended for underage readers. Next the doctor asked her to take off her panties. Once she had, this scandalous doctor started having sex with her. At that point he asked her if she knew what he was doing and she replied "yes, getting herpes, that's why I'm here".
  
• Y'all have a groovy day filled with purposeful enjoyment and merriment. Hurry! Go! There isn't much time left!
  

mostly untrue news 7th edition

IN TODAY'S COLUMN: What Happened To School?

I bring this question up today because it is personally affecting me at this moment; actually it is affecting my daughter at this moment. Out of concern for her privacy and the fact that if I embarrass her she'll stab me to death with a butter knife, my daughter will be henceforth referred to as "not my daughter". So, not my daughter woke up this morning with menstrual cramps. Please understand when I say cramps I am not saying this lightly. Not my daughter has such bad cramps she throws up and gets dizzy and feels like she is being disemboweled. I have personally never witnessed anyone else who gets these types of cramps. I told her to take some Midol and petted her as best as I could. Now here is the issue: Midol lasts all of maybe four hours. She will still be in school when the cramp demon returns. What to do? She is not allowed to have any medicine WHATSOEVER in her possession, even, get this, cough drops. Yes I know this because we went through a cold and she would cough so hard it would make her vomit, however cough drops are not allowed in school either. As of right now, the cramp demon has returned and the school has called for us to PICK HER UP. Ok... if she had some Midol with her she could finish a productive day in school and might stand a chance of learning something. So, they effectively toss her out of school for being a menstruating female because even the "school nurse" is nothing more than a glorified babysitter who is not allowed to dispense even asprin (or cough drops). This approach to dealing with female reproductive problems causes one more problem for not my daughter. Children are allowed only so many absences per year ( I think it's ten). Thanks to ex-President Bush, she is counted absent for the rest of the day. Well that won't work for the schools because they get funding based on attendance. If they don't get their funding, the parent gets screwed in the form of a court subpoena that says the parent must show up in court and explain to a mummified judge why he or she should not throw you in jail for the rest of your miserable life for being such a crappy parent and letting your kid spread loser germs all over the school (when you bother to make them attend).
True story time? Once upon a time this very same school called us to pick up our son who attends this same school because he seemed to have the flu (he didn't attend because he had the flu, they called us because he had the flu). We picked him up from school, took him to the doctor and sure enough, he had swine flu. The very next day, the school called to inform us that my son was NOT in school and could we explain ourselves? We politely reminded them that they were the ones who sent him home just yesterday. They agreed to remembering something like that; then continued to call everyday my son was absent, wanting an explanation. I really wanted to have my son sneeze in several envelopes and then mail them to official school personnel.
All that to say that this morning before not my daughter left the house I actually suggested she sneak Midol to school in her pockets or something and take them in a closed bathroom stall. Being the voice of reason, she balked at the idea as getting caught would get her expelled. I figure if they (schools) would expel a kindergarten girl for having nail clippers on her person and expel a boy for eating a ham sandwich at the same table with a Jewish friend of his (I am not making that up); they might start World War Three over the use of Midol.
I think the moral to this story is if you are stupid enough to have a daughter and let her live through puberty then be prepared to go to jail you parent scum.
Thank you for listening and have a day free of felonious activity.

mostly untrue news 6th edition

• IN TODAY'S "GUYS CAN BE REAL CREEPS" SECTION: Serial Killer wins on dating game-show. (CNN) -- Before he was a convicted serial killer, Rodney Alcala was a winning bachelor on "The Dating Game" in 1978. " Alcala, who already had been convicted for the 1968 rape of an 8-year-old girl, was the first contestant to be introduced in the game-show episode", according to CNN reporter Gabriel Falcon. Alcala won the game but later was rejected by the girl. Which just goes to show that some women can be a bit shallow and overly judgmental. Within months after the game-show, Alcala abducted and murdered a twelve year old girl; later he would be found guilty of killing four women and one child. Apparently the rejection of a game show contestant was really hard on him. I'm certain that had the girl gone on the date with Alcala, he would have turned out to be something nice, like an orthodontist. I think we have all learned a lesson from this story... I'm just not sure what it is.
  

• IN TODAY'S BAD SONGS LIST: I'm currently listening to Seether, of the hard rock genre, singing Careless Whisper. You know, "I'm never gonna dance again/ cause guilty feet have got no rhythm/ Though I know you're not a fool/ it's easy to pretend... This song was sappy and hard enough to listen to in 1984 when George Michael crooned his way through 18 rounds of the chorus over the wailing of a saxophone. Admittedly the Seether version of this song sounds better, however it loses some of it's syrupy emotional turmoil when growled over electric guitars and punk rhythms. The only hard thing to imagine is the band's lead singer Shaun Morgan, who looks like this: could be persuaded to dance with anyone unless she has a penchant for headbanging; which should not be a problem for guilty feet, due to limited space in a mosh pit. I applaud the effort though and hope to soon hear Black Sabbath's remake of Beauty and the Beast (Disney version).

• IN TODAY'S CELEBRITY GOSSIP: The singers of Naughty by Nature became ok with O.P.P. In a statement from their PR spokesman the group has decided that "getting down wit'"Other Peoples Property/Pussy/Penis is a good idea as it promotes tolerance and acceptance.
  

• Fred Fairbrass of Right Said Fred is taking a more humble approach these days. Since the song, I'm Too Sexy came out, Fred has been berated due to the fact that he is not all that sexy. He admits he was actually never too sexy for his shirt, cat, car or Milan, he does still consider himself too sexy for a number of things including his elevator and parking tickets. Critics everywhere are hotly debating whether Fred is too sexy for Japan, citing that though he may not be too sexy for Japan he might be too tall for Japan. Fred disputes the critics that are everywhere; his argument for being too sexy for Japan is that he "saw it once on TV and definitely concluded he was too sexy for that country". Japan has offered to fly Fred to the country and compete for the "too sexy" title but Fred only laughed and said he had nothing to prove. Japan called him a "booger nosed scaredy cat".

• AND FINALLY, IN TODAY'S WOMEN'S ISSUES: I can't be the only female to notice that around 30 years into ones life, one starts having dysfunctional body parts. I only bring this up because this phenomenon is causing me personal discomfort. I have had a cough since January that has progressively gotten worse. I am now having to constantly wear sanitary pads because now when I cough, I end up with urinary leakage on my personal body. To say the least, this problem can cause discomfort in the area of personal scent. I cannot imagine why all those muscles that are affected by Kegal exercises are not doing their job. If any alert readers out in the big world wide web has an explanation for this, I would love to hear it. For now I suppose I will have to settle with a Sam's Club bag of Depends and hope against hope that urinary leakage will be the only problem my traitorous body treats me to this month.

Thank you for reading and have a day. (I don't believe in putting undue pressure on you to have a "great" one).

mostly untrue news 5th edition

• TODAY IN POLITICAL NEWS: According to reports from actual news sources, President Obama is striving towards health-care reform for the nation. How does he coax congress into seeing things his way? Apparently with well timed political humor; a joke that this health-care reform will happen even if "it kills him". Mr. Obama assures all Americans that he has many more ironical puns up his sleeve. So how is President Obama assuring Congress that he has the perfect plan for government run health-care? He asks lawmakers to "trust him". Well, I don't know about you but I'm certainly relieved that at least the president has thought this issue through and has a definite plan of execution. Not one to be one-upped by a mere presidential pun, Representative Joe Courtney, D-Conn. said "A big issue for the House is putting suspenders with belts on the plan to ensure we don't get left holding the bag with just the Senate bill by itself". (Don't ask me, I just type the quotes). All in all this reporter will be able to sleep a little better tonight knowing that the belt loops of health-care will be held up by a bag of suspenders even if someone has to kill the president to get it done. Trust me.

• TODAY IN WOMEN'S REALLY BIZARRE ISSUES: According to the Associated Press, in OWENSBORO, Ky. – A woman in jail for public intoxication was accused of assaulting a jailer by squirting breast milk at her. WYMT-TV reported that a 31-year-old woman was arrested Thursday on a misdemeanor charge of public intoxication. But as she was changing into an inmate uniform, she squirted breast milk into the face of a female deputy who was with her. The woman now faces a felony charge of third degree assault on a police officer. Her bond was set at $10,000. Let this be a lesson to all you crazy baby mammas: never assault an officer of the law with life giving breast milk or you too may be jailed and made to sit in time out and give enourmous sums of money to the government. Even if it's an "accident" you may be put under lock and key the rest of your miserable lives until all your breast milk has dried up and you are no longer thought to be a danger to the lactose intolerant general public. I wish I was making this story up.

• THE LATEST IN THE WORLD OF FASHION NEWS: Lanvin designer Alber Elbaz showed the world the latest in all things African with his new fall-winter 2010/2011 fashion show in Paris on Friday, March 5th. His daring dark African collection was modeled for the world by Caucasian stick insects and one token African American stick insect who made in through the entire show without being killed off. All models wore matching black blunt cut wigs except for the black model who was sadly stuck with her own closely shaved crop of hair. I have a dream that one day all runway stick insects will be united in completely matched hair wigs. Thank you.

• AND FINALLY: This reporter has made a recent discovery that has led to a non-pc attitude towards certain regions of this United States of America. The region I am referring to is called, simply, West Virginia. I am not saying by any means that all people living in West Virginia could stand to have a few more branches put on the family tree; I am only referring to the ones hired by the state. I am not making this true story up. Yesterday I was invited to a baby shower in Bluefield West Virginia. Along the way, I made a phone call to the Princeton Welcome Center and asked a very helpful young lady what time the welcome center opens and closes for business BECAUSE I wanted to go into a gift shop that was in that very center. The helpful phone attendant gave me the business hours of 9am to 8pm everyday of the year (except one day when they are closed. I don't know what that day is). I repeated back to her the hours of operation and she confirmed them and then I told them to my friend with the helpful phone assistant still on the line. She confirmed them again with an assurance that she was working in that very welcome center as we were speaking. Relived that I would have time to drive by there on my way back home I hung up the phone with a calm assurance floating around my insides. Around the time of 6:30-ish pm that very evening I made a trip to that very welcome center. All the doors were locked and had a crooked sign on them that the hours of operation were from 8am to 6:30pm. I found a janitor who was cleaning the toilets and asked him about the hours of operation. He informed me that the center closes at 6:30 and the gift shop had already been closed about 30 or 40 minutes now. I did a little math in my head and figured out the approxamate closing time of the gift shop was 6:00pm or thereabouts. All this frustration has led me to make a plea for justice. If anyone can locate the friendly phone associate from Princeton Welcome Center, please pull out her remaining tooth and have it shipped to me on a silver platter via next day delivery. I will gladly accept all charges. Thank you and have a ok day with little or no personal death involved. I hope you appreciate the extra effort I put into this days sign off.
  

mostly untrue news 4th edition

• TODAY IN WOMEN'S ISSUES:

Today's column will only deal with women's issues, because it's my blog and I can do what I want. Let me just send a big shout out to Eve and her insatiable appetite for forbidden fruit, or the moon goddess that lets a woman cleanse herself each month or whoever is responsible for the fact that once a month (as in right now) I eat Motrin and chocolate and greasy burgers until I'm ready to puke.
However, today's column also deals with the junk each woman has to put up with on any given day. For example, women are told that we must look at ourselves and realize we are not only fat, but ugly too. We have, for example, fat ankles. Honestly, no one, male or female has ever commented on my ankles; however if we wear a skirt that makes us look like we have fat ankles we will take the skirt, douse it in gasoline or fingernail polish remover and set it on fire. Same thing about our butts. NO ONE ever looks at their butt and says to themselves "I have the most awsome butt ever! I'd say as far as butts go, this is the finest one I have ever laid eyes on. In fact I wish my head were on the other way round so I could just look at my butt all day". Big butts are only good if they are round and stick out and possibly able to hold a soda can; black women have a patent on this kind of butt. Skinny butts are awful because they just sag out of the bathing suit they are in. However skinny butts are more favorable than big fat, flat butts, which seem to be the average American White Female Butt. But Lord, do we obsess over them. Does this pair of jeans make my butt look big? Well, yes unless you don't want it to, then maybe not; depends on which big you're going for...
And accessories, we have to accessorize our big butts and fat ankles and droopy shoulders and short, stubby hands. Let's see, there are bracelets, bangles, charm bracelets, anklets, toe rings, earrings for pierced ears, earrings for non-pierced ears, lobe earrings, navel rings, lip rings, tongue rings, brow rings, cocktail rings, diamond rings, everyday rings, handbags, purses, backpacks, backpack purses, shoulder bags, arm bands, head bands, barrettes, pony-tail holders, scrunchies, combs, hair bands, clips, bows and ribbons. While we are on hair, let's talk about all the things we do to our hair, like relaxers, perms, waves, color rinses, hair dyes, frostings, streaks, highlights, bleaches, curling solutions, straightening solutions, hair spray, hair mist, hair gel, hair texturizer, hair volume sprays, anti-frizz sprays, hair oils, hair placenta treatments, and hair replacement treatments; all of which we don't want to get on our faces because faces have: day cream, night cream, exfoliating cream, wrinkle cream, anti-aging serum, puffy eye cream, skin tone evening cream, peach scrubs, exfoliating masks, wrinkle masks, tension masks, cucumber masks and all made with SPF 400. Over all that we put on primer, foundation, powder, loose powder, eye shadow primer, eye shadow, lip liner, eye liner, mascara, lip stick, lip gloss, shimmer powder, concealer, yellow stick, green stick and top coat.

So that we will look natural.

Of course not everything has to be natural, like our fingernails and toenails. They can be pink, red, french manicured, french pedicured, mauve, sinful red, ruby red, devil red, sensuous red, spring red, sunshine pink, kiss me pink, tickled pink, bubble gum pink, candy pink, petal pink, flirty pink, purple, flirty purple, alluring purple... you get the idea. Before that though, our hands and feet are scrubbed, exfoliated, tenderized, soaked, grated, clipped and sanded. After that we put on a coat of nail strengthener, a bottom coat of clear paint, color, top coat and an anti-chip coat.
After which, we dress ourselves in panties, thongs, period panties, granny panties, stomach holding in panties, camisoles, bras, wonder bras, underwires, work out bras, socks, stockings, pantyhose, garters, garter belts, corsets, skinny jeans, fat day jeans, flare leg jeans, boot cut jeans, capris, shorts, short shorts, daisy dukes, culottes, baggy jeans, sweaters, t-shirts, sleeveless shirts, v-necks, crew cuts, square cuts, off the shoulder shirts, see through shirts, dress shirts, casual dress shirts, casual shirts, sloppy shirts, tube tops, skirts, mini skirts, low rise mini skirts, professional skirts, business suits, casual suits, dresses, Sunday dresses, sun dresses, Easter dresses, Christmas dresses, party dresses, wrap arounds, prom dresses and ball gowns.
After which we must find the perfect shoes from: tennis shoes, running shoes, walking shoes, sneakers, hiking boots, cowgirl boots, knee hi boots, ankle boots, thigh hi boots, mid-calf boots, boots with fur, winter boots, rubber boots, sandals with a heel, sandals without a heel, stillettos, pumps, flats, open toes, closed toes, shoes that show toe cleavage, lace ups, slip ons, flip flops and patent leather.


My only question is WHO came up with this. There is no possible way to look like the praying mantis-like creatures that saunter down the runways. Don't we have enough to worry about just trying to get dressed and hygienic? Let's not forget to shave our underarms, legs, bikini line, vagina, butt crack (of the imperfect butt), and hot waxes.

Yet we do all of these things to ourselves and don't even like the way we look. NO WOMAN likes the way she looks. No celebrity, no fashion model, no housewife, no career woman, no teenage girl, no mother and no daughter. So, you might ask, why do we do all this stuff in the first place and the answer is... I have no idea. Rest assured though, that tonight when I take off my makeup with a pre-made makeup cleansing wipe that costs roughly 30 dollars per month (that's the cheap one), I will lay down; I will think about the chocolate chip cookies and two slices of pizza I ate today, curse myself for being weak, look at the dress I am trying to loose weight to fit into and sigh; promising tomorrow I will do better. I will do this because fashion dictates it and fashion is a bitch.

mostly untrue news 3rd edition

• FIRST IN TODAY'S NEWS: This reporter is trying to come up with better titles for her posts. Helpful and tasteless comments would be appreciated by alert readers.

• IN ENTERTAINMENT/SPORTS NEWS: According to a recent post on Yahoo! news anyone can make fun of flamboyantly gay male figure skaters AS LONG AS the jokes are ORIGINAL. Here is the article for for further discussion:
  

Canadian commentators fail to cool it with Johnny Weir jokes

By Neate Sager

If Scotty Lago has to excuse himself from the Olympic scene for buffoonish behavior, maybe broadcasters should have to, too.

The Canadian Press reports that the Quebec Council of Gays and Lesbians is going to make a complaint about French-language RDS, whose commentators Alain Goldberg and Claude Mailhot decided to go for the gold for trading in stale Johnny Weir jokes.

The pair called Weir "a bad example" and suggested he go through gender testing, like the runner Caster Semenya. After all, in no way is the latter a touchy subject.

RDS's apology addressed "tactless comments on the appearance and manner of a figure skater." The crux of the grievance, though, was the comparison to Semenya, the Canadian Press says:

[T]he mea culpas are insufficient, according to council president Steve Foster.

"They only apologized for the comments they made on his outfit," he said Saturday. "We hadn't even asked for an apology for those remarks. It's the rest of the comments: on his masculinity, his femininity, the fact he should skate as a woman."

Who knows what makes professional broadcasters think racial or sexual humor is acceptable? Being able to read off a teleprompter doesn't make you Russell Peters, pal. For the record, here is how the wire service reported it:

"This may not be politically correct," Mailhot said during the segment, in which Weir ... was shown sporting a semi-sheer, pink-and-black costume he designed himself.

"But do you think he lost points due to his costume and his body language?"

Goldberg replied that Weir's feminine style may reflect badly on other male figure skaters.

"They'll think all the boys who skate will end up like him," he said. "It sets a bad example."

Well, at least Mailhot qualified it may be inappropriate.

"In the earlier RDS coverage of Weir, Goldberg and Mailhot also brought up South African runner Caster Semenya, who was forced to undergo gender testing following her 2009 win at the world track and field championships in Germany.

"We should make him pass a gender test at this point," Goldberg said, and Mailhot then jokingly suggested Weir should compete in the women's competition.

Brutal. The point is that broadcasters don't have the right to assume everyone watching agrees with their own strict definition of manhood. Stick to sports.

"Hockey Night in Canada" had a representative of EGALE come on the show last year for a discussion after Mike Milbury made his "pansification" remarks. Perhaps RDS should think about granting equal time.

Meantime, let's have a call for a total Johnny Weir joke moratorium. Not because the jokes are politically incorrect, but because they're stunningly unoriginal. Move on.

Come on you nasty Canadian's get your own jokes in. At this very moment Johnny Weir humorists are patenting their material in an effort to keep money in their pockets and original jokes on the minds of all Canadian commentators.

• IN TODAY'S KARMA SECTION: Nasty Canadian's get what they deserve:

Canada really feels Hollingsworth's hurt

By Neate Sager

Tears are not enough.

Much of Canada, judging by a Twitter-based instapoll, wanted to give Mellisa Hollingsworth a shoulder to cry on after she fell prey to Whistler Sliding Centre's notorious Turn 2, lost time and dropped from a silver-medal position to fifth in women's skeleton Friday night at the Whistler Sliding Centre.

"It's really hard," a teary Hollingworth told CTV. "I feel like I've let my entire country down. Obviously my friends and my family, I know they love me regardless but everyone in VANOC, Own The Podium, my entire federation, they've done so much for me. I just didn't do it."

What a way to end the first week for Canada, pending Jon Montgomery's result in men's skeleton.

It was compounded by coming early on a Friday evening with more people at home watching, expecting a medal that would help the country inch a little closer to the top of the medal count. It followed the Canadian Olympic Committee backpedalling to scale down expectations. In other words, Hollingsworth was set up, and then she made a couple big mistakes, which lets people believe whatever they wish about her.

So, it would probably misread the room to play up one irony. Some creeky Brits tweaked Canada earlier in the week for being more focused on winning the most medals than hosting the competition. Now Canadian fans' solace, notwithstanding any official protests about her helmet, is being happy for Amy Williams, who won Great Britain's first Winter Games individual gold medal in 30 years.

Nate Silver still believes the gold medal race isn't over, since medals are still up for grabs in curling, hockey and both long- and short-track speedskating, Canada's strengths. Take a little time for the zing-go-the-heartstrings part. It was a shame for Hollingsworth, but so it goes in a sport where one inch one way or the other is everything.

Yes, apparently someone tricked Canada into losing because they cannot come up with their own Johnny Weir jokes. All this reporter can say is MUWAHAHAHA!

• IN TODAY'S SLEEZY GOLF NEWS:
  

  Another golf apology

  PGA Tour boss Tim Finchem took the blame for not briefing players about Tiger Woods.

I only bring this up because, follow me closely here, if I hear one more word about Tiger Woods and his briefs or lack of, I will light myself on fire. Yes, it is an odd way to get a point across, but something must be done.

• AND FINALLY, IN WOMEN'S ISSUES: This actually made a spot on the news, seriously, I'm not making this up

Question: What is a cougar?

The short answer: A cougar is an older woman who is primarily attracted to and has sex with with significantly younger men.

Answer: The most commonly-accepted definition of a cougar is a woman 40 years of age or older who exclusively pursues very young men. The onset of the cougar years is hotly debated. Some feel that a cougar can be as young as 35, but women of this age would not be viewed as cougars unless their sexual conquests were no older than 25; the ten-year age difference seems to be an unspoken but accepted minimum between partners.

I, for one, am glad this "hotly debated" subject has finally come to a head and someone has found the answer. I had considered cougaring but realized I would have to date someone between the age of 10-20 years old, and decided I have all the children I can deal with at the moment. Male participants in this hot debate heartily approve of this hot debate but ask if they could please hotly debate in jell-o.