December 31st, 2007
From my nipples to your computer screen… This is 15 Minutes
When did finishing a blog become akin to writing the last few chapters of War & Peace? Good god, it’s been like the world’s longest child birth for me, but without the help of pain medication and hospital-grade JELLO. If I were a woman and this was my time-consuming labor process, they would have had to shave me twice already…
So, I suppose it’s just overgrown cliche that as 2008 creeps into our mental lexicon, we look back at the year we’ve had in total disgust and horror. Go ahead and give an outward gasp, but doesn’t it feel good knowing that you weren’t the only one not buying into Al Gore’s environmental bullshit? A Nobel Peace Prize?! Give me a fucking break. I’m actually hoping to buy a few emergency generators in the near future that run on a combination of lead gasoline, the CFC’s in AquaNet, pre-adopted African children and the tanning solution that keeps Mitt Romney a healthy orange. If we’re really burning holes into the ozone at such an alarming rate, I want the right to name my self-created divot.
N’SUCK? I sorta chuckled when it came out that boy-band impresario Lou Pearlman was promising fame and fortune to his guys, all while inviting them into his bedroom on the side. Pearlman was the genius behind The Backstreet Boys, NSYNC and other well-known all-twink vocal groups. Where were the parents on this one? Another Michael Jackson-Neverland Ranch situation, where the parents were too wrapped up with dollar signs in their eyes to notice the fat guy porking their kids.
This man sweats butter…
Isn’t it ALWAYS the fat, sweaty, beady-eyed guy with questionable Romanesque decorating taste who’s the fraud? If history has shown us anything, it’s that men who accessorize with columns in their home are sick, twisted perverts.
Jacobs, wearing eye-wear from his new ‘Yenta’ collection…
I just heard that manorexic fashion designer Marc Jacobs has taken up residence with his former escort-now- ‘life partner.’ I can’t comment on two people in love, but will say that by the look of Jacobs, he’s now embracing the Karen Carpenter diet: A Splenda for breakfast, a healthy line of cocaine for lunch and a sensible shot of Makers Mark for dinner. Congrats Marc! You’ve never looked more sickly.
I’m over listening to airline customers moan and complain about crap service when they only fly twice a year. OF COURSE riding commercial aircraft sucks… That’s why you paid $7 for your round-trip ticket on Expedia.com. Frequent flyers have dealt with this abuse since long before 9/11, but suddenly the general public is demanding that Congress get involved, meaning we may see some kind of customer service hike before the they find the body of Jimmy Hoffa. The answer is simple: If you want better treatment from the airline, buy a more-expensive ticket. It also helps to be familiar with the ‘Rules of Carriage,’ which every airline in the US must abide by. It’s guarantees that while they may still treat you like a sequestered lobster, they must serve you a choice of Pepsi product and offer you drawn butter.
This doesn’t even verge on touching the Lord Of The Flies atmosphere that is the modern-day baggage claim. For an easy solution, I suggest buying everything you need at your destination, throwing your dirty clothes into a housekeeping laundry bag and wearing the hotel robe on the way home. Forget the laptop and carry an abacus. Embrace the airports who offer complementary booties so you won’t need to lob shoes with you. Sure, you’ll closely resemble Yoda, but think of the time you’ll save (and how much attention you’ll get from random Star Wars geeks).
This was undoubtedly the year of the popular celebrity meltdown: Thanks Britney for providing us with so much to talk about. In the madness of losing her parental rights, so many people forget how much she’s actually done for her children. Let’s recap the highlights of the Mother Hen, also known lovingly around my house as ‘Boozie McBoozerton.’
Some of Brit’s more helpful hints:
* Coors cans and dirty ashtrays can keep a 5 year-old busy for hours
* Jaden’s first full sentence: ‘Mommy like hers without salt…’
* When on tour (or passed out at a club), an atomized combination of Red Bull and Nicotine sprayed into the air keeps the kids thinking that mommy is at home.
Politically, it’s been the longest Presidential electorate known to man and sadly, it’s not even that close to GWB’s last week in office. Sure, I’d love to see Hillary sweep up and put a Clinton back in office, but something tells me that the American people want a guy who pronounces all four e’s in the word ‘shit’ to get elected. That being said, with just a little less awww-shucks sheen, it may be John Edwards’s year to step up to the plate.
Ultimately, what it will take is getting those 71 million people that didn’t vote in 2004 off their
collective asses and out to the polls. There was no excuse for Bush’s second term other than a nation that was afraid and unable to think clearly. Even sillier: All of the current candidates courting the youth vote (which I do admire), ultimately forgetting one thing… Youths don’t vote.
Obama on MTV, Hillary on YouTube or Edwards on BET (okay, I’d actually like to see that one), it’s never enough to get a younger generation out to voice their opinion. Maybe the current whopping 23% administration approval rating and teeter-tottering into Iran will wake people out of their stupor… Either that, or Oprah.
Yeah. Fucking Oprah. The woman who is now a demi-God in the eyes of overweight housewives worldwide is also the same woman who, not more than 15 years ago, had show topics like ‘My Husband Sewed My Vagina Shut.’ Keep that in mind the next time you’re watching her parade a new ‘Book of the Month’ you’ve already read back in high school. Really O, you think your key demographic will appreciate Harper Lee? I’d stick to Candice Bushnell and chick lit.
Tom Ford. Would you please button up your shirt, buy some shine control Clean-and-Clear toner and stop thinking you’re hip enough to grace the cover of Vanity Fair. Thank you.
Lance Bass. You’re out-and-proud. Congrats! Now go away.
Nicole Kidman. I’ve seen polished marble countertops with more lines in them than your forehead. Whoever is injecting your face with poison, please let them know you’d like to continue to be an Oscar contender in the future. On the plus side, maybe this will keep you from considering singing in another movie-musical.
Personally (and getting a little more serious here), this year has been a roller-coaster for me. My travel schedule had never been more packed, leading me to learn some not-so-hilarious lessons when it came to personal conviction, morals and time management. Looking back at how it all went down (and those who put that plagaristic intervention into motion), I can only give them my thanks. Admitting that it was impossible to keep every ball in the air, all of the time, was a wake-up call for me. I came out of that with a better sense of who I really was, while knowing my limits in the future and having the new ability to say ‘no.’ It sounds so simple, but it’s not
While my more public persona took a much-needed vacation, I personally continued to find success in work, writing and the people I surrounded myself with.
Weathering the Sen. Lott ‘scandal’ was interesting, as ultimately the source website couldn’t prove anything other than his desperate need for attention. Email came in droves, but what are you supposed to say in a situation that’s much ado about nothing? You can’t prove or mis-prove a negative. In hindsight, I thank Dan Savage, Perez Hilton and HuffPo for putting things into a more reality-based perspective. It may have been just a tempest-in-a-teapot, but when that scalding tea is being poured through your personal strainer, it tends to burn. I stand by my statement and continue as one of the best in my industry.
I can already see that 2008 is going to be an incredible year not only for myself, but for the readers of 15mm. A big welcome to all of the new readers we’ve picked up in the last month, as well as our loyal followers from years past. Thank you for helping make this space on the web leave a pretty entertaining footprint. It couldn’t have happened with you.
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