We don’t take a lot of long vacations here at Casa Bob y Casa. We might take a day trip to Charleston, or an overnight to Asheville or Savannah, but long trips? Not so much. Maybe once a year, if that.
So, to leave the house for well over a week to head out to Washington to get married — did I mention I got married, because I did — was quite the problem for the furry kids. We had a friend, and her kids, come in to care for the kids, feed them, play with them, let Ozzo go outside for his business, but our pets, while they liked the idea of being fed and watered and having clean litter boxes, were not keen on strangers … strangers … in their house.
The report was that for most of the week, Ozzo was depressed; MaxGoldberg wouldn’t come out from under the bed, and Miss Consuelo Roca-Jones was never seen at all. In fact, when we learned during our trip that Consuelo never appeared, I worried that she’d somehow gotten out of the house because that bitch er cat never misses the chance to be first in line at meal time.
Only Tuxedo showed up, and we heard that he showed up to supervise. He followed out pet-sitters around the house, checking everything they did, everywhere they went; he watched the dog go outside, and made sure the dishes had the right food; he ordered the treats to be served at the right time, and always used the litter-box after cleaning to make sure it had been done properly.
Of course, after we got home, Ozzo went insane, racing like a bullet around the house; MaxGoldberg and Miss Roca-Jones ran and hid, in a display of temperament, or anger that we dared leave them alone.
And only Tuxedo allowed himself to be greeted and hugged and kissed … by at least one of his Dads.
Ah, pets. They really let you know what’s going on.
Big news from across the pond is that people who live at Buckingham palace — though not the Queen, I think — are bringing their online hook-ups home for the night.
Uh huh. Buckingham Palace staffers have sparked internal fears by bringing bootie calls, met on dating apps like, oh, say, Grindr, back to their living quarters, ands police guarding the royals are said to be ‘deeply concerned’ at the number of unvetted overnight guests.
Like it’s a freakin’ Motel Sex, er, Six.
According to well-placed sources — Hey Camilla! — many of the Queen’s 800-plus staff use online dating tools, and while most live-in servants — including butlers, maids and kitchen staff — are not allowed to bring guests into Buckingham palace, they can, and do, visitors to their living quarters at St James’s Palace and the Royal Mews.
Still, if it happens there, it’s happening at Fuckingham, too, if you get my drift.
Okay, so marriage equality South Carolina update:
Our Will of the People Fund case, Bradacs v Haley et al, was required by Judge Michelle Childs to submit briefs by today; Childs can either rule without reading the briefs, or after reading.
From what I understand, though, she is bound by the ruling of the Fourth circuit Courts, and should therefore rule, either today, or by the November 13 deadline she set, to allow marriage equality in the state.
That said, let me take a moment to thank Nel, from Rhode Island, and Mark, from Delaware, for their donations to the cause as a wedding gift for Carlos and me. There would be no better gift than to have our marriage recognized in our state.
Lord, this Ebola thing is getting g out of hand.
Not the disease itself, but the reposting of who has it, how they got it, whose fault that was, where are they, where they’d go, did they sneeze, or fart, or vomit or crap their pants.
Keep it in perspective people. As I heard on NPR, more people have been married to Larry King — and to Kim Kardastrophe, for that matter — than have contracted Ebola in the country.
Every sneeze isn’t Ebola.
We love Scandal and we love How To Get Away With Murder. There used to be this thing called “Must See TV” and now that’s become, for us, “WTF Just Happened TV.”
I also love that both shows, created by Shonda Rhimes, feature all kinds of people, black and white, and every color in between, gay and straight, men and women, and don’t feed into the stereotypes of any of those folks.
Recently, though, there was a second, very hot, scene between two men on HTGAWM and some folks got their panties in a snit about it; like this woman who Tweeted:
Speaking of TV, here’s the Hot Man Alert for the New Season:
Brit Dominic West, baring butt, in Showtime's The Affair; Brian Hallisay, the cop with the big beautiful guns on Revenge; Michael Socha, the newest fairy-tale character, Will Scarlett, on Once Upon a Time; and Michael James Shaw, burning up the screen on the upcoming Constantine.
So Renee Zellweger showed up at an even this week looking like, well, not Renee Zellweger, and social media went into snark overdrive.
It really was mean-spirited, and, as happens on these anonymous sites, a free-for-all. But then Zellweger herself weighed into the fray, saying this:
"I'm glad folks think I look different! I'm living a different, happy, more fulfilling life, and I'm thrilled that perhaps it shows. My friends say that I look peaceful. I am healthy. For a long time I wasn't doing such a good job with that. I took on a schedule that is not realistically sustainable and didn't allow for taking care of myself."
Let me say that if Zellweger had any kind of procedure, that’s her business and her right, and we shouldn’t denigrate her, or any man or woman for doing whatever they want to make themselves happier and more at peace with themselves.
That said, Renee, really? That is not the face of happy and fulfilled; that is a very different face altogether, and we should be able to bring it up in conversation, polite conversation, otherwise it becomes the lifted and tucked and Botoxed elephant in the room, Just sayin’.
Monica Lewinsky’s back, y’all. And am I the only one who finds it curious that she always resurfaces when Hillary Clinton is expected to run for office?
Yeah, Monica, right. But now, Lewinsky has taken on the crusade of online bullying because she says she is the first person to be “destroyed” by the Internet.
Bitch, please. You were attacked and reduced because you f**ked a married man, presidential or not, and then kept the DNA-stained clothing as some kind of trophy.
You really need to stop talking, permanently.
A group of conservative moms in Florida seem to have forced Toys R Us to pull four collectible dolls based on characters from AMC's "Breaking Bad."
Now, this one I don’t have a problem with, because I don’t think a meth-making doll is the kind of ‘toy’ kids should be playing with, though, if an adult, an adult, wants this kind of memento, go right ahead.
Toys R Us says the figures were sold in limited quantities in the adult-action-figure area of its stores but the fact is they were sold in a ‘toy’ store.
I’m kinda with the moms on this one. What do you think?
When former Playboy bunny Jenny McCarthy joined The View I knew she’d become the dumb one — which is saying a lot since Sherri “I’m not sure the Earth is Round” Shepard s still on — but now McCarthy is talking more, and sounder even more stupid.
If that’s possible. See, now she says she’s always felt “transgendered” on the inside:
"I feel like that inside. I always felt like one of the guys wearing, like, a Playboy bunny outfit. I was David Spade’s buddy to begin with, so I was a natural fit [to play a transgender character on Spade’s 90s show Just Shoot Me] and I always felt like his brother. To play kind of the dude, was almost too scary natural."
Seriously? So, you played transgender and that made you think you’re kinda transgender?
Siddown. But that wasn’t the dumbest think this bimbo said. She also went on to say she’d be over the moon if her son was gay:
"Oh my god, I would be so excited. We can shop! Do my hair!"
Right, because that's what every gay boy likes to do!
This gay boy hates shopping, hates the idea of touching Jenny McCarthy’s fried weave, and hates the idea that anyone is asking to interview this moron.