Two separate, yet equal, things that have just pissed me right off so far today

Lemme ask you something ... And be honest. I could be crazy, here.

Does this offend you?

That's a picture of a sign from an advertising campaign by Sheetz, which is a Pennsylvania-based convenience store chain.

Crispy frickin' chicken!

Pretty harmless, right? Maybe even a little funny?

Not according to one guy. And as we all know, ONE guy is enough to ruin even the best party.

Frickin' ads catch more than attention

OK, in the interest of full disclosure, I don't like Sheetz.

I freaking LOVE it.

If the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania would allow me to enter into marriage with Sheetz, it easily would become my second husband. Any man who entertains dating me is made aware, up front, that they're No. 2 in my heart to Sheetz. And God help him if we don't stop at Sheetz if we pass one along the way on a road trip. Deal breaker. It's over. You're out.

I've actually go so far as to map out routes BASED on where you can find ... a Sheetz.

As Sweet Ann pointed out this morning, when one of our friends on the Groundhog Day trip got sick from her Sheetz sandwich, I actually said, "If I ever got sick from something I ate at Sheetz, I'd apologize to Sheetz for being weak."

But, really, that's not the point here. The point?

Let me use this to set it up and drive it home.

It's too close to a certain four-letter-word that Sherri and Michael Sucec used to use before they were saved, a word that commonly means having sex. When the Sucecs noticed the Sheetz billboard in Derry Twp., they called and wrote their complaints to Sheetz.

"If we have any sanity left in the United States of America, this is totally unacceptable," Michael Sucec told the Derry Twp. supervisors Tuesday night, speaking with the Bible on his podium. He appealed to the supervisors' sensibilities, hoping they would help remove the billboard.

No, Michael. If we have any sanity left in the United States of America, people like you will SHUT YOUR FRICKIN' MOUTH. If we have any sanity left in the United States, we stop throwing hissy fits every time something doesn't fall within the neat packaging our moral compass fits inside.

It isn't like you've got a naked chick covering herself in wing sauce to get you to eat this sandwich, people. It isn't like they used the mother of all curse words that starts with an F. It isn't like they're making sweet, passionate love to a piece of breaded poultry. No wang was harmed, or seen, in the making of his ad.

Really, Michael? Everything that's wrong morally in this world and you're taking umbrage with "frickin'"?

You don't like the billboard? Ignore it. Accept it for the temporary medium it is. In fact, Michael, you've totally done exactly what marketing geniuses at Sheetz would hope -- by you BITCHING and WHINING like a vadge, you got your name in the paper. Congratulations. You also helped Sheetz get people into their stores to see what the big frickin' deal is.

And, as my hero Paul Harvey would say, Page Two:

I have a giant, crippling fear of public marriage proposals. I mean, even thinking about it to write this blog is causing hives to break out on my right arm. I wish I was kidding about this, because hives are amazingly unsexy.

I didn't know this little factoid, but apparently on Leap Day (which for those of you playing along at home, is today) women have the right to ask their special dude to marry them.

Why in God's name you need a "special" day to make this happen is beyond me. Maybe it's because I don't think like a typical woman. I think that if I was in love with someone enough that I wanted to marry them, in my low-key way I'd be like, "Hey, I just saw that 'Ghostbusters' is on at 8 and 'Ghostbusters II' is on at 10! Badass!! You know what else would be awesome? If you'd marry me."

I don't think I'd ever get to that point, though. Most men I know are so protective of that kind of moment that I wouldn't want to take it from them. And besides, to beat a trendy new adage into the ground, if I was dating a man for a long, extended period of time and he hadn't addressed it, I'd be willing to believe that he's "just not that into me."

Some people aren't into marriage, and I'm 100 percent in favor of that. Clearly, I'm no example of "how-to" when it comes to the marriage department. Some of the happiest, most functional couples I know have been together years and years and never got married. I can't say I'll ever get married again. That doesn't mean that I won't fall in love and spend the rest of my life with someone -- it means that I'll never again feel the need to take it to that "formalization" step.

But this girl ... oof. She not only felt the need to drive it to that step, but do it in a really, really public manner.

Hey, Sean: Will You Marry Me?

You don't get much more public than the New York Daily News with its circulation well over a million. And you don't get much more public than a followup appearance on "The Today Show."

Which, for your viewing pleasure, by the way:



Am I the only person who senses his visible, rampant discomfort? He's so uncomfortable it's like he's sitting with a hot metal poker going straight in the back door. He may as well have worn a sandwich board that said, "I had no choice but to say yes."

She's oblivious to his suffering right now. This was at 7:45 a.m. I can guarantee now, almost three hours later, she's well aware of it.

To use a phrase I use often, "This will not end well."

Why would you put someone through this? I'm for creative proposals and all, but not in front of millions of people. I guess I'm a traditionalist in that I think that's a really private moment.

I'm really mad at this woman. Not good form, Marina. Not good form at all.

Quote of the Week

Paige, on Arizona Diamondbacks honcho and WVU grad/big donor Ken Kendrick:

"Don't shit in the punchbowl, Ken. It's our party."

For those who may not have seen what lead to my awarding of the Quote of the Week, here's the context from a story on ESPN.com:

West Virginia booster Ken Kendrick, who was outspoken in his support of Rodriguez following his departure, called it a "sad morning."

"He is so overmatched it's not even funny," said Kendrick, managing partner of Major League Baseball's Arizona Diamondbacks. "He's a nice guy and a father figure. But they had a wonderful architect and they hired the painter to build the next house. I want Bill Stewart to win and I want our program to be successful. But I feel bad for our future. I'm very concerned."

Really, Ken? Really?

I get it. Rich was your boy. And that's cool. I'm OK with that. But is it necessary to kick a man in the sack the morning after he picks up the pieces of something shattered at his feet, takes some duct tape, puts the thing back together and happens to make it work?

And here's the other thing -- I don't think it really matters what you think. You'll write your check or you won't. A big wallet doesn't give you the final say and it doesn't entitle you to be a total douchebag. You love this program so much? Just do everybody a favor and shut up.

Prisoners have it better than you

Note to self: When you get locked up for something unique, be lucky enough that you committed the crime in Clayton County, Ga.

Clayton prison requests satellite TV for inmates

By MEGAN MATTEUCCI
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution
Published on: 11/13/07
The latest management tool to settle prison squabbles could be "Monday Night Football."
The Clayton County Correctional Institution asked the County Commission on Tuesday to order DIRECTV for the Lovejoy prison.
Warden Frank Taylor Smith said inmates have been grumbling since "Monday Night Football" moved from ABC to ESPN.
"The reason is 'Monday Night Football' is now on cable," he said. "Although it might seem funny, when you have 90 percent of inmates watching something, it is a management tool for the institution."
The direct-broadcast satellite service — less than $100 a month — will be paid for from money collected at the prison's commissary and pay phones. Last year, the prison collected $41,000 from the inmate commissary and telephones but spent only a quarter of that money on inmate welfare, Smith said.
The 226 inmates housed in the facility's five dormitories now have the option of watching two channels, but half the time the reception is poor.
"It's a very routine thing. Every state prison has cable or DIRECTV," Smith said. "We have an antenna now."
Smith told the commission that all state prisons and 90 percent of county institutions have either cable or satellite TV.
However, Georgia Department of Corrections officials say that is not correct.
"No prisoners have DIRECTV. Television is a privilege," said Tracy Smith, a state corrections spokeswoman. "Our televisions have antennas."
The state pays a stipend to Clayton County to house inmates in the medium security prison, which serves as a work camp to provide labor for the county's public works, water authority, landfill and other departments. County officials say they save $1.4 million annually by using inmate labor.
The Clayton County Commission will vote on the DIRECTV proposal next week.

... what part of "you're in jail because you committed a crime and you don't deserve all of the things people who aren't in jail have" did I miss?

Follow up file: You're suing the wrong guy, Amy.

Ah, friends. It's time for another visit from the Lou-meister. And now, it's getting even better.

You know how you ask yourself, "Could this get any better?"

It just has.

For those of you who are new, we've previously established that Lou Bellera, husband of Amy Fisher, shouldn't be trusted under any circumstances.

The reason?

1. His name is Lou.

2. That hair is a dead giveaway.

3. Those f-ing sunglasses.

I also learned that Lou used to be a cop. This may open up a whole new category of men that shouldn't be trusted (in addition to the universally accepted men with two first names, men with stand alone moustaches and men who have, or used to have, mullets), but more on that should the need arise.

Today, TMZ.com (a site to which I am hopelessly addicted) reports that Amy and her husband have filed suit in federal court in New York to stop the distribution of this tape.

Here's where I really wish I lived on Long Island and Amy and I could push our carts around at King Kullen and talk this through. I'd talk to her about what was bothering me that day, likely that I had to wait 35 minutes to get my acrylics filled at the strip mall that morning and that my Dolce and Gabbana velvet track suit was STILL at the cleaners after one of the twins threw up all over it ... again ... at the Catholic school fundraiser. Then I'd be quiet and listen to what was troubling her. In this case, she'd clearly be the winner.

I'd tell her that she's suing the wrong person.

I mean, I'm no lawyer, but I'd say the problem here far more rests with her douchewagon of a husband than the distributor. I mean, after all, he sold it to them fair and square as a way to get back at his estranged wife. He knew exactly what he was doing when he sold it.

In the lawsuit (which you can read at TMZ.com), it says that he didn't have the right to sell it without her permission, so when he did it, he wasn't cleared to do so, so the distributor can't legally distribute what they technically weren't able to legally buy in the first place.

Oh, COME ON.

I would tell Amy while we hung out at Starbucks that afternoon that I respect being through a lot with your man, and I understand wanting to keep your family in tact, but some things are unforgivable. His hair is unforgivable, but let's look past the physical for a minute. I stand by what I said earlier -- I'd f-ing kill him. I wouldn't need a lawyer to stop the tape, I'd need a lawyer to stop me from 20 to life at Albion for dismembering my husband in a way that people only write books about.

I would say, Amy, you said that you just wanted to hide out in your house and let this blow over (pardon the pun). Filing a lawsuit trying to block something that probably can't be stopped at this point isn't the way to have that happen.

You also may want to read my various writings on the specific types of men to NOT trust. You're lax in that department.

Follow up file: I'd f-ing kill him.

In today's edition of the best newspaper ever -- the New York Post -- they ran a follow up article to yesterday's Amy Fisher news.

In this latest article, Lou ... Remember Lou?
You know.

Lou.

And you shouldn't trust Lou because:

1. His name is Lou.

2. Hair!

3. Sunglasses.

Anyway ...

Lou says he regrets hawking their bedroom vids in anger. He was just mad that Amy was seeing Joey again (which, OK, I'm FOR you on that, Lou, I really am!) so he acted out in anger and decided that the only thing that would make him feel better during a divorce from a notorious woman would be cash and fringe fame.

Here's where I get real pissed ...

It's bad enough he sold it to a distributor. It's even worse that they got back together shortly thereafter and he didn't tell her about it UNTIL A MONTH OR SO AGO.

"I did it out of the heat of anger and passion," Bellera told The Post.

"We were estranged. She was seeing Joey. I was seething about the whole thing. It just came to a point where I was hurt and embarrassed by it . . . and it pressed the wrong button. I just used that as a vehicle to strike back at her."

You know what I'd use as my vehicle to strike back at you, Lou? A Sherman tank. With a big, giant, sharp, pointy knife on the end.

Fisher said she was willing to forgive her husband.

"We've been together for so many years and have had so many ups and downs," she said. ". . . I don't want to see it. It's better for me if I just don't think about it. I'm just going to hide in my house."

Amy, you're a better woman than I am. That man would be bleeding in the front yard in a few hundred pieces if I would have been on the receiving end of that. But, I'm hoping you take away a few lessons from this.

1. Videotape nothing ever, ever again. Lou hoses you once, Lou will hose you again.

2. Never underestimate guilt as a weapon.

3. You are totally in the clear to be as bad as you want for pretty much the rest of your life. If you're called out on it, you clearly have the response of, "Yeah, well, at least I didn't sell our sex tape."

Siiiiigh.