Greetings Mouthketeers:

 

I’ve heard the news about the topic of this blog four times on different news outlets yesterday, and I don’t know about you, but by the third time the reporter told the story, I nearly fell asleep with boredom.

 

Apparently Henry Louis Gates, Jr., a Harvard professor, was arrested for disorderly conduct in his home.  Gates was returning from a trip to China and noticed some damage to his door.  Just as Gates and his driver were trying to push the door open, it seems as if a neighbor thought the house was being robbed, called the cops, and then after some heated exchange of words, Gates was arrested for disorderly conduct.  And then the case was dropped. 

 

Jeez.  Can someone give Gates a Xanax, and have him calm down?  I’m no expert and I certainly was not at the “crime scene,” but I can tell you this story happened to me . . . twice—except I didn’t lose my temper and provoke the cop, and then did not ask the Jewish maffia to pull out the anti-Semitic card. 

 

I was locked out of my house.  I set off the alarms.  I had the cops come.  I had them ask me for my license.  They checked me out.  They looked scary too.  (I looked like a bum.)  But honestly, if you step back and stop for a moment, instead of freaking out because someone is questioning you, Gates, THANK the frickin officer for looking out for your home, and realize these guys were making sure you lived there.  Why on Earth would cops create an unnecessary scene in Cambridge for God’s sake?  Cops are no angels at times, and we’ve all seen the horrific incidents caught on tape, but this ain’t one of them, trust me. 

 

Protection isn’t always a race issue, and I will be the first to tell you my Black friends are treated poorly at times.  But get this.  So am I.  I’m chunky, gay, I have a big mouth, and my patience runs thin.  And put those traits in a blender and press the “crush” button . . . and you get “volatility.”

 

The problem here is that when cops hear the alarms, etc., they are charged up, ready for the worse case scenario.  They have to put their guard up because who knows who is going to pop out on scene?  The other problem here is we are all charged up too—because we are victims of hype, TV, tabloid news and just plain gossip and misinformation.  We are all eating way too much sugar and listening to way too many reports on killing, kidnapping and Michael Jackson breaking news to remember how to think clearly in stressful times.  We all know Gates traveled a gazillion miles on a plane and was tired and irritable.  How do you spell, “b-u-r-n-e-d out and r-e-a-d-y for bed??” 

 

Again, I feel for the Professor, but I don’t wanna hear another word about this story.  Please Gates, enjoy the rest of your summer and move onward and upward.

 

Did I tell you I was neighbors with Cicely Tyson and Miles Davis?  He used to leave his empty beer cans stacked up by the incinerator.  Whatever.

 

Peace.

 

The Mouthinator. 

The Mouthinator News

 

Greetings Mouthketeers:

 

Since you last read one of my entries, news guru Walter Cronkite, and Angela’s Ashes author Frank McCourt passed away . . . but what do I blog about?  The fact Paula Abdul has not been invited onto the next season of American Idol to date, according to her manager, David Sonenberg.

 

You got that right.  Says the manager, “Very sadly, it does not appear that she’s going to be back on ‘Idol . . . and she’s not a happy camper . . . “

 

Ya know, I’m not a very happy camper at the moment either.  With a cholesterol level at 280 and a doctor who is practically feeding me Lipitor through an intravenous tube, do I have more fish to fry than the fishy drama surrounding the Big Ab?

 

Paula Abdul not judging a group of amateurs?  Yawn.  Who Cares?  Go Home.  See ya.   

 

Ryan Secrest, the “host” of the show, apparently signed a 45 Million Dollar deal, and when he heard the Abdul might be abducted from AI, tweeted to her to show his support.  Says RS, “Love u PA can’t imagine doing idol without u!!”

 

Ryan, what tremendous insight you have, and it’s clear how you command the big bucks; however, the last time I checked, a “PA” didn’t stand for Paula Abdul, which furthers my conviction Ryan Secrest is truly a gay man stuffed inside the likes of a game show host.

 

What really irks me here is at the time of this writing, those facacta Bush twins are overloading the google.com/trends list—clogging up the Top 25 most blogged about people in the universe! 

 

What Google trend ranking is PA at the time of this writing?  Nowhere to be seen and if she is, her story is way beyond the top 100. 

 

My point is that celebs who judge talent, managers who manage them and news outlets such as CNN should really stop reading their own publicity and start reporting on something meaningful for us all . . . thus trying to make a difference in the world.  Perhaps CNN will create a new Heroes award for celebs who make a difference?

 

Straight up, now tell me:  Will Paula Abdul make that list? 

 

Where is the Farrah Fawcett coverage when you really need it?

 

Peace.

 

The Mouthinator. 

The Mouthinator entertainment

 

 

Greetings Mouthketeers:

 

I’m sure you’ve heard and/or seen some of the coverage on the Supreme Court confirmation hearings of Judge Sonia Sotomayor?  It just kills me that the news over the division between the Democrats and Republicans, and how each party grills the Judge, continue to overshadow the actual hearings to determine whether or not this woman should be voted as the next Supreme Court Justice.

 

This rant is not about whether the Judge is qualified; rather, this rant brings forth the reason why the political system—as seen through the eyes of the media—must stop once and for all.

 

Why?

 

We are about to elect a person who will have important power, and perhaps Judge Sotomayor is the right person for the job; however, will the politicians and the media stop this crap already and ask the necessary questions to see if she’s kewl enuf for the job rather than speak in a code and beat around the bush?

 

Bush?  Familiar.  Hmmmm. 

 

Let’s quickly change course here. 

 

Why on Earth is Rush Limbaugh and Sarah Palin known as the poster boy and grrrrl of the Republican Party?  I voted for Regan once and Bush Senior once; however, I proudly voted for Obama.  I would neeeeeveeeer vote for Limbaugh or Palin, the two Bobbsey babes.  I vote for whom I feel will do the right job at the right time.  You got that right!

 

The media is stirring up such agita over Pal-Li, who—in case you didn’t know—aren’t doing diddley squat in the political arena except listen to themselves speak and talk about how they’re fighting against the liberal media.  Boring, boring.  Yawn, yawn.  I hear a new AM station with Palin as host coming on!

 

Let’s change course again. 

 

We will only be a better country when we toss the media ‘tude aside and simply vote for people on what they stand for and not which side of the aisle they sit on.  I don’t want to pussyfoot around the subject of politics any longer, do you?  If I wanna ask the Judge her views on abortion, I want to ask the question in plain English.  Will I ask the question in French if I’m a Democrat and ask the question in German if I’m Republican?  It’s all Greek to me. 

 

If Obama continues to do a so-much-better job than his predecessor (Am I having a senior moment?  I can’t remember who was the president before Obama??), and does a great job after his first term, I’ll vote for Obama again.  However, if he starts to believe his own publicity, I’ll vote for someone else and it might not be Hillary Clinton, if you get my drift.

 

Media, shaddup already and get back to what you really do best—and that is to keep beating a story such as the death of Michael Jackson—to an even deeper death than it already is.

 

Wasn’t Al Franken a funny comedian?

 

Peace.

 

The Mouthinator. 

 

The Mouthinator Politics

Greetings Mouthketeers:

 

This morning’s blog entry is a rant.

 

I don’t know about you, but I’m absolutely pissed this country cannot get it together when it comes to offering people affordable healthcare.  Many work their asses off and they still can’t afford the hundreds of dollars a month to protect themselves and their families. If that’s the case why are we all working so hard?  If we don’t have the means to take care of ourselves in times of peril, what are we doing with our money, and why isn’t healthcare more affordable so that it’s not sucking our tills dry?

 

In my opinion, healthcare should be free.  The subject should not be drawn out in government—year-after-year.   We are living in 2009 already, friends.  We should not be wondering if we faint on the street whether or not we will end up strapped onto a gurney in the hallways of some stank hospital with a dirty bathroom, right?  

 

I’ve gone to some gyms that were a hell of a lot cleaner than some of the hospitals I have visited.  If a gym can offer perks (towels, massages, trainers) with a membership, a country can offer healthcare with a US birth certificate.  It should be a perk for being a United States citizen.  

 

When someone is in pain, they should be treated as if they are kings and queens, not as if they’re Louise Fletcher’s patients in “One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest.”  Every doctor should take a course in compassion.   Some Veterinarians are nicer to animals than some doctors are to their patients.  What’s up with that?

 

It is absolutely disgraceful that a nursing home charges thousands of dollars a day for care—putting decent people in debt, kidnapping their assets simply to pay outrageous costs to people who don’t want to work there anyway.  There should be no such thing as “long term health insurance.”  We should always have care—whether we break our legs or have colon cancer—we should always have the care we need.   There should be no such thing as reading small print in an insurance policy. If you go to the grocery store and can buy a bag a groceries for face value than you can buy a health insurance policy. Buying a simple plan insurance policy should be as simple as buying milk, eggs and cheese down at the neighborhood deli.  

 

If the government can give billions of dollars to companies who build ugly cars, for God’s sake they can print some more dough for health insurance.  And while they’re at it, any doctor who shows a bit of attitude or dismisses patients as if they are pieces of meat at a supermarket should be fired.  And that also goes for doctors who prescribe drugs to people knowing that these medications will kill them.  All I can say here is . . . Michael Jackson.   Shamon already.  Fire the butts off of these dudes, throw them in jail and take away there medical licenses.

 

Here’s how we will all get free healthcare.  Give big companies a juicy tax break for subsidizing healthcare programs.  Forget the potholes in the street.  We might get a few hemorrhoids bouncing over a hole or two on the highway, but we’ll live.    Pull some tax money that might go to fixing the roads and transfer it to medicine and care.   Towns should cancel their budgets for fireworks displays on the 4^th of July, in favor of using those funds for community healthcare programs.  Forget the parades—put it in the kitty for healthcare.  Forget the girl scout cookie sales—put the money in the kitty for healthcare.Forget giving to the museum—put the money in the kitty for healthcare.

 

Obviously I’m not that stupid to realize this is a complicated subject.  But it’s time to fix the healthcare system so we can seriously focus on the environment.

 

Is “General Hospital” still on TV?  Stay well.

 

Peace.

 

The Mouthinator

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Mouthinator Health, News, Politics

 

Greetings Mouthketeers:

 

Yesterday I was glued to the computer as if it was my flat screen at home—watching the Michael Jackson Memorial.

 

And then it hit me:  There were two Michael Jacksons. 

 

One was the performer who really changed the face of pop music in his day, and the other was the man living in the dark and sleeping with little boys.

 

Yesterday was the celebration of the pop side—the one persona Michael Jackson so brilliantly created.  Call yourself the King of Pop or the Man in the Mirror—who are we to stop you?  Even though you basically imitated Brown, Ella, Sinatra, Astaire to name a few, you actually did a great job at it.  If you look closely at your music videos, you recycled the same dance moves over and over again, but I do believe before you turned into a weirdo, Michael Jackson, you indeed did change the world through the universal language of music. 

 

And then, during the Memorial, they wheeled in Michael Jackson’s casket.

 

Out of the blue a fan of this blog emailed me her disgust that Jackson’s casket was wheeled into the Staples Center.  But I didn’t think it was disgusting. Other than stealing, killing and child molesting, I don’t think it’s our place to judge what other people do with their lives or their deaths, and how they choose to party, even if the party is going to be their last.

 

If a pregnant woman’s water breaks in a cab, she’d have the baby in the back seat.  If you and your fiancé are extreme sports fanatics, you might say your vows while jumping out of a plane.  If you have millions of fans, you should have your memorial in a center, and if you have a gazillion dollars, for God’s sake buy a honkin’ gold casket with three speeds and parade it around—up and down the isles if you want.  Go for it.  If I recall, years ago we all watched while some head of state of India was cremated on-camera, and to me, that was creepy.  After that scene, what’s wrong with a casket being paraded around on a gurney?  

 

I had the pleasure of meeting Brooke Shields twice, and the pleasure of representing Reverend Berneice King once—both of whom spoke at Michael’s Memorial Service.  They swore by Michael, and his genuine love for children and humanity.  And I believe he truly cared about youngsters; however, I don’t know what Brooke or Berneice do behind closed doors, and I don’t pretend to know what Michael did behind them either.   Now that Michael Jackson has passed, the judgment stops at the gates of heaven because there’s one spirit he will have to answer to, and realistically it is not his fans or his skeptics who tuned in to say goodbye.

 

Hey, what’s up with Joe Jackson chomping on some stanky piece of gum during his son’s memorial service?  Spit it out, Joe—you selfish, rude and disgusting man; and please do not stick it under the seat when you leave the building.   

 

Peace.

 

The Mouthinator.    

 

 

 

 

The Mouthinator entertainment

 

 

Greetings Mouthketeers:

 

So I was flipping burgers on the Barbie when I heard Sarah Palin was resigning from her gig in Alaska—effective July 25^th.  And then I took a flip fit!  Excuse me, Governeur; my assistants give me more notice when they leave, so why on Earth are you quitting mid term?

 

This woman is playin’ her state, and playin’ the nation. Is she gonna run for some sort of president?  On what platform?  B-o-r-i-n-g. 

 

Imagine if my clients paid me, and all of a sudden I decided to stop working?  Imagine if a doctor was operating on a patient, didn’t have a clue how to perform the procedure, and walked out in the middle of the operation?  With all the people out of work these days, there’s no room for unprofessional, inexperienced people; so why does America—or a certain slice of American culture—care about Sarah?  If your answer is, “The religious right cares,” then I would say, “Where is your work ethic, Ms. Palin?”

 

In a world where we still have global warming and are totally stumped why North Korea is looking to test a long-range missile towards Hawaii, why do we need to waste another breath on the Governor of Alaska?  Is she running away because she thinks the missile is pointing towards Wasilla? 

 

If Ms. Palin thinks she’s leaving her position in order to use her soon-to-be written book project as a license to tour across the country and campaign for the presidency, I think that’s a lousy idea.  If Ms. Palin thinks she’s leaving her post because she’s afraid a deep, dark secret is going to leak out, I’d say run, Sarah—run, not walk away because if you stay and you’ve got something hot to hide, you’re gonna melt the ice right off of those big, fat glaciers in your backyard.  

 

Hey, whatever happened to Oksana Baiul? 

 

Peace. 

 

The Mouthinator. 

The Mouthinator Politics

 

 

Greetings Mouthketeers:

 

Some fans get super excited knowing they’re near the remains of The King of Pop.  Some governors get a hard-on thinking about their soulmates—one of which is a chick named Maria, somewhere in Buenos Aires.  Some girls get wet just thinking about the Jonas Brothers . . . and I am ready to dance naked in the streets with joy after discovering self scanners at the Super Stop & Shop.

 

You got that right!  I had an epiphany—an “aha” moment—after I saw these contraptions at the market the other day.  Why didn’t anyone think of this sooner? 

 

So here’s what happens: 

 

You go in the supermarket and they hand you a scan gun.  As you shop, you shoot this gun at the barcode (somewhere on the label of the item), and after your gun records the item, you pack your food in bags as you shop—rather than waiting on those long winded checkout lines.  Once you are in line, you hand the cashier the scan gun, she reads your total items for purchase, you give her payment, and you are out the door and onto the next chore! J

 

Here’s another amazing pet discovery:  For all of you dog and cat lovers, I recently discovered a holistic product called PetzLife Oral Care Gel.  What’s this?  It keeps you from paying a quadrillion dollars on a teeth cleaning for Fido and Fifi.  It’s an all-natural gel that acts as if it’s a doggy and pussy toothbrush, breath freshener and tarter control mouthwash all wrapped up into one . . . and your pet’s teeth becomes so white you’d swear you sent him/her to Brite Smile for teeth whitening!

 

Here’s an invention I wish someone would invent already:  For those of you who live in the burbs and use mulch, wouldn’t it be great if there was a “mulch spray refresher,” which would be an all-natural product you could sprinkle on your flower beds to bring luster back to the mulch you just spent a fortune on a month ago?  I know this sounds b-o-r-i-n-g to some, but anyone who can invent this product will end up being a gazillionaire and take me to dinner.

 

In any event, enjoy the July 4^th celebrations; and remember, life is about living, and reinventing.

 

What the hell happened to new and improved Alanis Morissette?   

 

 

Peace.

 

The Mouthinator.

 

The Mouthinator entertainment

 

Greetings Mouthketeers:

Nothing angers me more than people who use the race card to make a point—especially when the point is much bigger than race. And that’s precisely the issue I raise when talking about the continuing tragic saga of the death of Michael Jackson.

 

As predicted (in a previous blog), the media gave Michael Jackson fifteen more minutes of fame, and then played out his death as if it was a murder mystery, complete with Michael’s costumes, Michael’s music, and Michael’s legal issues and money troubles.   All that showbiz is backed up with videos, b-roll footage and a family cast of characters only equal to those who star in 007 movies.

And then there was Al Sharpton, Jamie Foxx, Usher, Spike Lee—you name it—Hollywood was out en force to bring Michael Jackson’s legacy back to Black.  God damn it. Where is President Obama when you need him? I thought when Obama was elected the shenanigans of using the race card unnecessarily was ovah?

 

What the hell am I talking about?

 

During a recent BET award show, many of the celebrities attending actually had the nerve to claim Michael Jackson as their African-American hero.  Wha?  Uh, excuse me, Black America! Michael just moon walked in purgatory over that comment! The last time I checked out Michael Jackson, he looked more as if he was a late 60s version of Cher, (an ultra thin waif with pale white skin and straight black hair dotted with sequins throughout), not James Brown—if you get my drift. Michael Jackson’s skin and hair transformation compared to that of a disgruntled child who lived on the east coast with his parents, only to move 3000 miles away—as far as he could go—as soon as he could move away to college. If young Michael was west coast, older Michael was the the Persian Gulf island of Bahrain.

 

Michael Jackson worked hard to become a white woman. And so what? Who cares? It worked for him, and kept the mystery going. Why go on and on about it? And why play that really tiresome race entitlement thing again, Hollywood? B-o-r-i-n-g.

 

There is no doubt Michael Jackson changed music and pop history. There is no doubt Michael Jackson released music that changed our lives. But in order to figure out what was going in Michael Jackson’s head, for God’s sake, turn down the backtracks, read his lyrics . . . and look at the photos.

 

Actions speak louder than words.

 

Suzanne de Passe: Thank you for discovering the Jackson 5.

 

Peace.

 

The Mouthinator.

 

The Mouthinator entertainment

Greetings Mouthketeers:

As most of you have heard, Michael Jackson, the self-proclaimed “King of Pop,” died yesterday of an apparent cardiac arrest. Although the first thing that ‘pops’ into my mind about this man surrounds the accusation he was a pedophile, (or at least convicted “in a court of public opinion”); now I can issue a sigh of relief knowing that a troubled person is not going to be near children any longer.

And it took death to make that happen.

No child should sleep in a grown man’s bed . . . on the premise they are friends. Are you kidding? Puhleese. All the “Thriller” albums in the world will not stop me from forgetting Michael Jackson abused young children for his own pleasure.

I’ve seen all those interviews and heard all of Michael Jackson’s arguments throughout the years, and the guy was definitely guilty because he spent a lot of time and money on hiring publicists, trying to turn his tarnished image around. If you’re not guilty you don’t spend money on crisis managers, and you don’t run away and move to another country.

When I had the pleasure of repping investigative reporter, Diane Dimond, with her book, BE CAREFUL WHO YOU LOVE, it was clear from Ms. Dimond’s research, this man was a dangerous whacko with a deep, dark secret he did not want any adult to know.  What did he do?  Turn the music up even louder so the masses could not hear the pain coming from those young boys.

Yes, friends. Even when you die, your history will override your passing; and you’ll still be known for how you lived, and how you treated others. Because our society thrives on the negative, there might be a brief honeymoon period right after you die; but then people will start talking.   Be careful who you love.  Be thoughtful as to how you live.

As you know from a previous blog posting, I met Michael when he was a kid—when he seemed normal—churning out those amazing songs many of us have used to define a moment in our own lives. What disturbs me most of all about Mr. Jackson’s death, is he and I were a few months apart in age, and with his passing,  it’s now clear to me  I’m entering a time when my generation will soon be dropping like flies.

Michael Jackson: The King of Pop has stopped. Goodbye, and thanks for a few great tunes.  Why did you abuse those innocent children?  Perhaps your own children, (Michael Joseph Jackson, Jr.; Paris Michael Katherine Jackson and Prince “Blanket” Michael Jackson II), may now be unmasked and live in harmony with the real world.

Isn’t it a bummer Mr. Jackson’s death has out-scooped the passing of Farrah Fawcett?  Rewind the tape, Farrah . . . and give us another fifteen minutes.

Peace.

The Mouthinator.

The Mouthinator entertainment

Dear Mouthketeers:

Farrah Fawcett has passed away at the age of 62. May her big, beautiful locks of hair follow her to Heaven.

Yes, we will always remember her for her acting roles: but it was also amazing to watch her try and find a cure for her cancer. (I’m not sure it was amazing to see Ryan O’Neal follow her; however, I’m sad for him . . . and for their son.)

May she rest in peace, and may the media stop treating this story as if it’s tabloid fodder.

Doesn’t Jacqueline Smith look great these days?  Hang in there, grrrrl.

Peace.

The Mouthinator.

The Mouthinator entertainment