It's the End of the World as we Know it

And I feel fine.

I think it's sad but true folks... I do believe that the gurftastic blog will move it's home...  Unless the huddled masses, yearning to breathe free cry out in a chorus of Janie's Got a Gun in Portuguese.  I've started a little mini-blog over with those NewsCorp. owned Myspace folks.  Despite how evil Rupert Murdoch is, he still hasn't put annoying screaming ads on my blog page.  Check it out if you dig.  If not, then why are you even reading this?  This right now.  T-h-i-s?

in other shocking and as yet unthinkable news, BBT.

And so it Goes

OK, there's a few things wrong here.  First a grown man listening to KISS FM type pop-tart music.  Secondly, a grown man who is an elementary school teacher listening to KISS FM type pop-tart music at 3 in the morning.  Third, a grown man who is an elementary school teacher listening to KISS FM type pop-tart music at 3 in the morning at a decibel level so loud that my windows rattle, my bed shakes (not in the good way) and my brain hurts in JUST the right way to give me murderous rages.  The man is obviously an idiot.  I don't know how he gets up too go to work in the morning, but that's not really my business.  The REAL problem, is I can't really bitch all that much, since he has to put up with my incessant bugling.  But the fact that I have to be subjected to his "musak" makes me want to rip my ears off, stuff them down my throat, and shoot a baby while getting high on crystal meth.

Favorite dirty-sounding but somehow completely innocent quote of the month:
    "Can you just take it out and come on top of me?"

Update:  He's switched to some sort of R&B this morning.  Well, that's "nice" I guess.

What's with Hollywood making sequels to movies that weren't good in the first place?  I just saw an ad for "The Butterfly Effect 2".  Now, I mean did they honestly think when they made the first movie (which I never saw, but have only heard was the worst movie in the history of bad Ashton Kucher movies) that it had serious franchise potential?  Maybe it's Disney's fault, with their "Lion King 2 1/2" and shit like that.  All I know is that there are Thousands of writers in the world who are insanely creative.  Why is it that this schlock gets green-lit? 

On the power of the Gurftastic blog:  You'll notice that that damn "That's the Kung Pao Sauce for my Srimp" commercial hasn't been on the air in over a year.  Now, MAYBE it's because they changed their ad campaign, but I believe TGIFriday's caved to the intense backlash caused by the two people who read this blog.  Thanks Mom, I'll call soon.

On Giving ME shit:  Don't.  I don't like it.

I might be in love with the fairy from that Dodge commercial.  I can't decide if it's the whole "Tinkerbell" thing, or if it's just the gratuitous shots of her cleavage.  I'm guessing a little from column A, a little from column B.

I live near a Church.  On Sundays, the bells ring and bring the godiness to everyone within earshot.  That's nice.

http://www.reelwavs.com/movies/sounds/swingers/swingers13.mp3

Why is it that all truck commercials have distortion guitar as the music?  Do electric guitar riffs subconciously make us think of trucks?  Why do sedan commercials have hip-hop?  Are you supposed to buy the car that is synchronized to your particular music preferrence?  Don't get me wrong... I love "Iron Man", but it doesn't make me think of Nissan trucks.

Wow the Raiders suck.

What is with all the school murder these days?  Lots of chimos, pre-meditated rape attempts, suicides, horrific killings and the like.  What the fuck?  There's something seriously wrong with the world right now.  I'm not sure how, but something tells me it's all the Democrats' fault.

Lite Brite, PlayMobile, and Etch-a-Sletch

Well, well, well.  So we meet again, for the first time for the last time.  The gurftastic blog has taken quite a hiatus.  Does anyone really use Friendster anymore though?

On sacking up:  There's really only one true sign of someone who's embraced the craze that's sweeping the nation.  No, it's not the crazed look in his eye.  No it's not the fiery wrath he unleashes on the general population.  It's more the air of dignity and self-respect he carries himself with.  Too many young men I know have been subjugated by the self-inflicted shackles of the apologetic boyfriend.  Stop apologizing for being yourself.  Sack up, and take your life into your own hands.  And probably your wiener too.

What's with everyone getting married lately?  I mean, congrats and everything, but seriously, this shit is getting out of hand.  It's my theory that the vast majority of young people who get married are simply scared of being alone.  They find someone equally scared, and they decide to get hitched.  Some, I'm sure are in love.  But the fact remains that someone in their mid-twenties is generally not the same person when they are in their mid-thirties.  People change, mature, or whatever.  Perhaps the reason for all the divorce is the overabundance of early hitchery?  Shit, I mean, Behnke is married.  Are you people just hoping that you grow together, instead of apart?  That's dumb.  You guys suck.  Congrats though.

You know what REALLY grinds my gears?  Lindsey Lohan.

What's with the over-sized sunglasses ladies?  That shit is getting REEEEEAAAALLLLLYYYYY old.  How bout you stop trying to look like Paris "I'm a skanked up anorexic coke-head with a penchant for cock-chugging" Hilton and start actually having an individual thought?  No, those glasses aren't "fun" or "cute".  They're just sad.  They're your attempt at conforming.  As much as women love to talk about their individuality, and all that, the overriding mantra remains, it's better to be pretty and fashionable, than to be somehow ugly or different.  I'll tell you what, if you keep buying those sunglasses, you have no right to bitch about how unrealistically thin the "model ideal" is.  You're buying into the same machine, just from a different side of the fence.  Stop buying those little fucking dogs too, those things suck.  Also, men shouldn't wear thongs while sunbathing in the park.  Gross.  GFLO will back me up on that one.  That shit was gross.

Man, it's getting dark in here.

On Relationships:  The best advice I ever got:  "The ring is bubkis!  I found it in a CrackerJack Box!  The Schwartz is in YOU!"  Or maybe it was "Oh, great... a Druish Princess... Funny, she doesn't LOOK Druish."  But I know it wasn't "We've lost the bleeps, the creeps, and the sweeps."  That much I do know.

Congrats to me, on the second, third, and fourth Spaceballs reference of this edition of the blog!  Can't find the first?  Then you suck.

I almost got in a fight the other night.  Anyone who knows me should find that funny enough, on account of how easily I bruise.  But on further reflection, it wasn't really that great of an idea.  But I would've won.  That douche was WAY smaller than me.

What's the DEAL with airline peanuts?

Sometimes people's motives are completely hollow and they don't even know it.  But I know it.  I can see into your soul.  And to be honest, sometimes it's almost silly how simple you are.  You cheeky bastards.

Campylobacterium jejeuni

So I'm minding my own business on the subway at 11:00 pm on a Saturday on my way downtown to meet some friends. There's no one on the subway, save the requisite hobo, duane reade worker, and hoochie. But some 70-year-old russian dude gets on the subway and decides that with a virtuallly unlimited area with which to stand, infront of me seems to be the best place. Now not just infront of me, we're talking as close as if it was the peak of rush hour in tokyo and there's nowhere to even turn your head. I mean, I don't generally get claustraphobic, but then again, I don't normally have the neck of a 70-year-old russian man within six microns of my face. And seeing as how I was leaning agianst the doors marked, "Do not lean on doors", I was somewhat trapped.


If you had the power to be invisible, what percentage of your day would be spent watching hot chicks shower? For me it'd be like 95%. I figure the other 5 would be taken up with getting in and out of the various houses and apartments of the hot chicks, and with finding different hot chicks to watch shower. Also, and I'm just hypothesizing here, but if you were to say, be watching a hot chick shower, and feel the need to... ummm... pleasure yourself, would your baby-batter also be invisible? If not, wouldn't that make some pretty great practical jokes? I mean, I can think of a lot of evil purposes for invsibility, but I feel like the best solution for "what do I do with this power" is totally watching hot chicks shower. Now I realize that there might be a girl out there reading this (that's more of a hope than a realization), so for you I pose the questions, "How does being invisible make you feel? Do you sometimes feel like you're invisible already?" That's not to say that the girl equivalent of a guy looking at chicks naked is talking about feelings, but... wait yes it is. We get off on different things, folks.

Here's to people making bad choices. Like still writing a friendster blog. And not sleeping.

PS... I've got playoff fever. And I think it's contagious.

Incarcerating the Consonance

This is what I have to deal with foiks:

A casual conversation with random friend...

Me: Wow, so you get up everyday at 5 am? What for?
Her: I go swim at the Y.
Me: Wow, that's impressive. How do you get up so early?
Her: God wakes me up.
Me: Like, He calls you at 5 in the morning?

I mean, what the fuck is THAT? Now maybe I'm just really "skeptical" of organized religion, crazy religious fanatics, and people who claim that it is GOD that wakes them up, rather than say, I dunno... their alarm clock, or their internal biological clock, or I dunno... a loud noise... or ummm... because they have to pee. I mean, I guess you could say that it was GOD who makes you have to pee in the morning, but I think it has more to do with the liquid that you drank the night before. And while I'm going there, what's up with violence and faith? I mean, do you really think Jesus would be down with the Crusades? I won't mention other deities for fear of causing worldwide riots, but I'm pretty sure that, you know when Jerry Falwell said he hopes we "bomb them all to hell in the name of the Lord" (the "them" being the Iraqi insurgents), he was about as far from Christian values as you can get.

I hate the Delta Airlines phone reservation service. I hate their automated system. I hate their pin codes. I hate that the damn computer doesn't understand me when I talk to it. I hate that the computer doesn't recognize my skymiles number. I hate that when you finally get to talk to someone it's "Bill" or "Tim" from India or Pakistan or somesuch. I hate that they can't tell you anything worthwhile. I hate that when you ask to speak to a supervisor that they talk to the supervisor "for you" and then try to pass information to you. I hate that you have to ask to speak to a supervisor at least 8 times before you actually get the grand opportunity of waiting on hold before speaking to supervisor, who literally knows nothing. I hate that when you choose to redeem a flight with miles on delta.com on a "on hold" reservation that you made over the phone that the computer allows you to confirm the reservation, but instead of actually giving you a ticket, it cancels the reservation. Read that again, because it probably didn't make sense the first time. And I hate that it doesn't tell you that it's doing it. I hate that while you're on hold waiting for a supervisor that your Pakistani customer disservice agent keeps interrupting the hold musak to inform you with insightful pre-scripted messages like "Appologize (sic) for your wait but I am attempting to get in touch with my superior. I request that you wait sometime." I hate that this exact sentiment needs to be repeated every one-and-a-half minutes (I timed it). Perhaps some customer service trainer decided that Americans like to get checked in with every-so-often so they don't think that you've forgotten about them. As though I need you to repeat the same fucking thing to me every fucking minute. I mean I know the attention span of Americans is shit, but you can just say, "I'm still waiting, sir" or some other equally informative, free-styled sentiment... that is if you actually speak the fucking language. I hate that speaking to customer service makes me madder than anything in the universe. Even madder than that one time that I was really REALLY mad.


OK, ummm also, I wish that Republicans were able to think for themselves, instead of just towing the party line. I was watching "Real Time with Bill Maher", which is a brilliant show (and if you don't have HBO, it's basically "Pollitically Incorrect" except with cussing). He had Republican Rep. Dana Rohrabacher of California on. For those of you who don't know, a few days ago, Rohrabacher announced his feelings on the immigration debate, saying "Why should illegal immigrants be picking American crops, when we could get prisoners to do it?" Awesome. So Bill Maher kinda took it easy on him, since the other two guests actually were terrible (Seth Green, who's funny, was forced and relatively un-informed, and author Erica Jong was about the least choesively arguing author I've seen on the show in a long time—think liberal-minded, but without the insight into either the field of DEBATE, or the field of persuasion, leading to an inablity to string together the loosely related facts and conspiracy theorem that she was found of spouting to be able to produce a tight argument. It's a lot like the Democratic Party in that way. Like they have ALL the facts, and all the data is in their favor, but nobody seems to be able to connect the dots in a way garners them any support). But then the issue of the Iraq war, and premeditation for it came up, and Rohrabacher announced that the reason we went into Iraq as opposed to the other countries with Dictators who sponsor terror is because Saddam had a "blood grudge" against us ever since we took him out of Kuwait. He said that the world was safer now that he was out of power, and that it's better to be fighting all of the Al Qaeda in Iraq IN IRAQ rather than in America. Ummm... Bill called him on it a little, questioning why we're not going to war with North Korea, why we're not at war with Iran... Rohrabacher countered with the fact that Saddam used weapons of mass destruction on his own people. So Bill asked about Turkmenistan (where the dictator did much the same thing). You see, the problem is that deep down, Republicans know that this war is unjust. They know that their President (and here it'd be kick-ass if I could figure out a way to print the "e" backwards, because I figure that'd be a fun way to demean W) fucked up, but for some reason BLINDLY follow, even when faced with all the evidence to the contrary. Perhaps it's because elections are coming up. Perhaps it's because when you check the little box on your voter registration card that says "Republican" you lose your ability for rational cognition. I'm not really sure. All I know is I fucking hate that I've written an entire blog while waiting to speak to a fucking supervisor.

And PS... the system hung up on me after 32 minutes on hold.

Spaceballs 2: The Search for More Money

So I watched Mullholland Drive again. PS I'm still confused. For those of you who don't know David Lynch, his movies are in a word "surrealist". If you never watched "Twin Peaks", and have never seen "Blue Velvet", you probably have no idea how messed up and confusing a movie or tv show can be. But this one takes the cake. It's not like a "Momento" (which I love), where the movie makes a ton more sense on a second viewing. Since Mullholland Dr. has no answers, and only questions, there's really no relief there. So if anyone out there is smart, and can explain what the fuck the Cowboy has to do with anything, I'd sure appreciate it. PPS I'm pretty sure it's the only movie I've ever seen with a "crying while masturbating" scene.

In the "Only in NYC" category: Overheard conversation of a group of 9 year-old girls. "She was popping tic-tacs like crazy. I mean, she was eating them like they were heroin or something". I don't think I knew what "heroin" was when I was 9. Shit, I don't think I knew what a "tic-tac" was. Shit, I don't think I knew what "was" was.

In the "Funny Things on NPR" as you wake up category: Normally it's just, "11 more dead in Iraq" or "Cheney on shooting rampage". Today was different. "Defense attorney's want to see how far the taint goes". For those of you who don't know, the "taint" is a colloquial term (also commonly referred to as the "chode", "gooch" or "grundle") for the skin between the anus and the genitals. And since anything involving butts, weiners, "coochies", or crotches in general has been a source of amusement for me since I was about 4, I found this statement quite appealing. And while in THIS case, the "taint" was referring to how even though Moussaoui has already pleaded guilty, and this is only a sentencing trial, federal prosecutors still felt the need to cheat, and coach witnessess, I still found it amusing. Yup... the system works!

Am I the only guy out there who kinda wishes that there had been a hot teacher like Debra LaFave looking to do some molestin' when I was in middle school? I mean, do you really think the kid was traumatized? His hot teacher blew him and screwed him in his cousin's car. It doesn't sound like a bad deal to me. For those of you getting offended, remember, there's NEVER a bad time for a molestation joke.

And now for something completely different... Here's a noodler for your noggin... Is "infinitesimally" any more infinite than "infinitely"? And if so, how? And if not, why are there two words with the same root that mean the same thing, with the only difference being the number of letters involved? I mean, I know that the former means "small", but can't you say "infinitely small" instead of "infinitesimally small"? What gives America?

Sacrebleu

First a partial retraction. It has come to my attention that a phrase in my last blog (namely, "girls are fucking idiots") has offended some of my female friends. While indeed I understand that not ALL girls are fucking idiots, my case is basically this: In my unique personal experience, the sheer number of girls who are fucking idiots versus the number of sentient beings with female genitalia who I've met results in a very unequal ratio, the former far outweighing the latter. Being somewhat scientifically minded, I extrapolated these findings for the 3 billion-some women on the planet, and conjecture that on the whole, most women are fucking idiots. Now while broad generalizations do tend to leave people out, it is in our very nature as human beings (the very term "human" is a generalization) to generalize. Categorizing things helps us to find an order and a logic to the universe, and helps us to rationalize our existence. So I'm sorry if that phrase offends. I'm sure my explanation offends more. But let's look at it for what it really is. A story about a boy and a bar, and a pyschologist, and her being an idiot.

Next, and more importantly, things that offend ME. For some reason there's this tv commercial that really makes me want to burn things. It's for TGIFridays. One man drinks another man's sauce, for some undetermined reason, to which the first man says, "Hey, that's the Kung Pao sauce for my srimp". That's right, he says "srimp". And it makes me want to murder people. I don't know why. It's the same reaction I've always had to gross language innaccuracies. Like in 5th grade, when there was a kid named Miles in my class, who used to say "That's mines". It's "MINE"! There's no fucking S. I dunno... maybe I've just got a lot of repressed rage, or I'm unbelievably anal-retentive (yes it DOES have a hyphen)...but I'm sure as shit glad I'm not French. I figure the French are already pissed off enough at stupid American tourists who go to France and bastardize their language with no abandon. The last thing they need is some pyschopath like me running around murdering everyone who forgets to drop a "t" or whatever other silly rules they have over there.

On funny things I saw on the subway the other night: One over-bulked body-builder doing pull-ups on the hand rails. For those who don't think this is a feat, let me point out that I have a hard enough time just standing up on the subway. It looked as though he did this a lot, as he had his sweat rag, to wipe himself down when he got a little too worked up. Standing next to him was a gay couple. That in and of itself is not funny. What WAS funny was that the two gentlemen looked like twin brothers. Literally. They were wearing identical outfits, identical haircuts, and had matching his and his eyebrow piercings. So it was weird when they started making out, since I literally thought they were twin brothers. Although, I guess, they coulda been. Also, I saw a guy and a girl do the "hora" in the subway terminal. So while it wasn't ON the subway, it was subway related. And it was me and Kate. So I didn't really SEE it. But it was funny. Late-night drunken ethnic dances are always a hit.

In the hurry-up and wait category: I have always enjoyed a good bout of food poisoning, followed directly by a rehearsal. Which is subsequently cancelled. But only after draggin yourself out of bed, showering the odors of, well... sickness off, and getting yourself to the rehearsal, only to THEN find out it's cancelled. yeah.

On Bad Movie Days: "Alien vs. Predator" has to be the 2nd worst movie I've seen in the last 3 weeks. It totally would've been number one, except that I happened upon the masterpiece known as "Totally Blonde", which has a story that probably would've been better had it have been written by a rheses monkey. It also has acting that probably would've been better had it been acted by chimps. And actually the lighting and sets and directing... OK... so it would've kicked ass as an all-monkey movie. But unfortunately it didn't. So it sucked. But I found myself watching "AVP" as the kids are calling it. And it sucked too. But just not as much. But it was close. Also, I may or may not have been watching a little Lifetime Network, and spotted a little flick called, "She's too Young" about a 14-year old girl who's parents find out that she and her friends are sexually active. Now the scene that I happened upon found the mother trying to schedule a parents meeting, where all the kids' parents could get together and talk about their slutty kids. One mother was objecting. But the line that I loved was she said she was handling the problem at home, by censoring movies and music. "Have you heard those rap lyrics? They're disgusting". So I figured the movie must be from, I dunno, 1987, back when that was like a legitimate parental thought. Yeah, it's from 2004. Wow. I dunno if it counts, because I didn't see more than just one scene, but holy crap is that a terrible movie.

Organum Triplum

So imagine you're me for a second... Now stop laughing at your jewfro... Right. Stop.... Thanks. Ok. So you're at a bar, and you're let's say, "blitzed". You somehow end up in a conversation with a very attractive young woman (I say woman instead of lady or girl, because she was 34). After about an hour of talking to her in the corner of the bar, you notice that your buddy's have made an exit. Thanks guys. But meanwhile, this girl and you are getting along famously. So being a reasonable person, and thinking that rather than try to sleep with this woman without really knowing her, getting her phone number might be a better way to go, you ask for her digits as she prepares to leave with all of her friends. And then, this lovely phsychologist lays it on you. "I would, but I have a boyfriend". Now, ordinarily, this would probably just be an easy way of saying, "ummm, you're pretty ugly, and I didn't really find any of your fart jokes funny." But what made this situation unique is that after telling you she has a boy, she proceeds to invite you to hang out with her at some concert you two had been talking about because she "thinks you're really funny and nice". Now would you A) Punch her in her face, B) Punch yourself in the face, or C) Weep like an abandoned child in a convienence store? My question of course is, if she's a pyschologist, don't you think, pyschologically speaking, she would know the pyschology of the situation? I mean, you talk to a guy at a bar for AN HOUR. Did she think I just wanted to make a new friend, and chose her because she had kind eyes? Probably, because girls are fucking idiots. I wonder how screwed up her patients are. I mean if she fucks with my head... and I didn't even pay her. Ok, so I offered, and maybe that turned her off... but seriously folks... I was hanging with a buddy of mine tonite. And I was hanging with a buddy's girlfriend. And girlfriend and buddy knew all about the olympic figure skating. Who's in, who's out, who's got strong triple sowcows. That's sort of shit. Now I know that girls like ice skating because it's "beautiful" or some shit like that. But why is my buddy watching? "There's nothing else on tv" is his response. I'll tell you what, dude... time to drink a beer and scratch yourself somewhere dark and smelly. Seriously, you're scaring me. Kings Play Chess On Fat Gorilla's Stomachs- for those of you who don't know what that is... it would be the order of classification of every living thing on the planet. Kingdom, Phylum, Class, Order, Family, Genus, Species. Why have I included something so utterly... well, educational? Because I'm pretty sure that reading my inane rants makes you dumber, so I'm trying to give a leg up where I can. Let's face it... most of my friends aren't the brightest stars in the sky to begin with. Yes, I'm talking about YOU.

What Really Grinds My Gears

When you think about it, the octatonic scale is a lot like tantric sex.


OK, so I like to look out my window when I practice. Yeah, it's something I've always done. So today I look out and see a dude in his bedroom. He's wearing plaid boxer shorts and a white tee-shirt. His tv is on. I don't think there's really anything unusual about it. Then he takes his shirt off. I'm still thinking there's nothing too crazy going down, he's probably just warm. I mean, it's cold outside, so the heat is probably up too high in his builidng. Then, his cigarette clad hand decides to remove his boxer shorts. At this point, I'm looking out the window only to behold a giant man-ass smashed against the window of the adjacent building. And THEN he begins to ummm.... "pleasure" himself. Yeah. Now I've heard of people doing weird shit in the bedroom. I mean, my friend "X" can't climax unless he/she calls me at the point of climax and reports that there are exactly two goats, one sheep and three yak/llamas in the room. But needing to be seen whilst whacking it... that's a bit much... So I closed my blinds, finished practicing, and went to the gym. When I got home, the shades on the dude's window were drawn, and the lights were on. So clearly he understands the concept of blinds, but mostly it's his application of that concept that's really lacking. It's like flushing the toilet and then taking a crap. Something just ain't quite right.

I'm not sure, maybe it's just that I don't know anyone anymore here, but I'm pretty sure everyone is weird except for me. I asked someone where the Eastman Theatre was, doing my best impression of an auditioner. No laughs, just kind directions. I guess the joke is a lot funnier if you know that I'm a student, or say, have ever seen me before.

By the way, "You're Jewish, so you must REALLY love Klezmer music" has to be the second dumbest thing anyone said to me this week. That's about as lucid a statement as, "You're Italian, so you must REALLY love accordian music." Number one, you ask? It's a toss up between "Sometimes you gotta whack it with the windows open, the lights on, your butt pressed against the window, and a lit cig in your hand, ya know?" and "The Eastman Theatre? You're standing right next to it... just go in those doors."

Dyadically Invariant

WOW. Ok, I don't really know how to say this without sounding like a total weiner, but here goes. So I was watching this "movie". It was the story of a man who breaks up with his girlfriend only to go through his week having as much intercourse with as many of his ex-girlfriends as he possibly can. The kicker is that after he has sex with each girl, he has a dream where he is getting married to each successive girl. If that isn't funny enough, the wedding march in the dream is played in minor, just to add to the "horror" of the scene. He wakes up screaming and sweating from each dream. Eventually realizes that he wants to marry his ex-girlfriend whom he just dumped, only to then run through his day finding that all of his other ex's have left town, and have been replaced in each scene by a stereotypical homosexual man. When he finally meets up with his one, true ex, she tells him she's getting married (oh the irony). Then he finally learns what an asshole he's been, and turns over a new leaf... by screwing the next girl he meets. Then in possibly the cruelest twist of fate EVER, she turns out to be the female version of him... laying out the rules of how he's going to be whipped while she dates other men. Now maybe it was that Matt and I spent a day watching Lifetime movies that got me in the mood for the unbelievably AWFUL, but all I can say is that this is far and away the BEST thing I've seen on TV in a LONG time. Way better than the Cosby Mysteries. Is it just me, or does anyone else out there think that THEY could write for TV? I mean... uhhh... there are SOOOOOO many channels now... and so much SHIT on. Speaking of which...

So I was watching Gidget. Now, when you're done laughing, I'll mention it was the movie, not the tv show. In any event, maybe it's because in my life I've been inundated with images of raw unbridled sexuality, and every modern girl who's supposedly"hot" is more skanked up than crack-addled prostitute on payday (see Oxford English Dictionary entry, "Hoochies"), but I found Sandra Dee unbelievably attractive. Now she's supposedely in high school, and looks like she's probably about 16. For those of you who don't know, she spends her summer hanging with some beach bumbs, in an attempt to lose her virginity. Add some singing, and a luau... Maybe I long for a time when girls would wear full pants-suits to the beach. Maybe I long for poodle-skirts and giving a girl my pin, so everyone knows that I own her- or at least my frat does. "She might be pint-sized, but she's quite a woman". All I can say is, which is of higher quality entertainment value?