Caterwauling

With somewhat of a ruckus erupting over the Steelers choosing to wear white uniforms at the Super Bowl, Coach Bill Cowher (Bil Cahr, to Iron City locals and expats) expressed his surprise at the grand attention to the team’s fashion choices:

Cowher became perplexed at the constant questioning about the issue at his weekly news conference, finally saying, “You want to know what shoes I’m wearing, too?”

OMG, did you watch “American Idol” tonight? Holy shit, dude in the orange shirt/belt/socks who thought he was Ginuwine meets Usher (who was more realistically like either of those stars meets ballectomy) needed to go.

He did a terrible rendition of Michael “speaking of ballectomy” Jackson’s “She’s Out of My Life.” I mean, Kadi started howling when he was on TV!

But the funniest part of the two-hour show? When he said that he learned to sing using Randy and Paula’s DVD, “Ultimate Voice Coach.” I never saw Simon laugh so hard — he’s usually pretty damned smug, but tonight, it was so totally justified.

It was great — the kid even brought the DVD to the audition. After he was rejected, he took the DVD outside and pulverized the case with a hammer. Sweet!

Seriously, what is UP with all these tone-deaf fools going to these auditions? I know I can’t sing — shit, I am happiest when I’m driving with my earbuds in and singing on top of my the music blasting in my ears, because I? Can’t hear how bad I sound! Believe me, I KNOW I would make for an audition tape that America would laugh at for years to come, so I stay the hell home when I hear auditions are coming to the East Coast. I’m just glad, though, that others come out full-force, so I can say “at least I’m better than that.”

Excuse me while I go into convulsions without my daily fix of Tiff, as our webhost has unceremoniously asked her to leave after some moron complained about how she (was ultimately forced to) protect her intellectual property. Tom gives the details here, so I won’t rehash it.

But what I will say is that I’m displeased at the handling of the situation and that I have had four enjoyable years with that company, but if that’s the way they’re going to react to someone who’s not been a loyal, paying customer, well, see ya. Holding data hostage (even temporarily)? I thought they were above that. Really.

Insofar as the hotlinking issue, the Internet is not a creative place, sadly. Everyone’s always ripping off each others’ ideas and thoughts and now intellectual property. So, when said owner has tap-danced and asked nicely (repeatedly) to little avail, she had to take drastic measures (I say “drastic” tongue-in-cheek). So the image the hotlinkers saw wasn’t puppies and rainbows. That was the POINT, to scare off the thieves.

What Tom points out about bandwidth costs is an issue I struggle with because I like to provide large files on occasion. I don’t ask you to right-click-save-as for my health; it’s just my subtle way of saying that I’m willing to pay the bandwidth costs to host the larger files, but not willing to pay extra so you can stream them as well.

The point of weblogs, to me, is so that we can get a sort of kalidescope glimpse into other people’s lives. Sure, we will never get to see 100% of their personalities, but it’s through image files and audio and video and good old-fashioned storytelling that the otherwise-unknowns among us have not only a creative outlet, but also a way of putting our mark on the world — of not getting lost among the crowd — of being as special as our moms always told us we were.

If someone tries to rob you in “real life” and you fight back, it’s self-defense. Likewise, if you go to lengths to protect your webspace and the contents of it, bravo. And if your hosting company is going to cave all pussy-like to some dumb bitch who was trying to STEAL an image in the first place, well, let me just say this. For all the business Tiff has given them and referred to them, well, we’re all happy to skip out the door behind her.

UPDATE

I turned off the comments but I brought them back. This entry is likely long forgotten, and that’s wonderful, but I think the discussion is worth reading/continuing.

As seen at Irk’s:

Your Stripper Song Is

Closer by Nine Inch Nails “You let me violate you, you let me desecrate you You let me penetrate you, you let me complicate you Help me I broke apart my insides, help me I’ve got no Soul to tell” When you dance, it’s a little scary - and a lot sexy.

What Song Should You Strip To?

Not for lack of anything to write about, but rather for lack of being *able* to do a thoughtdump of the caliber I so crave right now, here are some things that have caught my eye ’round the Net:

Presidential Speechologist (*bwahahaha*)

Young earners face intense financial challenge. This is to promote a new book, “Strapped: Why America’s 20- and 30-Somethings Can’t Get Ahead.” Can I hear an amen from my fellow “bouncers”?

Somewhat related, Execs and managers more satisfied than workers.

The nutfuck anti-abortionists are in town. You know, the same ones who want to protect the lives of the unborn but who have no problem murdering anyone who happens to have *performed* an abortion in his or her career. I say keep abortion legal — and keep this crowd from procreating. PLEASE. These are the same people who protest gay unions — say it with me, THAT group would never need that surgical procedure, would it now?

On a lighter note, did you see Drew Barrymore’s “SNL” skit? After showing off her golden globes well, AT the Golden Globes (let’s just say that her ‘actresses’ needed ’support’ — and lots of it), this was a well-timed and well-orchestrated nod to her need for a boulder-holder.

“Queer Eye” will make over your office. I started to contact them till I realized I’m a twee bit outside the 25-mile radius of Manhattan. *drat* My team would be funny as hell on TV.

For fellow “American Idol” junkies — the show will go into syndication this fall, with episodes to be remixed with highlights. Sweet!

From T-shirt Hell, a new shirt that’s sure to offend … FEMA.

Reader Poll Monday:

1. When did it become OK to spend $5 on a stupid cup of coffee?
Not until SBUX released the cinnamon dolce lattes. Because I held out for a long fucking time on frou-frou drinks until earlier this month, when I was downing those bad boys like they were an IV drip in Aspen. Because it’s cold there and regular coffee costs you the same damn price, so I decided to live a little. But I haven’t been able to justify scraping that much cash together for one fucking drink since then.

2. And $2 on a bottle of water?
That’s discount water — I just paid $3 for a fucking 16-ounce bottle and I was ready to throw it at the cashier when she told me how much it cost.

3. What color are your eyes?
Green.

Well, mostly.

One’s green and one’s hazel. They’re both rimmed in blue. So, in effect, my eyes are every color, depending on whatever I’m emoting that day (pale and moss-like on a day like today; emerald when I’m fired up or mischevious; blue-green when I’m mildly amused and brown when I’m in a funk). My grandmother used to love it when my eyes turned brown — she could tell me that I was full of shit and get away with it.

4. What is the last thing you purchased?
I almost bought CK’s new Euphoria fragrance, but instead I was good and only bought a pair of jeans on clearance at Old Navy for $7.50 and a work blazer at Hecht’s that I’ve been wanting all season — it was marked down to $12.50 and there was ONE left — IN MY SIZE — when I stopped off at the mall on Friday night when traffic was backed up and I wanted a place to hide for awhile. Yay traffic!

5. Do you think celery and carrots belong in chicken noodle soup?
Hell no. Noodles and broth. Extra noodles, damn it. And mozzarella cheese — I *~*heart*~* cheese in soup.

6. You’ve got a 30 minute ride on the subway, would you rather sit beside someone who is clipping their fingernails or someone who is cracking their gum?
*shudder* I’ll take the gum-cracker, because I’d pull out a piece of citrus-mint Orbit and give them a run for their money in the annoyance department. If a fingernail clipping happened to land on me, I’d strongly suggest reading the headlines the next day for “Woman murders moron on subway, fingernail clipper found lodged in victim’s trachea.”

7. Do you have a dream list of gadgetry? If so, what’s on it?
First and foremost, a MacBook Pro. A laptop in general, really. It’ll probably end up being an iBook ’cause that’s the cheapest of the Mac laptop line.

In my dreams, however, I’d be surrounded by computers of every type (on the Mac platform, thanks), jammed full of all the best design software there is. I have Quark, but my copy is damaged and I don’t have the startup disk. I have Office but Excel is missing some component and it doesn’t work. I have InDesign but again, something’s screwy and it’s a pirated copy unfixable at present. If I didn’t have Photoshop, I’d probably kill myself.

Other gadgets (not software-related)? Anything you can think of. I’d love a flat-screen monitor. I’d also love a TV that doesn’t have to WARM UP before I watch it. (It’s Old, capital O.) Shit, a plasma TV would be divine — I love love love my black entertainment center, but that bitch is heavy and I need to move soon so I’d gladly give it up.

Seriously, I’d be an early-adopter of technology if only the cash flow hadn’t flown out of my account before it even got there.

8. When is the last time you cleaned your bathroom mirror?
(*hides face*). I scrubbed the tub last night, but the mirror’s been lacking attention for a month — when one of my four vanity bulbs burned out. When I replace the bulb, I’ll clean the mirror.

9. What is the last thing you do before you walk out the door in the mornings?
I pack a bag with work clothes (I drive 35 miles each way — I wear jeans and sneakers so my hoo-ha doesn’t freeze and I abhor driving in heels) and makeup, grab my portable coffee cup and say goodbye to the kittehs.

10. Ask me something.
What’s the most memorable dining experience you’ve had recently, outstanding in a good way or otherwise?

The Pittsburgh Steelers are headed for Detroit after their glorious win over the Broncos this afternoon for the AFC championship. Yay!

I am not normally a sports fan. I’d rather leave the boys at home in front of the TV and go shopping — at least salespeople will pay attention to you on game day. One hopes, anyway.

But it’s different with the Steelers. I don’t (just) love them because that’s my hometown or because they’ve been playing their little hearts out, but I honor and worship them because it’s been so ingrained in me that there’s just no getting around it.

When I lived there, I did charity work for a living. What that meant was planning and executing fundraisers and applying for grants and forming partnerships with community organizations.

I don’t know if it was a clause in the players’ contracts, but it was a given that each player was associated with at least one charity and that we could always count on the organization to lend its name or donate a few autographed items for silent auction bidding. That stuff always garnered the most money, and we loved them for it.

I worked with several affluent and very philanthropic volunteers who were close personal friends with a number of the Steeler icons (players and otherwise) — Terry Bradshaw, Lynn Swann, Franco Harris, Joe Green, Dan Rooney, Bill Cowher — the list went on and on, right on down to then-current (circa late-1990s) players. (I do have a not-so-positive story, however, but I won’t speak ill of the dead OR their trashy stripper wives. *cough*)

In any event, I met lots of these guys and their wives, else I talked with them on the phone or simply sent them thank-you notes for their cash or in-kind donations that helped me to be more successful at my job. We’re talking about some of the nicest, most generous people who have ever walked this earth, I tell you. People who, year after year, said, “What do you need?” and were happy to give it, all in the name of supporting their local non-profit scene, particularly those of us whose organizations were providing services “for the kids.”

Bottom line: Pittsburgh sports icons walk on water, and justifiably so. That’s why those of us who blew out of there like tumbleweeds will still put on our Steelers gear and root for our boys to go all the way to the Super Bowl. Because it’s not just a good team, it’s also a team with heart and spirit going back for many generations. And that says nothing of the talent — seriously, their shit is t-o-g-e-t-h-e-r!!!

I do have a funny (well, now it is) memory from living there when the Steelers would lose a game. I mean, men got DEPRESSED. You just KNEW that if the Steelers lost a game, your ass was NOT getting laid that evening. Even during the days following a losing game, there was a quietude, a stillness, an aura of grief in the air. Pittsburgh, to me, wasn’t a “we won/they lost” type of city — the victories and the defeats were shared equally among the team and the fans.

Hence, I would love to see this team — this city — win the Super Bowl. As any Pittsburgher knows, they’ve won four and have needed that “one for the thumb” for upward of a quarter-century. I remember the last win, believe it or not. And while I wouldn’t fix my hair in pigtails tied with black-and-gold ribbons this time around, I’d be just as ecstatic nonetheless.

So now, we just await the outcome of the Carolina-Seattle game, and as if I needed another reason for Pittsburgh to win, I just want Jerome Bettis to not only return home a winner, but to walk out of there one as well.

Go Stillers!

I never get to sleep late, but today, I did — and good thing, because that’s apparently when the *sex dreams* have time to come out and play.

All I have to say is, I was so turned on in my dream that I woke myself up and, well, heh. The feeling must have extended into reality, ’cause if I’m not mistaken, I very well could have put someone’s eye out.

Wow. I’m never going to look at THAT person quite the same way again. …

Now we return to our regularly scheduled navelgazing.