Onward Bound Humor

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Location: The City, On the edge

Monday, December 22, 2008

393. The old and the new

As the French saying goes, “Plus ça change, plus c’est la meme chose.” (Translation: “Is not our first lady hot?”) But is it really true that things never really change, they just stay the same? Herewith a guide to where things stand zeitgeist-wise as we usher in a new president, and with any luck, a new era. On reflection, perhaps the French have something there. They usually do.

Worst U.S. President
Old: Buchanan
New: Bush (II)
Publish Post

Reassuring African- American Leader
Old: Colin Powell
New: Obama

Menacing Ruskie
Old: Stalin
New: Putin

GOP Clotheshorse
Old: Nancy Reagan
New: Sarah Palin

Toxic substance
Old: Asbestos
New: Collateralized Debt Obligation

Three Stooges
Old: Moe, Larry, Curley
New: Detroit Auto CEOs

Eponymous/Onomatopoeic Financial Scoundrel
Old: Ponzi
New: Madoff

Wise Man
Old: Greenspan
New: Buffett

Oxygen-Depleting, Single-Named Blonde Divorcée
Old: Diana
New: Madonna

Cancer Phobia
Old: Cell phones
New: Bottled water

Illegal Substance
Old: Meth
New: Canadian Lipitor

Guilty Pleasure
Old: Downloading Napster
New: Leaving Lights On

High-minded Catchphrase
Old: Compassionate Conservatism
New: Audacity of Hope

Politically Incorrect Gas guzzler
Old: Hummer
New: Gulfstream

Weirdo Actor
Old: Christopher Walken
New: Joaquin Phoenix

Potty-Mouthed Illinois Pol
Old: Rahm Emmanuel
New: Gov. Blagojevich

Crown Kennedy
Old: Ted
New: Caroline

$6 Million Book Advance
Old: Colin Powell
New: Tina Fey

Hyper-Adoptive Actress
Old: Mia Farrow
New: Angelina Jolie

Tantalizing Opener
Old: Please to contact me most Very immediately re: $16 Mil Dollars (US) In Your Bank of Nigeria Acct!
New: In the event of an erection lasting more than four hours...

Village Atheist
Old: Madalyn Murray O'Hair
New: Christopher Hitchens

Frigid, Cash Strapped Landmass
Old: Russia
New: Iceland

F--- You VP
Old: Rockefellar
New: Cheney

Fun Clinton
Old: Bill
New: Hillary

Torture Device
Old: Water-board
New: 401(k) Statement

P.S. The financial situation is so bad at present that Jewish women are marrying for love.

Christopher Buckley’s books include Supreme Courtship, The White House Mess, Thank You for Smoking, Little Green Men, and Florence of Arabia. His journalism, satire, and criticism has appeared in The New Yorker, The New York Times, The Wall Street Journal, Vanity Fair, Vogue, and Esquire. He was chief speechwriter for Vice President George H.W. Bush.

Monday, December 01, 2008

392, Laura Bennett Gives Thanks

Laura Bennett mother of six counts her blessings:

Sometimes it is hard to remember that Thanksgiving is not about food, but in fact, about giving thanks. I do not believe in God per say, but I do believe in some kind of universal cosmic force, and to this force, I would like to take a moment to mention the things I am most thankful for. Though being an all-powerful universal cosmic force, it probably already knows.

I am thankful for Fresh Direct, an incredible grocery delivery service we have here in New York. With a few clicks of a mouse, I can order everything I need for the week, and it magically arrives at my door. This saves me from having to shop for food at Duane Reade, which is a good thing, because you can only serve Frosted Flakes and Ramen noodles for dinner so many times before Child Services gets involved. I am also thankful for paper plates, because not only do I detest shopping and cooking, but the aftermath of clean up is exponentially easier when I can just plow the contents of the dinner table into the garbage can.

I am thankful for my hilarious kids, who are a constant source of good writing material because, believe me, I couldn’t make this stuff up.

I am thankful for Adderall, Ritalin, Focalin et al, because a medicated child is a happy child. Likewise, I am thankful for nicotine gum, Dunkin Donuts coffee, and Tanqueray martinis up with olives, because a medicated parent is a happy parent.

I am thankful for my personal technology whose artificial intelligence surpasses my own. Spell-check; you are brilliant, and if not for you this essay would be unintelligible.

I am thankful for my long-wear lipstick and my power panties. You keep my lips and ass in place, respectively, and save me valuable time having to check mirrors. And my Birkin Bag, not only do you faithfully carry around all the crap required to get me through my day, but you offer me security; if I ever decide to run away, I can stop by that high-end re-sale shop on eighteenth street on my way out of town and raise enough cash to live for six months.

I am thankful for my nannies, Alicia and Nicole. Your hard work and dedication keep me from becoming a homicidal bitch. And our housekeeper, Zoila, my husband’s true wife. Other women in his life have come and gone, but for thirty years, you have been there for him, and you’ve never once washed his cell phone. Sorry, Peter. I am thankful for Blake, our manny, because only a gay would serve show tunes with breakfast.

I am thankful for my family. For my husband, who never complains about the price of my Manolo’s, though his accountant hates the fact that I charge them to his business American Express, and has repeatedly asked me to stop. Peter has never asked me to stop, and until I get the word from the big guy, I’m taking that as a go ahead. I am thankful for my hilarious kids, who are a constant source of good writing material because, believe me, I couldn’t make this stuff up. I am thankful my daughter attends a state college; wow, what a tuition break. I am especially thankful that my crack-addicted forty-seven year old twice-divorced brother moved back in with my parents, and not me. Hang in there, Mom.

Bennett lives amid complete chaos in New York City with her husband and six children, Cleo, 20, Peik, 13, Truman, 10, Pierson, 6, Larson, 5, and Finn, 2.