Take that you sorry scum sucking monkey licking short person.

Oh God. Bristol Palin has broken up with her Baby Daddy! As I'm sure you are, I am just sick about it. I can't eat, I can't drink (except tequila) and my stomach is in knots.

To be fair that could be because I'm so upset or because I've been drinking tequila on an empty stomach.

Somebody tell me why, OH WHY, is Bristol's break up on the news? What in the hell has happened to this country? A high school girl who got knocked up is so NOT news. A high school girl who breaks up with her boyfriend is beyond NOT news.

Listen, I made an art form out of breaking up with guys when I was in high school and no one ever had the decency to even mention it on AM radio. I once broke up with a guy because his teeth looked funny. He was tall, dark and handsome, too... until he smiled.

I tried desperately not to be so superficial. I also tried never to say anything funny or nice around him. In fact, I'd start every date by climbing up in his Jeep and telling him my cat died or I'd just found out I was going to have to have my leg amputated below the knee.

It was no use. He was a happy person who simply insisted on smiling. He had to go.

Then there was the guy who referenced Ted Nugent way more than was necessary or tolerable. First of all, Ted never said anything that made any sense to anyone. Second, what kind of person worships at the alter of Ted Nugent?

He was gone in short order. As soon as I got my Valentine's gift, it was so over.

Recently through the power of Facebook I've reconnected with someone that I ran around with all through high school. His girlfriend was my BFF and they dated for a million years. Since they stuck it out together and I was always switching boys to match my outfit, we were like a three headed teenage monster.

I got an email from him the other day offering to retroactively beat up an old boyfriend of mine. At first I said ha ha ha at the idea of going back in time and punching someone in the eye because he was a short goober who acted like I was his goobery possession.

But upon further reflection I've decided that would be awesome.

I think he should track the guy down, walk into his place of employment and begin wailing on him while yelling, "You were mean to Sherri in 1981 you son of a monkey licker!"

Maybe that would make the news. I know it would be a hell of a lot more interesting than Bristol Palin's love life. Then again, so is watching my dog try to eat peanut butter.


Copyright © Sherri Bailey
This blog may not be reproduced in whole or in part without the express written permission of the author.

Queer eye for the Democrat guy.

Anderson Cooper, be still my heart.

Kids, if you didn’t see the Democratic Debates courtesy of You Tube and CNN, you missed the single most human thing to happen to politics since Old Bush said howdy to the Prime Minister of Japan by projectile vomiting.

Regular Americans and not so regular Americans alike grabbed their video cameras and via You Tube, asked a panel of Democratic hopefuls questions that came straight from our collective curiosity. Mr. Man and I sat with our mouths open staring at the TV, fully aware that we were witnesses to history in the making. We broke the stunned silence in the living room only occasionally with our brand of brief, albeit highly intelligent commentary.

“Shut the hell up! Did he really just say he was all for health care for undocumented workers because he doesn’t want them infecting the rest of us?”

Oh it was good stuff.

In much the same way Little Billy Clinton admitted he had smoked pot but never inhaled, I must admit I was once a Republican. However to the best of my recollection, I never started a war because someone pissed off my Daddy.

If I had, there would be lots and lots of wars. Actually, I’d have to bomb myself like a billion times and all my ex-boyfriends, husbands and my Mother would already have been blown to smithereens.

I loved being a Republican. It made me feel powerful, like that dorky kid of questionable intelligence who loves nothing more than watching ants catch fire under the big magnifying glass he stole from an even dorkier exchange student.

But, after 9-11 and hurricane waters and a war some of my friends were bound to fight, I began to think maybe I was playing for the wrong team. So, I did that which would cause Ann Coulter to spontaneously combust. I took a deep breath, held a super secret and completely pointless ceremony and declared myself a Democrat.

Imagine my delight this evening when my brand new party stood before our country and acted sort of half way like real people. Sort of.

Questions from citizen journalists, questions I myself wanted to ask, came one after the other. Candidates had no time to think it over or have a team of political spin doctors decide how best to answer. Would you do your job for minimum wage? What about gay marriage? What are you personally doing about global warming? Have you talked to your kids about sex and if so, did you call your dangle a pee-pee or a penis?

Even more interesting than the questions sometimes were the candidates themselves. The former Sen. Mike Gravel (Alaska) was angry about pretty much everything. He put me in mind of an old boss I used to have who would scream at you if the Coca-Cola he asked you to bring him wasn’t served on a tray with a napkin folded perfectly in half. I felt I should phone a hotline and tell them to do a welfare check on his wife.

Joe Biden insulted a YouTube guy who referred to his giant gun as his baby by saying he was probably too insane to even own a gun. After realizing that he had just publicly talked smack on a dude who possessed the ability to shoot him in the head from a tremendous distance, he told Anderson Cooper that he hoped the guy wouldn’t shoot him.

I thought that was smart. Nothing appeases a crazy, gun-toting person like insulting them again.

But probably my favorite moment as a virgin Democrat came when John Edwards was asked to say something he liked about Hillary Clinton and something he didn’t like about her. Who remembers what he liked. It was probably something about her ability to effectively stifle her late night sobs while her husband played Hail to the Chief with White House interns. What he didn’t like however was what she was wearing. “I don’t know about that jacket.”

For those of you that don’t speak North Carolina, allow me to translate. “Although I am a straight man who opposes gay marriage because of my religious beliefs even though I swear my religious beliefs will not influence my presidential policy, I used to watch a lot of Queer Eye and I try to live my life each day by asking myself in every situation, WWCD. What would Carson do?”

Oh, John. Damn your passion for fashion.



Copyright © 2004-2007, Sherri Bailey
This blog may not be reproduced in whole or in part without the express written permission of the author.

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