Snuggies already look like day-glo robes from a freak religious cult. But throw in a couple of overly-enthusiastic white people dancing in the kitchen with lunatic grins and, well, just look at the photo.

[c] 2009 Russ of America

Yesterday I wrote a piece called “I’m A Douche At Starbucks“. I penned it to mock two things: 1) My first time sitting at Starbucks in front of a laptop acting like a stereotypical Starbucks laptop douche, and 2) people who, on a regular basis, do what I did yesterday, and who go above and beyond normal douchery by incorporating Bluetooths (Blueteeth?) and other increasingly pretentious icons of self-importance. I’m certainly on the path to number two.

And speaking of number two…. (best segue ever…) while I was typing that blog post, something else was going on in the background at Starbucks.

I noticed a group of people enter the Starbucks. I surveyed them, made a mental note and went back to the writing. I don’t know if it’s insensitive to say that they looked like mentally disabled folks, but I think that sometimes mentally disabled folks have “a look” about them. Is that wrong to say? I don’t mean it as an insult for sure. Those afflicted with Down Syndrome, for example, have “a look.” No biggie. It’s actually kinda helpful because it reminds me that I might need to be a bit more patient.

I went about my business. One of the group’s members sat at a chair about ten feet in front of me. He was there for a minute or two, then got up and moved somewhere else about the store. Didn’t think much of him, just went about my business. A few minutes later, I noticed a bustle of activity. Nothing loud, just a series of slight movements of people together and some concerned whispers. This was a cue to my brain that I should raise my eyes and survey the scene. My orbs made contact with a variety of surfaces until I arrived at the, uh, jackpot.

One of the unfortunate members of this group shat his pants. A big, heavy, wet, soggy diarrhoea. Thick and damp, like soupy coffee grounds or a creamy hot chocolate, the diarrhoea pooled on the seat, some dripping off of the back end of the chair, onto the bottom rail, and then onto the floor like syrupy peanut butter.

The group’s handler, whispered with another fella, and with his cooperation and the help of the Starbucks staff, the handler was able to procure latex gloves, a big bag, some rags and cleaning spray. I was rather disappointed with the handler’s cleaning efforts though: A few sprays of cleaner on the rag, a few scoops off of the chair and ta-da, she called it a day. The Starbucks employee asked one of the handicapped guys to take the chair onto the patio so she could hose the shit off the chair properly.

This isn’t so much a humorous or satirical piece as it is more of a WTF Just Happened Here piece. I feel badly for the poor guy who shat his pants, but I also feel badly for me, an innocent guy who had to see liquid human brew dripping off of a chair at Starbucks. Guughh! I gotta say though, the ventilation system at this Starbucks was top-notch — not even a molecule of the stink reached to where I was sitting. The woman next to me had no idea what was going on, and I’m pretty sure that other patrons were spared the knowledge as well. Although after the fiasco my imagination got the best of me and any bagels being toasted smelled like shit for a few seconds until my brain figured it out.

The motto of the Internet is, “Pics or it didn’t happen!” Here are my pics, to show that it happened.

[c] 2009 Russ of America
For stylistic purposes I have chosen to use the old-timey spelling of diarrhea in the text of this post.

Iron rich faggots?

Click the picture for the big version.

Photo Courtesy of Ben.Harper (Flickr) – used under Creative Commons License

Yes, today I learned that faggots can be food. I’m embarrassed because apparently everybody in England knows this, so to them I’m a real asshole. But I’ve never, ever seen that definition in an American-English dictionary and I’m not entirely illiterate or unexposed to other cultures.

“To learn new things!” I often toast…

[c] 2009 Russ of America

NOTICIA: Lest it be gravely misunderstood, Russ of America embraces and holds as equal all of the Universe’s beautiful creations. (Except for the total nutjobs.) There is no humor in the application of the word “faggot” to another human being as a means of denigration. But there *is* humor in knowing that a subject so inflammatory in modern American culture is found readily and with no inflammation across the pond in the freezer section.

My Bebbeboo took me to Ren Faire this past weekend. Ren Faire is the kind of event you have to apologize for attending. “We went to Ren Faire this past weekend — but I swear to god we’re not dorks!” Well we *are* dorks, but we’re not Ren Faire dorks. I mean, we went to Ren Faire, so we’re *SOME* kind of dorks, but we didn’t dress up and say m’lord and m’lady all the longe of daye, we just spectated. So we’re not to-the-bone Ren Faire dorks. I had a fun time regardless of the negative stigma.

In one of the booths I saw an interesting talisman purported to be of magick quality. The advertising slogan said, “Win In Court Every Time — Aids the owner in overcoming all legal problems. If worn when appearing in court, it is said to guarantee the winning of any lawsuit.”

Now, ignoring that it looks like it was designed by an infant, do you notice anything unusual about this talisman? Maybe something, oh, I dunno, ethnically insensitive? Maybe something that is a mockery of the stereotypical lawyer? Maybe something that you might only whisper about with your closest friend — a friend with an open sense of humor?

[c] 2009 Russ of America

Should I boycott the 99 Ranch Market for selling this anti-feminist, offensive product? Nah, I really enjoy their pork and chicken bao and it would be a shame to turn my back on them just for this careless infraction.

But we male feminists are watching you, House Wife Soy Sauce… we are watching you very closely. And China too. [punches fist into hand threateningly.]

[c] 2009 Russ of America

UPDATE 03.04.09: Sexist A-1 Sauce found here!

I’m on a Ridiculous Direct-Mail Advertisement kick lately. Here’s an ad I received several weeks back. I”m thankful that I had the foresight to scan it.

There’s a lot to discuss here. Would you be caught dead wearing a shiny plastic-looking leather bucket hat? If you’re going for that early 80s hip-hop b-boy flavor, you’re not going to get it from this hat. You’re just going to look like a cheap-ass who couldn’t afford a real Kangol. Sen Dog from Cypress Hill you ain’t gonna be, wearing this thing, knowwhu’msayin’?

Nextly, I’m not a fashion maven by any stretch of the imagination, but I have never seen a leather baseball cap that did NOT look like shit. I mean, if you want to give the impression that you’re a Janet Jackson Rhythm Nation expatriate, you’re certainly welcome to, but in 2009 it’s a little, uh, how-you-say, “dated”. And why not emigrate back to the Rhythm Nation if you miss it so much? I know, you often hear the “why don’t you move back” argument from those self-righteous shit-kickers in fly-over states, but I really think that illegal Rhythm Nation immigration is a cause the entire country can get behind. Move along, sonny.

The wide-brimmed black leather hat is just not a bright idea. If your plan is to don a black leather hat to protect yourself from the sun, you might want a refresher course in 7th grade science. Black attracts heat, and buying this hat (even if it has a breathable polyester liner) is just asking for a neck full of dripping sweat, possibly tinted black from possibly cheap leather dye. (DISCLOSURE: This is an unsubstantiated assumption based on prior experience with cheap leather boots.) Maybe that’s why that poor young man in the ad look so miserable. He realizes how stupid he looks — like a bargain bin, lummox Crocodile Dundee. I’d look sad too if I were him. I’m sure he’s an awesome guy, just caught up in a really bad leather hat and jean-shirt scene.

That leather driving cap is just god-awful. I’ve hated those hats for decades and I think that Robert DeNiro is the only guy who can really pull them off. I promise that I have nothing against the blue-collar man. Cab drivers, limousine drivers are all functional members of our society. I just don’t think that I need to look like a cab or limo driver as part of some contrived fashion statement force-fed to me through direct mail, somewhere in between the Albertson’s and Ralphs coupons.

Two hats for twenty bucks? I guess the price point isn’t too bad, so if I were forced to pick two, which would I get? I’d probably buy the bucket hats. I could stick a couple of houseplants in them or something. At least they’re crush proof. Did you hear me? Crush *PROOF* That means they are impervious to being crushed. If you attempt to crush these hats, you will fail miserably because they CANNOT BE CRUSHED!

Well, folks at Direct Source Inc, I’m sure that I can’t go wrong by buying these hats because you assure my satisfaction, and I will likely be ordering a half dozen bucket hats for my garden in the next few days.

[c] 2009 Russ of America

This came in the mail recently. The Ashton-Drake Tiny Miracle Emmy So Truly Real Doll.

She only costs $59.99 plus $7.99 shipping and handling, but I do have to wait 10-12 weeks for shipment after I pay them. Fortunately, if I’m strapped on cash I can divide the $59.99 into two payments of $29.99 (Yeah, I would save a penny if I took advantage of their payment plan – how can they afford to stay in business?!) And if I really don’t have any cash, I don’t have to send any money now at all! I can just send back the business reply card and the Ashton-Drake Galleries will reserve a Tiny Miracle Emmy So Truly Real especially for me. Now the real good news is that I have 365 days to decide whether or not I’m completely satisfied! I wonder how she could possibly disappoint me in that span of time. Maybe if she were disobedient and talked back too much.

She feels almost real! Now, the ad says that dolls designed by Linda Webb normally fetch thousands of dollars. I don’t doubt it! My girlfriend collects Super Dollfie 13 ball-jointed-dolls and those mamajammas are expensive. So imagine how fortunate I am to be given the opportunity to buy this 10-inch lifelike doll for only $67.98 out the door. 10-inches and lifelike? Shhh! I don’t want my gal-pal to hear THAT kind of talk if you know what I mean!

I’m having a little trouble here. This thing is suitable for a 3 year-old? As what, a $70 pacifier? And an adult? So like, an undergrad from the nation’s busiest party school would play with this while on spring break? Or maybe a 34 year-old bachelor who lives by himself?

[c] 2009 Russ of America