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Job Creasian

Growing up SoCal style in Orange County, one is forced to at all times have an acute awareness and even physical proximity to the Haven of All Happiness, Disneyland. Tucked in between the baseball stadium, orange groves, train tracks, and strip malls of Anaheim, Disneyland may be just another fun amusement park to the average tourist–but for local teens, the place is (or was, in my day) the stuff of dreams: you could actually work at the Happiest Place On Earth! And if you did, you could actually make more than minimum wage, see inside Minnie Mouse’s suit, walk the secret tunnels from Tomorrowland to Frontierland, or lose your virginity in the People Mover. Good stuff!

Some of these jobs, however, were not so happy. Back in the day, I knew an unfortunate few whose not-so-happy duties included following the Main Street horses around the park (see photo, above), all the live-long afternoon, waiting, just waiting in case of a CODE BROWN.

What’s CODE BROWN, you ask?

Why, a pile of horse shit (the real stuff, not just what Dana Perino barfs up every day):


In response to a CODE BROWN, a group of young workers must circle the…er…brown, mask their behavior, collect and dispose of it without ruining a child’s day/fantasy vacation/photo-op with Daffy or allowing an angry, obese lady with an unusually loud voice to step in anything that has been evacuated from horse bowels.

It’s a–pardon the pun–shit job. And I’ve always kinda thought that following a bunch of sad, trained, slow-moving horses (on the hottest of days, at the most saccharine of Main streets, surrounded by the loudest of kids and smelliest of tourists), just walking alongside and waiting for them to defecate all day just so one can clean all of the shit up…sounded like, basically, the worst possible job (well-digging, Nike factory labor, and prostitution notwithstanding).

Until, of course, I realized that somebody has to impersonate a monkey pest for a living. Imprimate, I mean.

What a weird, fucked-up, monkey job.

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Adult Diapers: The Musical

The following photos were taken from a Japanese fashion show designed to destigmatize incontinence by featuring adult diapers (what with 20% of Japan’s population over 65). But I like to think of it as scenes from Adult Diapers: The Musical.


[CHORUS]

So fucking what if we peed in our pants
That doesn’t mean we don’t stand a chance
In life
In love!

So fucking what if we peed in our pants
That doesn’t mean we can’t make romance
In life
In our pants!

So fucking what if we peed in our pants
That doesn’t mean we can’t sing and dance
On this stage
In da club
In our hearts!

[YOUNG GUY]

I’m OK
You’re OK
But I think you’ve got some leakage

[OLD GUY]

That’s OK
It’s the story of my life
Always got some leakage

[TOGETHER]

Depends
Isn’t always dependable
Poise
Becomes expendable
How can you be happy
When you’re wearing an adult nappy?

You can call it incontinence
But it’s the same on all continents
Adult diapers bring us shame
And we’re not to blame!

Depends
Isn’t always dependable
Poise
Becomes expendable
But we must find a way to be happy
Even wearing an adult nappy!

ADULT DIAPERS: THE MUSICAL is a tour de force. Piss-in-your-pants funny.” – Amy Spelman, The Record

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Spunky vs. Perky, Round II

Last week, after Sarah Palin felt a barrage of public shame and ridicule after her sub-sub-par interview with Katie Couric–and was subsequently busted by the media for flippantly stating a position on Pakistan that McCain chastised Obama for during Friday’s debate–she did what any empowered woman running for Vice President would do!

She got Big Papa to hold her hand and pay another visit to that blinky, mean ol’ Katie Couric! Heaven knows daddy McCain could straighten that bitch out (first step: hate the game, not the player)–like only a good man would.

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BABEWATCH: Sunita Williams

Name: Sunita Williams (née Pandya)

Age: 43

Occupation: NASA’s Deputy Chief of the Astronaut Office

Why She’s a Babe: It’s no secret that we have a thing for astronauts. But even among people who have the Right Stuff, Sunita is exceptional. She holds the record for the longest spaceflight for a woman, at 195 days. She ran the 2007 Boston Marathon–in space, in four hours and 24 minutes. Then she ran it again, on earth, in 2008. And for a Naval officer and total badass, Sunita has really sweet, endearing qualities. Like how she brought samosas with her on her 6-month space odyssey. Or how she got her long hair cut on that mission to donate to Locks of Love. On top of all that, she’s a rabid Red Sox fan…so, yeah, she’s basically our idea of a perfect woman.

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AMAZIANS OF THE WEEK! The Shenzhou-7 Taikonauts


Names: Zhai Zhigang, Liu Boming and Jing Haipeng

Hail from: China

Occupations: Astronauts

Known for: Completing China’s third ever manned space mission, a 68-hour voyage that included a spacewalk–marking a key step in the country’s mission to build a space station and eventually make a lunar landing.

Our peeps LOVE the moon–anything that brings us closer to it is pretty damn fantastic, right?

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Thanks, Jen!

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Wax Creasian


My one piece of advice to those at the National Museum Wax Art Exhibition in Beijing: If you’re going to bother making a wax figure of Michael Phelps, it’s fine to get his face wrong…


…just get his body right.


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Gimme a D-O-L-L

The Cowboys lost yesterday to the Redskins, putting a major damper on all the too-early-in-the-season-Super-Bowl-chatter. In related news, I learned this week that the Dallas Cowboys Cheerleader Barbie only comes in three flavors: vanilla (“Caucasian”), chocolate (“African-American”), and coffee (“Hispanic”). Is the first Cowboys loss of the season and this doll-item related? Probably not. (Dallas’ bullshit-secondary is the more likely culprit.)


But what the F is up with that, Big D? What about all those little Asian girls who want to grow up to be fake-breasted, skimpy outfit-wearing, dirty dancing-hobags, risking disownment and alienasian from their families? Who will they model themselves after?


Oh. Well, okay. Never mind.


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SPORTS ILLUSTRASIAN: Chinese Gymnast Slips Us Some Tongue

First, gymnastics officials investigating the ages of the gold medal-winning, Chinese women’s team at the Beijing Olympics announce that they’ve expanded their inquiry to include the 2000 Sydney Olympics squad. Then the AP reports that Yang Yun, a member of that team, said last year in a televised interview that she was 14 at the time of the Sydney Games. Last week, however, Yang claimed she made a mistake:

“Everyone has misspoken before. On television shows, there are always slips of the tongue,” she said.

Which, frankly, I think is not so true these days, what with TV stars hating their co-stars and fearing the herp and TV make-out sessions being completely sexless in general.

Dan Humphrey = Duck Lips

Another problem with Yang’s statement…I thought we already established that the Chinese are good at math?

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My Own Private Katrina


Okay. So Ned Lamont ran against Joe Leiberman in 2006, defeating him in the Democratic primary (causing Leiberman supporters to invent their own party and thus giving rise to the Connecticut Senator’s “independent” shenanigans), which was totally cool because Leiberman is a no-good, pro-war, conservative douchebag. But what might be douchier than Leiberman-in-political-drag is 20-year Greenwich, CT resident Lamont hearkening back to one of the deadliest natural disasters in the history of mankind–namely, the 2004 tsunami–by comparing the current financial crisis to that storm, AND, on top of that, calling the crisis his hometown’s very own “Katrina”:

It’s a Wall Street town. Everyone is shaky,” Lamont said at midweek. “It really is a financial tsunami, and it could go either way. It took Japan 20 years to recover from their buying binge [in the 1980s]. How long does it take us to work through the excessive leverage? That could take us years, not months. This is our Katrina.

I know shit’s bad on Wall Street and its attendant bedroom communities like Greenwich, and maybe just maybe I can see some parallels between this Fairfield County townpopulation 62,751, median income $157,232, median home price $1,449,500, home to over 100 hedge funds–and Katrina-ville, USApopulation killed 1,836, population displaced in New Orleans alone 180,000, median income $27,355, property damage $90,000,000,000, home to over 200 homicides last year (just in New Orleans).

But tell me something, Ned Lamont–personal fortune estimated between $90 and $300 million–does Greenwich, CT have jazz? Vampires? Shrimp po’boys? Black people? A frequently-sucky NFL football team with awesome team colors?!

I didn’t think so. Greenwich’s “Katrina,” my ass. What a douche.

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What to Do if You Love Trannies, Hookers, and Internet Porn?


If you’re in New York or L.A., go see The Amazing Truth About Queen Raquela this weekend. This movie, a sort of fictional doc about Raquela, a transsexual dreamer from the Philippines, is filled with things DISGRASIAN loves: trannies, prostitution, Pinaysians, Internet porn, Paris, and cigarettes. The story is loosely based on star Raquela Rios’s life as a “ladyboy” in Cebu City. It is a fairytale without a fairytale ending, a story with a middle but seemingly no beginning and no end, a dream state that takes you from the Philippines to Iceland and then to France. Even if you’re not into trannies, prostitution, Pinaysians, Internet porn, Paris, and cigarettes (in which case, WTF is wrong with you?!), see Queen Raquela for its hazy verité beauty that is equal parts Lars Von Trier, Jean-Luc Godard, and Wong Kar-Wai (and any other auteur with a three word-name, which, coincidentally, Raquela‘s director, Olaf de Fleur, also has).

Click here for theaters.

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Debate Preparasian


So tonight’s Presidential debate on foreign policy, the first such meeting between Sen. John McCain and Sen. Barack Obama is now confirmed to be on like Donkey Kong! We can’t help but wonder if The Maverick is feeling a little twinge of regret over his decision to selflessly suspend campaigning while his opponent continued to hunker down like a Hardass Asian Student in three days of intensive debate prep. As our parents always say, “When preparing for an important test: study until you want to die, or else kill yourself.”

If McCain, for lack of preparation, finds himself fumbling for an answer, might we suggest looking to running mate Sarah Palin for guidelines:

1) If a question includes big words, respond with a sentence that includes the phrase, “shore up the economy.”

2) Remember: we are in a crisis mode! Or something! Crisis mode!

3) Always keep your eye on Putin when he’s flying overhead.

4) If needed, drug your child and coo over it for the cameras. Use a baby with a mental disability for maximum effect. If you do not have a baby or young child with a mental disability, an adopted child of color will suffice.

5) Be sure to tease your hair before going on camera.

6) Divulge no information. Stick to making fun of “hope” and cutely wrinkle your nose when necessary. Oh, and “Drill, baby, drill!”

7) Say “John McCain” as much as possible.

8) If you’re asked to cite an example and can’t think of one, just say, “I’ll try to find you some and bring ‘em to ya!

9) If you’re feeling bullied, remember that you were a beauty queen and/or prisoner of war and everybody else is just jealous.

10) Declare war on Russia.

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When Morons Who Have No Business Being in Leadership Positions Collide

Governor Palin stages a totally meaningless photo-op/converses with an intellectual equal, finally/takes the first baby step toward being able to find Pakistan on a map meets with Pakistan Prez Asif Ali Zardari on Wednesday

ZARDARI: You are more gorgeous* than everyone has been saying. Not at all like a porn star.

PALIN: Thank you so much! Now, um, may I ask you, are you also a mother? I have five children. One of them is special-needs. Well, um, okay, two.

ZARDARI: Now I know why the hole of America is crazy about you.*

PALIN: In what respect,* President, um, (looks furtively at notes written in ballpoint ink on her right palm) Zar-dar-ee? Is that how ya say it?

ZARDARI: Did I say “hole”? I meant, “whole.” Oh, homonyms!

PALIN: You know, I’m glad you mentioned that. Because it is my understanding* that homonyms can be converted back to, um, um…normal people.

ZARDARI: The photographer is now insisting that we shake hands for the photo. If he’s insisting, I might hump, er, hug.** You. (clears throat) Hug you. I might hug you.

PALIN: Where is Pakistan exactly? Can I see it from my house*?

ZARDARI: (sexy, come-on voice) Why do you ask? Is it the mustache? Hubba-hubba.

PALIN: Thank you, sir, for meeting me today. I feel like I have a much better understanding of Pakis after this.

ZARDARI: And I of Alaskanis!

*these lines were pulled from actual interviews

**the real line was: “If he’s insisting, I might hug”

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Thanks, Mohammad!

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