racingmeridian.com

…headline in The Onion this week, “Boulder, Colorado, Named Best Place in America to Raise Abducted Children”…

…Joan Rivers on Lindsey Lohan and her infamous Fuck U fingernail (incidentally, brilliantly recreated for me by Goose), “She thought being sworn in meant cursing at the judge”…

….I was leaving Mass this morning when I thought, y’know, I should go shake the Fathers hand, something I never do, but it was a wicked sermon, so…as I approached the Priest, as he stood at the back of the vestibule, I noticed parishioners, including young children, were kissing his hand, not shaking it…shit…he noticed as I did a sudden left hand swerve…isn’t that a tradition the church should abolish like right fucking now???…

… I’m currently entertaining the 419 viruses my computer acquired as I trolled through the net in order to get a feed of last nights David Tua - Monte Barrett fight. No regrets. It was one of the saddest nights in ages as Tua, fat and 37, huffed and puffed but blew nothing down. Gifted with an undeserved draw, the Tua Man tasted the canvas for the first time in his life when countered viciously in the final stanza. It was eerily similar to the March 17^th, 1977 fight between George Foreman and Jimmy Young, when Big George collapsed late and announced his retirement after the fight. Don’t expect any similar second acts from Tua. Damn, I’m upset. With Tua diminished there is no one, no one, worth watching in the division. Sure, we can be open minded about Tomasz Adamek and David Hayes, but the division has reached appalling levels of impoverishment…

…I’ll still thank David Tua for a whole whack of chills and thrills. The dramatics in the first fight with Hasim Rachman, the stunning evisceration of Chris Byrd, the war with Ike Ibeabuchi, the annihilation of Michael Moorer…there has been disappointment and waste, but I salute Tua and wish him the best after what, hopefully, was his final entry in his square ring diaries…

…this is long overdue but I must issue major props to Ginner for his resolute conviction, from the beginning, that Spain would annex the 2010 World Cup. It was a massive call and evidence that even red heads have occasional moments of clairvoyance and relevance…

…yes, I read WWTDD every day b/c of the nefarious influence of Ginner. The writing is relentlessly astonishing with his recent reference to the condition of Kate Gosselin’s, ahem, privates, scandalously funny…but his piece on Leanne Rimes and her appearance in a bikini had me gasping for air…the man is simply unconcious…

…I’ll make a rare exception and attend a movie on an opening weekend when it features the lovely Angelina. Pen “Salt” in for this upcoming weekend…

…its a Sunday with the races on the TV and music playing so loud that I must wipe occasional flecks of blood from my earlobes…and I have one pronouncement; sorry all you elitist snobs and pretentious pricks, Lady GaGa is not going away anytime soon. The mother lode of unreleased material available on the net speaks to a depth of talent at her chosen field, “pop”, as in popular music, that is unprecedented. Check out Filthy Pop, as saccharine sweet and as perfect as any pop song ever created, to get a sense of what I’m talking about. I’m already counting the days to the March 3^rd show when I will, happily, be introducing a couple of the sexy Madonna old guard to the magic of Lady GaGa…

…here’s the skinny on the abject disaster that is Lillith Fair 2010. Sara McLachlan has been an unabashed mediocrity since the release of 1997’s brilliant Surfacing. Her follow-ups, Afterglow and Laws of Illusion, are complete disasters, abetted only by a compliant Canadian media which fails to point out the utter collapse of this once formidable talent.  Like Margaret Atwood before her, McLachlan is getting some undeserved love for works of unvarnished dullness. Yeah, it’s great to be Canadian, but our art preferences are dictated by political correctness and Government fiat…

…a very smart friend of mine once approached his English Professor at the University of Toronto and gave voice to the great unspoken; that Margaret Atwood is a laughably bad writer. The Prof whipped the door close and nervously huddled with my friend. “Of course she’s shit,” he said, “but never say it out loud!”…unfortunately, that’s a true story…