Golden Globes - The Next Generation

One of the traditions of the Golden Globe show - tonight at 9 on NBC - is to have Miss Golden Globe, a daughter of a past Globe winner who comes out with the presenters to herd celebrities and gather up open envelopes.

Occasionally a Mister Golden Globe is chosen as well. How/Why/When - I don't know and I really don't think it matters.

I love contrasts and that's why this year's Miss and Mister caught my attention.

Our Miss Golden Globe is Francesca Eastwood

Mr. Golden Globe is Sam Fox 

I really hope Francesca doesn't get confused as her Dad does; I'd hate to see her talking to empty seats. It is  the Globes after all and everyone is drinking and moving about.

On the reality show her Mother threw together Francesca got a little over stimulated and set fire to a $10,000 Birkin bag. She told the press she did it because she likes Hermes better. Wow - those solid values Clint spews on about ... 

Unlike Francesca, Sam is not in reality/Daddy's productions show business. Sam has a business development firm and also helps run his Dad's Parkinson's Research foundation.

Micheal J. Fox said he didn't really know why his son was chosen and simply hoped that Sam enjoyed the experience.

I believe Clint will be giving a prepared statement to an empty auditorium somewhere in Malibu.

Can You Read Me Now?

My long connectivity nightmare is over.

After days of turn on/turn off, check connection, check plug, my back is on fire.
Why are plugs and outlets and connections always behind heavy furniture that only dust bunnies can reach?

After days of “for quality purposes your call may be recorded” and “the estimated wait time for speaking with a technician is 20 minutes to never”, I figured out the problem on my own.

Not before I spoke to Peter and Gary and Roger and Sean. Together we pinged and dinged and donged their schlongs. They were impatient and humorless. Peter was especially abrupt and I asked if I could please speak to Sanjay back in India; he was smart and funny and polite. Peter was not amused.

I assume he has a degree from MIT and this is all he can find in this economy. Tough shit Peter; learn to be grateful

At some point last weekend my McAfee anti-virus software sent out an automatic update that merged and mushed and mingled with signals from Curiosity on Mars to create a perfect storm of un-connectedness.
I discovered this by having this odd feeling that my firewall might be an issue; it has been in the past. So I started hunting around the internet tubes to look for firewall flaming facts. Using the Atari style desktop made the journey so convenient.

Eventually I put together a scenario that could explain my problems. I found a virtual technician (better than a blow-up sex doll) and together VT and I solved my problems.

And it only took a week!

Now of course the phone pole outside is still leaning and my land line still has unbearable static but that could be because Homeland Security broke the pole when they were installing the wiretaps. So each time I hear the static as I try to find a dial tone I say hi to Chris Christie (my big fat douchebag of a governor) or to the horror of a human who runs around my town putting up Obama as Hitler posters.

Bless their hearts.

I am so glad (and grateful Peter!) to be back. I’ll catch up.

I leave you with this …

Jon Stewart says this photo finally explains to him the Obama that the Republicans see.

Thanks Clint, You Made My Day