BRags issues a call for help!

Friends of Weenie Enema,

Yes it's true. I need help with my Senior Thesis. I'm conducting a phone survey and trying to get at least 500, hopefully 1000 responses. For this, I need volunteers to call people. Ideally, I'd like volunteers to collect 10-20 surveys each from phone numbers I provide. If I get 50-100 volunteers, it should be easy to reach my goal responses. The survey takes about 2-3 minutes to complete over the phone.

I'll be presenting my completed thesis in Chicago to the invitational Midwestern Political Science Association Conference, and I'm seeking publication after that. Those who assist in survey collection will be credited in the paper. All volunteers recieve my unending thanks. I'm looking for just 30 min to an hour of your time. You can probably count this as community service.

Please let me know if you can help and I'll send you the survey and some phone numbers.

For those who want to know, my Thesis is about the way Americans view warfare. It involves movies and American mass media's effect on the way Americans understand and choose to support or oppose a particular war. Below is an illustration, from the text:

(c) 2007 Nicholas Gurewitch. Used with permission.

Remember When Nicole Kidman Decided to Come to the Oscars Dressed as a Christmas Stocking?

Me too.

Although my Oscar analysis has had to overcome tremendous obstacles because of my inability to liveblog and be cool at the same time, I was able to retain enough Nicole Christmas stocking-esque moments to provide a legit recap for my loyal reader base. Before I delve into the nitty-gritty, I would like to formally deliver a shout-out to DB Bogangles for allowing me to attend a social gathering that included other people, and Z-Dog, who voluntarily agreed to stand behind the couch with me and scan the procedings from a diety-like position. Z-Dog also hates Dreamgirls. And does not mind when people yell "Poon!" at the TV whenever Ellen Degeneres is on.

Does anybody else think it's weird when Ellen says she's attracted to random male celebrities? I can't remember which specific guy she was talking about, but when lesbians say, "Oh, it's too bad (insert name of celebrity with penis) is taken," it's just an insult to the world's intelligence. We know you don't really think about Leonardo DiCaprio when you're in bed with Portia diRossi. It's okay. We can take it.

As an aside, I would have given Ellen's hosting gig a B. It wasn't embarrassingly unfunny like Chris Rock's attempt at transcending his schtick to mainstream society, but I suspect she sacrificed edgy humor/talent so that she might get asked back next year. Not a stupid move, but for my own personal amusement, I would have loved to see some Nicole Christmas Stocking Jokes. Just two or three of them. I feel I speak for the masses.


First things first. Since Peter O'Toole was the nostalgic old man poon lust underdog of the evening, we were treated to oodles of shots of him in his chair staring vapidly into space with his mouth approximately 20% open. What no one appeared to notice, or at least wouldn't overtly comment on, was the fact that he brought Angelica Huston to the Oscars. They are apparently having a geriatric affair of sorts, and it should have been noted for those watching at home who have never seen "The Witches" and have no idea who that decrepit oddity next to him was.

He also apparently brought a prepubescent elvin creature to the ceremony. Classy.

My award for the Smartest Move of the Evening goes to Kirsten Dunst, who has been alerted to the fact that we all know she doesn't brush her teeth, and wisely kept her smiles toothless. Well done.

A little too Gwyneth, but we'll take what we can get.

The award for Eyerolling Dot Net goes to Jennifer Hudson, whose hourglass figure and voicebox dealt a solid KO to The Rinko. Don't you just LOVE it when someone who had a 99% chance of winning says, "I had no idea I was going to win." Whatever. You know who should have said that? Rinko. Because Rinko is amazing and didn't stand a snowball's chance in hell of winning because of the Deaf Mute Poon Clause that was written on the Academy Award ballot this year. A travesty beyond all travesties.

Don't worry, Rinko. It's nothing we haven't seen before.

I do want to take a moment to single out Abigail Breslin, who came close to saving Little Miss Sunshine from being a contrived piece of shizzle, but ultimately failed. We heart people who come to the Oscars looking like Precious Moments figurines.


Separated at birth? You decide.

In terms of actual awardness, it was a mixed bag. It was infinitely enjoyable to see Eddie Murphy's miserable stoicness during Alan Arkin's speech, knowing he was NEVER going to be anywhere NEAR the Oscars again. But hey, I don't recall anyone putting a gun to his head and MAKING him sign up for Daddy Day Care. Or any of the other countless shitfests on his resume.

Everyone's masturbatory fascination with Al Gore has become a bit grating. I have nothing against Al personally, although that lipsucking session with Tipper during the 2000 Democratic Convention has been etched into my brain, and I've been unsuccessfully attempting to remove it since. I understand that 90% of the auditorium thinks he won that election, but...he didn't. And then he grew a beard and went crazy.

If you type in "al gore crazy" on Yahoo, this comes up. Love.

In conclusion, I resolve to find out why Forest Whitaker has a wonky eye. I thought the burglar in Panic Room was SUPPOSED to have a wonky eye, and that the cop in Phone Booth was SUPPOSED to have a wonky eye. When the African dictator had the wonky eye, I became suspicious.
Other famous wonky eyes:

Melissa Joan Hart.

TV Theme Songs, Puggies and Other Assorted Shizzle.

My loyal comrade DB Bogangles (who will NOT let me liveblog the Oscars at her party because she fears her social position will be put in jeopardy, and will NOT let me bring a poster that says, "NOTES ON A SCANDAL BOJANGLES!" for reasons that have not been made entirely clear to me, but probably have something to do with the aforementioned social position) and I are about to embark on hardcore momentous blog posts about theme songs, which is a subject near and dear to my cold, cold heart. The tentative format will be a post dedicated to each of our top five tv theme songs, a post dedicated to five honorable mentions, and a post dedicated to theme songs that are so atrocious, we feel compelled to avoid the actual show for fear of being...ear drum poisoned. Which is a new phrase I just invented. If my readership has any suggestions regarding said format dot dot dot.

At work, I was given a postcard advertisement for an art show consisting of dog paintings. The postcard shows a puggie that is viciously humping a furry heart that says, "I Love You." It reminds me of the time I went to a mad sketch street fair in Flemington, NJ in 1998. I played one of those balloon dart games and managed to succcessfully pop two balloons. My prize was a brown furry heart thing that had probably been collecting dust/disease for months. My mom was so repulsed that she gave the carnival vendor $10 so that I could win a stuffed dog with plastic red ears.
I miss the brown furry heart.

I have come to the conclusion that if you were a celebrity teenage boy in the 1990s and you had three names, you were hot. Observe:

Jonathan Taylor Thomas.


True story: My dad was driving me home from grocery shopping at the Grand Union (RIP) and I was scouring a recently purchased issue of Teen Beat, Tiger Beat, 16, Bop, or some such goodness. I was reading aloud the fanmail from JTT, and one girl wrote, "I would drool an ocean for him!" My dad laughed so hard he drove off the road and stopped the car for five minutes until he had enough control over his body to continue down Route 12. Further down the page, another girl brazenly claimed she was the biggest JTT fan ever because she had 25 posters of him up on her bedroom walls. Two weeks later, I had 26. Just to spite her. It is not known if someone found out about my 26 posters and intentionally bought 27 to officially become the biggest JTT fan.

Jason James Richter.

Hmm. He's not as hot as I remember from my first screening of Free Willy.
Several weeks ago, Drunk Erin and I got into a SCREAMING match over Jason James Richter because she kept insisting that Elijah Wood was in Flipper, which he is, but I thought she said Free Willy, so for five minutes, we had an exchange similar to this:
Drunk Erin: I'm telling you, Elijah was in Flipper!
EE: No!!!! IT'S SOME OTHER KID WITH THREE NAMES!
Drunk Erin: Um...that's not the same movie!
EE: YES IT IS!
Drunk Erin: That was Free Willy.
EE: I KNOW! THAT'S WHAT WE'RE TALKING ABOUT!
Drunk Erin: *frowns* Ingrid...I'm sober. Buy me beer.
Ingrid: Okaaaaay.

Look out for the TV theme post goodness. I leave you with a furry heart.

Introduction of Beretta Mego (guest post)

As a new entity on this blog I feel i should introduce myself. I am the fiancee of BRags (Bobbie Ragsdale) and have quickly become friends with one Ms. E.E. Grimshaw. I was mentioned in a previous interview with BRags. I'm Meghan Jorgenson, the long time best friend from 7th grade that he spent Thanksgiving '06 with and had a part in his break up with GrrrlVicious.

So that aside I will tell you a little about me. I'm a 22 year old Accounting student at LSU. I was born and raised in Louisiana. My parents divorced when I was 3 and my dad remarried when I was 6. I have a half sister named Julia who is 13. I live in Baton Rouge with my 3 year old dog, Lucy Bear, and my 4 year old cat, Smokey.

I went to a small private school from the age of 2 until I was in 8th grade. This is where I met BRags. We met in sixth grade but didn't become best friends until 7th grade. We bonded on a level uncommon to the normal 7th grader. We grew to be really close over the years. We always stayed in touch somehow (usually Instant Messenger).

I went to high school in the city of New Orleans. High school Sucked! Girls are unnecessarily vicious and boys are after one thing no matter how good of friends you think they are. I have been in and out of therapy my entire life. My mom was always worried about my emotional well being. I only appreciated therapy when I went to my last therapist. In high school I did a lot of self reflection and attempted to improve myself in every way possible. I was spurred by a vicious girl I had befriended. She infiltrated my home life as well as my school life. I skipped school for a week and drove around all day just so I could get some peace of mind. When I got caught I was sent to a therapist. I wanted to go this time. He was an incredible mentor. He made me figure out my problems. I also had to figure out how to fix them myself. He would help me when I got stuck but he was teaching me an invaluable ability. He taught me to be honest with myself and to solve my own problems if they were solvable and how to deal with them if they aren't solvable. I was out of therapy in a few months with a mass amount of insight and knowledge. Shortly after I graduated and went to college.

In high school I lived by the motto that you should learn from every event in your life. If you learn something from a bad experience then it is now something good. This helped me keep an optimistic outlook on life. (People describe me as an extremely happy person. My nick name since middle school has been "giggles". Appropriately so, since I laugh or giggle all of the time. I just would rather laugh and enjoy life rather than be a sad or angry person.)

College was a whole new start for me. I no longer was shy. I let people see the real me and had a great time. Apparently too good of a time. I focused on my social life so much that my school work suffered. I eventually made the biggest mistake of my life and stopped going to class. Which led me to flunking out. I took a year off of school and figured some things out. I quickly straightened up and got back into school. It is such a tremendous effort to raise your GPA! I know this from experience. I'm still struggling to get it to an acceptable number. But, like I said, I learned from my mistakes. I love accounting and actually want to be in school. (I have been a math nerd for my entire life.)

Meanwhile my love life has always been a roller coaster. Bobbie was the first guy I ever said, "I love you" to. Freshman year of high school I dated a guy 3 years older than me. He and I had major problems. He was in love with me and I was trying to fix him. He had to be better then me and if he wasn't he would just avoid doing things with me. The last straw was the year of accusations I received. I was accused of cheating on a daily basis. (I never once cheated.) I broke it off after 2 years when, I couldn't handle the emotional burden anymore. There were a few flings and then I had my next boyfriend. The end of my junior year I dated an extremely intelligent but a party hardy guy. We spent 2 and a half years together before we ended it. He was a great guy and we are still best of friends and love each other. We were just taking different roads in our lives and heading in separate directions (metaphorically speaking). We are much happier as friends. I quickly rebounded into the worst relationship of my life that lasted about a year. He was as sweet as could be for about 6 months and then his temper started to show. After about 9 months he went from emotional abuse to physical abuse. Don't worry I'm a tough cookie. I grew up with all boys and had learned to hold my own in a fight. He got hurt worse than I ever did I think. The emotional abuse hurt more than anything else. I kicked him out when things escalated to a point that started to really worry me. I dated a few friends after that. Bad idea. I learned guys are jerks even guys you have known for a while.

This is when I started to really get upset. I finally got back in touch with BRags (who I had lost contact with for the past two years). I was upset and told him he needs to come home and take me on a real date. Cause I knew he was a sincere and nice guy and would treat me the way I wanted and deserved to be treated. He breaks my heart and tells me he is engaged ( I guess I deserved it for breaking his heart in the 8th grade). I gave him a tongue lashing for not telling me when he got engaged. He informed me he was coming home for Thanksgiving and we should hang out. (I had heard this before and was let down in previous holiday attempts to "catch up".) I talked to him almost everyday and told him I was going to be home (in New Orleans) alone for Thanksgiving. He agreed to spend it with me to avoid the annoying comments about his fiancee.

I should probably mention I was dating a friend of mine who I thought was a nice guy at the time. So BRags invitation was completely platonic. I had no intentions that anything more would happen between us. Just so that is clear.

BRags came in and I picked him up from the airport. We stayed at my home in Crown Point. We drove back and forth from Crown Point,LA to Diamondhead,MS every day. We spent a lot of time singing oldies in the car and talking. We seemed to have picked up right where we had left off. We still had that strange bond and connection we always had. I became alarmed by his family's worries of his impending marriage. They said they hadn't seen him as happy as he was with me in years. In a car ride back to Louisiana I asked him to tell me about his fiance. We started talking and I told him how I felt about marriage. I told him how I felt about a lot of things. I also told him I would support him whatever he decided to do despite his families wishes. The hour and a half long conversation was indeed an interesting one. I found out he was unhappy. I also found out how much he cared for me.

In the end he decided he had to break off his engagement. He knew at the time he may never have a shot with me but, he had to take the risk. He left to go back to New York and I was left to think about things. I knew if I was going to date him, he would be the last guy I dated. I was not deciding to just date him I was deciding whether or not I was going to marry him. BRags and I talked everyday until he came home again for Christmas. I was still dating (if you could call it that) when BRags came in. He stayed with me for a little over two weeks over the holidays. I was stood up on the day before Christmas Eve and it made me miss BRags so much. He was in Diamondhead and I was in Crown Point. I called him and talked to him for an hour. I quickly realized he is always the guy I turn to. The whole reason we were even spending the holidays together was because I wanted to go on a date with him.

I went to Diamondhead the next day and was unbelievably nervous. I had finally made my decision. I wanted to be with Bobbie. He gave me the most thoughtful and surprising gift and melted my heart. He was everything I wanted in a partner. I was still nervous though I was afraid to hurt him. The day after Christmas I finally kissed him and made "us" an official couple. We spent a week together after the kiss and I have never felt so loved or felt so much love for someone else.

Before he left I told him I knew he was the one I wanted to marry. Shortly after he returned to West Point we decided the wedding should be soon. S o I have been busy throwing a wedding together. I've completed all the details in less than a month. I'm really proud of this accomplishment.

So... Everyone should now be thoroughly introduced to me. Y'all should be up to date on BRags and my relationship. EE Grimshaw is hoping to be able to set up an interview with me soon. (details are TBA) I look forward to any questions and promise to answer anything you throw at me. As I told Ms. Grimshaw I don't care if people don't like me as long as they get to know the real me first. Judge me for who I am not what you think I am. (Emma said I should throw this in here)

BTW- Ms. Grimshaw has nick named me Beretta Mego. Due to the picture below. I have quickly grown fond of this nick name. Anyway I look forward to meeting y'all for my interview.

Until next time.... Beretta Mego out.

Official Confirmation That Dreamgirls Wasn't That Good: The Weenie Enema Oscar Preview.

I don't think I could have stomached two mediocre musicals winning Best Picture within five years of each other. Thankfully, that is no longer a possibility. Although (as usual) I have many, many issues with the nomination selection process, most of them are overshadowed by the Academy refusing to bow down to peer pressure and relegating Dreamgirls to Supporting Actor/Actress glories and the musical and art categories that no one cares about. This is a huge step in my overall goal - being annointed Offical Person Who Selects the Winners of the Academy Awards.

As many of my loyal readers are aware, I am already the Only Official Person Who Acknowledges the Spice Girls and a Possible Reunion Tour in the Coming Years.

Actor in a Leading Role.
Leonardo DiCaprio - Blood Diamond.
Ryan Gosling - Half Nelson.
Peter O'Toole - Venus.
Will Smith - The Pursuit of Happyness.
Forest Whitaker - The Last King of Scotland.

I bet Leo wasn't the only one who laughed out loud when he saw Blood Diamond next to his name. Are they serious? He's getting nominated for doing a horrible imitation of Charlize with facial hair and running around after Djimon Hounsou in South Africa? Did the Academy see The Departed? "Sure, he was good in the Scorcese movie, but it can't compete with, 'In America, it's bling bling. But out here, it's bling bang.'"
The Ryan Gosling selection is interesting, because the hardcore film creatures at OscarWatch have been prattling on about this Half Nelson movie forever, and I'm not aware of anyone outside of that Website who has any idea this movie exists. He's clearly not going to win, but it would have been nice if this selection somehow pushed out the biannual attempt to glorify the Fresh Prince. Remember when Will Smith was legitimately cool and made Westerns with Kenneth Branagh?

"Ay dios mio! The teleprompter is in English!" - Salma Hayek.

Who Was Hardcore Gypped Like The Wolf?: The same person who was gypped by the Foreign Press - Patrick Wilson in Little Children. But, you know, they HAD to nominate Leo twice. Because out here, it's bling bang.

Weenie Enema prediction: Although the old man poon lust was mouthdroppingly insane, Ugandan dictators are creepier. Especially when they advocate hanging people by their skin and disassembling Kerry Washington's body into an unrecognizable, congealed mess.

Oops, that's Robert Mugabe, not Idi Amin. Africa is confusing.

Actor in a Supporting Role.
Alan Arkin - Little Miss Sunshine.
Jackie Earle Haley - Little Children.
Djimon Hounsou - Blood Diamond.
Eddie Murphy - Dreamgirls.
Mark Whalberg - The Departed.

The Blood Diamond promotional tour continues. Somewhere, Jennifer Connolly is standing on a dock staring mournfully out at the water. Because she does that in every movie she has ever been in. At least Djimon wasn't doing a Charlize impression. Or playing a creepy half-naked guy with AIDS who stares at naive Irish girls.
With the exception of the requisite Dreamgirls selection, the rest of the list is solid. However, have you noticed that Mark Whalberg gets hotter as his hair gets shorter, and significantly grosser when the hair gets longer? Observe:

Short hair = hot.

Long hair = gross.
Very strange.
This rule also applies to Denzel Washington.

No hair = hot.

Longer hair = ew.
Clearly something I should have dedicated an entire post to.

Who Was Hardcore Gypped Like the Wolf?: Brad Pitt. Without question. The guy is one of the worst mainstream actors ever, but put him in a room with Cate Blanchett weeing herself and give him some gnarly gray facial hair, and you have majesty.

Weenie Enema Prediction: The father of TWO Spice Girl babies (fingers crossed) will momentarily rise above his Bowfinger past and get heckled by the Scary Spice supporters who were conspiciously absent during his Golden Globe win. Actually, this is more of a hope than a prediction. Take from it what you will.

"This was fun, but it's time to go back to filming Bowfinger 4."

Actress in a Leading Role.
Penelope Cruz - Volver.
Judi Dench - Notes on a Scandal.
Helen Mirren - The Queen.
Meryl Streep - The Devil Wears Prada.
Kate Winslet - Little Children.

I don't think it's possible to be more in love with a category. Everyone in here was amazing and deserves something, although I think the Academy simply feels obligated to honor Meryl as often as they can. (See of the Heart, Music.) Although it's almost moot to speculate on this at all, since everyone knows who's going to win, I think special props should go out to Judi Dench, whose on-screen partnership with the Maine Coon cat was the stuff of legends. Was the previous sentence simply an excuse to put in a picture of an over-fluffed creature of wonderment?

Duh. Of course it was.

And I know I'm going to get hate mail about this, but seeing that cat on top of a fish tank is making me wonder if the insertion of the Maine Coon in Notes was supposed to be creepy animal symbolism...because...cats like fish and Judi likes - alright. I'm done. Just something to consider.

Who Was Hardcore Gypped Like the Wolf?: No one was, but let's just say Jennifer Connolly for Blood Diamond so she comes off that dock and stops moping.

Weenie Enema Prediction: Helen Mirren's dress at the Globes was too long to see if the thunder calves of the Queen were prosthetic or not, but maybe we'll find out later this month!

Edible calf. Mmmmm.

Actress in a Supporting Role.
Adriana Barraza - Babel.
Cate Blanchett - Notes on a Scandal.
Abigail Breslin - Little Miss Sunshine.
Jennifer Hudson - Dreamgirls.
Rinko Kikuchi - Babel.

Although this is another category where the winner has been all but announced, Cate Blanchett deserves some kind of reward from humanity for having to endure the seductive finger stroking of Judi Dench on her forearms for what seemed like an eternity. Now, people who have seen the movie will be quick to point out that she makes up for that by having multiple hot nude scenes with the Irish boy who looks likes a wolf. Yes. We liked. But no one deserves to be poon stalked by Judi Dench, not even if your sex partner is Balto.


Cate Blanchett getting lucky.


Cate Blanchett getting not so lucky.

Who Was Hardcore Gypped Like The Wolf?: Sylvia Syms for The Queen, the only person who legitimately could provide comic relief as the Queen Mum, and did. That movie would have been dryer than - no, I promised I would stop talking about Judi.

Weenie Enema Prediction: If Jennifer Hudson winning Best Supporting Actress means we never have to hear about Dreamgirls ever again, then I will grit my teeth and accept fate. I still maintain my allegience to The Rinko. If she gets typecast as a deaf mute, she could totally play Helen Keller in a remake of The Miracle Worker. And for a brief period of time, I would probably be allowed to share my Helen Keller jokes with the world outside my apartment/Devra.

Helen Keller went to town, riding on a pony. Stuck a feather in her cap and called it mmmeerrroooooo.

Since I think the Deaf Mute Rights Association is about to shut me down, just know that Babel should win Best Picture. The end.

One more Maine Coon for the road.