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November 13th, 2006
02:58 pm - Americans solve crime faster than Brits
According to Britain's Daily Mail, an 18 year old woman made a rape accusation against a man, which led to his 10 week imprisonment while he awaited trial. The judge determined based on physical evidence that the woman was lying about being raped (the sex was consensual), and sentenced her to six months in jail.
This is the woman in question:
All I have to say is that it would not have taken an American judge ten weeks to figure out no one raped this lady.
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02:42 pm - I'm so glad I'm not British
The British are notorious for having bad teeth, while Americans are known to be tooth-obsessed. I definitely am a tooth-obsessed American who is happy to have straight white teeth. My devotion to my smile makes the following story even more horrifying to me:
British man superglues his own missing tooth back into his mouth because of a dentist shortage
See also:
Damn am I glad to be an American right now.
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November 1st, 2006
04:58 pm - Lesson learned
Today I learned that if you are taking I-75 N and want to get off on Big Beaver Road, you need Exit 69.
I am 12 years old.
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October 30th, 2006
05:52 pm - Two items of interest
First, I present a pamphlet made available in my room in the Omni Hotel in Richmond, VA. This pamphlet made me feel less than safe about staying in that hotel:
The Omni is not concerned with preventing fire, oh no. They do want you to know that when a fire inevitably breaks out, you can probably survive it with these helpful hints.
Second, here is an ad for some sort of Halloween thing at a local orchard. I don't really understand the tag line and suspect it's better that way:
Current Mood: ![[mood icon]](http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/mood/acedia/littlegent/confused.gif) confused
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October 6th, 2006
07:36 pm - An extreme case of shrinkage
Location: Sam Harbor, Midwestchigania
Weather: Chilly
Last night, around 11pm, J and I headed to his house in separate cars. J arrived a moment before I did and parked in the parking lot associated with his housing complex. I made a U-turn to park at the curb outside the parking lot.
As I was turning, I noticed a man talking on his cell phone beside the mailboxes, which are at the front of the parking lot right on the street. I noticed him because it's unusual to see someone standing there so late at night, but then I also realized he was wearing weird, tight pants. I looked closer.
Weird, tight, hairy pants.
He turned so his back was to me.
Weird, tight, hairy pants with ghostly white ass cheeks.
Oh dear.
I got out of my car, wondering how I was to walk by this man without staring at his exposed bits, or calling attention to myself--as if a pantless man were allowed to judge me! I began to walk calmly over toward J, but was alarmed that the man instantly and obviously took notice of me. He watched me interestedly as I began to walk faster, almost running, across the short expanse of lawn to J's side. J, being a typical man, noticed that the guy was looking at me weirdly, but did not notice that the guy was completely pantsless.
Once safely inside J's house, we looked out the window to see what Mr. Pantless was up to, so we could call the police and report the incident. He was gone.
As was my innocence.
Current Mood: ![[mood icon]](http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/mood/acedia/littlegent/bouncy.gif) shivering
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July 18th, 2006
12:01 pm - An Amazon review
Perez Hilton, a celebrity gossip site, recently linked to a page on Stop The Rod, an anti-corporal punishment site, detailing the content of Lisa Welchel's book Creative Correction. The book details a comprehensive system of child punishment supposedly tailored to the particular misconducts committed. Ms. Welchel, who you may remember as Blair on The Facts of Life, strives to come up with a variety of punishments to maximize the effectiveness of punishment. Of course there is also a healthy dose of Jesus in the book, as Ms. Welchel has been born again. You can read some excerpts from the book at Stop the Rod (click the link above).
Perez urged readers to review the book on Amazon, and indeed many did, although Amazon now seems to be removing those reviews as quickly as they are posted. (Annoyingly, they are clearly not attempting to differentiate reviews by people who actually read the book from people who did not). I also submitted a review with the expectation that it would not be posted, and indeed it has not. I will post it below. But first.
Many of the reviewers have noted that Ms. Welchel's correction tactics are abusive, and I agree. However, I do not think they are abusive, for the most part, because of what they are***. That is, I don't think that spanking, for example, is abusive in and of itself. What I think is abusive is the atmosphere that Ms. Welchel advocates creating for your family, an atmosphere in which the child is denied a voice or autonomy. Of course children do not have equal standing to their parents; parents' responsibilities include "training" the child to be a successful and happy adult, a process which sometimes requires correction. However, children are also not property, nor are they slaves. Ms. Welchel talks about forcing her children to obey mindless commands such as touching their toes while walking in the mall, and punishing them if they fail to obey. She talks about how it is "fun" to refuse what even she admits is a "perfectly reasonable request" to go to the bathroom, just to test the child's committment to obedience. Ms. Welchel's children are not treated with respect, and I would even say they are not treated with love based on the excerpts I've read from this book. And that is why I think her punishments are abusive.
***That said, some of Ms. Welchel's tactics are simply abusive. I don't think you should ask a child to run barefoot through a yard to prove that he has done a good job cleaning up dog poop. But hey, that just may be me who thinks it's not cool to let your kid play in animal feces.
So anyway, here is my review:
Not truly creative, July 16, 2006
Reviewer: Smith T. Aames "s.t.a." (Washington, DC United States) - See all my reviews
My sister, Harrison F. Aames, recently obtained a new job that will take her out of town for business on a frequent basis. As a result, she has asked me to assume some childcare duties for her 4 year old son, Matthew, and her 6 year old daughter, Aruba. Since I have no children of my own, it seemed necessary to educate myself about parenting through books and other sources. And this is why I bought Lisa Welchel's "Creative Correction."
Unfortunately, Ms. Welchel's suggestions, while thoroughly outlining a discipline program, are not as creative as I had hoped. Ms. Welchel suggests a standard repertoire of corporal punishment integrated with verbal abuse and humiliation, along with a profound failure of the parent to respect the child. Although this program is impressive and likely effective, it's basically a rehash of the groundbreaking Joan Crawford routine, guaranteed to create a well-behaved and parent-loathing child. Stuck with no new creative avenues for punishment, I was forced to create some of my own. Let me offer them here in lieu of Ms. Welchel's suggestions.
1. If the child misbehaves in any way related to appearance, such as dirtying his or her clean clothes, smearing food on his or her face, or borrowing Uncle Smith's lipstick, the punishment should also be appearance-related. I plan to ask my friend Monty, who is a professional tattoo artist, to come to the house to ink each child's sins upon his or her flesh. If little Matthew can't stop getting grass stains on his khaki pants, well then he'll have his own permanent little garden on his misbehaving behind.
2. Any misbehavior directed toward my 17 dogs shall be punished by rubbing the child with cheese and raw meat, and locking him or her alone in the basement with the dogs for one minute for each year of his or her age. (Note: The idea to calibrate the punishment to the child's age must be credited to Ms. Welchel.)
3. Any misbehavior related to schooling, such as failure to complete homework or a negative behavior report from school, will result in the child being made to eat a ground up #2 pencil. The child may opt to mix the pencil fragments with liquid and drink it, or to eat it as a powder. While eating the pencil, the child will memorize a Shakespearian sonnet of my choosing.
4. If the child lies, his or her name shall be legally changed to a new name of my choosing. Example names include Scrotum, BunsofSteel, Pikachu, and Boogers. This punishment is especially creative as the name can be chosen to fit the lie.
5. Any sins of desire--for example, sneaking forbidden snacks or stealing/unlawfully borrowing others' property--shall be punished by forcing the children to watch acts of desire. The offending child shall be locked in a specially constructed cage in my bedroom and made to watch me fornicate lustily with my lover of choice. Any child who fails to watch the entire act shall be forced to help sponge bathe my lover and I once we have finished our intercourse.
Once I got started working on this on my own, I realized that you really don't need a book like Ms. Welchel's to be creative about correction! I can't wait to be a dad, sort of!
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July 7th, 2006
02:30 pm - A creepy haircut
I briefly stopped in the restroom of Beast Hall today, right before I exchanged all of my building keys for the $5 deposits I placed on them in 2001 and 2002. After washing my hands, I used a paper towel to dry them and was just about to dispose of the towel when I noticed something odd in the trashcan.
It was full of hair.
Now, I am a shedder. When I run my hands through my hair, more often than not I will carry several strands away with me. Then I will often brush these loose strands into the trash. However, the hair in the trashcan was not an instance of shedding. Oh no. These were bluntly cut clippings about an inch and a half long, like someone decided to engage in some impromptu bang trimming in the psychology department bathroom.
I don't even have the energy to be surprised.
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July 3rd, 2006
02:40 pm - Die, wasp
I decided to visit Lapin Perdu in the Great White North yesterday. I climbed in the BizarreMobile and began my journey. I hadn't traveled more than a few blocks when I felt a sudden and sharp pain beneath my chin. My first thought was that I had been stung, but I could not see any insects. Then, I noticed a wasp clinging to the zipper of my hoodie. I frantically brushed it off, then stopped at the next gas station to fuel up and check my injury.
When I stopped, the wasp was walking around the driver's side floor of the car and showed no intention of leaving. Unacceptable. I removed one of my flip-flops and urged him out onto the pavement, where he continued to walk around.
Suddenly mindful of my painful and swelling face, I was filled with enormous rage at this insect. I'd like to say I was the bigger person here, but I can't. I began to beat at the wasp with the windshield washing squeegee. For some reason, the wasp refused to smoosh and die, so I picked it up with the squeegee and drowned it in the fetid bird shit stew that passes for clean squeegee water. Rest in peace, asshole.
The best part of the incident was the gentleman standing at the next pump, not two feet from the scene of the wasp murder, who had no idea why I would be beating and drowning an insect. I wish I'd photographed his face.
Current Mood: ![[mood icon]](http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/mood/acedia/littlegent/angry.gif) angry
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July 1st, 2006
11:24 pm - Lifetime Television for Women and Gay Men
Tonight I had the privilege of watching James Patterson's 1st to Die on the Lifetime Television network. The movie stars the disarmingly chirpy Mrs. Michael J. Fox as a homicide detective hot on the trail of a serial killer who targets newlywed couples. More specifically, the killer targets newlywed couples on their wedding nights; his MO includes taking the wedding rings, and being much more brutal to the wife. Anyway, while I was watching the movie, I was taken by how stupid some aspects of it were. Is this something that Lifetime does out of a misguided expectation that women and gay men are dumb, or do these groups really appreciate these sorts of details? A few examples (WARNING: SPOILERS! DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE DUMB ENOUGH TO PLAN TO WATCH JAMES PATTERSON'S 1ST TO DIE!!!):
Lindsay, the detective played by Mrs. Fox, is diagnosed with a rare but potentially fatal blood disease early in the movie. It seems to be some sort of anemia, but she describes it as being "like leukemia" and states that she may have only six months to live. She uses this blood disease as an excuse to postpone her relationship with her detective partner, and is of course saved by an experimental treatment before the end of the movie. Strangely, the blood disease has very little effect on her work. She faints once, and once leaves a meeting to vomit blood in a sink, but is otherwise energetic and chipper. The treatment also seems not to affect her energy or performance, indicating that while her disease might be like cancer, the treatment is not like chemo. So my question is: Do women need a medical crisis plotline to get hooked on a film? Does it matter if that plotline is flimsy and stupid?
There is a scene at the end where Lindsay goes and has an out-loud conversation with the tombstone of her recently deceased lover. She is crying enough to show sadness, but not so much that her prettiness is affected, or her vocal clarity obscured. Maybe I am an especially emotional person but if I were sitting by the grave of my recently killed love, I think I'd be sobbing so much that my mouth would be full of snot and my face would be red like a baboon's ass. I also suspect my face would be permanently swollen from previous sobbing episodes. But not Lindsay! And also, does anyone really talk out loud to a gravestone? I was under the impression most people kept the monologue internal. But again, maybe women like this crap.
Lindsay is also so upset by her lover's death that she decides to play a single round of Russian roulette with her six-chambered handgun. Huh? Why not either kill yourself, or not kill yourself? I think this touch might have actually been inserted for the action-loving alpha male forced to watch this piece of shit movie by his domineering wife.
Even though many movies portray police and reporters as natural enemies, Lindsay is able to bond so tightly with a reporter that she gets the reporter to do some detective work for her and postpone breaking the story about the serial killer's identity for a significant period of time. The movie makes it clear that these two ladies bond because of an important shared feature: A vagina. Seriously, they have little else in common, and not much explains this friendship. I think women's movies need to show the natural kindship among the ladies to retain their hormonally impaired viewership.
The killer turns out to be a female who is masquerading as a male--as her own husband, in fact--using an EXTREMELY realistic latex mask. A mask so realistic that I am convinced that she never actually wore it; rather, it is clear that the male actor played the female character masquerading as the male character. The facial movement was just too perfect, you know? Especially for a low-budget television movie. Anyway, we're told in the voiceover by Lindsay that the female character's involvement should have been obvious, since she had once worked in movie makeup and was familiar with protheses. Yeah, I'm sure her previous work experience translated into big studio-quality masks modeled exactly on a living person's face. And clearly being a makeup artist translates to being able to craft these complex prosthetic pieces. I don't even know how this point relates to the stupidity of women's movies, since I'm sure it came from the book on which the movie is based. In any case I was offended by the stupidity of this aspect of the plot.
In the movie, the male suspect is eventually cleared when it is discovered that the female committed the crimes. However, in the course of the investigation he both assaulted Lindsay in plain view of about six other cops, and caused a car accident in a patrol car that enabled him to escape police custody. Inexplicably, he is never held accountable for either of these crimes. Why? Because women can't grasp complexities of innocence and guilt. Either the dude is totally innocent or totally guilty, right? No sense in holding a non-killer in jail for punching a police officer in the face!
In sum, I hated this movie. I hated pretty much everything about it. I hate Lifetime, and I hate television movies in general. Which is why I also watched Sharing the Secret, starring Alison Lohman and Mare Winningham.
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June 29th, 2006
04:58 pm - The hunting culture
I added the two particular Amazon reviews below because of today's misadventure at Cabela's, this enormous "sporting goods" store here in Midwestchigania. The old ball and chain and I took a drive down there this morning to pick out some hiking boots for a trip he's going on. Cabela's is a very popular Midwestern destination and is rumored to be the largest "sporting goods" store in existence. The size did not disappoint. However . . .
You may have noticed I put "sporting goods" in quotation marks. Now TBAC and I both grew up in the Northeast, where a sporting goods store can be counted on to carry basketballs, bicycles, skates, and baseball bats. In the Midwest, sporting goods stores cannot be counted on for this sort of merchandise. Here, "sport" means hunting, fishing, and camping. (As an aside, I can see how hunting and fishing might be considered sports, as both require some sort of physical effort, but camping? Does the ten minutes of set up really count as sport? Am I therefore sporting when I assemble children's toys, a task of roughly equivalent effort?) Cabela's enormous interior was almost exclusively dedicated to these three "sports." More frighteningly, Cabela's was basically a Northeastern liberal's nightmare.
The first thing that greeted us upon entering the store was men's clothing. There were two basic types of men's clothing available at Cabela's. First, the patriotic wear:
Second, the hunting gear:
Things were getting off to a bad start. And they were about to get worse. Just twenty feet into the cavernous store, TBAC nudged me. "LOOK OVER THERE," he hissed.
To the right stood two gentleman. One was wearing a t-shirt proclaiming "I like deer . . .deer burger, deer stew, deer sausage . . ." The other looked something like this:
Minus the gun, of course. Now mind you, this person was not a store employee, nor was he some sort of salesperson for the clothing company. He was a store customer who chose to wear this sort of outfit to the store at 9am on a Thursday morning. As you might imagine, this did not sit well with me.
We proceeded upstairs to the camping gear, where we confronted by more horror. Attached to the wall was a large moose trophy--just the head and antlers. It had a neck wattle like the uvula of a giant, or perhaps like a single and enormous dog testicle. And it spoke. In haunting tones, it invited us to practice hunting in the video game room just beyond--practice killing deer, moose, and ducks! Now, this might just be me, but I find it more than a little disturbing when an animal corpse invites you to practice killing other animals. But hey, that's just me.
The camping section also featured a fine selection of steel meat grinders, so that you can turn your prey into sausage even before you get home.
After the animatronic moose head, the animal situation just got worse. The shoe displays were each capped with a taxidermied animal, ranging from deer to wolverines to coyotes. Small signs identified each species. A large fake mountian rose majestically from the floor in the center of the store, waterfalls cascading down its sides. More dead animals clung to the mountain trails. Dead goats and deer looked helplessly at me as if to say, "Get out now, before they kill you too!" A pond at the bottom of the mountain was stocked with live fish, each about two feet long. The odor from the overly large fish in the overly small pond with its poorly circulating water added a special touch to the atmosphere of the store.
At the register I learned that you must be 18 to buy handgun ammo, but 21 to buy rifle ammo. I learned this information from a sign much like the one telling you about ages for buying cigarettes and alcohol at regular stores.
Then, when we were leaving, one last thing happened that will forever symbolize my trip to Cabela's. I noticed a store employee walking toward us carrying an enormous pooper scooper, probably from the "temporary kennels" available at one side of the Cabela's compound. I was so transfixed by the pooper scooper--because, come on, how often do you see store employees carrying pooper scoopers around?--that I failed initially to notice he was carrying it in an artifical arm ending in a claw.
I hear the original one got lost on a sporting trip.
Current Mood: ![[mood icon]](http://p-stat.livejournal.com/img/mood/acedia/littlegent/scared.gif) scared
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04:56 pm - Stump Likker
Bizarre Journali as Smith T. Aames reviews Evolved Habitats' Stump Likker
From the Amazon description:*Blended molasses, and minerals that react with moisture releasing vapors of minerals mixed with the sweet aroma of molasses *Pour it over a rotting stump and deer will come paw'n, knaw'n, and lick'n that stump out of the ground
say what?, August 20, 2005
Smith T. Aames does not understand. Is this product designed for hunting, or for gardening? Do you have the deer clear away your unwanted tree stumps by eating them, then kill and eat the deer? This is so confusing. We don't do this type of thing in Venezuela or Washington, D.C.
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04:48 pm - Coon urine
Bizarre Journali as Smith T. Aames reviews Coon Urine
Wow wow wow!, August 20, 2005
Although they sell this item as a hunting tool, I find it need not be used by hunters only. Personally, I like to spray a little of this Coon-Urine on my neck, wrists, and junk before a night on the town. I find it makes the ladies swoon and really separates the men from the boys. I recommend Coon-Urine for anyone who wants to smell manly like a man should, or anyone who wants to mate with coons (I'm looking at you, Robbie!).
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June 3rd, 2006
04:31 pm - Cloud Dance by Thomas Locker
Bizarre Journali as Smith T. Aames reviews Cloud Dance by Thomas Locker
Harkens back to my youth as a Native American
I, Smith T. Aames, have a secret. I was not always Smith T. Aames. Nay, I was raised an indigenous person. My original family was a small tribe of Native Americans called the Hopi, centered in Arizona. When I was a Hopi, my job was to gather succulent weeds and grasses for the tribe to eat. I think this early job was responsible for my interest in having dogs--I mean, it's very similar how I go about Washington, D.C. collecting roadkill and abandoned housecats for my dogs to feast upon. Just the other day I was able to capture an injured squirrel for my Pomeranian, PomPom P. Aames. PomPom really enjoyed the tasty, tender squirrel meat, although she did get some blood on my lovely white couch. I actually discovered a great upholstery cleaner as a result of this incident, but that is another review.
So anyway, I grew up a Hopi youth, clad in leather tunics made from the hides of the bison and dodo we hunted for sustenance. I eventually left the reservation at the age of 21 for the big city. There I learned to read, write, and make frantic love to beings of all types. After leaving the lovely arid mesas of Arizona, I began to miss many things from my youth. I would remember the beautiful Native American women lolling about the reservation, the euphoric highs I got from chewing on peyote and other plants, and the occasional visits of Kevin Costner so that he could observe our way of life for his epic movie. When I found this book, Cloud Dance, I knew I had found a way to recapture my youth--my former self, Barks-With-The-Hounds Aames.
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May 16th, 2006
12:01 pm - A response to Dear Abby
The following letter and response ran verbatim in the Dear Abby advice column this week:
"DEAR ABBY: I often order a cup of herbal tea with dinner at restaurants. I use quite a bit of sugar, and end up with four to five empty packets after I've sweetened my tea. What should I do with them? I've tried hiding them under the saucer, but they never seem to fit. -- TEA LOVER IN NEW YORK
DEAR TEA LOVER: Because the "evidence" is making you self-conscious, you could sneak the packets into your purse (or even your brassiere). However, speaking as a fellow sugar addict, my advice is to start cutting back on the sugar, because not only is it addictive, it also makes you crave more and more. And an hour after you've consumed it, you'll feel as fatigued as you felt "energized" immediately afterward."
I have a response for Abby.
"DEAR ABBY: Did you seriously just suggest that this woman hide garbage in her bra when dining in a restaurant? Are you on crack? What leads you to think that being caught shoving empty sugar wrappers in your undergarments is less embarrassing than having people realize you have a sweet tooth? I guess using this logic, it's better to cram that last bit of chocolate cake into your thong than risk someone seeing you nibble it. What I'm now curious about is how you'll respond to the letter from "Worried in New York," who writes because she notices that her friend seems compelled to steal garbage from restaurant tables by sliding it into her bra. Does her friend have obsessive compulsive disorder? Is she experiencing dementia? Hopefully, Abby, you will explain that concealing trash in one's underwear is a socially acceptable way of covering a not-particularly-stigmatized vice. I'd really hate to see where you tell heroin users to hide their stashes."
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April 23rd, 2006
04:02 pm - This just in: Asses now dispense Diet Coke, beer
Spotted on a mannequin at the mall:
Ladies' underwear bearing the slogan "This is what you've been thirsting for" across the rear.
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April 18th, 2006
11:11 am - Schwan's Hearty Potato, Egg & Sausage Express Bowl
Bizarre Journali as Smith T. Aames reviews Schwan's Hearty Potato, Egg & Sausage Express Bowl
The eggs, they kill me, February 2, 2005
I bought this Hearty Potato, Egg & Sausage Express Bowl 2 pack as a dare. My lady friend, Tatiana McGee, bet me a bowl of peppermint sticks that I could not successfully scarf one of these Express Bowls. I upped the ante a fistful of licorice sticks, and said I would successfully devour TWO of the bowls!
To make a long story short, Tatiana McGee won a delightful cache of candy, I am still feeling rather queasy after the momentous vomit I experienced, and my German Shephard, Cybill Shephard, has buried both Express Bowls in the yard.
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11:07 am - Philips HeartStart Home Automated External Defibrillator (AED)
Bizarre Journali as Smith T. Aames reviews Philips HeartStart Home Automated External Defibrillator (AED)
Still here to tell the tale, February 2, 2005
Thanks to the Philips HeartStart Home Automated External Defibrillator (AED), I am still alive! My chihuahua, Madame Voorhees, successfully rescusitated me last year using this AED. Since then, I have enjoyed my new lease on life by eating nothing but bonbons and drinking nothing but bourbon. I call it the "b.o." diet, which is very apt since I have also celebrated my new life by giving up bathing of all kinds. Why waste these precious moments in the shower when I could be spending them with Madame Voorhees and the menagerie?
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11:04 am - Confessions of an Heiress: A Tongue-in-Chic Peek Behind the Pose
Bizarre Journali as Smith T. Aames reviews Confessions of an Heiress: A Tongue-in-Chic Peek Behind the Pose
Ma fille Paris!, February 2, 2005
I am glad that Paris Hilton now has a book which will bring her more money. I imagine the publisher paid her a substantial advance, and that she receives royalties from the book's sales. Thank God. Now she can afford to eat some cheeseburgers! Or, if Paris is a vegetarian, some veggie burgers with extra cheese! I implore everyone to buy a copy of this book. Paris Hilton is the starving kid in China for our generation.
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11:03 am - Britney Spears' Heart to Heart (Paperback)
Bizarre Journali as Smith T. Aames reviews Britney Spears' Heart to Heart
Where is the hard hitting expose I wanted?, February 1, 2005
In Heart to Heart, ostensibly written by Lynne and Britney Spears, the authors discuss the childhood and adolesence of Britney Spears, culminating in her domination of the pop charts with Baby One More Time. As a factual overview of the events of Britney's early career, this book is adequate. However, the authors clearly have a secondary goal, which is to elevate the Spears family as an exemplar of a nurturing, supportive family. I felt that this secondary goal contaminated the usefulness of this book as a learning tool.
One example of how the authors' feverish desire to flatter the Spears family interfered with the objectivity of the book is in its retelling of Lynne and Britney's time in New York. At this time, Lynne left her older son at home and separated her infant daughter from her father, Jamie. The difficulties that the decision to live in New York must have imposed are formidable, yet quickly dismissed by the narrators. It was all worth it for little Britney to play understudy in a Broadway production. In fact, I would argue that the very same actions that the authors argue make Lynne an excellent mother (willingness to put aside her own and her family's needs for Britney's career) actually make her a terrible mother and wife. Lynne's other children and her husband were essentially abandoned by her, and Britney was deprived of a normal childhood. Although she reaped the rewards of fame, anyone who is familiar with her recent descent into wanton marriage, poor hygiene, and insipid public commentary would surely agree it has not served her well in the long term.
I also do not believe that Lynne and Britney wrote this book. At best, it is a "told to" tale, but I would actually guess it is totally ghost-written. As their postings on the official Britney Spears website have shown, both Spears women have deplorable writing skills. In addition to spelling and grammar issues easily corrected by editors, they also have clunky, juvenile prose styles. Moreover, the book rarely reveals anything truly personal about the Spearses. We learn little more than we could from the pages of Tiger Beat. After reading this book, I became quite curious if the Spears women are receiving royalties for the sale of this book they did not write. If so, I am then highly interested in having some anonymous drone pen the true tale of Smith T. Aames for my own financial benefit.
I think this book goes beyond tedium into dangerousness. Young girls reading this sugar-coated tale may not realize the many drawbacks to fame. I recommend that parents use this book, along with current photographs of Britney Spears using public restrooms in gas stations barefoot, as a teaching tool to demonstrate to children the developmental necessity of a normal family life. Furthermore, I scold Lynne Spears for her poor parenting and subsequent attempts to mythologize herself as an exemplar.
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11:01 am - Dessert Beauty Deliciously Kissable Hot Topping
Bizarre Journali as Smith T. Aames reviews Dessert Beauty Deliciously Kissable Hot Topping
Ill aftereffects, January 31, 2005
The Dessert Hot Topping does taste pretty good, although I would never confuse it with an actual food product. It is more like the way you'd think a beauty product would taste only less chemical. I have few complaints about the Hot Topping.
First, the Hot Topping leaves a sticky, slimy coat over my body after I use it. I find it does not absorb well. The problem is particularly pronounced in the more hirsute regions of my anatomy, if you get my drift. That's right, I'm talking downtown.
Second, the first time I used the Hot Topping, I ended up consuming about half the container. This gave me an awful tummy ache, and the next day I had some bathroom irregularities. I would not recommend consuming very much of the product at one time.
Third, I was disappointed that the scent and flavor of Dessert Hot Topping appealed so much to my pets. My golden retriever, Crayon Face, would not stop licking my legs after I applied the product. This was very annoying.
On the whole, I would recommend this product only to people without an alternative massage lubricant available.
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