The Grouchy Editor

Book me on a flight, pronto, to the recently discovered, Earthlike planet with a temperature of — heavens be praised! — 72 degrees.  A bonus:  no TV on this planet, hence no more Republican debates.

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I’m tired of hearing from that New Jersey whale, Chris Christie.  He is much too fat to be president.  Christie is too bloated to be an elected official, period.  Fat people sweat like pigs, and their odor offends me.

Do those comments sound cruel and bigoted?  Good, because they are meant to be.  I am a smoker, and I hear that kind of crap every day.  Because I am expected to take it, I will also dish it.  Fatso.

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Fans in St. Louis are weeping over the loss of their beloved baseball hero, Albert Pujols (above).  Tough titty.  I sneer at you fans.  Serves you right, suckers.

Pujols, who bolted to California for $250 million, was demonstrating loyalty — to Albert Pujols.  Sports organizations like the St. Louis Cardinals love to preach “fan loyalty.”  But loyalty to what, Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous?  It’s always a one-sided relationship with clubs and players on one side, fans on the other.  And fans are the ones who get dumped.

We have the same issue here in Minnesota, where a spoiled brat named Joe Mauer (below) plays when he wants to (not often) and pouts to the media whenever anyone dares question what he’s done to justify his budget-busting salary.

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“The 14-year sentence is so excessive,” griped MSNBC’s Joe Scarborough, lamenting the prison sentence handed to former Illinois Gov. Rod Blagojevich.  Boo hoo hoo.  The problem with our legal system is that white-collar crooks like Blago routinely escape with light sentences, or no sentences, while small-timers get screwed.  It’s heartening to see the mighty fall — if only on occasion.

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The film community is atwitter because New Yorker critic David Denby violated an unwritten rule when he published an early review of The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo — after he agreed not to do so.  Tattoo producer Scott Rudin called Denby’s action “lousy and immoral” and vowed to ban the critic from future screenings.  Denby responded with whines and lame excuses.  Shut up, Denby.

As for the review itself, I’m a bit surprised by Denby’s praise for star Rooney Mara.  After watching Sweden’s Noomi Rapace (above) in the original film, I can’t imagine any other actress portraying Lisbeth Salander.

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Playboy’s photo spread of Lindsay Lohan has leaked to the Internet.  I figured I should do my part in sharing this big news with the world.  Sure, the pictures look artistic, but the problem with celebrity Playboy spreads like this one is that, once the stylists, art directors, and airbrushers finish their work, the actual woman is barely recognizable.  Well … her fanny looks real enough.

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I liked Joy Behar’s show and I’m sorry to see it go, even though, as a straight male, I don’t believe I was ever in its target audience.  (Watching it,  at times I felt like odd man out at a Girls & Gays happy hour.)

My problem with the show was the fact that Behar herself was rarely on it, resulting in an endless stream of guest hosts or repeat episodes.  But Behar’s guests, often fringe celebrities we had not seen in a long time, were a refreshing change from the usual gang of idiots found on other talk shows.

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Newlywed life doesn’t seem to have done much for Daniel Craig’s disposition.  Earlier this year, the temperamental James Bond star complained to Entertainment Weekly that promoting his movies was not his thing:  “I can’t do tits-and-teeth stuff,” Craig sniffed.  (See the Weekly Review, July 31.)

Now Craig has leaped onto the anti-Kardashian bandwagon, grousing to the British GQ, “You see that [Kardashians on TV] and you think, ‘What, you mean all I have to do is behave like a fucking idiot on television and then you’ll pay me millions?’”  If The Grouch ever retires, Craig is more than welcome to assume the reins of this Web site.

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Roger Ebert informed readers of his blog that “Most people have bladders the size of oil drums, but I usually have to pee at least once during a movie.”

Am I the only one who thinks that this is disturbing news coming from a film critic?

Assuming that the average bathroom break takes at least five minutes, then how many crucial scenes and plot developments must Ebert have missed during the course of his career?

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Bill O’Reilly and Newt Gingrich discussed immigration and “sanctuary cities.”  That got me to thinking (admittedly, always a dangerous thing):  Why don’t we establish sanctuary cities for smokers?  As the United States, oddly, tilts more and more toward legalizing marijuana, it continues to ostracize cigarette smokers.  Hey, just give us a place of our own, perhaps Las Vegas, and we’ll leave the rest of you alone.

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News outlets have been reporting on a string of Amish “beard cuttings” in Ohio.  Somehow, reporters covered this story with a straight face (and, in general, a clean-shaven face).

In related news, who says you have to be Amish in order to grow a virile-looking, distinguished and sexy beard?  See below.

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The Five celebrated Thanksgiving and its 100th episode.  The Fox News gang, except for token liberal Bob Beckel, took the opportunity to inform viewers that they “should be thankful for the one percent.”  I agree.  The one percent is taxed much too much.  I believe we should absolve the one percent from paying any taxes, and let everyone else pay for things.  It follows, logically, that we will then have more jobs.  Besides, the one percent got rich without any help from the rest of us — correct?

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Newt Gingrich thinks it’s a swell idea to turn our nation’s schoolchildren into janitors.  This is what Newt and other rich conservatives mean when they describe themselves as “job creators.”

Not sure how long it’s been since Newt lifted a finger to do any sort of manual labor.  Hold on … Newt is doing some heavy lifting in the picture below.

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The California woman who pepper-sprayed fellow shoppers on “Black Friday” chose the wrong target.  She should have zapped the store’s owners. 

I learned that lesson last year when I stood in line in sub-zero temperatures, expecting to score a big-screen TV at Target, but then discovered that the store was pulling a bait-and-switch:  Less than five minutes after opening its doors, Target “sold out” of the TV I was looking for.

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I surfed over to The Huffington Post and was startled by this headline:

Goodness, that Justin Bieber kid had a busy year, didn’t he?

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Actor Nicolas Cage must have the most remarkable and clever publicity team in Hollywood.  In September, we learned that the colorful movie star is in reality some sort of vampire, having posed for a Civil War-era tintype in 1870 (below).  Yesterday, we discovered that Cage is featured on the cover of a Serbian biology textbook (above).

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“If you love someone, you forget what they look like.”  — Joy Behar reacting to the ad pictured above, which plugs a Web site for married cheaters.

I don’t know, Joy.  I appreciate the sentiment, but I think I’d have a hard time forgetting the appearance of this little honey.

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I don’t understand how Elisabeth Hasselbeck became a celebrity.  I remember her, vaguely, from her tenure on Survivor, but only because she pranced around in a bikini.  I guess that she had balls for confronting arch-enemy Bill Maher this week on The View, but she didn’t exactly advance her cause — assuming she has one.

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I’m just as pissed as anyone else about the mess at Penn State, but it does make me wonder — whatever happened to innocent until proven guilty?  Has there ever been such a collective rush to judgment?

Possibly worst of all is HLN resident hothead Mike Galanos.  After playing the now-infamous interview in which Bob Costas asked Jerry Sandusky if he, Sandusky, is a pedophile, Galanos barked to viewers, “That was not a yes or no answer!” Granted, Sandusky hemmed and hawed in his reply, but he clearly said “no.”

God help any criminal defendant if Galanos ever lands on the jury.

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                      Haldeman                                                            Williams

A theory:  The “masters of the universe” on Wall Street and in the business world — like Freddie Mac’s Charles Haldeman and Fannie Mae’s Mike Williams, above — get away with screwing taxpayers and stockholders in large part because they look so … ordinary.

These guys invariably have bland public personalities and John Doe faces.  Hell, even their names are dull.  They remind everyone of the kindly ushers at a Lutheran church.  No one really notices them, which is precisely how they like it as they pick our pockets.

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Does anyone else recall Bradley Cooper, People magazine’s “Sexiest Man Alive,” from his man-on-man sex scene in Wet Hot American Summer?   Cooper (I know you want the details) assumes the “female position” in his auspicious motion picture debut.

Mel Gibson, some of us miss you.

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Speaking of men kissing men … the Vatican used its clout to get clothing retailer Benetton to stop using a doctored picture of Pope Benedict XVI kissing al-Azhar Sheikh Ahmed al-Tayyeb.  OK, Vatican, you can stop Benetton but you can’t stop all of us.  I will gladly post anything that belittles this Pope, because this Pope shields child molesters.

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Hard to say who had a tougher week:  Joe Paterno, who got fired and learned that he has cancer on the same day, or Robert Wagner, whom the police say is not a suspect in the re-opened Natalie Wood case, but whom everyone thinks is a suspect in the re-opened Natalie Wood case.

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And finally, as a long-suffering Minnesota Vikings fan, I think I might have found a soul-mate:

Click Here

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“Joe Paterno is Penn State!”  Or so we kept hearing from football fans distraught over the elderly coach’s firing.  I guess that means that Penn State is composed of clueless assholes.  Guess what, Penn State fans?  The vast majority of Americans don’t give a damn about you or your screwed-up school.  But we do take an interest in child molestation and massive cover-ups.

Penn State is playing a game today to begin the “healing process.” Playing the game to “honor the victims.”  What a load of horse manure.  This school needs to be punished before it can begin its “healing process,” and cancellation of its season would be a good start.

Looking at the bigger picture … outside of the Mafia and the Catholic Church, is there any institution more corrupt than college athletics?

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Sadly, my love affair with The Huffington Post seems to be over.  If I say something that she doesn’t like — nothing threatening or obscene, mind you; just things that she does not like — she censors me, apparently.  Not good for a Web site that supposedly champions free speech.

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I guess I was spoiled by the Casey Anthony and O.J. trials, but I’m sorry, this Conrad Murray business was as dull as dishwater.  Things perked up a bit when Murray’s stripper girlfriends (including the lovely lady pictured above) took center stage, but that was as exciting as things got.

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We had the first-ever nationwide test of the emergency broadcast system on Wednesday.  I am noticing more and more of these “tests” during my nocturnal TV vigils.  Should we be concerned about this?  Just curious ….

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I swear, Obama is at his most entertaining when he doesn’t realize he’s being recorded.  First, it was the “clinging to guns or religion” fiasco, now it’s this dig at Israeli Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu:

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I watched a tornado video on the news.  Once upon a time, tornado footage on TV was a pretty big deal.  But in this age of cell-phone cameras, twister videos have sadly gone the way of NASA rocket launches — no longer very special.  On the other hand, that tornado in The Wizard of Oz never gets old, does it?

© 2010-2026 grouchyeditor.com (text only)

All Thumbs Edition 

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Entertainment Weekly — This magazine is like a good-looking woman with a flatulence problem.  Should you dump her, or try your damndest to overlook the gas?  EW is an exasperating mix of sharp, don’t-miss-them reviews and industry bullshit.  Readers have to wade through pages of show-business propaganda, glorified press releases, and other crap to get to the good stuff.  My advice:  Skip the first half of the magazine and go straight to the back, where they keep the reviews.

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What is it with Chris Matthews and his obsession with all things Kennedy?  The MSNBC host never misses an opportunity to gush about JFK, and now he’s written a book about his “fighting prince” and is making the media rounds, spitting on microphones and proclaiming his love for a man who — from what I can tell — ranks solidly “mediocre” on the scale of effective presidents.

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Bob Schieffer — who knew you were such a holier-than-thou, nanny-state-lovin’ nag?  I am referring to your chastisement of Herman Cain and his Internet “smoking” ad.  Last time I checked, smokers are citizens and smokers vote.  If I want your opinion, Bob, I’ll … never mind; I don’t want your opinion.

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Once upon a time, I was a movie geek in love with Rotten Tomatoes and Netflix.  Alas, Netflix succumbed to greed and Rotten Tomatoes grew indifferent to our relationship.  And so I found …

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… a new girlfriend, The Huffington Post.  She is fresh and exciting, but does have a tendency toward prickliness.  Certain topics are best avoided in her presence.  Thus far, she doesn’t seem to mind my comments about tumors and planets:

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Rachel Maddow points out that, so far, Herman Cain has A) quoted Pokémon during a Republican debate; B) issued an economic plan based on the video game SimCity; C) appealed to the nation’s smokers in an Internet ad; and D) launched into impromptu songs during his speeches.

Maddow suspects that Cain’s campaign might in fact be an elaborate practical joke he’s pulling on all of us, more performance art than presidential politics.  I think she might be onto something.  Just look at Herman’s smile in the picture above.  Would you buy a used car from this guy? 

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God help me, but I am happy to see these two knuckleheads back on MTV.

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Creepiest thing about the Herman Cain “smoking” ad?  Not the smoker, Cain chief of staff Mark Block (above), but rather the ominous, cat-that-ate-the-canary grin on Cain’s face at the commercial fadeout.

And thanks, Wolf Blitzer, for sharing your opinion that an ad featuring smoking must be “idiotic.”  So is your beard.

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Watching Bill O’Reilly and Barbara Walters — both of them immensely wealthy — debate the motives of Occupy Wall Street protesters ranked pretty high on my Vomit Meter.

Of the two, Walters was worse because she claimed to actually understand the angry phenomenon.  At least O’Reilly didn’t hide his confusion.  Walters was on The O’Reilly Factor to promote something that comes more naturally to her:  a TV special in which she brown-noses billionaires.  Now those are people she can understand.

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“We are 50 million seniors who earned our benefits.”

Not so fast, Grandpa.  According to news reports, most seniors rake in much more in benefits than they paid for by the time they go to that great-big ice-cream social in the sky.  We are all of us in trouble here, so older people had better think twice before they join the rich as the only Americans who don’t seem to believe in “shared sacrifice.”

© 2010-2026 grouchyeditor.com (text only)

 Wild Kingdom

I was watching Cujo on AMC, and ads for the SPCA kept interrupting the movie, with Sarah McLachlan imploring viewers, “Will you be an angel for a helpless animal?”

I repeat:  This was during a screening of Cujo.  You know, the story about a big dog with rabies that kills everyone?  This dog:

I don’t know, AMC.  Do you think Cujo viewers were likely in the mood to rescue helpless animals?

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“Do you want a moat with alligators?”

That was a question MSNBC’s Martin Bashir put to Arizona Sheriff Joe Arpaio during a discussion about the Mexican border.  I wasn’t interested in moats with alligators, so I flipped the channel to Fox News, where Shepard Smith announced that dozens of tigers, grizzly bears, lions and monkeys were running loose in Ohio.

I flipped back to AMC, but the movie about a rabid dog was no longer playing.

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The best reason to vote for Obama in 2012:

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Sorry, but when you go onstage looking like this, you are going to get the snide “fat” comments.

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OK, so I’m a little late to the party, but I am getting hooked on the History channel’s reality show, Pawn Stars.  The series has a winning formula:  Customers bring in their junk — a lot of it fascinating, some of it valuable — and it’s evaluated by Las Vegas pawn store employees Rick, Corey, Richard, and “Chumlee,” all of whom exhibit folksy charm.

Just one question:  Why aren’t there more female customers at the Gold & Silver Pawn Shop?

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This is how my dictionary defines “classic” —

I keep seeing the word “classic” used to describe movies and TV shows that are more than, oh, roughly ten years old.  Last week, I read that Hollywood is producing remakes of the “classic” 1980s movies The Thing and Footloose.  Entertaining movies, certainly, but classics?

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Great news from CBS:

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In promos for the new CNN show Outfront, host Erin Burnett waxes nostalgic about “growing up in a small town.”  Yeah, right, like she is just one of “the folks.”  Burnett’s actual background?  She grew up as the daughter of a corporate attorney and then enrolled at Williams College, an elite private school.  In other words, Burnett is just the latest in a string of sexy rich girls riding the Barbie Doll bandwagon of cable news.

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The creators of TV ads must spend hours brainstorming ideas on how to produce the most grating, nausea-inducing means of assaulting viewers.   That’s the only theory I can come up with to explain this monstrosity from Goodwill.  Click here, if you dare.

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Rapper Ice-T told Jimmy Fallon that anybody can write a book.  “Sure you could write a book,” the literary genius said.  “It’s not that hard.  I mean, what you do is, you get with a co-writer that teaches you how to actually write books.”

Ice-T and his equally brainy wife, Coco (who also “wrote” a book), join Snooki in proving that yes, indeed, anybody can write a book — just like anybody can sing as well as Ice-T in the shower.

In keeping with “The Weekly Review’s” theme of showcasing female buttocks, here are pictures of authorial sensations Ice-T and Coco at the beach.   Stop gawking at Ice-T’s man-boobs.  You are looking at Ice-T’s man-boobs, aren’t you?

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This is a mug shot of Delbert Huber.  Huber is a farmer accused of shooting and killing his neighbor during a dispute over fifty bucks.  Huber is from a small town near the small town where I grew up.

Now you know everything you need to know about Delbert Huber — and me.

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Washington Post columnist Jen Chaney wrote about the upcoming televised marriage of skanky Kim Kardashian to Frankenstein’s monster:

I think Minnesotans would be wise to take any sort of putdown from Kardashian — a spoiled, worthless idiot if ever there was one — as a compliment.

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Andrea Tarantula — excuse me, Tantaros — was guest ombudswoman on Fox’s Red Eye and led off the show by promising to deliver her comments while topless.  She didn’t follow up on her promise, but now we know why viewers tune in to this show in the middle of the night.

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Smug, unhip, and irrelevant Dennis Miller poked fun at the “losers” participating in the Occupy Wall Street protests.  Hey Dennis, know what a real loser is?  A rich, middle-aged jerk who references obscure Greek philosophers, thinks that makes him an intellectual, and laughs at his own jokes.

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Hey, Entertainment Weekly, do you miss Charlie Sheen yet?

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Years ago, I was a reporter working at the Republican National Convention in Dallas.  One day I overheard 60 Minutes curmudgeon Andy Rooney speaking to a companion.  He said something like, “I couldn’t believe the quality of the food at that place!”

So it seemed fitting to me that Rooney’s final commentary on Sunday ended with, “If you do see me in a restaurant, please, just let me eat my dinner.”  Bon appetit, old fart!

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Folks in Minnesota are excited about the Lynx, a women’s basketball team on the verge of winning the WNBA championship.  Women’s sports often struggle to attract media attention and, until recently, the Lynx have been no exception.

The pictures below have absolutely nothing to do with sports, and I suppose it’s sexist to post them, but look what I found on Lynx guard Candice Wiggins’s Facebook page.  Hey, it’s the first rule of advertising:  Get the customer’s attention.

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hmmmm … lots of lingering shots of  Dylan McDermott’s bare backside in the first episode of American Horror Story, butt the show seemed to go out of its way to avoid any displays of female flesh.  Connie Britton had sex  — without so much as removing her slip.  A maid played with herself — without removing her uniform.

Ryan Murphy is the openly gay brains behind Glee, Nip/Tuck, and now this series.  That might explain things.

As for the show itself, the jury is still out.  I didn’t think it was particularly scary, but it was stylish and had some fun nods to horror films of the past.  I especially dug the music, which borrowed everything from the whistling in Twisted Nerve to Bernard Herrmann’s soaring score in Vertigo.

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Seems like every week there is some pressing reason to post a picture of a sexy actress’s rear end.  This week, it’s David Letterman grilling George Clooney about Vera Farmiga’s bare ass in Clooney’s movie Up in the Air.

Letterman:  “You see her butt … I was just curious, was that hers, or a stand-in’s?”

Clooney:  “I’m not really at liberty to answer that question.”

Clearly, some research was called for.  Someone needed to get to the bottom of this.  According to Web sites that study this sort of thing, the derriere in question belongs to a body double named Sarah Tuttle (above).  But just in case Dave is reading this, here is a picture of Farmiga’s actual butt, from something called Running Scared:

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The media informs us that Jesus Christ died this week.  Funny, because I thought I was getting along just fine in life, more or less, for many years before I even heard of Steve Jobs.  And I suspect that I will get along just fine, more or less, now that Jobs has gone to iHeaven.

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