I don't like Britney Spears.
I think she is Madonna-lite, and I don't really care that much for Madonna.
I know. Bad Gay Man. Bad.
But Britney has put the crazy away for the time being and is on tour in something called Circus. And I was reading a review of the show, because I had nothing better to do. And it was an okay review until they got to the part where they said she didn't sing live.
She lip-synced in concert.
Now I may be old, or I may be old school, but don't you go to a concert to hear people sing? If I liked Britney Spears, and if I ever wanted to see her perform, I would hope that she'd actually sing.
I mean, if she isn't going to sing live, why not stay home and listen to her music and sing into a hairbrush and save myself a chunk of change?
It's the same thing.
The chimp that attacked the woman.
I don't get it. Who doesn't know that a chimpanzee is a wild animal? And you can never completely take the wild out of such a creature.
I mean, people have pit bulls and they know those dogs are vicious, have a tendency to be vicious. So why would you buy a wild animal to keep in your house as a pet? Because it's cute?
Baby elephants are cute. Ever seen a grown one in someone's house.
Baby tigers are adorable. But would you want one as a pet when it's full grown?
I feel awful for that woman and what she's had to endure since the attack. But I also feel awful for the chimp that was forced to live in an unfamiliar environment as a wild animal. I feel awful that the animal was put down for being wild.
They call them wild animals for a reason.
They're meant to live. In. The. Wild.
from the newsdesk in Smallville: A county in South Carolina is one step closer to banning the baring of breasts at county bars. I thought public nudity was illegal anyway, so why all this talk of banning the bare breastages?
It's because of wet T-shirt contests.
Okay. So now I get it.
One last question?
The county in South Carolina that wants to ban the bare boobies is the county of Horry?
A county called Horry wants to ban nudity.
Only in South Carolina.
During breakfast this morning Carlos was telling me a story about one of his co-workers. In the course of the conversation he used the word sincere.
Nothing wrong there. It was pronounced correctly, without any Ricky Ricardo-esque twists.
But I stopped him with a wave of my hand, and said, "Sincere. From the Latin sin cere, which means without wax."
Carlos couldn't speak. He gave me that look that dogs give their owners when they hear an odd sound. He tilted his head, and, I think, his ears perked up.
"In ancient times, when a sculptor was sculpting out of marble and made a mistake, leaving a gouge or scratch in his work, he would fill in the gouge or scratch with wax. So, a perfect statue, one without wax, was called a sincere statute.
Sincere: from the Latin sin cere."
He looked at me dog-like for another moment and then went on with his story.