Top Ten Most Likely Types to Create Obnoxious Motrin Advertisement

Rather than nervously await the almost inevitable pink-slip, some advertising crony up and committed career suicide. Ah, just in time for the holidays.

I mean, who else would create a Motrin ad campaign vilifying baby carriers as hernia inducing torture chambers causing cuckoo bird crazy eyes to sprout on their child-cradling fashion victims?



Only a person without enough guts to ask for a long vacation. Or these top ten most likely types to create an obnoxious Motrin ad:


10. Self-hating embittered shrew who despises children, their cutesy noises, and smelly diaper leaks.

9. Neanderthal caveman from the popular GEICO ads.

8. Womanizing, power lusting, money grubbing playah with a madonna-slut complex.

7. New intern whose only creative talent is pleasuring the boss.

6. Aging hunchback who had her tubes tied about an hour after giving birth.

5. Perfectionist type-A super-achiever who brings home the bacon, fries it up in the pan, and never lets you forget you're a man.

4. Doormat push-over who can be talked into anything, including wearing a sling carrier to hold someone else's twenty-five pound baby during a trip to the mall.

3. Self-absorbed socially clueless ADHD person too busy maneuvering an unforgiving and perilous world.

2. Hermaphrodite.

1. Man living at home with his mother, seven cats, and one helluva post-nasal drip.

Is it too late to short sell JNJ?

Wassup Video Revisited

My how times change.

A mere two years (give or take -- the second video says 8 years but I think that's a reference to the Bush Administration) between the first Wassup video and Wassup 2008 have seen intensified fighting in Iraq, collapse of the housing market, escalating rates of foreclosure, rampantly inflated gas prices, marked downturn in consumer spending, a notable increase in unemployment rates, meltdown on Wall Street, federal bank take overs, and decreasing values for the stock market and 401Ks.

Oh, and did I mention the $700M bailout for rich people?

No need to get pithy. Someone gunning for Obama-Biden made one of the funniest videos of the campaign season. Compare and contrast - you'll see what I mean.

Jodie Marsh Hogs Red Carpet Roundup

A fourth judge will join American Idol when the program returns in January, 2009. Kara DioGuardi appeared in New York for a promotional event with fellow judges Paula Abdul, Simon Cowell, and Randy Jackson. According to producer Simon Fuller, the format change is supposed to bring "a new level of energy and excitement to the show."


The 65th Annual Venice Film Festival kicked off with a screening of "Burn After Reading," a dark comedy from the madcap Coen Brothers featuring George Clooney, Brad Pitt, Tilda Swinton, and Frances McDormand. The farcical spy movie is one of only five American entries competing for the Golden Lion, the Festival's top honor for best picture. Organizers blame fallout from last year's writers strike.


Brendan Fraser greeted fans at the premiere of The Mummy: Tomb of the Dragon Emperor in Sydney, Australia. The movie, starring Fraser, Jet Li, Maria Bello, John Hannah, Michelle Yeoh and Aussie actor Luke Ford, opens down under on September 11th.


Daylight Robbery premiered at the UK's Apollo West End Cinema with reality star Jodie Marsh hogging the limelight. Actually, that's not all she was hogging. The film follows a group of English football fans using the World Cup as a bank robbery cover.


Star power is in full bloom at The Democratic National Convention. Sighted in Denver: Annette Bening, Spike Lee, Kal Penn, Cyndi Lauper, Anne Hathaway, Sheryl Crow, Danny Glover, John Legend, Dave Matthews, Pete Wentz, Ben Affleck, Alan Cumming, Tim Daly, Josh Lucas, Susan Sarandon, Rachel Leigh Cook, and stars of The GRAMMY's Rock The Convention Concert.



American Idol host Ryan Seacrest rang the New York Stock Exchange closing bell on Tuesday. NYSE Euronext Executive Vice President Larry Leibowitz joined Seacrest for the final gavel. Stocks ended mixed on concerns about the path of Hurricane Gustav, offsetting a better than expected reading on consumer confidence.

50 Cent Files Lawsuit Tellling Taco Bell Why It Should Pay More

50 Cent is well on his way to setting a new world record.

Not for the number of lawsuits filed by the same sorry you-know-what rapper claiming infringement of intellectual property rights. Naw, Fiddy is about to grab the brass ring for all-time record number of news organizations running the same sorry you-know-what AP story describing his lame lawsuit against Taco Bell.

Just goes to show no one really wants to spend any time doing an in-depth piece on this poo.

In fact, his lawsuit against Yum Brands, Inc. (YUM), owner of the popular Taco Bell chain, may go down in history as one of the most sorry you-know-what meritless pieces of groundless drivel ever filed in a U.S. District Court. Can't wait to see the fallout from this one and just hoping those Yummy suits know how to file a super-sized counterclaim for utterly baseless blather.

I mean, how many times am I supposed to read,

50 Cent has sued Taco Bell, claiming the fast-food restaurant chain is using his name without permission in advertising that asks him to call himself 99 Cent.

The rapper says in a federal lawsuit filed Wednesday that the Mexican-themed chain features him in a print ad asking him to change his name to 79 Cent, 89 Cent or 99 Cent. His real name is Curtis Jackson.

The rapper's court papers claim the ad is part of Taco Bell's "Why Pay More?" campaign, which promotes items for under a dollar, including Cinnamon Twists for 79 cents, Crunchy Tacos for 89 cents and Bean Burritos for 99 cents. The papers say the Irvine, Calif.-based company sent a bogus letter requesting the name change to the news media but not to the rapper.

without going lollipop bonkers?

Thank heaven for a slight amount of originality.

If anyone in the world has actually seen the offending advertisement, they're doing an amazing job of keeping it off the Internet. I can't say for certain, but I'm willing to lay odds it's in the style of other publicized open letters, none of which could easily be characterized as an unauthorized advertisment. As long as the ad didn't contain Fiddy's likeness or copyrighted material, Yummy is in the clear.

As for providing a copy of the open letter to news outlets before sending it off to Fiddy, what's the harm? Does he really think that's going to prove Taco Bell didn't intend to make good on its offer? That they were staging a sly publicity stunt?

Uh, yeah, good luck with that argument. Sorry, but it isn't going to fly. I wouldn't be surprised if the judge laughed Fiddy's sorry you-know-what straight out of court.

Oooo. Four million dollars claimed, shakedown for one. He must be down to his last "fiddy" cents if he's going down this lane. And the ridicule he claims is everywhere on the Internet? Let's just say it's less about Taco Bell using his image without permission and more about his sorry you-know-what performances at rich kids' Bar Mitzvahs and sorry you-know-what albums with the same tired you-know-what lyrics. Fiddy has milked getting shot so many times even his fans are sick of listening to him. In other words, his fans were calling him a sellout long before Taco Bell came along.

Loss of his fan base, disappointing album sales, a suspicious fire, massive legal bills connected to the controversy with his baby momma. A culmination of problems like this could easily take its toll.

Fiddy should have made good on his vow to leave the recording business rather than become fodder for the 'bloids. I almost feel sorry for him, then get angry thinking about his lawsuit clogging up the court system.

Fiddy's odds of winning this lawsuit are so astronimically low as to make me question the motives of his legal team. Lawsuits like this give lawyers a bad name. Principled lawyers would have talked their client out of such nonsense, but then nothing surprises me when it comes to celebrities.

I'm not into fast food so it took a short while to get up to speed, but from what I can see, a fast food rap video caught wildfire a couple years back. Since then, hordes of aspiring rappers have taken their lyrics to the street, pulling into drive-through lines and rapping away. Taco Bell capitalized on the craze by crafting a "Why Pay More" ad campaign and reducing the cost of certain menu items to under a dollar.

Smart marketing or foreshadowing SNAFU?

Some suit whose job is probably now on the line ratcheted up the ad campaign to create more buzz. An open letter to down and out Fiddy was a win-win idea with virtually no downside. Fiddy's career would have benefited. On the other hand, waves of negativity had already rippled through the blogosphere, charging the ad campaign with racial insensitivity. At that point, leaving well enough alone might have been a good idea, but corporate is not the type to sit on its laurels.

The First Amendment protects a published open letter that doesn't otherwise infringe on intellectual property rights. Even then Fiddy's claims might be difficult to prove, especially alleged damages of four million dollars. If for some crazy reason this lawsuit moves forward, 50 Cent can expect to lose a lot more in lawyer fees than he could ever expect to gain.

To illustrate the lawsuit's frivolity, I'll leave you with a slew of videos mimicking the popular spoof that likely started it all. If Fiddy thinks Taco Bell's "Why Pay More" campaign was somehow modeled after him or his rap music, maybe it's because his sorry you-know-what lawyers couldn't tell him apart from the guy in this Burger King video.

You know how them gangsta rappers all look 'like.

ORIGINAL EBAUMS WORLD SPOOF

TACO BELL

WENDY'S

KFC

WHITE CASTLE

McDONALDS

ARBY'S

Update: It boggles my mind how many news organizations are still reporting this lawsuit using the same boring AP story. One blogger at last provided useful links to the actual lawsuit and trademark information. Kudos to Corpreform, a nice play on words.

Trademark infringement is a specialized area of law. Nuances are many. Still, I have not changed my opinion. This lawsuit is likely a thinly disguised ploy for publicity, an infuriatingly unnecessary clog in the court system. Trademark does not necessarily require prior permission to publicize words in an issued mark. The manner in which the words are used is key. That is where 50 Cent's legal team went down the mistaken path.

Yes, Fiddy has the rights to a mark that includes the words "50" and "Cent," but that does not preclude people from using the printed words "50 Cent" in a normal manner. Only the mark itself is protected, and believe me, there is a difference. Otherwise, every person in the world would trademark their name or stage name, requiring prior permission from anyone wanting to use said name in a third party manner. See how ridiculous?

To date, I have not seen a reprint of the original print advertisement, but would guess we're still referring only to the letter reviewed by reporters. In that case the lawsuit is frivolous as panned and the sooner kicked out of court the better.

Rolling Stone Perks Francis Bean

Saw this bite-sized nugget at Celebrity Smack and started feeling a prickly tingling in the back of neck.

For starters, Cobain Jr.'s stark blue eye peering out from wavy brunette locks is unnerving, like the little bugger might suddenly decide to reach out from the computer screen and rip my soul clean out of my body. Remember The Ring and Ring Two? Scary.

Don't mean to detract from this news story (if you could call it that). I'm just saying that lipid blue eyeball in a meadow of dark black mascara creeps me out.

Rumors are circulating about candy-eyed 15-year old Francis Bean Cobain flaunting her celebrity pedigree at Rolling Stone magazine. Someone with an axe to grind says the daughter of heavy metal rocker Courtney Love and the late Kurt Cobain isn't doing her share of drudge work despite having landed a coveted summer intern position.

According to Page Six, insiders say "she doesn't get coffee for anyone . . . calls in sick all the time and wears funny outfits."

Oh, the horror. Rock 'n roll royalty who basically doesn't need a job acts like she owns the place and gets funky. I'm with the Smacker on this one, those outfits would have to be pretty darn outrageous to register with the granddaddy of music mags. If some sniveling co-worker can't deal with the obvious favoritism, that's their problem.

Boo-hoo-hoo. Cobain either doesn't show up or is sitting around swapping hooplah with the natives, making them feel good about working in tiny cubicles while elevating her own status in the music biz. Big deal. If you can't stand the heat, get out of the kitchen.

Did it ever occur to anyone that FrannyB is doing Rolling Stone a favor by hanging around? Having a direct pipeline into behind-the-scenes antics of Courtney Love and cohorts has got to be worth a pretty penny, doncha think? No wonder their reps deny any impropriety, claiming "She's a great girl, and we're thrilled to have her."

I would too if the arrangement might lead to a juicy magazine story. Although ... well ... first I'd make the kid buy some Ray-Bans.

Man Rips Off Adolph Hitler's Head

Someone has a big problem with diabolical dead guys. The newest Madame Tussaud's Wax Museum had barely opened in Berlin when some deranged fool targeted Adolph Hitler's waxy numbskull for a field maneuver.

The 41-year old German man knocked Hitler's block clean off. Actually, he ripped Adolph's noggin clean off the body. Tore it right off. Hey, it's wax, not an actual person. What do you expect?

Well for one thing, I expect Madame Tussaud and her crew of cronies to have more sensitivity about undesirable historical figures. The wax edifice was in bad taste and shouldn't have been part of the opening display. It's also illegal in Germany to glorify Hitler or to display Nazi symbols or art. Go explain that to the judge.

While they're at it, why not do a wax figure of a Cossack charging on horse back? Throughout history, pograms also helped decimate the Jewish population, although on a much smaller scale than Hitler and the Third Reich.

On the other hand, vigilante head ripping, even from a wax figure, is just plain nutty and rightfully punishable by fine and/or jail time. At best, it's destruction of private property. At worst, attempted symbolic annihilation. Either way, the guy's a little off, although I applaud his ability to take matters into his own hands. That big glob of goo must have been heavy.

Maybe he needed the head for his own neck. Next time, buddy, be more discreet about your foibles.

Celebrity Censorship Establishes Dangerous Precedent

While we were sunning and funning in L.A., the world definitely took leave of its senses, at least that's my sorry conclusion after viewing this segment of Howard Kurtz's Reliable Sources.

Talk about a mixture of celebrities, politics, and media, here are nine plus minutes of informative topical banter leaving me convinced more than ever of too much media power in the wrong hands leading to unhealthy consequences, specifically self-censorship, something freedom lovers everywhere should recognize as a treacherous slide down a slippery slope. Change effected today is free expression squelched tomorrow, meaning we can't have our cake and eat it too. The opinion you suppress today may one day be your own.

Remarks of columnists Ray Richmond and Sharon Waxman are illustrative. Richmond pretty much bashes Oprah Winfrey, blaming her recent dip in ratings on media overexposure rather than her endorsement of presidential candidate Barack Obama. Inexplicably, he also takes credit for making Oprah politically active. Waxman and Kurtz go in a different direction, pointing to the endorsement as a key factor in the alienation of Oprah fans, but citing other unrelated factors as the possible cause for her rating woes.

But the most disturbing part of the segment was the Rachel Ray ad campaign for Dunkin Donuts. Corporate pulled print ads of Ray wrapped in what appeared to be a kaffiyeh scarf, a symbol of Palestinian terrorism in parts of the free world. I am by no means a terrorist sympathizer, nor do I support Islamic fascism. But honestly, a scarf as political statement in print ads for doughnuts? Get real. Ray has horrible taste, yes, but to label her a terrorist sympathizer through a media blitz which eventually forced the company to censor its own ad campaign establishes a very dangerous precedent.

What's next? Shows like The Sopranos are never produced because they offend the sensibilities of Italian-Americans? Ads with actors draped in orange and black can't be shown in New York because they're too reminiscent of The Baltimore Orioles? Where do you draw the line?

And then there are unintended consequences. We'll never know whether Oprah's early endorsement of Obama was instrumental in gathering necessary support from the African-American community or in gaining enough superdelegate support to cinch the nomination. What we can probably expect in the next election are endorsements from only the most devil-may-care celebrities willing to put their ratings or popularity on the line for a particular candidate. This kind of self-censorship is not necessarily a positive development.

Isn't it better to know the political viewpoints of a celebrity before becoming their biggest most devoted fan? I, for one, would rather know which way a celebrity leans, expressing support or displeasure with my pocketbook and letting the chips fall where they may.

Feeling Like Peter Frampton After Thirty Plus Years

Peter FramptonGEICO commercials

No way! No way, man! GEICO convinced Peter Frampton to pull out his hair!



Still cheeky after all these years.

And yes, I feel like you do. Hair today, gone tomorrow. What a ride!

Cryptic Google Valentine's Day Reminder

On behalf of bajillions of people worldwide who forgot cupid's day, thank you, googlepods, for today's reminder. I don't know what the rest of the world wakes up to, but my homeboy is Google. Not trying to curry favor or anything, just like starting my day with an algorithm that takes me where I need to go.

Speaking of which, I've been wondering all day where these octogenarians need to go. The message finally hit home. This mediocre reproduction of today's logo (still waiting for approval or denial of permission to run the original) looks like they and their Valentine's Day "Bon Voyage" balloons are seriously contemplating a one-way trip into the sea. Probably couldn't live off their paltry social security income checks any more and decided to call it quits. Dubya tax rebates couldn't come fast enough.

For those astute enough to decipher the clues, the hidden message says it all. Indistinguishable facial expressions. Feet precariously balanced between sea and shore. Illustration shapes unable to substitute for missing logo letters. Clearly, that last one tips the scales. Without those letters, the logo becomes "Go E," a cryptic message to the untrained eye, but plain as day to we super sleuths.

"Go E" is the universal code command for "Go East" (instead of west), as in take a hike, and in this case, take a hike old farts. Way to go, hommie! Subliminally suggesting euthanasia as a way to keep social security afloat is pure genius.

Writers Strike Kicks Golden Globe Awards in the Teeth

The entertainment industry is in trouble when my children begin complaining about the current wasteland that is television.

For more than ten weeks, the Writers Guild of America has taken its cause to the streets, going head to head with the Alliance of Motion Picture and Television Producers, giving the evil eye to late night TV hosts, putting the kibosh on sexy award shows, and digging their heels in for the long haul. ABC Studios recently ratcheted things up a notch by terminating writer development agreements and work contracts. Things seem to be going south fast.

The reasons behind all this misery are not difficult to understand. For anyone still in the dark, a humorous explanation from former SNL alumna Tim Kazurinsky should clear up any misconceptions.



Last night, one of the premiere award shows, the Golden Globes, was reduced to a press conference with video clips. Tinseltown continues to mourn. Calling the format entertaining would be a stretch, although seeing the whole program in under an hour definitely had its advantages. Sure, I missed the red carpet, the glitz, the dresses, and all the interviews, don’t get me wrong. However, I can’t remember the last time I didn’t spend an entire evening glued to a television set just to find out the names of the winners. There's something to be said for streamlined viewing.

Sadly, the Academy Awards may fall victim to the same fate. Advertisers are scouting alternatives. Things have gotten so precarious, the cavalry is headed for Dodge. All around nice guys Tom Hanks and George Clooney have offered to mediate. No word on whether the feuding Hatfields and McCoys have decided to come in from the rain.

As a writer myself, it’s hard not to sympathize with the WGA. They just want their piece of the pie, not a kick in the crack. Writers suffer stints of unemployment like everyone else and need residuals to help carry them through. Studio heads insist they aren’t turning a profit on the Internet, yet they’ve been whistling a different tune to their shareholders. Writers deserve better.

Offering a cut of net profits is not the solution. Creative accounting techniques can make profits look like deficits. No, the studios must cough up a percentage of gross advertising revenue to end the strike. The Guild recently negotiated similar deals with Worldwide Pants, David Letterman’s production company, United Artists, and The Weinstein Company.

If it’s too much to ask fat cat media conglomerates to follow their lead, then conglomerates will have to suffer the consequences. Just like when television exploded in the 1950’s, thereby relegating radio to a back seat, so too will the Internet explode. Television could then head into a tailspin from which it may never recover. Public viewing preferences will change.

When the dust settles, I have a feeling the writers will land on their feet. They can jump ship to the Internet if that’s where the audience lands. But studio heads may not be as lucky. Their ships may become empty vessels.

Bill Gates Last Day at Microsoft Video

Big news flash. Bill Gates is retiring from Microsoft to devote his attention to The Bill and Melinda Gates Foundation. Oh. You already knew. Well some of us have a life. Some of us sometimes spend time doing other things besides surfing the Internet. Some of us are just not so fabulouso.

I'm referring to our virtual Hollywood correspondent, Mona extraordinaire. Moan has been slacking on the job. Something about death and taxes. Don't ask.

But I'm here to make it up to all you faithful Spewklets. Bill's last keynote address at the 2008 International CES convention included a hilarious crossover vid spoofing his retirement. Yes, better quality versions are floating around, but we thought you'd enjoy the same experience as people attending the premiere.

We here at The Spewker wish our very best to Bill Gates. Not that he will need it, but hey, it never hurts to spread the good vibes.

Luckily for Mr. Whipple, There’s No Toilet Paper in Heaven

Was there ever a television commercial that crawled under your skin and consistently evoked an urge to immediately change channels?

In the golden age before remotes, Charmin toilet paper commercials were my nemesis. I literally jumped for the knob at the sight of pearl and cardigan clad Caucasian hausfraus going gaga over toilet tissue. Portraits of giddy delight erupting in facial displays of ecstasy, manicured fingers repeatedly digging and releasing plastic swathed toilet rolls, noses buried in bundles of bathroom bales, these women seemed more akin to refugees from the funny farm than anyone I’d ever encountered at my neighborhood grocery store.

For reasons I never understood, the Charmin display cast an irresistible spell over these dipwads, like sex toys in the middle of an underground paraphernalia shop. At the time, I was far too young to understand any obsession over toilet paper, nor did anyone offer anything remotely resembling an explanation. I eventually developed a strong dislike for the clerk who policed these inane suburbanites. His name: Mr. Whipple.

A mustachioed middle-aged man, glasses precariously perched over a bulbous nose, Mr. Whipple was the definitive wimp, someone who couldn’t stop a dog from taking a piss on his own lawn. “Please don’t squeeze the Charmin” was his signature imploration. This pathetic excuse for a bodyguard always ended the spot by grabbing his own pack to furtively squeeze alone. The camera then rooted him out, sending a subliminal message that even its champion watchdog couldn’t resist finger porking Charmin's soft white folds. In time they added a voice over, just in case viewers didn’t understand the pitch.

Oh, I understood fine, I just couldn’t help feeling sick inside. Why would anyone be possessed by a toilet paper fetish, let alone indulge it in the middle of a grocery aisle? Clearly, my mother wasn’t telling me something. Switching channels became an automatic response.

Thankfully, the mystery of toilet tissue affixation ended around the time I hit puberty. By then, those infuriating Charmin commercials had all but disappeared.

Yesterday, the man who made squeezing the Charmin a guilty little pleasure succumbed to natural causes at the Motion Picture & Television Fund Hospital in Woodland Hills, California. Dick Wilson lived to the ripe old age of 91. He was a universally recognized pitchman who didn’t mind forging a career from a product people like me preferred not to contemplate.

Procter and Gamble put Mr. Whipple down in 1999. Although relieved to witness his demise, I’m saddened to hear about Dick Wilson. There should be a lavish tribute on the P & G web site. Dick Wilson shilled for those people more than 500 times.

Another fixture of my childhood is gone. Each passing symbol from my youth reminds me of a bygone era I'm not quite ready to let go. Call it nostalgic affixation. Too bad I can’t dig in my fingers and sniff for relief.

Magna Move Foreshadows End of Maryland Preakness

While the blowhards down in Annapolis are busy examining bigger and better ways to gouge Marylanders out of their hard earned dollars, a far more serious matter has reared its ugly pock-marked head.

Um, Mr. O’Malley, I realize this whole tax and spend thing has you and your cronies deliriously giddy with thoughts of government subsidies dancing in your heads, but could you please take a good hard look at this development? A devastating storm is brewing on the horizon.

I’m referring to Magna Entertainment Corporation’s recent announcement of its decision to acquire all outstanding shares of the Maryland Jockey Club. This business essentially controls the Maryland horse racing industry. Since the inception of its "plug in a leaky bucket" deal with the DeFrancis family, former Maryland Jockey Club majority owners, Magna reserved the option for complete control of the business. Now, when it is apparently most cash-strapped, it will exercise that option, a move most certain to heap even more red paper on the Canadian conglomerate.

Is anyone else scratching their heads thinking what's wrong with this picture?”

Marylanders have the shortest memories in history. Only two slight years ago the Annapolis pols were jumping up and down screaming, “Pass the slots bill or risk losing the Preakness!” Slots died in committee, Governor Ehrlich lost his bid for re-election, the Dems had a big group hug, then everyone went home for coffee and donuts. Now the O’Malley camp is rumbling about a special session to balance the state budget and the citizenry is grumbling over the hole in their pocketbooks.

People! Pay attention. You’ve lost focus. The timing of this Magna announcement is a very big deal. Can’t anyone else see the clouds of a perfect storm?

If Magna looks crazy on paper, I say the company is crazy like a fox. Call me crazy, but the coming and going of this announcement with very little fanfare leaves me baffled.

Maryland racetracks have been and continue to hemorrhage money hands over fists. They cannot compete with racing purses offered by neighboring states who have long seen the wisdom of bringing slots to the masses. These gambling parlors are traditionally combined with existing betting tracks, allowing neighboring states to offer fatter racing purses. With the high moral ground continuing to oppose legalized gambling in Maryland, our horse racing industry, a once glorious way of life and source of revenue, is all but certain to die. With the death of the industry, so too will come the razing of our racetracks.

How soon we Marylanders forget a nefarious move perpetrated under cover of darkness resulting in the loss of our beloved football team, the Baltimore Colts. Once Magna obtains complete control over the Maryland Jockey Club, what’s to stop it from shutting down Pimlico and doing the same thing with our beloved Preakness?

The Preakness, people! Baltimore’s own little Mardi Gras. A tried and true traditional excuse to party. Weeklong events have been built around this baby. Make no mistake, as outright owner of the corporation controlling Pimlico racetrack, Magna could and likely will move the Second Jewel in the Triple Crown to another venue.

Unless those tax and spend animals down in Annapolis start quickly putting together these puzzle pieces and legislate a way to claim Preakness as the property of Maryland, I’d say all bets are off.

Feeling the "OPEC Squeeze" at the APEC Summit

What is the APEC Summit and why should you care? Soon enough, everyone will be talking about it. Then you’ll be glad you took the time to read on.

A brief aside: Honestly, does MSNBC have to include commercials with its videos? Can’t they find another less annoying way to stay afloat? Pretty soon, some computer genius will find a way to view the videos without the product plugs, call it CiVO, and rake in millions. At that point, all the MSNBC bigwigs will be back to square one while little people like me will have become so fed up, our viewing business will be conducted elsewhere. Why give computer geeks another entrepeneurial opportunity? Don't executive drones realize the inevitable logical conclusion of this dastardly income grab?

Back to APEC: The 2007 APEC Summit is currently going down in Sydney, Australia. APEC stands for "Asia-Pacific Economic Cooperation." The coalition of member nations seeks to create greater opportunities for international trade and investment, develop strong partnerships with Asian-Pacific businesses, reduce trade barriers, and stomp out global terrorism. Lofty goals, no doubt, which any normal global citizen would endorse.

Somehow the United States, situated so far outside the target territory they might as well change the name of the summit to the "WEC," became a participating member nation, as did other oddly situated countries such as Mexico and Canada. At least the good old U.S. of A., which includes the Aloha State, can feign a legitimate vested interest in APEC. I wonder what excuse the Maple Leaf politicians invented.

Anyway, at his most recent APEC appearance, President Bush let slip one of the most horrendous gaffes of his presidential career. He took the stage, thanked John Howard for inviting him to speak at the "OPEC Summit," then tried to make light of his mistake like the amiable good ‘ol frat boy we all know he is. The rest of his message was completely lost.

Sorry Dubya, this doozie doesn’t fly. The citizens of America are crying in their milk, so sick of the big lie they are ready to elect a Democrat - any Democrat - in 2008, even one so unqualified as Hillary Clinton!

President Bush. Your unbelievably stupid Freudian slip serves to confirm what the majority of Americans have known all along. That you, your cronies, and your whole oil loving family are in bed with the Saudis, keeping the price of oil artificially inflated, discouraging discoveries of alternate fuel sources, single-handedly strong-arming the U.S. economy into charging higher and higher prices for goods and services, while all of you sit back and play golf at your country clubs, clucking your tongues at average Americans. In the process, you are squeezing the middle class out of existence and giving liberal nut jobs the fuel they need to turn this great nation into a socialist republic. No socially conscious citizen wants to see our poor and our hungry starve out on the streets. But when you fix the game as badly as your administration has, the possibility for constructive solutions cease to exist.

Thanks a bunch.

I should send the White House a copy of our current food bill. I pay at least $25.00 more per week for groceries than I did last year. Anyone want to lay odds I’m not the only one feeling the OPEC Squeeze?

Stick a Fork in Netflix

Everyone who hasn’t heard about the Netflix Blockbuster smackdown, please stand up. Sit down little old lady in the back who still gets her videos from the public library.

Netflix was nice, but I sometimes waited up to four days for new videos. That was entirely too much turnaround time. In my zeal to watch five years worth of missed releases, each passing day was precious. Finally, the fundamental components of corporate America won me over. I quietly migrated to the dark side and have been satisfied ever since.

Better product, better service, more customer satisfaction. This credo spawned and continues to fuel the economy. Its lure is like a siren song. Unlike my hairdresser who refuses to switch to Blockbuster on some theoretical root for the little guy moral ground, I have nothing to prove.

I won’t go into details about why one service may be better or worse. No, it’s with sadness today I report on Netflix’s demise. A new ad campaign touting five videos a month for $4.99 PLUS unlimited downloads right from your computer. Oh yeah. They’re going down.

Will someone please throw Netflix a life saver? My personal favorite is cherry.