Saturday SlobberLove

You know that scene in Gigi where Hermione Gingold sings The Night They Invented Champagne and she's dancing around like Buddy Hackett but in a really cool European way and she's going WOO! every once in a while and the tone of her WOO!'s are like if you took every painting Picasso ever painted and every book J.D. Salinger ever wrote and every whole chicken Ina Garten ever roasted and every nonfat latte Britney Spears ever purchased and you morphed all those things into one? I think the reason for the sheer Space Shuttle majesty of her WOO! is not really that she is so happy that GiGi is going to get married but that she just ate a sandwich and that sandwich contained the following:

Havarti cheese, slightly melted
Arugula
Caramelized red onion
Dr. Praeger veggie burger, ALMOST---but not quite---underdone

You think I'm exaggerating but I'm not,
Sergeant Drool

Things I Don't Understand, Items 127 thru 129

127. James Cameron's hair (obviously)
128. When pens won't write in certain spots on a piece of paper
129. Why no one ever uses the word CLODHOPPER anymore

Cooper Being Sally Field in The Flying Nun

"Truth be told," he says, candidly, "The reason I was able to play the part of Sister Bertrille so convincingly is because I have absolutely no control WHATSOEVER over my own ears."

Tuesday Expert Advice

Dear Cupcake,

Recently I heard a compelling report on NPR about crows that attack people in urban settings and at one point in the segment the reporter said (in a VERY thick Merchant-Ivory film accent) Everyone knows someone who's been pecked or pooped upon, and I was wondering if you knew --- was this statement referring to the helpless and terrorized pedestrians or simply anyone in the area who works in middle-management?
---Drooling and Befuddled in Butte

Dear Drooling,
No.
Good luck,
Cupcake

Monday Judgements and Warnings

Please be advised that the following piece of information is something that may, some day, save your life:

Although they masquerade as kindly little shriveled up elderly people shuffling aimlessly around in the Kleenex section of Wal-Mart, make no mistake, RAISINS are miniature neutron bombs waiting to explode in your tummy.

Best of luck to you,
Gordo the Unusually Petite Bouncer

Friday Conclusion

Mister Cupcake and I have a music collection on our iPod that probably encompasses 798 different tastes and generations---what with our combined libraries of musicians and tunes and Mister Cupcake's inclination for SHARING.

Hey! Let's swap music! says Mister Cupcake as he tosses our hard drive to his latest beneficiary---a generous contributor to the
Leo Sayer For President campaign.

Which brings me to my point and my conclusion:

WHEN YOU'RE TALKIN' PROS AND CONS OF THE IPOD SHUFFLE AND THE SHARING MUSIC THING ---YOU'VE GOT TO KEEP ONE THING IN THE FOREFRONT OF YOUR MIND:

GRAND FUNK RAILROAD

Do not say you were not warned,
Captain Cuppy Ears

Things I Don't Understand, Items 124 thru 126

124. When people use hearts to dot their i's
125. Anyone who pretends like they aren't kind of terrified of Victoria Beckham and her giant platform shoes
126. What, exactly, Myrrh is

Cooper Being a World Famous Lippizaner Stallion

Here he is seen demonstrating his world class form wherein he catapults himself into midair and then stays, suspended, above the audience for up to thirty minutes.

"The secret is honch control and keeping your gaze straight forward by visualizing and focusing on something like a large silo of cheese or a pile of valuable shoes you will soon get to destroy," he says, explaining how he is able to achieve such impeccable Leap and Hold Technique.

Tuesday Expert Advice

Dear Cupcake,

I have an etiquette question that I hope you can help me with.

The other day I was conversing with a Pat Robertson devotee and this person was belly achin' about how Mister Black President Obama was just full of hot air because, well, the whole world had not changed the way he promised it would. What a big bag o' hot air that Mister Black President Obama is with his RHETORIC and such, if you will (I'm quoting here) and at a certain point this person, who happens to think that Rush Limbaugh is a compassionate wise man, proclaimed a small portion of his beliefs about the non-existence of racism (what? who? Us? Racist? NO.) and he/her/it said:

WELL, YOU JUST NEED TO PULL YOURSELF UP BY YER OWN DARN BOOTSTRAPS!!

Then there was a cough that sounded like there had been copious amounts of tobacco ingested but that is NOT THE POINT.

The point is that after I left this LOVELY conversation with this person that thinks Michelle Obama's hair looks "VERY COARSE" I thought of a suggestion and I wanted to know if you think it would have been appropriate to suggest the following to the person I was conversing with who thinks we aren't all in this together:

IF YOU CAN'T PULL YOURSELF UP BY YER BOOTSTRAPS CUZ YOU HAVE NO BOOTS YOU CAN TRY PULLING ON YOUR EARS REALLY HARD IN OPPOSITE DIRECTIONS AND SEE HOW THIS WORKS

Would that have been the most refined way of relating to this person or would it have been a better idea to offer some caramel topping on that Vanilla Sundae of Crazy they had goin' on?
---Cooking Up a Conundrum in Colton

Dear Cooking,
No.
Good luck,
Cupcake

Monday Judgements and Warnings

I have a poem I wanted to share with you. I wrote it and I think it's very pretty. So pretty, that, although it does not have 12 lines, I think it is worthy of being called a sonnet. When I wrote it I knew I had locked on to something incredible, something larger than life and effing beautiful. Why do sonnets have to have 12 lines?! I thought. How tragic that life is so full of crappy rules. Oh well, when something is as enduring as the sun, the light it gives cannot be extinguished (regardless of SPF 70) Here is my poem:


Poem So Beautiful It Should Be Given Permission To Be Called A Sonnet

Sometimes when you talk
You could not talk
And that would be okay
Beautiful, even

Author's Note: If you try to find this poem in the Library Of Congress you will need to search for it by the title Shush.

Things I Don't Understand, Items 121 thru 123

121. Broccoli on pizza
122. The outfits that cyclists wear
123. Whether or not Brian Williams is unusually smug or just plain confident

Cooper Being Bear Grylls on Man Vs Wild

"In this episode I spent over 36 minutes sniffing, tracking, leaping, barking, slobbering, running and peeing," he says, explaining his extreme survival adventures in an urban park off Sunset Boulevard where he famously contracted diarrhea from consuming too much eucalyptus bark and dried horse poop.

Monday Judgements and Warnings

I'm not saying we're in mortal danger YET but I hope you realize that it's only a matter of time before we're all gonna have to buy our own smell-proof canoes to stay afloat on the ocean of Celebrity Signature Scents that is slowly engulfing us.

Keep your kerchief nearby,
Sergeant Stink,
Barfy Odor Squad

Saturday SlobberLove

This American Life never fails to provide me with a word or phrase or image or concept that makes me do a little invisible standing ovation in my head where I go BRAVO! BRAVO! ENCORE! like a scene out of The Turning Point.

This morning I heard the words DERELICT HIBACHI in the description of a back yard that had fallen into trashy neglect and it just made my heart swoon.

Friday Conclusion

Sometimes when I'm sitting at the computer I notice little pop-ups that flash on the screen saying something like YOUR THINGY IS ABOUT TO EXPIRE, YOU FOOL! or YOUR LAST BACK-UP FAILED, RETARD! and I must admit that, although I know these a-holes are vital, I find them to be incredibly annoying. I guess I'm just a big dope when it comes to the computer. Like my dad was when the remote wouldn't work. NOT GONNA HAPPEN.

Was that one of those little warnings about the pending hard drive explosion? I think, before clicking it away. GO ON, GIT. But after they persist, unrelentingly, I start to have 1950's husband thoughts like GET OFFA MY BACK ALREADY! or CAN'T A PERSON HAVE A MOMENT OF PEACE AROUND HERE FOR CRYIN OUT LOUD?! Sometimes I even say out loud: JEEEEZZ!

Which brings me to my point and my conclusion:

WHEN IT COMES TO MY RELATIONSHIP WITH MY COMPUTER, THE ONLY WAY I KNOW HOW TO BE IS LIKE RALPH KRAMDEN.

Things I Don't Understand, Items 118 thru 120

118. Polka music
119. Gazpacho
120. When grown women get really into the color pink

Cooper Working the Drive-Thru Window At Taco Bell

"I made the mistake of organizing a small violent posse of disgruntled taco makers who's sole purpose was to pressure management into bringing the Enchirito back," he says, reflecting on his short lived vocation as a fast food attendant.

"Also, I refused to wear a hair net and felt more comfortable interacting with customers in the nude."

Monday Judgements and Warnings

If you've never seen the movie Jerimiah Johnson with Robert Redford and you don't have time to, here are some things you can do instead and it will be like you have actually experienced the movie:

1. Sit in a room and stare at your area rug. Don't move for quite some time. Even when your shins go numb. Don't move.
2. Hum a little. Hum some more. Hum as if you were overdosing on a deadly concoction of NyQuil and Tylenol Cold medication. Hum like you forgot how to hum or like if someone told you to hum in a way that would make people go berserk. (this mimics the soundtrack in an UNCANNY way.)
3. Walk to your nearest fur shop on Rodeo Drive and find a bunch of really big gigantic furry fur coats that are really furry. Stare at them. Find a pair of skinny Lee jeans and picture them in an outfit with the fur coats.
4. Mumble a lot. Mumble some more under your breath. Take AT LEAST an hour and a half to reply to anyone who speaks to you. And when you do reply MAKE SURE YOU MUMBLE YOUR RESPONSE.
5. Tromp around in the snow in exotic Ugg boots that Mariah Carey or The Rock would wear and then go build a fire under your bathroom sink or on your neighborhood corner. Look very forlorn yet eerily unnerved.

Bonjour howdy,
Bonnie Jo Crab Apple III

Sunday Science Segment

Just as the red corvette containing the sun damaged wrinkly body of a 65 year-old man never fails to startle, so does the poop brown coffee mug with magenta, green and orange polka dots ruin the taste of any hot beverage poured inside it.

Wake up people. The package matters.