Re: My earlier statement regarding the Dallas Mavericks and regular season games

Very early into this season, I said that I wasn't that concerned about the Mavs winning a massive amount of regular season games because it is the post-season that I really care about. I guess I forgot to mention that I was assuming that the Mavs could handle winning at least 50% percent of their games. I never really conceived that the Mavs would be 12-8 at this point in the season. I never wrapped my head around the Mavs being third in their division behind San Antonio/New Orleans/Oklahoma City/Witchita Falls Hornets.

If you would have asked me on Wednesday night what component of the Mavs frustrated me most, I would have probably said "Dirk No-hit-ski" without hesitation. However, I have never thought it was fair to place all the blame on one player. And if Dirk can score 32 as he did last night and the Mavs still allow the Nuggets to sodomize them so violently on the court, this is not a Dirk issue. Where's any semblance of defense? What is going on? Is this really how you're gonna let this season turn out?

Here's my idea: Encourage Mark Cuban to buy the Chicago Cubs and subsequently sell the Mavs to Jerry Jones. Then teach Tony Romo, Terrell Owens, Jason Witten, Julius Jones, Marion Barber and Patrick Crayton to play basketball. Then rename the team the Dallas Basketball Cowboys. Everyone wins!

I hope they have stepladders over at Azteca America.

I work down the hall from the Azteca America television studios. In general they are decent neighbors. Except for one employee. I will call him Rico Suave. He wears a very tight doo rag, exceptionally baggy pants, constantly walks around holding a Swisha Sweet in one hand and is paid to troll the halls. See, I use the word "troll" because he is approximately 5 foot 5 inches tall. Which is fine except that he seems to think he is actually a menacing gangster type. In his mind, he cuts an intimidating figure. Which is simply not true. He makes me laugh when he does things like block the elevator door while talking loudly into his cell phone about how he is "livin' like Scarface" in the "214" etc.

But today he really made me laugh. As I was leaving the dark and drafty snack machine area, he requested that I (or as he refers to me: "little mama") "holla" at my "boy" before then becoming enraged at my ambivalence towards the notion of holla-ing. And by enraged, I mean that he informed me that "that's aight, you missing out and you know it". Here's the problem with that entire line of logic. I stand approximately 5 foot 7 in bare feet and flirt with 5 foot 9 in heels. I decided to turn around and walk towards him to ask him if I really was missing out. By the time I was close enough for him to realize that I could use his head as a convenient place to set my Diet Coke I had just purchased, he excused himself with a surprisingly meek:

"Nahhhh, I'm just playing. We cool"

We cool indeed.

I Don't Like Mondays

There's this.

But wait, there's more!

God, I hate when people take my picture when I am just trying to get out of my chauffeur driven black Denali pulling up to Teddy's in Hollywood on a Saturday night!

Number three huh?

THE FUCKING HORNETS?

As the spawn of two Georgia alumni and proud wearer of a 1982 Bulldogs Sugar Bowl tshirt, I think the BCS system is officially confusing and stupid and made for people who also enjoy the logic and science behind Magic 8 balls and scratch off lottery tickets.

Ok, you can either choose to be successful but curvy and deal with fuckery like this

Or you can drop that weight and be successful and happy! God, she has kept that weight off and looks great. Oh yeah and by the way, Anna Wintour considers her a fashion icon.

But fear not, there are some things in the world that aren't soul crushing:


A casserole of democracy, oil, socialism and totalitarianism I guess sort of works.

Scratch that, here is rock solid proof that democracy works!