~Dear CBS News

I don't expect you to be perfect.  Really, the only things I require outta the news is that it be impartial and that you be smarter than me.  (Which, frankly, shouldn't be that hard.)  See, if that's not the inferred unwritten contract between you, the news delivery system and me the viewer, then maybe you should be sending a camera crew here and I'll tell people some shit about the ta-doin's in the world.  I can't promise you high ratings, but I can promise that I know the fuckin' difference between Mit Romney and Newt Gingrich. 

Love,

BBG

My Top 10 Tweets Re: RH Bill & Baguio Priest

As much as I love blogging, the old fashioned multi-paragraphed way, lately, I've realized that some of my best points regarding specific topics were best delivered within 140 characters. It will be a shame to just let them get buried in the Twitter rubble so I'm putting it here. 

So in celebration of Maundy Thursday, here are my recent choice tweets that clearly states my passion and advocacy for (hopefully) a future law, which is the RH Bill. Since the tweets are pretty recent, most of it are about the Baguio priest who lambasted Risa Hontiveros on the pulpit and asked parishioners to leave the church if they support the RH bill.


(Some of these tweets are made during a debate so notes are added for continuity purposes. Abbreviations have also been expanded since we're not constrained to limited characters anymore.)

My Top 10 Tweets About the RH Bill


10. I see your point. But their notion of what is a sin or not is suffocating even the (most basic) human right of HAVING AN OPINION. #rhbill (Response on an argument that it's the Church's prerogative to shun RH Bill supporters out of church)


9. They're having delusions of grandeur. Which is ironic bec. Jesus is all about living a humble existence. #rhbill (Response to a tweet saying that priests have forgotten that people ARE the Church.)

8. Ghandi was right. "I like your Christ. I don't like your Christians. Your Christians are so unlike your Christ."


7. The ironic thing is that these are the same people who preach about love and acceptance and not judging people. #baguiopriest


6. I don't think Jesus himself would shun people out of his Father's house for believing otherwise. He would (patiently) teach and explain his side instead. #rhbill (Still about the Baguio priest)


5. The problem with the RCC (Roman Catholic Church) is that they insist that their voice is the voice of God when in fact it's just the voice of high ranking officials.


4. Dear CBCP, I thought God gave us the FREEDOM OF CHOICE. Why can't you do the same?


3. Church's job = maintain morality. State's job = provide needs of people. Teenage pregnancy left and right. Who failed to do their job? 


2. And here I thought the church is a place where everyone is accepted, even the lowliest of sinners. I was wrong. #rhbill (Response to Julius Babao's tweet regarding dismay on the Baguio priest's actions)


1. I THINK GOD Himself wants the RH Bill passed. Therefore I AM for #RHBill (Response to a fill in the blanks  question of "I THINK ____. Therefore I AM for RH Bill.")

Happy 420 Everybody!

If you don't know the meaning of the 420 holiday, well...its ok, I won't push you.  Enjoy the day anyhow!

Glee's A Night Of Neglect Review

After a couple of weeks of hiatus, Glee is back with more songs and more Charice, but less of everything else.

The episode started out as promising. The Glee Club is back from their regionals win and, surprisingly, nothing has changed. The golden trophy that has gleamed with importance back in season one has somehow lost its shine this time around. You would've expected that the club finally getting the coveted first place and a chance at competing at nationals would've paid more attention to the aftermath of such game-changing success, but no, that did not happen at all. 

Instead, we were treated with a lousy episode arc where Tina, Mike, Artie and Brittany has suddenly transformed into brainy geeks intelligent enough to win in an academic decathlon. It would have been feasible enough if there was an ounce of history of them showing off their studying prowess, but since there was none, the whole thing just sounded fake and forced.

Actually, the whole episode felt pretentious and trying hard. Even Charice's guesting didn't really brought much substance to the show except to enter another show-stopping musical number. Her role did not make much sense although I do applaud how her character seems so much of an alter-ego to Rachel's which is absolutely fantastic and opens up a lot of story opportunities. From her first episode in the show, I got this impression that her Sunshine will be another meek forgettable character but here, she proved that she's talented, she damn well knows it and she's not afraid to flaunt what she has. She is almost like Rachel, only smaller.

Enter the Concert for a Cause with only a handful of people in attendance. This did not make sense to me at all. They know no one's there in the first place, why push through with this? Instead of embracing logic, we were put through performance after performance of acts and songs which did absolutely nothing except establish the already known fact that Mike Chang can dance and Gweneth Paltrow can (somehow) sing. Plus, if they don't have money for anything, how did they afford to have an orchestra and a gospel choir in that benefit concert?

The episode did have its ups. I've grown fond of Paltrow's character Holly because of how she exudes coolness and surprising wisdom in everything that she says. Her character sorts of enter a moral lesson here and there in her lines and you won't even notice it. This week's theme is Heckling in the 21st Century.

In entirety, I think the producers and the writers of the show need to have their eyes checked. First of all, Glee is a TV show. A musical, yes, but a TV show nonetheless and not a concert. In the end, it is the engaging characterization and captivating plot lines that will make people stay addicted with the show. If they don't work on that as soon as possible, I see a bleak future ahead.

~Before I Have To Change The Name Of The Blog To BBG's Craptastic World... (aka: Things That Made Me Happy)

So before you think I'm going full time bitter, I want you all to know that I have had some BBG appreciated stuff happening. I'm tryin', contrary to popular belief, to accentuate the positive. (Am I the only one who remembers that song?)


For instance, there I was, there I was (a little present for my pal Beannie), on the highway traveling east, when whaaaaat popped on the radio?




Hellz to 'da yeeeeaaah! 

Followed up by a lil':



You should have seen me rollin' on down the road singing at the top of my lungs, head bouncin' back and forth, fingers tappin' on the dash and steering wheel. Hot damn was I one happy BBG! I musta looked like quite the freak. Thankfully, I'm a quick driver so folks don't get much of a chance to gawk at me when I'm busy makin' a fool of myself on the highway.


One day while engaged in my favorite pass time shopping (sorry, that's only funny [and known sarcasm] to the peeps who actually know me, as I fuckin' hate to shop. For any thing. It's just never been my gig. I want to be in and out, no doddling, efficient stuff acquisition and then o-u-t. And don't get me started on the concept of "window shopping", as I assure you I find it even more of a totally fucking inexplicable way to spend ones time.), I ran into local news anchor and Teddy Ruxpin doppelganger, Jerry Revish.

For some unknown reason lack of control I felt the need to tell him (no hello, or introduction) that I'd met his dog several weeks ago. And as if that didn't seem kooky enough, that he was verrrry cute and seemed verrrry nice. (The dog of course.  I was not hittin' on Teddy Ruxpin.)  In I'm sure what was some sort of internal quest to believe that perhaps the BBG stranger verbally accosting him spoke of some other dog, he asked which one as we both said his d oh double g's name. (Good googily moogily, for some other unknown reason I feel the need to protect the sweet dogs privacy by not mentioning his name. I am such a fuckin' freak.) He asked where we met and I told him, kept walking and wished him a nice day.


The funny (to me) thing was that when I met his dog a third party introduced me to the dog and told me who he belonged to, and I can remember thinking, that I wouldn't do that, or want that done to me for security, well, I guess privacy reasons. ...Honestly, the this exact reason. I mean reeeeally, does Jerry Revish need strangers holding random pet conversations as he shops? However, it did cause a wee chuckle as it sunk in with me how peculiar that exchange was.


I also had a buddy visit one evening, Dole Pineapple, who brought me Peeps and wine. How awesome is it to receive a gift of Peeps and booze?!? I was touched by the weird and curious combination, mainly because if I'm trying to perk someone up they're probably receiving something weird and odd in composition. 

(I have to hold onto the Reese's eggs until Easter.  And then I'm gonna eat the hell outta those

you got your chocolate in my peanut butter/peanut butter in my chocolate eggs.)

Another day I hopped on the freeway and spied this old school truck in my rear view, I mean ooooold school.  But it was so far (and getting farther) behind me I couldn't get a good gander at it.  But I did, more quickly than Johnny Law would probably have appreciated, catch up with this fun to see ride:

(I know.  Not the best picture.  Cut me some slack, I was drivin' after all.)

I've also received a bit of joy from the words like "beautiful" and "gorgeous" that have been bandied about by Dr. S in reference to me.  Obviously, indicating that Dr. S may want to go ahead and make an appointment with the optometrist, but a welcomed BBG boost none the less.

I also have some happy, happy, joy, joy for others, including LB2'd who celebrates her 40th today.  I've known her 1/2 the time she's been alive.  There's been  lot of tears, a lot of pizza and booze, a little vomiting (her part, not mine.  Did you forget who the BBG is?!?  Besides she's all of like 104lbs. so that's gonna happen over 20 years, ya know?) and a couple children, but waaaaaaay more split your sides, catch your breath laughs.  So one big ass Haaapppy Birthday LB2'd!  You are a blessing in my life. Good on ya to another of my besties and blessings in my life, AnonD who has taken a step in doing something to give herself a better life, to which I say awesome (and congrats!).

We'll see what this week brings.  In the meantime a lil' history lesson:

 

~Lobster Or Bust

T'is the Lenten season.  Which in addition to me being slightly bitter about having to do without chocolate and pop, means seafood.  Not being that big on seafood, it's a very strategic time of year for me.  I don't want the same seafood-y option twice between Ash Wednesday and Easter, so I have sumthin' different each Friday.  Wendy's fish sammie.  Check.  Ronald's filet o' fish.  Check.  Supermarket sushi.  Check.  Blah, blah, fuckity, blah.  Check.  This Friday was my time honored turn at lunch at Lobster.  (Yes, of the Red variety.)  Others may be included in Lobster day, but the one constant is my friend MGB.    It started a million years ago with us being the two Catholics at our job and pretty much every year we've sustained our routine ever since.

As I headed out to our 2011 Lenten lunch I noticed the irony as I was dressed in yoga pants a cami and some sorta athletic-y zippy jacket.  There it was staring back at me in the mirror as I thought, 'yep. There's nuthin' more ridiculous than a big girl in athletic gear gearin' up to go eat 4 days worth of deep fried and breaded seafood-y goodness calories?'  Apparently, recognizing irony and being able to stop it are two entirely different things because I giggled internally and turned and walked out the fuckin' door hoppin' my fat ass into my big ass SUV. 

It was good seeing MGB, who because she lives on the other side of the moon (aka: out in the country), I don't see nearly often enough.  MGB, one of the three smallest girls I know, pulled up in this big ass Yukon, up from her last regular sized sport ute, making my first words to her instead of mainstream "hello", "what's next a Peterbuilt?"  Ahhhhh...good to know I haven't lost my ass-y essence over the past several weeks.  (Of course I then had to explain, because in addition to me there are probably only 3 other girls in these great states united who use semi manufacturers as a day-to-day reference point, and she wasn't one of them.)

Fortunately she knows I'm an ass. (And weird.)   And even with that knowledge she asked me to join into her kool kidz book club, comprised of several skirts who I really dig.  Even framed it in the most appealing fashion to me with, "you don't even have to read the book." 

MGB, you had me at don't have to read. 

In a departure from my normal/left to my own devices eating habits, I indulged in a full on meal.  Not a "healthy" meal.  Unless of course you have perhaps sustained some sort of significant head trauma; fried shrimp, fried clams, baked potato swimming in a pond of butter, salad swaddled in copious amounts of bleu cheese dressing and a biscuit.  (...Serious biz the Surgeon General is gonna hunt me down and kick my ass.)  However as MGB and I discussed, cooking for one is just the epitome of stupidity, in my lazy ass opinion, so something other than a cob of corn, or alternating days of pb and j with grilled ham and cheese sammies was probably a good choice all-in-all.  Right?  Or was that just the result of crazy ass rationalization?  I donno.  Either way it was pretty damn tasty.

 (The lobsters were very lively)

MGB shared some good news about some good people we know, and caught me up on some other folks we know.   It was a delight, and well needed diversion to spend a little time that put a smile on my face.

As we were leaving we stood in the parking lot chattering away as girls do, and watched a couple pull up in his shiny black, roof down, I'm compensating for small junk car.  At which point I look at MGB and ask, "wouldn't buyin' a button that says 'douchebag' have been cheaper?"  Again, she already knows I'm an ass.  And apparently, illiterate. 

See ya next year Lobster.

~Miscellaneous Crap Tickin' Me Off (aka: Everything)

I believe when I hand someone, lets say a cashier something (cold hard currency, or card, etc.) that the polite thing to do, nay, the socially acceptable and appropriate thing to do is to return it to my hand.

Am I wrong?

I mean, I'm not that worlds longest nail man, or a leper, so why would ya slap it down on the counter?  I find it to be rude. 

How rude?

A:  So rude that the past few times it's happened, I've looked at the cashier and said something like, "it's considered polite if someone puts something in your hand to return it to their hand, not the counter where it's likely to be forgotten or left behind".  Yes Emily Post it is poor etiquette of me to point out a faux pas, I figure they were clearly raised by wolves, and ya know, they say it takes a village and all, plus as you know I'm tryin' to be part of the solution.  To my credit, I do restrain myself from actually using the term dumbass when I say it.

Also pissin' me off lately, are the mutha fuckers who change lanes in an intersection.  Are they just givin' out drivers licenses in cereal now?   Or is society officially slipping into anarchy? 

Today I stopped at the gas station and this asshole BMW sport ute driving chick was parked all whopper jawed, to a pretty crazy ass degree.  I parked right beside her, 100% in my assigned lines.  When I returned she glared at me and said, "thanks for parking so that I can't pull out".  Reeeeally dumbass bitch, sweetie "you parked your car in such a manor.  I simply pulled into an open spot, perhaps next time you should shoot for being in the lines and not crooked to avoid such troubles", hopped in my ride and went the fuck on with my day. 

World why are you testing me?

Things are tickin' me off so much that I find myself ticked about some stuff that hasn't even happened yet.  For instance this new show The Voice.  I'd like to watch it (at least once) but Celo is keeping me from it.  While I like his lil ditty, I mean a song called Fuck You, yeah, that's right the hell up my alley, ya know?  But his limbs look suspiciously close to midget limbs, so I'm out.  (Thanks NBC.  Oh, and CeeLo's parents.)

In short: