I’m oh so busy, y’all, but I did have time to wander aimlessly around Books a Million tonight.  At checkout, Nicole Kidman caught my eye, and not in a good way.  Doesn’t she have people anymore?  And what, exactly, is wrong with this picture?  I can’t put my finger on it because my finger isn’t that big, but where to start?

Thanks for stopping by.  I hope to see you more often on the other side of Thanksgiving and finals.

XOXO-V

If South Carolina weren’t a place of such breathtaking beauty (and it is, trust me), with an amazingly temperate climate, a low cost of living, one of the most storied college football coaches ever, and fresh seafood to die for, I would have to tell it to go fuck itself for emerging from Tuesday’s election with no women in the state Senate.  None.  Zero.

Damnit.

Yes, please: Barry calls for a college football national championship playoff to replace the universally-loathed BCS nonsense.

I’ve mentioned before that I am one-half of a politically divided marriage.  Although my other half and I aren’t really that far apart on the issues (we’re both essentially Libertarian, but he takes the fiscal route to the GOP while I take the social issues yellow brick road and side with the Dems), we definitely want our respective candidates to win tomorrow night.  Whatever happens, one of us is going to be deeply unhappy, and while I am looking forward to the excitement of election night, I am dreading that final moment when one of us is holding back the victory dance and the other is bracing for the next four years.  Election night 2000 was the unhappiest of moments, and I do not desire a repeat.

See y’all on the other side.

I haven’t taken “because I said so” as justification for anything that comes out of Colin Powell’s mouth since his bullshit appearance before the U.N. Security Council pre-Stupidest War Ever, so I guess I shouldn’t be surprised to find he was a character witness for Ted Stevens during Stevens’ recent federal trial on financial disclosure law violations.  Still, it doesn’t look good, especially since Stevens was convicted yesterday on all counts and is already being widely decried as a corrupt old fucker, even by those within his own party.  I didn’t believe Powell in 2003, I don’t believe him when he says Ted Stevens is a “trusted individual” with a “sterling reputation,” and I’m still waiting to hear why he’s a man whose word is irrefutable truth.  Sure, I was happy when he endorsed O, but as someone who knew a lie when I saw it during his testimony outlining “our” case for war in Iraq, I’m unsure why this man’s word means anything more than anyone else’s.

Bring me someone who wasn’t W’s mouthpiece during the WMD nonsense, and I’ll be all ears for his presidential candidate endorsement.  Until then, I’ll just be hanging out, drinking Maker’s, listening to Miley Cyrus, and generally being a transformational beach bum.

Months and months and DAMN months ago, I told Kadinsky aka World’s Hottest Woman that she should ask ButtercupPunch readers to confess the most embarrassing song on their iPods.  Have I heard back from that hawtbitch?  No.  (I have, however, nibbled on her shoulder, so there’s that).  Anyway, confession is wicked good for the soul, so I’ma go it alone and let y’all know what I’m holding.

I, uh, have a Miley Cyrus song on my iPod, and I cannot completely blame it on the fact that I share my iPod with my eight year-old sons.  No, I shelled out $0.99 for the chance to hear “See You Again” on demand.  I could make a thousand excuses for myself, like the fact that it’s a catchy tune, I got hooked on Miley when my boys FORCED me to take them to see her concert movie (all them, I swear), I’m surrounded by Radio Disney every day anyway, etc.  But in the end, it’s just you and your iPod, people, and at the top of your “why I have X song in my iPod list” is the fact that you like that song.  You know you do.  Just admit it.

I have purchased plenty of cheesy and wrongful songs from iTunes.  I have a lot of John Denver, a couple of Britney Spears, and I’m currently stuck on the Manhattans’ “Kiss and Say Goodbye.”  I feel that all of these songs are defensible, though.  I can’t say the same for my Hannah Montana purchase, and that’s why I decided to let it all out here.

Whew!  I feel better.  Now, please make me feel even better by telling me what’s lurking in your iPod.  Neil Diamond?  Debbie Gibson?  New Edition?  Milli Vanilli?  Do tell, bitches.

Usually our Sunday “Parade” magazine heads straight to that great green trash can in the sky, but today, bitches, my lover graces the front page (kind of a weird picture, but whatever).  The real prize is inside, though, because the interview reaffirmed my love for  Mr. Craig.  Who would make the better Bond, the interviewer asks - Obama or McCain?  Obama, he says, although McCain would make a great M because he has “a kind of Judi Dench quality.”  LOVE!  Check it out – you will not be disappointed.

Including the pickup lines.

Picture it: Murrells Inlet Kroger, 2008.  Me, trying to buy groceries.  Cute young checkout girl, trying to do her job.  Old, yellow biker dude skeezer, in line behind me buying beer and chicken.

Skeezer to checkout girl: So, how’re you?

Checkout girl: Fine.

Skeezer: I can see that.

Me: Die in a fire.

Sometimes you wish you handn’t left your shank at home, knowhuddimean?