Damn tree huggin hippies!!!

Last week I was on the bus on my way to the Punchline.

Behind me was what I fondly refer to as a trustafarian. He had a Grateful Dead T Shirt, Birkenstocks, Hemp pants, a polar fleece, and one of those stupid hand woven bracelets that I am sure he thinks is some sort of Tibetan Friendship Prayer Bracelet. All of his clothes were brand new, he was clean-shaven, his black, gold and green knit hat still had the plastic tab and he was holding a brand new Blackberry in his hand. He was about twenty years old.

He was talking to a homeless guy, sitting across from him. The only reason that I heard his conversation was because he was speaking so loudly that I am sure he had woken the dead in China.

His conversation went a little like this:

Trustafarian: "bro, you wouldn't believe what I just went through"

Homeless Guy: "hmmm"

Trustafarian: "bro, I just got out, I was in for 3 days"

Homeless Guy: "hmmmm"

Trustafarian: "yeah bro, I was at Hippie Hill, and I had some shrooms and some killer kind bud bro, and these under covers totally busted me!! Yeah! And I was all dude, bro, this is for my personal consumption, I have a medical condition...."

Homeless Guy: "hmmmmmmmmmm"

Trustafarian: "yeah can you believe that bro? They fuckin arrested me!!! So any way bro, I totally got hassled, I mean yeah I had like a pound of weed but like, I have anxiety, I wasn't trying to sell it. And it is just weed, what's the big deal? They took all my shit, bro and I just got out....hold on, I gotta get this call."

Homeless Guy: "hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm"

Trustafarian: "Hello? Yeah bro, three days in county bro..............no my Dad bailed me out, I gotta appear in fucking court, bro........................... what? No way, bro! She broke her wrist? Bro, did the cops do it? Bro, that totally blows.....................Yeah so anyway bro, I can't hook you up cuz they got all my shit and I can't get in touch with the Wizard..................................Alright then bro, I'm on my way to Berkeley to show support right now bro, I will see you there"

*Is this asshole serious? He can't get in touch with the Wizard? That's what he calls his drug supplier? What a fuckin putz. I am sure his parents are sitting in their mid-century modern clad mansion in Tiburon, beaming with fucking pride. I am sure the Wizard wears a magical cape and gives dumb, trust fund, Phish heads edible sheets of paper that will transport them to a mystical land with a Dungeon and a Dragon. Dork!

Trustafarian: "Bro, that was my homey, bro.....he said that one of our friends who is in solidarity with the trees, just fell and broke her wrist. I am sure those Berkeley pigs had something to do with it."

*I am sure they did, because we all know how brutal the Berkeley police can be. They put the Oakland Riders to shame. They mentor LAPD on DWB. Vicious BPD!!! Watch out black man, watch out hippie, the Berkeley Police are on their way to attack you with their vegan batons and their recycled citations.

Homeless Guy:...........................

Trustafarian: "Yeah bro, my brothers and sisters have been sitting in the trees at UC Berkeley to keep the establishment from cutting them down."

*The establishment? There should be a law where I can punch him in his face. Right now, please?

As I listened to this idiot babble about the trees at UC Berkeley I became very upset.

Zachary Running Wolf and his group of "brothers and sisters" have been sitting in these trees for almost a year in order to keep them from being cut down, in order to make room for a new recreational center at UC Berkeley.

Every time I hear about it I get upset. This is the fight that they chose? In this day and age with all the other things that are going on in this world, this is their cause? Saving 100 trees. (There are 140 trees but they only want to cut down 100.)

In case Mr. Running Wolf and his patchouli infested friends had not heard, there is a war going on, where people are dying. Oh yeah there is that whole Global Warming thing too. Here is another newsflash, people are still devastated by the affects of the flooding after Hurricane Katrina. In Zimbabwe, the inflation is so out of control that people are eating their house pets, and people are spending their life savings on a bag of rice. Then there is Darfur. It doesn't stop there, I could go on for days ....Myanmar, Rwanda, Chiapas.....

But these people have drawn the line. They know what is important, 100 trees in Berkeley. It is way more important than human life, or war, or the devastation of an entire Rain Forest (which by the way has hella more trees than that grove at UC Berkeley), or the woman in Saudi Arabia who was gang raped and they sentenced her to 200 lashings and six months in prison for getting in the car with men she kinda knew. Pshaw to all that, you guys need to save these trees!! That's what is important. 100 trees in Berkeley, CA, USA.

It makes me want to run over to their little tree loving sit in, wearing leather, baby seal fur, ostrich boots and skin cream made from Whale fat and sacrifice a goat at the base of their trees.

A couple of days later I was having dinner at my parents' house. My mother and I had finished a bottle of wine between the two of us and we had just opened our second. We were talking about the homeless and drug dealers in our neighborhood. I told her about the "hippie" on the bus.

I asked her her opinion about the whole thing. After her tirade about spoiled Marin county trust fund brats having no priorities, and after my father's tirade about how the funny thing is that the hippies of the 60s are the greedy corporate Wal-Mart running pigs of today, my mother said something very interesting.

She turned to me and smiled with her wine stained lips and said, "the funny thing is, that if we grow the child the right way, we wouldn't have to worry about the trees".

As I poured myself another glass I said, "grow the what?"

To which my mother replied, "if we nurtured and raised our children the right way, with out all this anger and fear and taught them to love and pursue good, we would not have to worry about the trees, we would not have war, we would not have global warming, or famine or hate, these problems would not exist. But man is too selfish and doesn't get that. Yayne, put down that wine you have had enough...... Yeah, okay, I'll have another glass. The problem is that children are not raised with values or manners anymore. It is all about instant gratification and no repercussions for their actions."

I asked her if that could ever be possible, to which she said, "who knows".

The next day, I thought about it. Is it possible to change the world by changing the way we raise our children? We hear all of the experts. Hillary told us it takes a village, but could it ever happen?

We live in a time where our heroes have accomplished nothing. Just look at Paris Hilton.

For a short time, we had heroes. The brave men and women who lost their lives as the first responders at 911. But they have been quickly replaced by the Kanye, the Beyonce and the Britney. America's new hero displays erratic behaviour and lives in excess.

While our brave soldiers fight in the Middle East, we glorify Nicole Richie who's only accomplishments are being adopted by a rich celebrity and kicking heroin. She wouldn't know an IED or an insurgent from a pair of Jimmy Choos.

Where is the nurturing? Where are the values? How can we grow when we don't even know how? That road was washed away by the morality storm, years ago.

So when did we go wrong? Was it the 60s, with its hippies and Vietnam. Or was it the 80s with its yuppies and trickle down economics?

Or is it that the civil rights movement and the Vietnam war protests were such significant events and were glorified in such ways that nothing can compare to them? Not even 911? Our generation doesn't believe they can measure up.

All I know is that the road we are traveling now, will surely destroy us. We probably won't even see it coming because we will be so busy listening to Kanye on our ipod, in our range rover, as we sip our mochafrappalattecino from Starbucks, and lugg our discounted toilet paper and sneakers (made by Asian war babies) home to our flat screen where we have tivo'd our favorite reality show. In our last moments will we realize what could have been or will we be too distracted by our own self indulgence?

I forgot to be thankful.

Today I woke up, alive. After Thanksgiving, I was convinced that all of the food that I had consumed was going to kill me. By 8 pm, Thanksgiving night, I was so full that I thought to myself "if I don't vomit, I am going to die". I then grew angry with myself and American culture as a whole.

I was totally disgusted by myself. How could I have stuffed myself in such a gluttonous way when there were people in this world who go days with out eating? Shit, I am Ethiopian, I should know better.

At the end of stuffing my face, my first thought was "I have to work out for two hours tomorrow to burn this shit off or I am going to get fat". My next thought was, "maybe I should do a juice fast for a week so that I look skinny in my gold lame mini dress for New Year's." I maybe Ethiopian, but some one forgot to tell my metabolism, if I look at carbs I gain weight.

Fifteen million thoughts later I thought how thankful I was for my life. It was after the "why do I get stuck doing the dishes while the men sit around?" thought. It was after the "I think my aunt is drunk and why did she get all weird when I asked her about where her girlfriend is?" thought. It was after the "why hasn't any one praised my sweet potato pie? I make the best sweet potato pie in the world!!" thought. It was after the "my brother is an asshole" thought. It was after the "what there's no more wine?" thought. Believe me there were many thoughts before I thought about what I am thankful for. I am a selfish bitch.

My brother had pissed me off so much that I wanted to punch him in the face. A skill that he has managed to refine and master with every holiday. I was fighting with my Dad because I told him I was tired of my brother and somehow the fact that my brother acts like a jerk was my fault. My father has mastered the art of over reacting to everything. Some one could be half a mile in front of him, change into his lane, and somehow "that jerk cut him off ", thus sending him into an Ethiopian frenzy where he no longer can speak English and he needs to drive erratically and then flip out on us when we tell him to relax, it's not worth getting upset over it.

So basically I was so consumed by the bullshit that I forgot the good stuff until way later.

As I packed my left overs, I noticed that people where throwing perfectly good food into compost. Yes that is right I said compost, I am after all born and raised in San Francisco, and in San Francisco, when we are not on our liberal, PC soap boxes, we compost.

So I stopped my cousin from putting the best fucking mashed potatoes I had ever had in my life in the compost, and put them in a Tupperware container with some other food. I was intent on giving it to the only homeless person that I am nice to. All the other homeless people on Haight Street can kiss my ass!!! What? I have said it to their faces so it's not like it is some sort of surprise. They all know I can't spare change, I can't spare a cigarette, I don't want to buy any of their kind bud, and they can't sit in front of my house. "And take your garbage with you! You spoiled little trustafarian, gutter punk brat!! Get in your Lexus, drive back to Marin and tell your parents you are sorry!!!"

Except for Kim. Kim is mentally ill, has fits of crying and episodes where she does not know where she is and spends all night screaming and crying. For some reason our building has decided that we are going to make sure she is fed and her clothes are as clean and warm as possible and she can scream in front of our building 24 hours a day if she wants. But don't let any other homeless person try it, they will go down with one call to non-emergency dispatch and a request to speak with the officers when they arrive so that I can sign the citizen complaint.

Kim could throw a luau with the other people that live in her head. It could turn into a full blown out personality feud a la Sally Fields in Sybil and if the police dared to harass her, I would fly down the stairs in the middle of the night screaming "she doesn't need jail, she needs mental health care!!!!" I would glare at the police while leaning on my gate, in my pajamas, my scarf wrapped around my head, my sleep crust in my eyes, my hand on my hip giving them a lecture on compassion for those less fortunate. They would return my glare with their "shut up bitch and go upstairs" glare. Ah non-verbal communication. Gotta love it.

So my Dad dropped me off and I walked up to Kim to give her food. She was asleep. I carefully left it in front of her so as not to disturb her. I then looked up and down the street to make sure no one was watching and would later take the food. It was for Kim and Kim only. I then went upstairs, put what was left of the turkey in the fridge and then went across the street to the bar to bring them the pie I made them (at least they would praise my pie). Also, to meet my cousin for a much needed shot of Fernet, that lovely Italian digestif. I was so full that I grimaced and a few people at the bar told me I looked like I was turning green. The shot of Fernet was like a hit of heroine to a junkie in withdrawal.

As people came up to talk to me about their night I realized, I don't give fuck, I just need to go home and sleep. Please stop talking to me about what you ate, it is not helping my nausea.

Right before I went into my home, I checked on Kim, she was still asleep and her dinner and pie were still in front of her. Cool.

I went upstairs, talked to my room-mate about her night, bitched about how full I was and how my brother is an asshole and then bade her good night.

I got in bed, said my prayers and fell asleep, at around 10 pm, while watching "First 48". I still had not thought about how thankful I was.

At 2:45am my dog woke me up with a familiar urgency, it was the "get your ass out of bed and take me outside before I shit in the house urgency". I threw on some clothes, grabbed a plastic bag and headed out side with my dog. He bolted down the street to his place, (aka his poopy place). I decided to walk around with him for a little while, just to make sure he had "gotten it all out of his system". As we were walking down the street some homeless guy jumped out from behind a dumpster to ask me what time it was and wish me a happy Thanksgiving. He startled the shit out of me and my dog. My dog lunged after him, the fur on the ridge of his back straight in the air and his fangs showing. I grabbed him by his collar before he got to the homeless guy and then proceeded to yell at the man for be being a cracked out freak and worst of all upsetting my dog.

The rest of my walk was spent cursing the crack head under my breath, while my dog stopped and growled at every sound, every bit of paper blowing in the wind and apparently every thought that every aggressive homeless person in the Haight Ashbury was having at that time. Basically, my German Shepard and I were collectively cursing homeless people under our breath as we walked home.

When I returned to the front of my home, Kim was awake. She greeted me with a smile and told me how, like magic, she woke up and food was there. I told her that I had left it there for her. I asked her if she liked it. I told her that I would be making turkey noodle soup over the weekend and I would bring her some. I asked her if she was going to be warm enough, I told her to be safe and I went in my house. That was when I remembered.

It was 3:15 am. After all my stupid thoughts, it took Kim to remind me to be thankful.

I laid in bed for a while thinking about all that I am thankful for. I said a prayer for Kim, and I fell asleep.

When I woke up this morning I was thankful, thankful to be alive, thankful for my family, (even my brother), thankful for my life and thankful for Kim. I hope I never forget.

I think I'm over it!! No really I am.

Last night I saw my crush. He was sitting at the bar where I used to work, alone, drinking a cocktail. He some how seemed shorter, he somehow seemed insecure, but he was still hot.

As I looked at him, I realised my feelings had changed, no sweaty palms, no nervousness, no feeling awkward, no fear about what to say. Nothing. I felt totally indifferent.

I was more concerned with my friend Kyle. He had just learned that he had a son and I wanted to celebrate with him.

I left the bar with out saying anything to my crush.

As I was walking down the street I saw him. He stopped and we had a casual chat about something. I smiled at him as we talked but I realized, I am over it. I had no desire to ask him out, I had no nervous smiles, I had no anxiousness or wanting for him to proclaim anything to me.

So what happened? I went home and tried to figure it out. Nothing. It was just time. Had I realized that I was being stupid? Had I realized that he was just a distraction for the other things that I did not want to deal with? I got nothing, couldn't tell you.

I started to get angry. Why now? What was different? Am I crazy? After all of that time wasted lamenting and dreaming, where did those feelings go?

Then a sense of joy came over me. I'm fine. I no longer needed to seek out the validation of a man I barely knew. I no longer had to create this fantasy to fill that place that had no love. I will find the right man when the right time comes.

Lately, when I go out I have found the tables turned. I have met a great deal of good looking men, who become tongue tied, awkward and then walk away feeling stupid when they realize, I don't understand what they are saying.

I want to run after them and go, it is okay, I totally know where you are coming from I have been there and btw, thanks.

I have gotten so many "hey you are so hot" comments, that maybe it went to my head. Maybe I did not have to hold on to that one anymore, because I realized I had options. Options that were coming up to me and telling me, "I am interested".

People always tell us that we need to find that validation in our selves. People say that once we are happy and feel complete in ourselves, the right one will come along.

I say bullshit!! I will take that external validation. I will take "nice tits" or the "oh my God your legs go on for days" or the "you are so sexy, but I bet you hear that all the time". Yes I hear it all the time, lately, but don't let that stop you from saying it again. Say it over and over again, my ears are wide open!!!

So where is the truth? Is there a formula? Is there an explanation? Or is it different for each person? What is the answer?

Maybe he was thinking what others have been saying. Maybe he was too shy. Maybe he is not interested at all. It does not matter to me anymore. I am fine not knowing. Okay well maybe a little part of me would like to know. But the other part is stronger!!!

I had created this whole "Sex In The City", he is my Mr Big, fantasy in my head. I thought the only thing that would resolve it was him telling me yes or no. But last night I realized, it doesn't matter any more. I am fine.

I know you wanted some witty story about me feeling like an asshole or us having a happy ending. I am here to tell you that I had my happy ending, completely and totally by surprise, just by seeing him again and not getting an answer and being okay with that.



Don't get me wrong, if I had a chance to do him I would screw his brains out. I mean he is really fucking sexy. I don't think he realizes how sexy he is, which just makes him even more sexy. So if I had the chance, I would break officer mc hella cute in half and he would love it.

But as far as all the other stuff goes, over it.

Is Paris all talk and no action?

This morning I learned that Paris wants to help the drunken elephants of the world.



When I heard this I thought, "perfect!! Who better to help the alcoholic elephants that are so desperately in need of help, than one of the world's most notorious alcoholics, Paris".

Who else has more experience with alcohol and reckless behaviour?

Do you know about these poor elephants? They are in such pain and suffering. Their mundane every day lives of traipsing through the jungle and eating foliage is so overwhelming and challenging. Carrying the villagers has taken a toll on their enormous frames. The only way that they can cope with their lives is to suppress all the burdens that come with being Asia's most lovable pachyderm with alcohol.

These elephants have been known to break into brew houses drink all of their rice wine and then go on drunken rampages!! Tearing down power lines, stampeding villages, knocking over huts!! I can't tell you how many times I have wanted to do the same. These poor animals! Never mind the traumatized villagers, what about these elephants?

When I read about them, I was wrought with sadness!! I thought to myself, yes Paris please, please help these poor elephants.

Then I learned it was all a hoax. She had never promised to help this cause. Some asshole at Associated Press made the whole thing up.

Damn you AP, how could you make light of their suffering? Have you no respect for these animals?

But I started to think about Paris. She has become such an absurd caricature of a human being. That is almost as if she is not real. She runs around in her couture, making light of every one, driving drunk, showing her utter lack of intelligence, and then when it finally catches up with her, going on a huge whirlwind pr tour to make it seem like she is a good person.

Lets look at the promises she made after she got out of jail. Well actually, lets look at just one; the promise to go to Rawanda and help people there.

Since that promise has been made, it has been reneged. Paris took an area plagued with misery, promised to help and then never followed through.

Now maybe we should think of it from her point of view. Who would want to go to Rawanda and help all those miserable, stinky poor, black refugees? What if they touched her fabulous Heatherette dress? What if they spoke to her? I mean that is so not hot?

When you live a life of opulence, where you have always gotten every thing you want, where you get to do whatever you want with almost no consequences, why would you want to be reminded that other people are suffering in this world?

In the past when I read of Paris trying to spitefully ruin a starlet's career I thought what a bitch. When I heard about her going after her friends' boyfriends I thought what a back stabbing bitch!!

But when I heard that she had made a promise to people suffering as a PR gimmick and then did not follow through I thought, I can't wait till this bitch's karma catches up with her.

I say shame on you Paris!! Put up or shut up!! You are a self indulged, spoiled brat who would step over a dying baby to get to the Jimmy Choo boutique. Look behind that oddly shaped, praying mantis like nose of yours and think about some one besides yourself.

While you are teaching the next generation to be shallow and self indulgent, there are real people with real problems in this world who are suffering.

Go to a hospital and visit a soldier who was wounded in the war. You know the war right? It has made your family and friends of your family millions. I am sure you think it is okay for some one to die for a lie as long as you get a Bentley. I mean you look so hot in that Bentley.

Speak out about the crisis in Darfur. You do know where Darfur is right? Of course you don't.

Every day I wait for your 15 minutes to be up and you are still here. You are the Marie Antoinette of our generation.

We are all connected in some way, we are all part of the bits that make the whole that is mankind. Paris, realize your part in it and step up to the plate, you are more than capable.

You know what capable means, right? Of course you don't.

I hate New York, no really I hate that bitch!! BTW who is Tila Tequila?!

I am addicted to one of the worst shows on television. Like watching a bad train wreck or a naked crack head flailing on a street corner, I can't turn away.


What is it you ask? What could have me so addicted? What has me thanking the cable gods for "on demand"?


I will tell you, curious one. It is a show that has set women's rights back at least 15 years. It is a show that has reinforced the stereotype that black women (or African American women for all you nagging, pc, hippy, freaks) are nothing but sexually deviant, gold digging, bitches, with bad attitudes, no education, and over bearing and belligerent personalities. No wonder so many white guys want to fuck us. Nothing meek about a colored woman.



But I digress. The show I am addicted to is "I love New York". Let me assure you I have no love for that shallow, self absorbed, moron, who can't buy a bra that fits, to save her, trashy, hood rat life. So why do I keep watching it? I don't even flip during commercials.



Why? Why can't I stop watching this show? It is God awful!!!!!!



I can't stop watching her stick her repulsive tongue down random men's throats. I can't stop watching her wipe her lower lip after doing said repulsion. Every time I see it, I gag, just a little.



I can't stop laughing at her absurdly large implants that are so disproportionate to her flabby size "2" frame.



I can't stop watching her mom, demean and disrespect people with her classless and vile comments born from stereotypes and generalizations. Which is ironic given that she is the ultimate stereotype. Give her a vial of crack and she would be doing a similar ranting and raving on Cops. Yeah I said it people!! You thought it, I said it!! Sometimes New York's mother reminds me of a modern day version of Shirley from "What's Happenin", a great role model for Black women. Her name was Shirley right?


I cannot turn away from the shallow; metrosexual; meets body builder; meets cheesy guy, with shiny shirt, on coke at the night club; men that fight for her attention.



Why?!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!



These people are awful!!

Tiffany, aka princess, aka New York, aka the one who is super desperate to be on TV no matter what (given that she fell for Flavor Flav), is everything I was raised not to be. If I behaved like that, my grandmother would rise up from her grave and strike me dead. All the way from Ethiopia!!



Every time I watch it I think "what has become of America?". Quality entertainment has been replaced by shallow people, who are not even remotely attractive, with the i.q. of a three toed sloth on crack. They are sticking their tongues down each others' throats; conspiring to eliminate each other; and spitting on each other. Might I say they are doing it beautifully in spandex that is two sizes too small for them. Sorry celebrealists, last time I checked Dolce & Gabana did not make polyester, no matter what that guy on Canal St told you.

As I watched her make these hideous men (is it just me or is America getting uglier?...perfect examples Shia Le Beouf and Paris Hilton...fugly!!) sign a blood oath, I could not help but think, how desperate have we become? What has happened to America? Is this the new celebrity? What ever it takes to be on TV?

If these people, if that is what they really are, behaved like this in public (especially Miss New York), some one would have beat them into a coma a long time ago. Excuse me, where does that line start? I want first slap.

As young American men and women are dying in the Middle East for our administration's lies, we embrace the down syndrome that is reality television. How many soldiers died in Iraq today? No one can say. However, we can tell you all about Taylor Made spitting on Mr. Wise.

People like Taylor Made, with their rat teeth, hair plugs and Christian Dior Jeans have become our new obsession. Who will he fuck over next episode?

What bothers me most is that I find myself sinking into this quick sand. I catch myself running home to watch New York and her beast of a mother, bully and manipulate these poor men in order to get more ratings and endorsements. Sad thing is, neither of them can pronounce endorsement. I think big words frizz their European Silky weaves.

I could be doing macrame or writing my Senator or volunteering for Obama's campaign or reading a book, but no. Not when it interferes with Monday nights at 9pm on VH1. I could never do that!!!

When I am not obsessing over what moronic move is going to be made on I Love New York (every one on the show is a moron, not just It. Sure Punk, you went to Harvard, and I won a Nobel Prize), I am checking my "on line TV guide" to see when a new episode of "Shot at Love With Tila Tequila" is going to be on.

By the way, who is she? A bi-sexual Internet star? Is that who she is? Because to me she just seems like a shallow Asian chick, who has had too much plastic surgery. She even had the eyelid procedure to make her eyes look like a white girl's. Way to insult your heritage, Tila. Do they even have Tequila in Asia?

Yes "A Shot at Love" is my other guilty pleasure. All of my lesbian friends are a little butch and self respecting. Some times they can be a little aggro, but I think that is the law when you are lesbian in San Francisco. Remind me to ask one of my lesbian homies. But I am pretty sure it is the law. Any way, I had no idea that there were self loathing lesbians who were willing to behave like whores just to get on TV. You learn something new every day.

Don't get me wrong, there are some good reality shows with values. Run's House and the Biggest Loser are wonderful shows full of inspiration and good morals. Boring!!

I don't want good parenting and well behaved kids. I don't want to watch obese people have a better life. No actually I take that back I do. But only when I am PMSing. Those shows don't hold my attention like a bunch of shallow, oiled up, over sexed people, stabbing each other in the back before they fuck each other.

Sometimes I need a break from all of that. I need to get in touch with what really plagues the average American. That is when I unwind with some First 48 or Dallas Swat. I like to watch them actually solve a problem. At least I know some one in America is using their brain. Although the Swat guys seem like they maybe doing steroids. I don't like that all the shows center around arresting minorities. It seems like white people never get arrested on those shows. But that is for a later post.

I always seem to go back to the mindless reality. I get stuck in a couch potato like state. I become hypnotized by the love of New York, the shot at love and the quest for America's Most Smartest Model.

Somebody please help me escape. Help me get away from these horrible programs that drain my brain and turn me into another thoughtless cow, plowing through the pages of Us to find out what lip gloss J Lo is wearing! Please, help me....please...help, please? Any one? Oh you're watching The Hills. Sorry to bother you.

Wait doesn't Project Runway premier next week?

Racism is the new black in Hollywood

Newsflash, Dog the Bounty Hunter uses the word Nigger to refer to black people.

I know I could not believe it either!! I mean who would think that some trailer trash, mullet wearing man, whose wife weighs 400 lbs, has bleach blond feathered hair and wears spandex like she's the voluptuous girl at Hooters, is a racist? It took me by surprise too.


But don't worry people, he apologized so it is okay. That's how Hollywood works.

I have never seen their show. I can't look at ugly people with bad skin and mullets for more than five minutes without getting nauseous. Was that rude? Oh, I'm sorry.

Sorry is the new hall pass for racism in Hollywood. It's the new "we are full, oh I did not mean you I meant other black people, wow you are so articulate".

So all you casting agents, go ahead and ask the black girl if she can be more ethnic and street, you know be more black in her audition. If she gets offended that you think all black people should be ghetto, that you can't grasp that there are different types of black people in this world just like there are different types of white people, just say sorry and everything will be alright. I mean every one knows that if you could have black people do the show in the watermelon patch, America would be able to relate to it easier. After all, all black people are uneducated, come from broken homes where the grandma is raising the kids, the mom is on crack and the dad is in jail. That is what makes America feel comfortable, the familiarity that Hollywood tells them to accept.

Was that not ok? Sorry.

Drive drunk, get caught and call the arresting officer a dirty Jew, no problem, just say sorry and go to rehab. But if your apocalypto doesn't do so well at the box office, then we are going to hold that against you.

Some people don't even have to say sorry. Look at Paris, she was caught referring to some one as a "stupid nigger" several times and no one said anything. It is because she is so rich. Once you reach a certain income level, you can use baby blood to moisturize your skin, and it is ok. But only if you are white, sorry Oprah. Actually, I take that back, I think that Oprah is so rich that she is now legally white, right?

Even every day bigots (compared to Hollywood super-star bigots) have tried to rationalize their behavior. I remember the time a white acquaintance of mine, told me he could not stand niggers. Once he saw the look on my face, he then clarified. " What I mean is that there are black people and there are niggers. You are black, you know like Bill Cosby black, it's different and you're my friend, I love you...... I'm sorry"

You're sorry? Oh well that makes it ok, then, ..... you're sorry and you consider me black and not a nigger, like the ones that Masta kept in the big house ? Those black people?......what I haven't been returning your calls?.....I'm sorry, does that make it okay you racist, inbred piece of shit? Remind me next time I see you to shove my collection of Bell Hooks books up your ass.

Was I being hostile? Oh, sorry.

Just because I talk like a white girl, some white people feel they can say anything to me. Almost as if my blackness left the room and would not hear it.

American pop culture is way too busy looking for the next big thing to remember how inappropriate some self absorbed, chemically dependent bigot is ....... put Imus back on the air, let Kramer rant, and put the Jena 6 in jail!!! Oh sorry I should have made it clear, only white people get the "I'm sorry pass."

So the point is we can do anything we want so long as we show remorse after the fact. Some one should tell George W Bush and Dick Cheney. On second thought don't, I think the "I don't recall" is their m.o.

Go forth people, go forth and offend, go forth and discriminate, go forth and snort and have it result in absurd and offensive behaviour, so long as you remember to be sorry, every thing's gonna be alright!!!

I know I hit that woman's car with mine while I was escaping from the paparazzi, and I did not leave a note, but what is the big deal? My car was fine. Oh that's not ok? Ooops I'm sorry. Is it ok now? Cuz I gotta go do some drugs, speak in an odd foreign language and neglect my kids. I'm on a schedule....sorry