Be both.

"What If We Really Love All Humanity?"

"What If We Really Love All Humanity?"
by Steve Roberts Fine Art

Finally! A Solution to the BP Oil Disaster!

Courtesy of political cartoonist David Horsey:

Works for me.

If Thine Eye Offends Thee... Oh Really!

Sometimes I see something that is worthy of a skit on SNL's "Oh Really! with Seth and Amy" (bring back Amy!).  This is one of them.  KIRO Radio's Linda Thomas, AKA The News Chick received a petition from Monica Cole, the national director of  It seems Mrs. Cole was horrified to see this poster displayed at the Bath & Body Works store of her local mall:

At least that was the image portrayed in Linda Thomas' blog, followed by several comments expressing their disgust at Mrs. Cole's Victorian age sensibilities.  How could anyone be offended by THAT, I thought.  So, I took a little trip to my local shopping mall.  When I arrived at the store, what greeted me before I even entered was this:

Okay... I don't have a problem with the image.  I walked inside to talk to an employee about the controversy.  She said they were well aware of the issue and some of them were also offended.  Some of the employees had covered up part of the image but were told by their corporate office to uncover it.  The employee was agitated because several customers had complained to her, apparently for this image at the very back of the store:

Gasp!  She's... naked!  "Don't look, Ethel!"

"Why are you offended by that?" I asked.
"Because," she stated, "You can see her butt."


I've seen more butt on a beach.

According to the one millionth mom, Mrs. Cole, on her website:

This is not somewhere you would want to walk by or visit with your children, your teen son or your husband. To be bombarded with a poster of a nude woman pictured with her privates meticulously covered while you are shopping is not okay!

Malls, where teens hang out and families go for an innocent outing, have retailers whose window displays poison our children with 10-foot posters that are nothing but soft p*rn. In particular, Bath & Body Works has a new ad campaign with a naked woman with certain areas covered up by her hands and legs. (An asterisk '*' is used to bypass internet filters.)

Soft P0rn?  Really?  REALLY?  I have seen p0rn, and that is not even remotely p0rn, soft or otherwise.  A woman's nude, but modestly covered body is NOT p0rn.  I supposed Mrs. Cole would consider this p0rn as well:

Yes, Mrs. Cole would rather we go back to the Victorian era where showing a woman's ankle would be scandalous.  And I'm not alone in this view.  Some of the comments posted on Linda Thomas' article:

what th'--
"To be bombarded with a poster of a nude woman pictured with her privates meticulously covered while you are shopping is not okay." So... Mizz Cole would prefer the model's privates to be _exposed_? Whatta perv. ;-) Yo, Monica, turn it into a teachable moment, like, "See that model? The poor dear; she probably hasn't eaten in two days. See her lack of muscle tone? And that skin: Maybelline and Photoshop."

Um, it's a BATH and BODy store!!!
What else are you going to see? This poster is totally non-sexual. The image I get is that she just got out of the bath or shower and is enjoying the new lotion she just got. I mean, if it were a girl in pasties pole-dancing, it'd be another story, but this image seems to me to just be about feeling and smelling good with this stores products. My wife shops there quite frequently and I have no problem with my son seeing this picture. Heck, I don't mind him seeing even more sexual images, as long as it is in the proper context of a loving (preferably married) relationship without one party exploiting the other. People need to get a life.

Perhaps this comment is my favorite.

Your story about this subject resulted in a WIN/WIN for BOTH Bath&Body Works and Million Moms because you just gave BOTH a lot of FREE publicity and I suppose that's the purpose of your article.  Peoples opinions are already cemented on this type of subject as I'm sure your aware of.

For those readers who are not aware, I am both a woman and a mom.  I certainly want to protect our children from things that are harmful to them, but I do not see this as harmful.  Teenage girls will see this image and sadly wish they looked like the model, not realizing her perfection is a result of airbrushing and PhotoShop.  Teenage boys will see it and get excited.  But then again, teenage boys will get excited over this:

Victoria's Secret has much more sexualized images right at the front of the store or viewable from the entrance.


On a humorous note, I observed several moms in the VS store with their children in tow.  

Is Mrs. Cole going to demand that these posters be taken down as well?


I will use Mrs. Cole's information on her own website to  TAKE ACTION.

Please send Bath & Body Works an email urging them to KEEP these posters in their store locations and website.

Take it one step further by calling Bath & Body Works at 1-800-756-5005 and SHOW YOUR SUPPORT FOR THEIR TASTEFUL, ARTISTIC POSTERS.

I know I have a few moms out there who read this blog.  I would like to hear from you.  Or dads.  Or... anyone, really.

But I especially would like to hear your opposing points of view.  All comments are welcome.  Thank you.

My Mom, My Best Friend

My mom grew up an only child, but she wasn't in the least bit spoiled.  She learned the meaning of hard work by working in her mother's dress shop while other girls her age were at the local malt shop with their friends.   She went to a Catholic school and became known as the wild child by sneaking out to the field to smoke cigarettes with her girlfriends.  I can imagine the nuns were quite exasperated with her, but I think we would have made great friends if I had known her back then.

Like many girls in the late 1950's, my mom married and started her family right after high school.  I don't know what she was thinking when she had my brothers in 1959, 1960, 1962 (Jan.) and 1962 (Dec).  I came along four years later.

When I was born, my mom had been long since divorced from my brother's dad.  At that time, it was not socially acceptable to be a divorced woman.  Even worse to have a child if you were unmarried.  With these social 'rules' stacked against her, a social worker determined she was not fit to keep her newborn daughter and promptly placed me in a foster home.  My mom fought that arrogant social worker tooth and nail to get me back.  Two weeks later, she did.

The first time I realized my mom was more than just a mom was when her favorite cat died.  It was late at night and I awoke to hear sobbing.  It didn't register as my mother's voice because, in my young, six or seven year old mind, mommies didn't cry.  Mommies soothed their children's tears.  As I made my way into the living room, I discovered my mom leaning against the front door crying her heart out.  My first thought was, Who hurt my Mommy?  I'm going to beat them up!    She told me she found Hoppy, her beautiful Manx cat out on the road in front of our house; Hoppy had been run over by a car.  I hugged her as hard as I could, wanting to bring Hoppy back for her so her heart wouldn't hurt anymore.

My mom could be (and still is at times) ferocious.  Yet she has the softest heart of anyone I know.

Our family had our issues, like any other.  When one of my brothers was threatened by some local hoodlums, my mom invited them over to the house.  No, she wasn't serving tea.  She was serving a dose of what-is-going-to-happen-to-you-if-you-ever-threaten-my-son-again.  Funny... we never heard from them again.

When I became a teenager, a so-called, respected neighbor assaulted me.  Afterward, my mom knew something was bothering me and asked me about it.  I told her what happened.  Her face turned expressionless; she told me to stay where I was, then walked out the front door to his house.  After that day, my neighbor didn't talk to me; he didn't look at me, and he didn't even breathe in my direction.

We never knew what words my mom used to persuade these miscreants, but I don't think she put the fear of God into them.  I think she put the fear of burning hell-fire into them.  You messed with her kids at your own risk.

At the same time, Mom had a hard time turning away any unfortunate animals.  You can bet we kids took full advantage of that.  One of our family jokes is, Mom!  Look what followed me home!  She would get so mad at us for bringing home yet another stray, but we knew she would cave.  At one point, I counted how many animals we had - 7 dogs, 18 cats, a hamster, a bird, goldfish and a piranha named Igor.  Luckily, we had a large house with a huge back yard and a six acre field behind us.

I don't know how my mom survived and kept her sanity raising five kids.  We certainly didn't make it easy on her.  We were all absolute hellions.  And she struggled a lot financially.  At one point, she worked two jobs to keep a roof over our head and food on the table.  She even learned to make potato soup out of ONE potato and spices to feed us when she had no money.  She sacrificed so much more than I ever have to care for her children.  I don't think she has any idea just how much I admire her.  There are so many times in my life when I've wished I could be like her.  Really.  I know a daughter is not supposed to say it out loud, but when I grow up I want to be like my mother.

In every child's life, there is a turning point where the relationship you have with your parents will bring you closer or push you apart.  Mine came when I was a fourteen year old, hormone-charged, obnoxious teenager.  I was pushing the boundaries of exerting my independence and I was not considerate of my mother's feelings.  I had come home from being out with my friends.  I told my mom I was someplace I was not, and she called me out on it.  I wasn't about to get in trouble so I lied about it.  Bald faced lied.  My mom and I got into a big fight and then she sighed resignedly and said, "Sometime I think you hate me."  Hate you? I thought.  I love you!  But I didn't say it.  I stared at her defiantly for a moment, then turned and stomped off to my room.  I spent about an hour in my room arguing silently with myself, trying to decide if I wanted to continue being stupidly stubborn or swallow my adolescent pride.  I walked out of my bedroom.  With tears falling down my cheeks and feeling ashamed, I wrapped my arms around my mom and told her I loved her.  I didn't want her to ever think that I didn't.  I wasn't the perfect child after that, but I was always mindful of my mother's feelings.  And I have regretted my behavior every day of my life since.  Mom, please don't ever forget that I love you with all my heart.  Ever.

My mom is now my best friend.  She and I have talked about the meaning of life, the weather, religion, politics... you name it.  We don't always see eye to eye, but we understand each other.  I am so grateful to have her as my mother.

My mom is now 70.  She told me recently that she doesn't feel her kids need her anymore.  That's not true, Mom.  We just need you differently now.  As in needing your hugs when we visit.  Hearing your voice when we call, even when we interrupt your favorite TV show.  We still need your advice and wisdom when our lives aren't going as we expected.  We definitely need you.

My mom and newborn my son in 1989.  Aren't they beautiful?

Happy Mother's Day, Mom.  I love you.


Gulf Oil Spill... Like Rainbows and Chocolate Milk! UPDATE & CORRECTION

The Biloxi-Gulfport Sun-Herald in Mississippi reported on the visit and remarks of Rep. Gene Taylor and Marine Resources Director Bill Walker who flew over the Gulf oil spill on Saturday.

“At the moment, it’s not as bad as I thought it would be,” he[Taylor] said, shortly after returning from the three-hour tour.  Taylor told a group of reporters waiting at Atlantic Aviation he was less concerned about the spill after witnessing its movement firsthand.
“This isn’t Katrina. It’s not Armageddon,” Taylor said. “A lot of people are scared and I don’t think they should be.”  He described the spill as a light, rainbow sheen with patches that look like chocolate milk..."[emphasis mine]
He said the closest he saw oil was 20 miles from the Louisiana marsh and that it was further than that away from the Chandeleur Islands and even further from the barrier islands.
“It’s breaking up naturally; that’s a good thing. The fact that it’s a long way from the Mississippi Gulf Coast, that’s a great thing, because it gives it time to break up naturally,” he said.

I'm sure Taylor was trying to allay his constituents' fears.  However, I am quite sure he hasn't the slightest idea of the oil spill's ramifications.

Apparently, Dir. Walker agreed with Taylor's unconcerned assessment.

Walker said the sheen could collect on beaches and in estuaries, but it will evaporate within a week.
Walker’s plan is to let any sheen that makes its way into the marshes evaporate naturally.
“That’s what we will probably do, is leave it alone and let nature take its course,” he said.

Mr. W Finds A Home

Watch this to the end.  This is absolutely brilliant!

Let Them Eat Cake!

We all know the story of Marie Antoinette.  It is said that after being told that the poor had no bread, she proclaimed, "Let them eat cake!"  Many historians dispute Antoinette ever uttered the phrase.  But it came to represent how the commoners viewed the monarchy during France's financial turmoil in the late 1700's.  Antoinette and her husband, King Louis XVI, lived lavishly and spent extravagantly as Paris and the rest of the country sank into financial crisis.  It is exactly how many of today's working class Americans view Wall Street.

Yesterday, from a circulating email, it was revealed that we have our very own Marie Antoinette on Wall Street.  The coward who wrote the email chose to remain anonymous.  Perhaps he feared meeting Antoinette's fate.

This gutless invertebrate apparently wrote the following email addressed to the American people, but the degenerate snake sent it only to his fellow Wall Streeters.  From Joshua Brown's blog, The Reformed Broker, here is the email in all its glory:

"We are Wall Street. It's our job to make money. Whether it's a commodity, stock, bond, or some hypothetical piece of fake paper, it doesn't matter. We would trade baseball cards if it were profitable. I didn't hear America complaining when the market was roaring to 14,000 and everyone's 401k doubled every 3 years. Just like gambling, its not a problem until you lose. I've never heard of anyone going to Gamblers Anonymous because they won too much in Vegas.
Well now the market crapped out, & even though it has come back somewhat, the government and the average Joes are still looking for a scapegoat. God knows there has to be one for everything. Well, here we are.
Go ahead and continue to take us down, but you're only going to hurt yourselves. What's going to happen when we can't find jobs on the Street anymore? Guess what: We're going to take yours. We get up at 5am & work till 10pm or later. We're used to not getting up to pee when we have a position. We don't take an hour or more for a lunch break. We don't demand a union. We don't retire at 50 with a pension. We eat what we kill, and when the only thing left to eat is on your dinner plates, we'll eat that.
For years teachers and other unionized labor have had us fooled. We were too busy working to notice. Do you really think that we are incapable of teaching 3rd graders and doing landscaping? We're going to take your cushy jobs with tenure and 4 months off a year and whine just like you that we are so-o-o-o underpaid for building the youth of America. Say goodbye to your overtime and double time and a half. I'll be hitting grounders to the high school baseball team for $5k extra a summer, thank you very much.
So now that we're going to be making $85k a year without upside, Joe Mainstreet is going to have his revenge, right? Wrong! Guess what: we're going to stop buying the new 80k car, we aren't going to leave the 35 percent tip at our business dinners anymore. No more free rides on our backs. We're going to landscape our own back yards, wash our cars with a garden hose in our driveways. Our money was your money. You spent it. When our money dries up, so does yours.
The difference is, you lived off of it, we rejoiced in it. The Obama administration and the Democratic National Committee might get their way and knock us off the top of the pyramid, but it's really going to hurt like hell for them when our fat a**es land directly on the middle class of America and knock them to the bottom.
We aren't dinosaurs. We are smarter and more vicious than that, and we are going to survive. The question is, now that Obama & his administration are making Joe Mainstreet our food supply…will he? and will they?"

Pretty disgusting, eh?  This, from one of the people who contributed to the fall of our economy.  I don't know about you, but if I had lost BILLIONS of dollars (hell, a thousand would do it) for my company my ass would be out on the curb.  Not only does the writer NOT lose his job, but he has most likely continued to receive bloated, outrageous bonuses.  And he's proud to be vicious.   What a wonderful human being.  He is a steaming pustule on the ass of humanity.  

However, Mr. Cowardly Email Writer was not alone in his sentiments.  Michael Gould-Wartofsky over at the The Huffington Post noted that another Wall Street despoiler of American dreams had a similar, albeit not quite so detestable attitude.

One corporate bond trader, Brendan Plunkett, 46, of Essex Falls, NJ, was quoted by Bloomberg BusinessWeek as saying, "If they care so much about the country, they should go to work and be productive and stop with the protests."

 Really?  No...seriously... fucking REALLY?

Go back to work to what jobs?  Do you mean the jobs that don't exist because banks won't loan money to companies that can't afford to hire anyone because no one is buying anything because they don't have jobs?  I would suggest Mr. Plunkett and Mr. Email give up all their worldly possessions and 'viciously' steal a job from a third grade teacher or a landscaper (first they have to find a non-existent available position) and live off those earnings.  These worthless, Wall Street dogs live in an alternate reality.  Not to mention, I doubt they could handle a bunch of ferocious, finger-paint-up-the-nose eight year olds running around causing pandemonium.  Nor could they stand the back-breaking, all-weather work of a landscaper.  They would cry like little girls at the first sign of dirt under the nails of their finely manicured, baby-soft hands.

Ah, yes.  Here we have the modern day Marie Antoinettes, effectively saying, "Let them eat cake!"

Keep it up, douche bags.  You think YOU'RE vicious?  You and Blankfein, "doing God's work" are going to see this soon:

And in the words of Jon Stewart... Go fuck yourselves.
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