Falcon: Half Boy, Half Flying Saucer, Half Eagle

Falcon Heene has touched us all over the past day. (double entendre WIN)

At first, it was a nice, friendly, gentle touch. We were genuinely worried for him and felt for his family. But as CNN and every other media outlet in the free world clambered to cover this AMAZING story, the touch turned to a menacing grasp.

Wolf Blitzer had a knife of morality to my throat all afternoon. I knew that if I looked away for even a second, they would have found Falcon impaled on a branch of an oak tree. No, something more melodramatic. A weeping willow.Do you hear me? A motherfucking weeping willow!

I could NOT look away.

I could not fail him.

So I sat glued to the TV, watching expert after expert invent news before my eyes. "Well, his body must be in this region, because of the acceleration of the balloon and the trajectory of who the fuck knows what I'm talking about, because its certainly not me" and so and so forth.

Then I log onto twitter. BALLOON BOY! BALLOON BOY! Every single last tweet was about the balloon boy. It's like everyone wanted to be the first to tell someone. Maybe someone had been sleeping! You have to inform them that there's a boy in a balloon that looks like a god damned spaceship! THIS IS NEWS, PEOPLE!

On the radio that I'm forced to listen to at work there was nothing but balloon boy talk. The inane morning talk show hosts on 102.1 The Edge exploited this story for THREE hours. Their conversation was so dim witted that I feel like I would have been better off sniffing glue for the entire morning show. They played the "we did this for the show" clip twenty vagillion times.

I was counting.

And then one of them noticed that in the recording, there was a sound after Falcon speaks, that sounded like a fart. So, naturally, that led to an hours worth of ass/fart/shit/wet fart jokes. Don't get me wrong here. I like a good poop joke as much as the next guy. But by the time we entered hour two of the "Falcon's daddy shit his pants" marathon, I was ready to call this whole Balloon Boy thing quits.

Its not even 24 hours later and I'm sick and tired of this stupid balloon boy. You all know it was a publicity stunt for wife swap. He outed his parents and then proceeded to puke all over day time television. Which hasn't happened as often since Rosie O'Donnell got off the air. Hey, what's her hair up to these days?


Awesome Rosie, just awesome.


This is the last thing you should read about Balloon Boy. Its over, ok? I release you from any moral knife you feel you have against your throat.

By the way, tiny serious note. Mass media and social media are pretty much killing the enjoyment we get from watching stories develop. Everything gets 15 seconds now. We get sick of stuff before its even done happening. I'm torn on how to feel about this. On one hand, its sad that we can't savor and enjoy anything anymore. We have to flood ourselves with it in every capacity and medium in order to know everything about it at quickly as possible. And then the magic is gone. We've discovered everything there is and we move on to the next hot topic. Ravaging through the happenings.

But on the other hand, the faster the turnaround, the quicker its my turn, right?

Ca-CHING!

For this installment of Judging Everything, I collaborated with a fellow Twitter Wit, or Twit, which is what I am more commonly referred to as. While interviewing each other, we discussed many important social issues, as well as our love for all things goat. Enjoy.


Lurkey- Ads_infinitum. When I met you on twitter, I assumed you were a marketing bot because of your name. Please indulge us with the origin?



Ads- Ha! You know, I've actually gotten blocked from a couple accounts I tried to follow, and assumed that had to be the reason. Pity. You probably know the Latin expression "ad infinitum", meaning "to the point of infinity". My name's Adeline, and my friends call me Ads, so mixing the two seemed like a sufficiently smart-arsey internet name.

And you? How does one get to Lurkey from Sofia R?



Lurkey- Oh, it all started a long, long time ago. Back in the days before twitter, when we had no other options for social networking other than facebook and myspace. By the way, I fucking hate myspace. It literally makes NO SENSE to me. My band has an account (shameless self promotion *cough*) but I stay away from it. Where was I going with this? Right. Facebook. I work with many, many women. We work long hours and have too much time off, thus fanning the flames of our facebook creeping obsession. Being the genius that I am, I managed to figure out every single way to creep someone - ANYONE - on facebook. I'm talking adding friends of friends through friends lists in order to see specific albums. Yeah, that creepy. Any time a coworker had a person they needed to stalk, they'd hit me up right away and the stalking would be taken care of immediately. When I started my twitter account, a coworker mentioned that this would be a great new way to "lurk" people. And thus, the name "Lurkey" was born. Well, conceived anyway.

So, what do you think of goats?



Ads- Before I get distracted by the goat thing, what is the name of said band, and what do you do?

I love goats. Not, y'know, like this, but I think they're awesome. Total sidebar here - you know there's a guy in Kenya that's offered 40 goats and 20 cows as a dowry for Chelsea Clinton's hand in marriage? I'm not even kidding (LOOK I MADE A GOAT JOKE). Frankly, if I were the Clintons, I'd take it. Anyway. There's a wine farm about half an hour out of town that also keeps goats for cheesemaking. It has a goat tower - a little stone turret thing with a pathway spiralling round the outside, and a place for the goats to sleep inside. It's adorable. Also, goat's milk cheese? Yes please. Do you like cheese?

I've just spent half an hour on Wikipedia reading about goats. Where were we?




Lurkey- I applaud you on your new found goat knowledge. It makes me just tickled. Except the part about goat towers. that was obviously made up. And that's the number one rule around here, you can't make things up. Do you understanderate me? Anyway, back to shamelessly promoting myself. I'm a drummer in a kind of rock band. I say kind of because we don't really have a specific genre, we just play whatever the hell we want. And I'm using the word "drummer" very liberally here. I should say that I own a drum kit and for the past 6 months, I've been teaching myself to play. Luckily, I have some kind of rhythm and my muscle memory is alright.
Do you think the Clintons would let me have her for 50 goats and a few hundred wheels of goat cheese? Because I already got started milking them.
Speaking of music, what kind of music do you enjoy? *please say polka, please say polka*




Ads- It's not something I usually admit to, but I definitely have a soft spot for polka. As far as my personal tastes go, I generally tend to stay away from the trashier commercial stuff, but I can appreciate pretty much anything. I've always wanted to play drums but I have next to no coordination. Seriously. My musical skills are limited to the triangle. The one time, a friend tried to teach me basic guitar chords and I almost summoned Cthulhu. True story. Just like the goat towers, I should add! See? There's no way I would just inventorate things. This is The Internet; and nobody lies on The Internet, right? Plus, you're apparently an axe murderer, and I wouldn't want you to hurt my axe.
Explain to me why you would actually want Chelsea Clinton, and what you would do with her?




Lurkey- Rest assured, your axe is safe. Your goats, on the other hand, may be in danger as I've hired Scots to do the milking. I'd like to own Chelsea Clinton because of what I like to call the "at least" effect. When you're going out for a night on the town and need to feel your most beautiful, the easiest way to ensure success is to allow someone who is from a lower class of looks to tag along and stand next to you all night. Even if you don't look your very best, any onlookers will instantly remark, "Well, at least she's not as busted as THAT girl". By the way, I'm not implying that you should in any way socialize with this person whom you've allowed to accompany you. That's where the ownership comes in. Said person is only there to facilitate your man meat hunt. And that would be my use for Chelsea Clinton. Although, I do hear she's quite a feisty little bitch sometimes, so I may need to stock up on sedatives. And by the looks of her, it seems I'm going to have to dip back into the Elephant Tranquilizer reserve.



Ads, Thank you for letting me pick your brain. I have collected all your brain boogers and put them on exhibit for all to see.
If you're on Twitter, make sure you follow @Ads_Infinitum for some fantastic turds of wisdom.

Perez Hilton Can Suck It.

Ok, I'm not going to pussyfoot around this. Yes, I said pussyfoot. I don't even know what that means, but I said it. Perez Hilton is a talentless hack.

Send me hate mail with all your little feelings in defense of this ass. I don't care, I completely stand by what I said. In fact, I care so little that I'll probably just end up using said hate mail as the kindling to start a honking fire in a clearing just so I can smoke signal "Perez is a Hack" over the Greater Toronto Area. But then again, your hate mail would mainly be electronic, so I don't know if I'd be able to pull that off. My netbook wouldn't make nearly enough smoke. Unless anyone else wants to get in on this with me. We could meet and open my hate mail one at a time on individual netbooks and light them. With enough luck and gasoline, I think we might be able to make this work. What was I talking about again? Right. Perez is an idiot.

Perez Hilton was nothing in my life a few days ago. Until then, I barely knew who he was. In fact, if I remember correctly (which I rarely do) I thought he was some kind of cartoon character. Or was it a drink at Jack Astors? Either way, I hardly even recognized him as a fellow human.

At work, I have the supreme misfortune of being forced to listen to Virgin radio - THE ENTIRE TIME. Just a few days ago I made the connection and realized that the witless idiot who gets 5 minutes during the morning show to say some very inane things about celebrities was in fact the same infinitely more famous than me blogger who rose to fame saying some very inane things about celebrities - but on a website. *That's who this Perez character is!* So, I quickly checked out his website only to discover that it was nothing but a collection of celebrities pictures with ejaculate drawn on the corner of their lips in MS Paint. I'll admit it. This really fucking chafed my chicken (that's a thing now, by the way). Yeah, I was jealous, alright? I'm over here writing actual words. Coherent (for the most), fantastic (IMO), meaningful(?) words. I even form entire thoughts sometimes AND include a picture. Which I don't alter with fake sperm in a pathetic attempt at comedy. Where the fuck is my radio show?

So that's where my contempt for Perez started. But it only got worse the next day when someone on the radio was talking about how he had been an extra in a film where Perez had a speaking role. A SPEAKING ROLE! Who gave this guy permission to do anything other than decorate pictures from People magazine with jiz and post them on his website with asinine captions such as, "Mariah likes the white stuff!"? People (Ok, fine. I) like to rag on celebrities for not being celeb worthy. This guy is famous for naming himself after someone who is famous for being a rich slut and making boring sex tapes. Do you see how far removed that is from actual fame? I say we vote Perez out of Hollywood, put him on the SS Pseudo-Celebrity and leave him stranded on D-List Island with Kathy Griffin and that guy that played Mr. Belding on Saved by the Bell.

In conclusion, Perez Hilton is a waste of internet space. I hope he reads this and ends up crying like he did when the Black Eyed Peas called him out for being a little pansy and roughed him up. Apparently he had called Fergie a pant-pissing, crypt keeper-looking meth head or something. Except he didn't have the balls to say it in person, he did it behind the pink veil of his worthless blog.

Ok, so maybe that's what I'm doing too. But I'd have no problem saying any of this to him in person. And not just because I know his entourage isn't made up of coked out bodyguards who would clothesline me in a heartbeat.

You are a large bag of suck, Perez.

Hipster Trend Alert : Pirate Chic

Fashion is a forever changing and evolving trend. As we seek to become individuals, our clothing often reflects a rebellion against the times and our need to set ourselves apart. Some opt for eccentricity, and dress in a truly iconoclastic way. Most choose to set themselves apart in an ironic fashion, by claiming their individuality through extremely subtle (sometimes even unnoticeable) variations on popular trends. In an interview with Mid Twenties Fashion Weekly’s editor, Sarah Marsh, we uncover the new and emerging fad that is currently taking the hipster world by storm.

JudgingEverything : Thank you for taking time to talk to us today. As someone who is in the loop, you are regularly exposed to new and exciting fashions. What is the next big thing with young adults?

MTFW: Fashion, much like technology, is cyclical. We often see themes that fade away, only to reemerge years later, such as the use of acid wash in the 80’s and then again in the early 2000’s. This season, the new in thing is an elaboration on the fake Bohemia that has been creeping into the mainstream for the past few years. It can be simply described as Pirate Chic. Think of it as a throw back to Milli Vanilli, with a little bit of Jack Sparrow thrown in for some edginess.

JudgingEverything: Could you describe the “Pirate Chic” look, and what our readers should be focusing on in order to pull it off.

MTFW: One word: Accessories. As many as you can find, and the gaudier the better. Think multiple necklaces, layered over each other in various colours and lengths. Extra points if you wear a rosary tangled up with them, because this season, blaspheme is the new black. Lately, we’re also seeing extra large gold hoop earrings, a staple of the Pirate Chic look. Tattered button up shirts over striped tights are a must, as well as a kerchief headband (Jolly Roger may be used for added effect). The cooler and more accepted hipsters are even boldly following in the footsteps of Paris Hilton, opting for the shoulder parrot. Aritzia is slated to release an entire line of shoulder parrots this season, varying in style from lifelike and feathered to solid platinum bejeweled pieces. There’s a shoulder parrot out there for all tastes and budgets.

JudgingEverything: With this constant shift in “cool”, how are young, and often underemployed, hipsters able to keep up with the ever changing trends in their community?

MTFW The interesting thing about hipsters is how well they utilize the limited resources they have available. The Pirate Chic look definitely reflects the impact that the economic downturn has made on them. We are seeing an emphasis on TND (torn and dirty) as well as a recycling of previous fashion trends. Remember when everyone wore oversized shirts? Years later, just when everyone was about to toss them because they’re out of style and decrepit, the hipsters bring them back into the limelight. The giant gold hoops from when girls thought they were J-Lo are easily transferred to this look and as scruff is encouraged, guys are able to save on razors and shaving cream. Not only is this style affordable, but it also gives hipsters yet another opportunity to brag about how they are recycling and saving the environment, instead of having to admit they are poor. And regardless what you think of this look, there is no denying it is a step up from last years trend of wearing a potato sack as a dress.

JudgingEverything agrees whole heartedly. For more information on the Pirate Chic look, pick up Sarah Marsh’s new book, “Me and My Skinnies: An intimate look inside the world of hipsters”.

@Lurkey Q & A

Here are some questions from the nice folks at Twitter. As I am an expert in all things, you can trust that these answers are absolutely correct in every way.


@Gleniboy: When Canada sold Celine Dion to the united states, were they paid in American currency?

A: Contrary to popular belief, Celine Dion was not purchased by the states. She was actually part of an exchange program, where we got Goldie Hawn and Kurt Russel to live in Muskoka, because literally anything other than Celine Dion would have been better. Real Canadians don’t like Celine, if simply for the fact that she’s French. Now that her sentence at the MGM has been served, I’m sure she thinks she can traipse back into Canada and be welcomed with open arms. Wrong, bitch. Stay the hell away from Canada. You’re a disgrace; we’d rather have dinner with Anne Murray AND Rita MacNeil than have to admit we spawned you, devil child. In conclusion, Celine’s voice makes my ears bleed the deepest burgundy imaginable, and as head Canadian, I renounce ownership and take no responsibility for any ear bleeding she may cause abroad. And besides, everyone knows that Canadian currency is actually back bacon and maple syrup. We're still on a bartering system over here.


@insidemikeshead Where the hell are my keys?

A: That of course would depend on the type of keys you are looking for. If we’re speaking gangsta, then I’m assuming the kilos of cocaine would be shoved snuggly up your rectum, inside a tied off balloon, naturally. If you’re looking for piano keys, I am very disappointed. Do you know that when they mutilate and murder an elephant for its ivory, they don’t even have the decency to impale it on a massive kebob and spit roast it? Do you know how many poachers you could feed with just one mutilated and murdered elephant? Absolutely despicable. If, on the other hand, you are looking for your car keys, I hid them. Here is a clue. They’re inside your car.


@TheWanderingHotel Where do people get off getting off in public? And how can I join them?

A: People who get off in public are known as philanthropists. Wait. Felatio Artists. That’s the one. They are able to get off in public because something about being watched gets them all riled up. I can definitely relate. One time, I was on the subway and there was a man sitting nearby who was reading the newspaper. Or so I thought. Turns out he was actually whacking it real good, under the cover of today’s daily. So naturally, I got up and went to stand directly behind his shoulder. The angle at which he was holding the newspaper allowed me to not only peruse the sports section, but also count the amount of people that I was making incredibly uncomfortable. If you encounter an over the top public display of affection, I suggest you use the same strategy. Get as close as possible until you are noticed. If you happen to make eye contact, don’t break it- NO MATTER WHAT! If you’re having a hard time getting noticed, try breathing heavily. And if all else fails, try the old “there’s no question why I’m clearing my throat” throat clearing. If you follow these steps, you’ll be publicly fornicating in no time. You’re welcome.

Send more questions to @lurkey on Twitter.

This is a public service I perform free of charge, but feel free to send me gifts anyway.

Swine Flu doesn't Exist. Its just your dad dressed up.

I'm really not into the topical thing. Except for that topical ointment, but its doctor prescribed. But I've had a request for a swine flu post, so I figured I'd rise to the challenge. And by that, I mean in the most half assed way that I possibly can. So, instead of doing research, I'm going to interview my coworker, who outside of Twitter, is the only person I've ever heard talk about swine flu.

DISCLAIMER: Judging Everything is a world leader in investigatory journalism. Everything you are about to read is a cold hard FACT. Actually, I can't necessarily speak for the coldness of the facts, as they have been sitting here unrefrigerated for some time. But they are indeed hard. So there.



JE Judging Everything welcomes you! Now, could you please be so kind as to state your name, cultural background and favorite colour.

PC Pilar. Mexican. Green.

JE Do you promise that you are Mexican? Judging Everything requires an expert to handle this catastrophic pandemic.

PC Born in Puebla City in the State of Puebla.

JE Because you used a word that I don't recognize twice, I believe you. Ok, so last winter, I went to Mexico and a Mariachi band played "La Cucaracha" for me. In order to verify that you are in fact Mexican, finish the song:

"La cucaracha, la cucaracha,
ya no quieres caminar,
porque no tienes,
porque le falta,
__________________________"

PC "Marijuana que fumar" (Hahaha)

JE You are correct. I think I speak for everyone when I say that you have clearly demonstrated that you are a reliable source. Ok, down to business. First bird flu, now swine flu. Is my breakfast, in fact, trying to kill me?

PC Well, I think the only way bacon could kill you would be if you choked on a piece while dancing topless on the kitchen table during breakfast.

JE So you're saying yes then. Also, while I enjoy your presence at breakfast, I'd prefer if you could refrain from divulging the details of my morning warm up across the interweb.
Now, because I was sleeping while this whole catastrophe began, I actually know pretty much nothing about "swine flu". Could you give me a brief explanation as to why everyone is losing their shit?

PC Because people are STUPID. Anyone can die from a flu if their immune system is compromised (especially elderly people, the very young, or anorexic people). There have been 4 outbreaks so far, (1918 USA , 1976 USA , 2007 Philippines, 2009 Mexico) of this virus that was cultured (grown or developed or whatever) in a lab.

JE So then, have you any advice for these stupid people?

PC Wash your hands regularly and take your Vitamin C so your immune system is strong.

JE Keep in mind they are stupid. Lets keep it simple. I find simple instructions disguised as a mathematical equation often helps. WASH HANDS + DON'T MAKE OUT WITH PIGS + VITAMINS = HEALTHY
So what you're trying to say is I'm not going to die?

PC You're healthy - so unless you suddenly decide that you can fly and take a dive off the CN tower, you are not going to die. (Besides, most of the cases during this outbreak haven't needed to be hospitalized)

JE I will take you up on your CN tower trip. I'll pack a picnic lunch (no ham). In your expert opinion, what is actually causing swine flu? (Its Google, right?)

PC I think somebody thought it would be funny to release the virus in a country where millions of people live in poverty and can't afford to eat well let along buy Vitamin C. Getting a flu sucks for sure but I'm much more wary of traveling to one of the many Asian countries where TB is rampant (80% of population). Oh! And a special Mexican tea helps relieve serious cold/flu issues. Boil some fresh chopped ginger and a couple of crushed cloves of garlic in a small pot of water. Strain and add honey. This clears out mucus in the throat, heals sore throat and cough, and relieves voice loss.

JE I like your very brief conspiracy theory, and wholeheartedly support it. I also like how you redirected the attention from the conspiracy to the real problem, Asian countries. As much as I don't want to believe you, you've won me over with your deliciously savory Mexican cuisine. Very clever. Very clever indeed.
Now, one last question. What do you think about the theory that Susan Boyle and Swine Flu being unleashed on the public simultaneously was not coincidental?

PC Well, both are quite unappealing, but perhaps her too-much-vibratto musical theatre voice was intended to sooth the sheeple as they stood in line waiting for a vaccine designed for a completely different strain of flu virus.

JE Touche Salesman. On that note, I thank you for your time. I hope this has been informative. Please tell all your friends the cold hard facts you've learned here today. And no need to thank me, its all in a days work




PS. The preceding was a LIE! SWINE FLU IS COMING FOR YOU! You are going to grow a curly tail in your sleep. You are going to start craving a good roll in the mud. You are going to cough in Oinks. BE AFRAID! - CNN

Susan Boyle gets Judged. Just deal with it.

Usually, when I pick a subject to write about, I try to stay away from hot topics (or trending topics, if you will). At least while they're happening. I find people become very attached to pseudo celebrities, especially when they can identify their faults and talents easily. And the more strongly correlated these two are, the more people become fanatic.

Example: Ugly + Can Sing = We Like.
Really Ugly + Can Really Sing = We Really Like.

It's simple arithmetic.

Staying away from topics like this ensures that I don't offend anyone who may stumble upon this blog. If you've read any of my other entries, you already know that being politically correct and maintaining a diplomatic stance is extremely important to me. You'll also note I am not a fan of sarcasm.

But someone who I will egotistically call a "fan" requested this entry, and so at the risk of offending all the people who are on the Susan Boyle bandwagon, I'm going to tell you a little about my thoughts on this media whore. (Hate mail goes in comments section, btw)

Lets start with the actual performance. Ok, she can carry a tune. But that's all I'll give her. She's definitely not extraordinary or even very talented. I'm not trying to be a bitch (I mean that literally, its actually quite natural for me) but if this lady wasn't so horrendously hideous, no one would have given a shit about her performing a mundane Broadway standard that requires the vocal range of a pubescent boy. She sang well enough, but like some kind of auditory illusion, what you thought you heard was actually entirely influenced by sheer surprise, since your first compulsion was to violently vomit all over the television screen. I did hear, though, that if you take the audio from the performance and dub it over the Richard Simmons sex tape, they synchronize in an eerily uncanny way.

Please agree with me that the very best moment of this video was the judging. Swayed by the overwhelming audience support, even Simon Cowell (Scowell, as I like to call him) had to pay his own backhanded compliments. Its interesting how Susans appearance made the judges so comfortable with patronizing and belittling her to her face.

"Oh, Susan! That was incredible. I think we can all agree that when we saw you go up there, we thought your voice was going to be as malformed as your face."

Cut to Susan's somewhat confused look (guessing at the emotion here, the eyebrows were blocking most of my view).

"Wow, you blew us away! And here we were dialing up our reinforcements to chase you with torches and pitchforks out of town. No, seriously. They're on their way."

Cut to Susan, looking slightly shaken, but still happy to be getting any kind of recognition.

"Just goes to show, don't judge a book by its cover, beauty is on the inside, even the most beautiful rose has its thorns, some other clichee that basically means we think you look like the hell spawn of Ms. Trunchbull and Nanny McPhee". (see below)

Cut to Susan, forced smile, hands behind her back, whittling her mike box into a stabby apparatus.

Hey, you asshole judges. She's ugly, not retarded. She understands all the words you are saying and can even put them into context. I was offended for her, and quickly wished her the best (in my head, but I'm sure she and I are on the same brainwave, since I recently hacked my brain with an iPhone application that I got for $2.99. It made me psychic, and this is how I communicate with celebritards). But once again, my powers work in a way that is even above my own understanding and this beast ended up as the top 6 videos on YouTube! And not even the video of the performance, just some horrible still of Susan while her singing 'Cry me a River' plays in the background. And not even the JT version! (I know, right? It just keeps getting worse...)

What is wrong with you people?!?

I'd like to refer you to Patti Labelle, Aretha Franklin, Sharon Jones, shit, even Rita McNeal. Here are some very large ladies who can actually sing. YouTube them instead, ok?



If you don't hate me already, I'll leave you with this:

This may be the most talent a Boyle has had since I taught that tuberous growth on my upper arm to crotchet.