mayor of roubaix, france wages war on mayor mcCheese. declares, "you promised we would eat cheap crap... you lied!"

and who pays the price?

the mayor of flavor country (that's you, stupid!)

the mayor of roubaix, france has filed a lawsuit against quick, a belgian fast food burger chain that came to being when a quizno's franchise raw dogged a mcdonalds out back behind the long john silver's, and offers such delectable comestibles as the long bacon, the long chicken, the long fish, and the long painful shit.

i say, pick your battles, and don't pick on the little guy!

france is the king of fine cuisine, america is the king of fast food. you wanna fight the fast food industry, you pick on someone your own size, france.

the good ol' US of A is good at two things, eating insane amounts of nasty crap in one sitting (sidebar, we are also pretty good at sitting), and repeatedly penetrating more respectable cultures with our giant figurative ameripenis.

quick is a feeble showing in the fast food market when compared to america's more overtly sexual long john silver's, in-n-out burger, and wahoo's fish taco. sadly, quick missed the obvious sexual reference when they opted against the marketing slogan, "stop in for a quickie", whereas bold american fast food offerings such as, "finger lickin' good" and "if it doesn't get all over the place, it doesn't belong in your face" seem one step away from declaring "pop in for a nooner, we'll get all up in them guts" or "stick it in your mouth, then we'll go to the bathroom where it really gets rough". and while the big mac has become so synonymous with large cock, that customers have been known to find condoms under their crinkle cut pickles, quick's softy banana hardly smacks of raw passion and greasy meat between your buns. hell, quick ads have some cheesy soccer player happily autographing a hamburger bun, we got kim kardashian licking ranch dressing off her nipple in the bathtub! when it comes (cums?) to fast food, you can't outsex a country that has secret menu items called the mcGangbang, and "animal style". why we haven't invented a strap on dildo made of pulverized hamburger and fried potato is beyond me at this point (i call it the double bacon penetrator, and it's patent pending, as is the spicy chicken penetrator, capt'n tasty's wee willy fish fingers of passion, and the deli select artisan paninitrator. these are the jokes, people. if you ain't laughing, i got nothing else for ya)

but the veritable vacuum of sexual prowess exhibited by quick has nothing to do with why the mayor of sexe de bout, france is suing them. no no, it's the impending void of disease ridden, knuckle, bowel, and beak meat in their sandwiches.

oh, france, you complain about american cuisine, but when it all comes down, you are the namesake of our fast food staple, the julienne fried potato (or freedom fry, if you will). though you may mock a country where arby's roast beef sandwich offers fully 9 variations of it's basic roast beef before vegetables enter the condiment spectrum (is horsey sauce a vegetable?), lettuce and tomatoes trumped a whopping 4 times over by hot nacho cheese, when quick burger decides that they will switch from the traditional fast food offering of ground lips and assholes on a bun to halal meet only, well, we certainly see your true colors, don't we? oh, when it's time to insult the americans, you bleed blue white and red, but when your greasy meat pucks are at stake, it's the good ol' red white and... blue. uh, anyway.

in case you don't know what halal meat is, it's a lot like kosher. basically, you have to know where the meat came from, it can't be nasty parts of the animal, or something that you had to rinse feces off of, or come from an animal that lived or died inhumanely or unnaturally. so what we might consider free range, grade A, organic beef in the states would fall short of halal only because it hasn't been blessed in the name of allah.

quick has decided to switch to all halal meat in france because france has a large muslim population, but this apparently doesn't fly with mayor mcFromage. he thinks that a restaurant that wants to serve a certain kind of food is discriminating against people who don't want to eat that food.

huh?

so an oyster bar is discriminating against people who are allergic to shellfish? and pubs are discriminating against recovering alcoholics? (actually those two would be more like how a burger joint in a muslim neighborhood in france that refuses to serve halal meat is discriminating against muslims, if one were so inclined to cry discrimination, mr mayor). are mexican restaurants discriminating against people who feel like mediterranean tonight (anyone else feeling like mediterranean tonight?)? is best buy discriminating against the amish? are george clinton and the parliament funkadelic discriminating against yodeling fans?

what are you, simple?

this restaurant can serve whatever kind of food it wants, and if you don't like it, don't eat there.

that's how a free market works.

if i want to stand on the corner and offer to step on your testicles for a dollar, that's my prerogative. nobody's forcing you to pay for my services, though, so quit bitching. and don't sue me because you'd rather have some angry dominatrix in stilettos step on your testicles (anyone else feel like having an angry... ah, i'll just check craigslist), and certainly don't sue me because i'm a muslim, and you hate my people and want us to live miserably until we all die off.

but this story shouldn't come as much of a surprise from france where there has been a growing anti-muslim attitude in the cheese and menthol scented air.

so let's bring 'er on home, shall we?

france loves nasty, questionable fast food, and don't want to healthy up for nobody, nohow.

france hates muslims for seemingly no reason at all.

france is law suit happy.

france prefers food with names that sound like novelty dildoes.

france is america?

tiger woods made the oldest mistake in the book: he got married.

but he ain't a sex addict.

tiger woods has grown up a lot since he recently took a break from knocking his balls around.

he has negotiated a reconciliation with his trophy wife, he has converted back to buddhism, he is seeking therapy, his eyes have become chronically red and teary, and he has admitted to being a "sex addict".

mosteligiblemarriedmanontheplanet, say what?!

sex addict, he says.

i disagree.

first of all, sex addiction is not a psychological disorder as defined by the american psychiatric association's diagnostic and statistical manual of mental disorders (it's a page turner). some "doctors" hope that the impending revision of the manual will include hypersexuality as a mental disorder, but full disclosure requires me to mention that i don't put much stock in a book that once listed homosexuality as a mental disorder, and calls obnoxious spoiled brat syndrome ADHD so they can sell prescription drugs to toddlers.

so, definitional parameters of the APA'sDASMOMD aside, let's consider what sexual addiction has meant in recent years...

a married man cheats on his wife.

were you waiting for more?

because there isn't.

hypersexuality is what people claim they have when they get caught fucking around on the side.

i couldn't help it, i have a disease.

spare me.

hell, wilt chamberlain fucked just about everything with a hole in it (prolly even some bitches from cleveland), and he's a legend, considered one of the best (little known fact, he also played basketball quite well). what's the difference between legendary beaver hunter wilt the stilt, and depraved sex junkie "swingin'" tiger woods?

chamberlain wasn't married.

nobody had to chase him down like the terminator and bust through the back window of his car because he told some cocktail waitress (no, really, she was going to be an actress...) that he wanted to beat that stuffin' up.

now i'm not saying it's wrong to get married, and i'm not saying it's okay to cheat.

what i am saying is that

a) wanting to have sex with multiple partners is not a mental dysfunction. it can't be. a mental dysfunction must be something that goes haywire with our natural programing. as living creatures on this planet, our greatest natural instinct is to create and preserve optimum conditions for breeding and expansion of the population of our species (don't believe me? then tell me: why is suicide illegal?). having sex with multiple partners is step one in creating optimum conditions for breeding, but do we really need to have the birds and the bees talk right now? it may not be kosher, or moral in a modern civil society to fool around on your wife, and it's never cool to be disrespectful to people with regards to sex (unless i, um... they like it... call me a bitch! say it!!), but the desire to have many partners is perfectly natural.

b) stay out of tiger woods' business, dick.

the only reason tiger is claiming to be a sex addict is because he is now forced to explain to the world why he would do such a thing, and frankly it's nobody's business but tiger and elin, and their two genetically perfect super babies.

and let me tell you one more thing...

if any of us was in tiger's position... if you or i was some hunky mulatto, stanford educated, bazillionaire athlete, with a flawless smile, our own classy but casual clothing line, and a fully loaded buick lacrosse that runs on pure charisma, i'd be willing to bet that more than most of us would either have done the same thing tiger did, or we would have gone the wilt chamberlain route, but very few would be doting mr mom types, who slog around our 7,000 sq foot mansion in ratty house slippers and tell the waitress at applebee's, "thank you for writing your phone number on your cleavage so i could see it when you bent over to refill my beer, but as you can see by my wedding band, i am a happily married gentleman, and after i inform the manager of your lascivious behavior, i will need to be calling my wife to apologize for engaging in conversation with a woman who attempted to lure me with her tender, impure flesh". hell no. you're tiger damn woods.

but that's just the problem.

he's tiger damn woods.

even if he did tell the waitress he was happily married, etc, some TMZ douche is still there to take a picture of a waitress with her tits in his face, while he talks to her, and when photos of tiger damn woods show up on TMZ, harvey levin is gonna be there suckling out of his over sized novelty 80's water bottle like some emaciated hairless rat, throwing out asinine "too cool" comments like, "tiger should have taken a mulligan on that one. or whatever. is that what they call it? a mulligan? i don't know anything about golf. i mean who watches golf anyway? like, old people?" guffaw guffaw guffaw from the painfully unironically unhip "journalists" in the room, "yeah, uh, like richard nixon," guffaw guffaw, "richards nixon's like, old and stuff," guffaw guffaw, "so what did john mayer have to say about it?" "hey i'm john mayer, and that nigga fucked up... it's cool i got a hood pass, but i don't fuck with no black bitches, cause my body is a wonderlaaaaa-a-ah-and."

sorry, i just sort of spun off into my own little TMZ skit right there.

back to the point.

here's how we make this tiger woods thing all better,

1) as a society, we shouldn't have this bizarre unnatural expectation that everyone is going to get married and have 2.5 kids and a dog, and a big house with an SUV in the garage, and that they will be happy with that. if people want to be swingin' singles, let them be swingin' singles, everybody finds happiness in a different way.

2) people who know they like them some sexual healin' don't get married, but especially don't have kids. that creates an ethical and moral quagmire.

3) as a society, don't accept things that go against a social norm as dysfunctional outright, and as someone who gets called out for going against a social norm, don't play victim and hide behind some "mental disorder" that you can't control. it's time to take some responsibility for our own lives. your kids are obnoxious brats? sack up and be a parent, damn it! don't just dose them and say it's a disease. you like fuckin'? marry someone you like to fuck, or don't fuckin' get married.

4) stay out of people's business, and don't be hypocritical. it's none of your concern what tiger woods does with his personal life. he's a public figure when he's at work, not any other time. chiding him for his sex life makes no more sense than scolding him for sleeping in too long, or skipping breakfast, or lifting with his back, or worrying if he's having regular solid bowel movements. and even if his personal life does leak out into the public eye, as is bound to happen, don't hassle the man. how would you like it if you got caught running a red light because you were talking on your cell phone (dialing and driving is illegal here in california, for you non-CA readers), and suddenly you were rushed into some press conference where people were pulling out all kinds of pictures of you talking and driving, and one time you were even eating a burrito with one hand, while you steered with the other, and people were calling you reckless, and telling you about how their sweet baby daughter was hit by someone who was talking on the phone while they were driving, and throngs of disappointed friends and family were shouting their disdain, and your legal advisor whispers in your ear, "tell them you're addicted to multitasking, and the danger of driving with one hand really gets you off."

well, now we're just getting ridiculous...

aren't we?

where's your god now? a peek into the wonderful world of missionary work.

today, 10 american baptists faced a haitian judge to find out if they would be held to trial in country, or shipped back to the US to face charges of child trafficking.

real nice.

go down to the crumbling third world country under the guise of salvation (whatever that meant at the time), and then try to smuggle a bunch of children into the dominicanRepublic to sell on the black market.

i discovered this story on news hour, where the slant was partially biased toward neutrality (if that's possible), in that key details were left aside to make it sound like things were more up in the air. sort of like, "this is what we know, and this is all we know. we won't say anything else that might incriminate." but world focus had a lot more details, and it doesn't look that great for these bible beaters.

what the baptists referred to as "spiriting away" the "orphans" to a better life comes across more like kidnapping when you look at the details...

exhibit A: many of the children had families (some even still had living parents) to take care of them. one of the girls even says she was telling her captors that she was not an orphan and she wanted to go back to her parents, and was told in response that they were only taking her to the DR for a vacation. another child was wearing a sweater clearly marked with symbols used by the rescue workers to indicate that he was not an orphan.

exhibit B: these children were being kept in a shelter that could be called squalid even in comparison to what they were living in in the immediate wake of the earthquake. this is your salvation?

exhibit C: the children were not fed (not even a baby so young that she was not yet weaned from milk) while in the "care" of these particular good samaritans.

exhibit D: let's forget that the border patrol stated for the record that these children were being taken to the DR to be sold at 10 grand a head. we'll forget that because this statement was not qualified, and might simply be an assumption based on past incidents. let's talk about first world entitlement.

even if these children were being "adopted" and taken to a "better" life in the states, you can't just assume that children in poor or developing countries are public domain like so many soiled couches on college town curbs.

you can't just go down there and pick out one you think is real cute and take him home.

they're not just growing on trees down there, or falling off an assembly line. they have parents and families, too.

and you have to check these details out before you just stuff them in your carry-on and head home.

beyond this idiotic notion that undernourished brown babies are fashion accessories to prove that you were really there like a henna tattoo, or a puka shell necklace, who the fuck told us that our life is so much better?

scant days after the earthquake hit, some family in washington state had "adopted" some haitian siblings, and brought them back to the states. at this point in time people were still digging screaming victims from rubble with their bare hands. most rescue workers hadn't even hit the shore yet, and these kids were being "rescued" to a life where suddenly, rather than a mat on the floor and bare feet, they had boxsprings and mattresses and down comforters, and nikes in every color.

is this a better life?

a better chance at a good education, sure. a better chance at growing up healthy, maybe (we'll see how this healthcare thing pans out).

but there are serious faults in our lifestyle that we overlook. namely down comforters and nikes in every color.

a child in haiti would be beside herself if you gave her $100, but when she comes here and learns that $100 is just a pair of designer jeans for this year's back to school wardrobe, what have we done to her?

parents could put their children through the best schools in haiti with what the average american parent spent on one child's xmas haul last year.

the american hero is a farce, the american lifestyle is deeply flawed in its own right, and these so called pious good samaritans we've sent down there are nothing but selfish, entitled a-holes with no common sense, whether you think they are criminals or misguided do gooders...

if they thought they were doing the right thing, they have to live with the fact that all that religious dedication and they still have no idea what "the right thing" means. if they had criminal intent, they have to live with that the rest of their lives, in or out of prison.

at this point, i only have one question for these idiots:

where is your god now?

...chocolate rain!

how can i actively support the internet after nearly 7 hours (and counting...) of internet sensation tay zonday's "chocolate rain" on repeat?

i'm glad you asked...

the answer?

it's my new years resolution.

well, not supporting an institution that could spawn the fame (however brief) of something as horrific as tay zonday.

what it is is pushing my limits, one week at a time.

you see, instead of one, or one small handful of resolutions that will most certainly fail, or anyway, fail to impress, i've chosen to take on at least one resolution a week, for one entire week at a time.

this way, my year is wide open for numerous resolutions and adventures that i may have never pursued had i been so absorbed by one monumental resolution like quit smoking, or lose weight, or be more spontaneous (i don't need to work on any of those things anyway), or had i made a few silly resolutions that i foolishly attempted to adhere to for a full year.

here's a quick little por ejemplo, just to clear things up: as a declared and tested vegetarian, for one week i required myself to eat meat at every meal. what was great about the timing of this week was that i spent it in newOrleans, and so had access to such unique meatables as catfish, crawfish, alligator, jerk chicken, and andouille in their natural habitat.

and as part of my dichotomous personality, of course my meat week was planned on this week on purpose, because i also refuse to go through life missing key experiences, and to not gorge myself on real newOrlean cuisine would have big a terrible error.

on the other hand, there are action items like this particular week. this week i am subjecting every waking hour of my life to one particularly aurally offensive song (per day) on repeat. this doesn't necessarily push me to grow as a person, or experience life to the fullest, it's just a thing. a thing that someone thought up, and i couldn't think of a good reason not to.

look, despite a relative lack of necessity, mp3 software has this function (single item infinite repeat). i intend to abuse it.

i compiled a song menu from many suggestions, and as the need arises, i select the song of the day based on life's random cues.

day one found me pumping big yellow taxi, by the counting crows, and by the time it just became background music, my entire life felt like an episode of dawson's creek. later in the evening i started having a psychosomatic reaction to this noxious audio fart. i began to feel more and more nauseous each time the song started anew.

day two began with a lack of sleep (to bed by 1230, up at 5AM), and rise and shine to kenny loggins' footloose. why footloose? because i had narrowed it down to footloose and bills, bills, bills, and a coworker suggested without my input, that the song be either footloose or wannabe. so from 5AM to 1130PM that evening, no matter how awkward the situation, i had myself plugged into the rocking sounds of uncle kenny loggins (my own nickname).

and today: tay zonday's chocolate rain. perhaps the worlds most repetitive song (yes, even more so than juvenile's back that ass up).

today's random hints from the universe: i woke to a text message informing me that today, the first day of black history month, is also national dark chocolate appreciation day.

sounds like as good a case as any to subject myself to a projected 200 listenings of, chocolate rain, some stay dry and others feel the pain... chocolate rain, raise your neighborhood insurance rates... chocolate rain...

i would like to point out at this point that one play of this song yields 48 instances of the phrase "chocolate rain", which means that as i write this sentence i have heard those words 5,520 times...

5,521... flipping cars in france the other night... 5,522... cleans the sewers out beneath mumbai... 5,523...

now, as i feel my writing skills failing, and each intelligent word i intend, is being replaced by chocolate rain... angels cry and shake their heads in shame, i think it best to sum up here and close out.

the other weeks that are already in the bag this year included a muslim fast (sunup to sundown), only eating foods based on white ingredients while simultaneously only wearing black clothes, and facing my irrational fear of alien abduction (turns out i was just scared shitless as a child by movies that, as an adult seem corny, and harmless).

weeks to come include only eating blue foods (each color from the standard crayola 8 pack will get a dedicated week of foods, as well as clothing), and taking myself out on a date every day.

but as a tribute to the liquid nature of these weeks, february was to get my blue food week, until i realized that it's black history month, so i've swapped blue foods with black foods (hello beans, licorice, and guinness! unless you're fuzzy zoeller, then black foods means fried chicken and watermelon)

as you can see, as better ideas, or more apropos assignments come my way, i will work them in.

this may warrant it's own blog (though i can clearly barely keep up one), but it will be well linked with this blog, to ease the stress on followers, and those with input.

so calling all suggestions. for one week, use me as a guinea pig, use me for your amusement, use me as inspiration, use me as a human shield...