Rambling Rhodes

Tara Reid Breast Update

Heh, over 800 visitors to this site today already, and it's not even noon yet. Tara Reid's breasts are apparently still a hot commodity on the Internet today.

Winner, Winner, Chicken Dinner

Last night, I attended the Minnesota Magazine & Publications Association's 2004 Publishing Excellence Awards event. I'm pleased to report that my monthly magazine column, ENDPGM, won the gold award. They like me, they really, REALLY like me!

To those who entered, but did not win gold, I can only say, NEENER, NEENER, NEENER!

UPDATE: What's better than winning? Alison Angel. Alison Angel. Alison Angel. Alison Angel. Alison Angel. Alison Angel. Alison Angel. . Alison Angel.

Once Moore

Back when I was in college, my professor for one of my first news writing classes had us watch "Roger & Me," a documentary produced by a gentleman named Michael Moore, who I had never heard of until that day.

We watched "Roger & Me," and then we were asked to discuss some of the interviewing and research techniques utilized in the film. Initially, many in the class said that Moore had an agressive interviewing style that they admired. Eventually, however, a voice piped up from the back of the room. . .

"That was the biggest biased piece of crap I think I've ever seen. Why the hell did we just watch that? It went against everything we've learned so far in our textbook, which I paid a lot of good money for."

The comments came from a student who was usually pretty quiet, so it came as a bit of a shock to hear him speak so passionately about anything. But, he got the rest of the class to rethink their previous thinks.

"Now that I think about it, that whole scene with the woman skinning the rabbit didn't make much sense at all," opined another student.

Gradually, most of us came to the conclusion that this Michael Moore fellow probably had his own personal bias and agenda, and that he constructed the movie to fit around that bias and agenda. In other words, we decided that "Roger & Me" was kind of a misleading hatchet job masquerading as serious journalism. We also agreed that, if serious journalists utilized Moore's methods, they'd be doing their audience a disservice. It was a good lesson, really.

And, you know, that opinion of Michael Moore has pretty much stuck with me, although the man, himself, has become increasingly tough to take as he gets older, grayer and fatter.

I watched most of "Bowling For Columbine" when I caught it on cable this summer, and I thought it was largely overly-simplistic drivel, even though it was wrapped in a nicer overall visual package than "Roger & Me."

As for "Fahrenheit 911," well, I've only seen snippets of it here and there, but I've read enough about it to come to the conclusion that it's just a bunch of misleading, and sometimes entirely bullcrap, conclusions drawn from a pool of largely inconsequential "facts." In other words, it's the kind of fake "documentary" I've grown to expect from Moore.

Don't get me wrong. Moore has all the right in the world to craft all the propaganda he wants, and people have all the right in the world to pay good money to see it, should they so decide. They can even join in with Moore in denouncing 51 percent of the American voting population as living in "Jesusland," if that's truly what they want to do.

But, generally speaking, I'm pretty damned tired of Michael Moore. He could go the way of Arafat tomorrow, and I'd probably crack a beer in a small celebration.

Because, if Moore were to die tomorrow, it would save the world from this.

Does anyone really want a sequel to "F/911?" Let me rephrase that: does anyone really want a sequel to "F/911" when the creator, Michael Moore, says something like this:

“Fifty-one percent of the American people lacked information (in this election) and we want to educate and enlighten them,” Moore was quoted in Thursday’s edition of Variety. “They weren’t told the truth. We’re communicators and it’s up to us to start doing it now.”

Got that? That lowly 51 percent majority of Jesusland Americans lacked information and Michael Moore, that lovable old Santa Claus, believes it's his duty to educate and enlighten them in his own special, biased, largely misleading and untruthful little way. I'm sure that message will just sell like hotcakes to everyone who voted for Bush. I'm sure they'll fall all over themselves when Michael Moore shows them the error of their ways.

He's Michael Moore, a COMMUNICATOR, and he's going to show America the truth, or at least his own personal version of the truth. Gosh, I can't wait!

Like Caroline, my co-worker said: "He should just stop."

He should. He really, really should.

Just Out Of Curiousity. . .

Yep, I just left Curiosity. Nice town.

Bush Picks Nose; Dems Vow To Fight Appointment

Conservative Bias Seen In Gelatinous Nasal Discharge

WASHINGTON D.C. (Rhodes Media Services) -- President Bush today hand-picked a new mass of semi-hardened mucus matter, commonly referred to as "a booger," from his nose but, no sooner had the golden nugget been exposed to the outside air, then Democrats vowed to fight the president's latest pick for "whatever post it may be up for."

"Obviously, anyone or anything picked by this administration will be rife with conservative ideals," said Sen. Chuck Schumer (D-NY). "Given the Democrats' tenuous position in Congress following the election, we have to make sure that anything Bush picks will be met with staunch resistence: that includes people, and that includes boogers."

President Bush was apparently taken completely by surprise by the onslaught against his latest pick, which he had intended only to "wipe on his pant leg," or possibly, in his words, "roll it around back and forth between my thumb and forefinger during an important call with some head of state or something."

For its part, the booger seemed unaffected by the harsh spotlight being shined upon it. Instead, it sat silently on the President's desk in the Oval Office, where it was eventually removed by the White House janitorial staff.

Feel The Outrage

Just when you think the word "understatement" can't be dragged through the mud any more than it already has been, CNN.com goes and reports:

Makes you wonder what the hell they consider "acceptable."

I, personally, find a nearly naked Alizee, to be very acceptable.

Or a topless Amanda Beard.

Catshit Morning

There's a Chinese proverb that states: Day that starts with catshit on floor, won't be good day.

So, there I was, sleepily brushing my teeth, when what do I spy dribbled over the edge of the litter box, but a big old pile of cat shit. Apparently, one of the kitties has less-than-stellar aim. Okay, fine, whatever. I grab a heap of toilet paper and go to deal with the problem.

The problem with the problem, however, was that it was one of those squishy, non-hard, nearly-soupy concoctions that just squirted out both sides of my toilet paper clench.

It was at that point that I learned something very surprising about myself. . .

I've been hunting, and I've skinned and gutted squirrels and rabbits and the like. I've laughed at the sight of dead deer on the side of the road. I've stepped in cow pies as big as a bear's head. I've cleaned dog crap off my shoe using nothing more than a paper clip.

But, this morning, when catshit went spurting out of my toilet paper grasp, I let out a forceful dry heave, followed by two more dry heaves in quick succession. Maybe it was just that I wasn't ready for such a chore so early in the morning. Maybe I'm just unaccustomed to dealing with such fluid cat waste. Whatever the reason, I was completely grossed out by the task at hand. If a young boy had been passing by on the street at that moment, I very likely would have offered him $5 to finish cleaning up that catshit.

I'm buying a taller litter box, that's all I know. Something that can ensure a cat's butt won't launch a hot pile onto the floor. Because, man, I just can't endure such a disgusting trauma that early in the morning ever again. It's unhealthy.

Yasser, You Betcha

EXPECTANT MEDIA: Bring out yer dead!

[a man puts a body on the cart]

WORLD: Here's one.

EXPECTANT MEDIA: That'll be 50 cents a copy.

PALESTINIAN SPOKESMAN: He's not dead.

EXPECTANT MEDIA: What?

WORLD: Nothing. There's your 50 cents.

PALESTINIAN SPOKESMAN: He's not dead.

EXPECTANT MEDIA: 'Ere, he says he's not dead.

WORLD: Yes he is.

PALESTINIAN SPOKESMAN: He's not.

EXPECTANT MEDIA: He isn't.

WORLD: Well, he will be soon, he's very ill.

PALESTINIAN SPOKESMAN: He's getting better.

WORLD: No he's not, he'll be stone dead in a moment.

EXPECTANT MEDIA: Well, we can't report him dead like that. It's against regulations.

PALESTINIAN SPOKESMAN: He doesn't want to go on the cart.

WORLD: Oh, don't be such a baby.

EXPECTANT MEDIA: We can't report him as dead.

PALESTINIAN SPOKESMAN: He feels fine.

WORLD: Oh, do us a favor.

EXPECTANT MEDIA: We can't.

WORLD: Well, can you hang around for a couple of minutes? He won't be long.

EXPECTANT MEDIA: We promised to be at the bin Laden's. They're about due, you know.

WORLD: Well, when's your next round?

EXPECTANT MEDIA: Thursday.

PALESTINIAN SPOKESMAN: Mr. Arafat wants to go for a walk.

WORLD: You're not fooling anyone, you know. Isn't there anything you could do?

PALESTINIAN SPOKESMAN: He feels happy. He feels happy.

[the EXPECTANT MEDIA glances up and down the street furtively, then silences the PALESTINIAN SPOKESMAN with his a whack of his club]

WORLD: Ah, thank you very much.

EXPECTANT MEDIA: Not at all. See you on Thursday.

WORLD: Right.

I'd Be Pissed Off, Too

What The Hell?

Okay, for some strange reason, I had nearly 600 visitors to this blog on Sunday. That's unheard of, particularcly on a weekend. But, the weirdest part is that, apparently, 80 percent of those visits came about due to people doing Google searches on variations of the Perfect Strangers sitcom and/or theme song.

Is there something going on in the Perfect Stangers world of which I should be made aware? Is there a Perfect Strangers reunion? What's going on? Does Larry's super-hot girlfriend get naked or something? Does anybody know?

Shameless Minnesota Plugs

Friday night, Melissa and I went for drinks and dinner at Ol' Mexico. One of the great things about Ol' Mexico is that they have NTN trivia. If you ever find yourself at Ol' Mexico in Roseville, Minn., and there's a visiting player with the handle "MULE," chances are good that's me. Melissa is, well, MEL. Just so you know. I won two games out of five, because I'm that brilliant.

Saturday evening, my girlfirend's dad, who happens to be gay, treated Melissa and me to a free dinner at the Gay 90s. We all opted for the prime rib dinner special. So, I can now proudly state that I sucked down a big, tasty piece of meat at the Gay 90s.

Driving back into Rochester Sunday afternoon, I saw a house up for sale by Debbie Quimby. Debbie, you may remember, was the realtor who sold me my house back in April. She's also a super-awesome realtor who doesn't pressure you. I found her pretty much by accident, but she was great. So, if you're in the Rochester area, looking to buy a home, make sure you contact Debbie Quimby, and tell her Ryan Rhodes suggested her. Plus, she's, like, a total babe, so there's that.