Also, have you ever pondered the word stupid? Look at it. Stu-pid. It just looks funny.

Anyway, here’s a great example of what I’m talking about. Burger King has a new ad campaign:

In teaser adverts promoting its “Whopper Virgins” challenge, the fast food chain describes how it sought out farmers in rural Romania, Thai villagers and residents of Greenland’s icy tundra to compare its signature burger with arch rival McDonalds’.

…”If you want a real opinion about a burger, ask someone who doesn’t even have a word for burger,” states the site to a haunting theme of drums and pan pipes. “Watch the whopper virgins take their first bite.”

This is not only stupid, but gross. Fast food hamburgers are an acquired taste. In my early 20s, I was a vegetarian for about a year, in fact on a macrobiotic diet for a few months of that (don’t ask, but hey I felt FANTASTIC). The first time I tasted a hamburger after that, I almost threw up. Couldn’t take more than two bites without feeling horribly nauseated. Truly, it was repulsive. So I’d be really curious about how these remote villagers took to a freakin’ Whopper and Big Mac. Foul.

But it’s also stupid because, are you kidding me? They say it took “13 planes, two dog sleds and one helicopter” to pull this off, and if you watch the video, good Lord, these people are poor. Maybe with all those resources Burger King could have brought them something other than nasty-ass fast food burgers. Just sayin’.

Then I got to my favorite part of the article.

But critics have slammed the campaign as insulting and exploitative.

“It’s outrageous,” Sharon Akabas of the Institute of Human Nutrition at Columbia University, told the New York Daily News. “What’s next? Are we going to start taking guns out to some of these remote places and ask them which one they like better?”

Why, of course! That’s the logical next step: GUNS! Hamburgers, guns, what’s the diff? Probably ought to throw in some smallpox and AIDS while we’re at it, see which one they like better.

Genius #1: Yeah! It’s fucked up! You can shoot yourself and anyone else you want in Texas, and you won’t get in trouble!

Genius #2: Man, that’s messed up. Are you serious?

Genius #1: Totally serious, dude! People can have all the guns they want, no limit, and they can legally shoot whoever they want! I’m serious dude! Watch the news!

Genius #2: Fuuuuuck, man. That ain’t right. No wonder they have so much crime down here.

All together now, giant group sigh. There you go.

Just as I started laughing out loud and getting ready to yell THAT IS SUCH BULLSHIT!, the doors opened and chaos ensued, so I didn’t get my chance. It was very disappointing. I would have liked to instruct them on actual crime rates and the actual laws, which may have made their pointy little heads go all ’splody because reality is never as fun as brainwashed fantasies, huh kids?

So anyway, I want the internet to know that there are some really, really stupid people out there. Because I like to break news, and shock blog readers with ideas they never considered. Idiotic, tragically misinformed youths in a university setting? NO. WAY.

You know what happened: I got a face full of dust and debris. It was so bad I had to actually go wash my face to get it all off and out of my eyes.

You’d think I’d know better by now, as I “learned” the same lesson when I was 17. My best friend Cindy and I were sitting in a McDonald’s smoking, back when you could smoke in McDonald’s, and back when I was stupid enough to think smoking was a fabulous idea and that I’d never get addicted. DUMB. ASS.

Anyway, she dumped out the ashtray in the trash and brought it back. There was still some ash in it. I leaned over it and…oh yes I sure did…BLEW. I don’t think Cindy had ever laughed so hard in her life, and neither had the table full of boys 10 feet away whom we were trying to impress. I know how to drive men crazy, folks. Nothing says “sexy” like a face covered in cigarette ashes and an expression of shame and horror.

There have been other similar “incidents” since then, which I don’t care to discuss because I think I’ve already done a fine job telling the internet how graceful and charming I am. Wouldn’t want to rub it in.

The wedding will be small, family only. Rupert’s mom is arranging everything because she’s awesome, and also, she’s had a pure shit year for reasons you’re all familiar with (son called up for war then released but for a busted neck, husband in motorcycle accident then coma, etc) and finally, here is something to bring some joy. I couldn’t be happier about how happy she is. My parents are thrilled too because trust me, Rupert is a dream son-in-law. I think they’d like to legally adopt him, but then I’d be married to my brother so no.

I’m not going to blog about any details of my wedding. Just too personal and it gives me the creeps because I know for a fact that several people who hate me with fire read my blog constantly. I know this because they go on other sites and give detailed accounts of what a dumb bitch I am and about all the details of my latest “shenanigans.” So forgive me if I’m stingy with information about this. You understand. I wish I could punch those people in the nuts.

As for the move, HOLY SHIT. There is so much to do! I had no idea! All the paperwork and banking business and physicals and arranging this and that and just, GOD. It’s apparently a big dang deal, moving overseas.

Oh but what a thrill it is anyway! I am so excited, it’s embarrassing. Rupert’s in England as we speak, for the next two weeks, to get familiarized with company operations over there. They’re driving him all over the place, and this weekend he’ll be in the city we’re moving to (not London) and I can’t wait to hear what it’s like.

He called me yesterday and I was stunned - STUNNED I tell you - to learn that the weather is…wait for it…cold and rainy.

He also said they’re wayyy into dropping syllables. Gloucestershire? Easy there Americano. Do not pronounce HALF of that. Try “Glouster”. Also, the roads are tiny. We KNEW all this, don’t worry, we’re not going to get over there and blunder around like a couple of ‘tard ‘Murricans. It’s just interesting, how different things are. I dig it. It’s an adventure.

A lot of people have asked what I’ve decided to do with my dogs, and I still don’t know for sure. The thing is, I’ve been told by several dozen people, including the vet, that the flight would be pure torture hell for them, particularly Sunny because of her age and psyche. Vet even told me flat out she might not survive or at least might never be the same afterwards. Nothing to do with quarantine issues, I know that can be done here while they stay with someone. It’s the FLIGHT. It’s 18-24 hours in a crate surrounded by chaos and strangers. I’ve done a lot of research and talked to a lot of people who’ve done this before, and I don’t think I can put my dogs through it. But I am not prepared right now to start talking about who they might live with instead. I need time to process it; it’s like I’ve found out I have to put them both to sleep or something. Heartbreaking doesn’t even begin to cover it.

To make myself feel better, I do horrible things like make Sunny hold a Cat Fancy magazine.

Paper cats? Fuckin’ PAPER CATS? Are you kidding me? Bring me some made of flesh and blood, and maybe I won’t poop on you while you sleep tonight.

Malkin says the Black Friday phenomenon is insane, Morrissey calls it ironic, and the Anchoress thinks it has something to do with people not getting the right kind of love.

Well I say we can all save a lot of time and effort trying to analyze this issue and go straight to the heart of the matter: people are assholes.

Specifically, they’re self-absorbed, single-minded, greedy, thoughtless assholes. But the “asshole” part of that is the most important, and handily encapsulates all the other qualities. If you’re still unclear on what I’m trying to get across with this post, here:

I’m not saying you’re an asshole if you went shopping on Friday. I had to do so myself because that was the only weekday Rupert’s in town for the next month and we had to buy wedding rings.

But you might be an asshole if you were at any store before dawn waiting for the doors to open. Sorry, I just don’t get it. All that stress and drama just to get a few bucks off? Do the sales end at 8 a.m. or something?