And the key figure in U.S./Middle East relations is… Dennis Rodman?!

It’s only February 28, and yet, I don’t think we will see a more intriguing picture during the rest of 2013 than this one:


Don’t adjust your computer screen. That is, indeed, Dennis “The Worm” Rodman — the eccentric and flamboyant basketball star of the late 80s and 90s — with Kim Jong Un, the 29-year-old supreme leader of North Korea.

You know, that country that hates us. That really, really hates us. And practically everyone else for that matter.

That same country that deprives its citizens of basic human needs, and has built a country contingent on its military.

That same country that is devoted towards improving its nuclear program, just so that they could kill everyone.

And yet, here is their leader, smiling, having a jolly old good time with an American. It’s not Barack Obama. It’s not Condoleeza Rice. It’s not even Angelina Jolie.

It’s Dennis Rodman.

Rodman is in North Korea as part of an HBO documentary about basketball diplomacy, and while he’s there, he made a pit stop in Pyongyang and watched a basketball game with Kim Jong Un. Allegedly, Kim Jong Un is a “diehard” basketball fan, and was especially a huge fan of the Chicago Bulls during their 7-title reign in the 90s, in which Rodman was a big part of.

Wow. The NBA has been undergoing an ambitious marketing campaign the past few years, trying to spread its sport overseas and gain attention in other countries. Had they known that their popularity spread all the way to North Korea, they may not have tried so hard.

And perhaps this is useful information for Obama. If we want North Korea to disable their nuclear missiles, then instead of offering them food and money, maybe he can just shoot them some court side Bulls tickets? Problem solved.

Rodman supposedly told Jong Un that he has a “friend for life.” I wonder if they are Facebook friends by now?

But let’s get on to more important matters, and revisit the picture above. As I said, it is one of the more intriguing, compelling photos we will ever see. Let’s dissect it.


I just can’t get over Kim Jong Un’s appearance. Every time I see him, it blows my mind that this guy actually leads a country. In every picture, he just looks like a normal dude, having fun and chilling out with his buddies.

In fact, I legitimately think that Kim Jong Un and I would get along. If I showed up to my college dormitory my freshman year having not yet met my roommate, and all of a sudden Kim Jong Un walked in, and I had no idea who he was, I think him and I would grow to be good friends. I can see me and him throwing back some beers, watching some basketball, and then going out to bars and picking up girls.

With Kim Jong’s endearing smile and personality, and my charm and good looks, I’m sure we’d be elite wingmen for one another.

And then you have Rodman to his left, who, for once, actually looks normal. Rodman was notorious during his playing days for having vibrant colored hair, featuring a different color every other week. But in this photo, he’s cleaned up, he looks ravishing, and his hair is a normal color.

Again, it’s still a very difficult image to process.

Let’s continue.


I’m pretty sure that the black guy in the red hoodie is being held hostage. If you look back at the original picture at the top, he is the only person in the scene who is not smiling. On the contrary, he looks tense and nervous. Nervous as in, if he makes one wrong move, he’s dead.

And the two guys next to him? Those are the people who are keeping him in bay. Just look at them — they are eyeing him like hawks on their prey.


It’s really easy to miss the girl directly above Rodman. But once you notice her, it’s horrifying. I’ve never seen anyone stare more intently at somebody in my life than she is at Rodman in this photo.

It’s almost like she’s been placed there to keep an eye on him, and if he tries to harm Kim Jong Un, or worse, tries to free his friend in the red hoodie, then she’s going to toss throwing star right into his gullet.

All I know is, if I ever see an Asian woman stare at me like that, then I know it’s over.

And to cap off this whole “Dennis Rodman goes to North Korea,” adventure, the recently inducted NBA Hall of Famer has been posting on Twitter during his travels abroad. Here is one of them in particular:


Pretty funny Tweet, but it’s a little inaccurate. The “Gangnam Style Dude,” who goes by the stage name of Psy, made sure to correct Rodman on his geographical inaccuracy:


I really can’t think of a better way to end today’s post than that.

What happens in the doctor’s office, stays in the doctor’s office. Until now.

There is an unspoken bond between patients and doctors. And I’m not even speaking of HIPAA laws or doctor-patient confidentiality agreements. I’m referring more to the personal relationship that exists. You trust them. You confide in them. And if there is something wrong with you, then you damn well expect them to discover it.

Unfortunately, for them to discover such things, they must observe you… everywhere. Therefore, when we go in for our yearly checkups, it’s no-holds barred. Your doctor’s going to get all up in there.

But we never talk about it elsewhere. When your doctor is observing you down there, he keeps it professional, maybe even maintains a conversation, and then it’s done. By the way, I said “he” and not “she” because I have never had a female doctor. And that’s not because I think they’re incompetent, but it’s because I wouldn’t be able to trust myself during an examination.

Anyway, after the checkup, you go back home and go about your life. Nobody ever shares specific details about their doctor’s appointments with their friends and families. In fact, you purposely hide details. What happens in the doctor’s office stays in the doctor’s office. You’ll never, ever hear a male approach his friend and be like, “Yo dude, my doctor just touched my wee-wee! High five!” You will take that with you to your grave.

For women, it goes even one step further. Thankfully — and I’ve never meant “thankfully” more in my life — guys never have to step into a gynecologist’s office in their lives for their own bodily needs. Unless you undergo a gender transformation, but, I’m not going to go there.

I can’t even imagine what the mood in the room must be like when a girl is being examined by her OBGYN. Nor do I know if I even want to imagine it. Honestly, it sucks that girls have to do that. I feel bad for you. That’s a whole bunch of extra medical bills that us guys never have to worry about in our lives.

But anyway, the point is, like males with their doctors, there is a certain trust in these situations. If your doctor underwent the whole process of going through years and years and years of medical schooling and training, why would they ever risk losing their license by doing anything inappropriate? We don’t just hope — we expect our doctors to convey the utmost professionalism.

However, one must remember that there is a human element. If you are a male gynecologist, and you spend your day looking at female private parts, then how can there not be some kind of temptation there? It’s hormonal nature for men to become aroused. It would be wrong if they didn’t. So, looking at it from that perspective, then it wouldn’t shock me if there was that one odd doctor in the bunch who gave into those sinful urges.

And his name is Nikita Levy.

Reportedly, Levy, an OBGYN at John Hopkins Hospital in Baltimore, had a concealed camera in his pen that he wore in a necklace around his neck. A a suspicious employee reported him to hospital officials on Feb. 4, and Levy, after being confronted, handed over several recording devices that he had been using on his patients and keeping for his own personal use. Two weeks later, Levy killed himself in his home.

Lovely story.

Clearly, his suicide is a guilty plea. Knowing he was doomed for eternity, and would be forever stamped as “Dr. Perv,” he decided that death was better than a tainted reputation (pun intended), jail time, and a lifetime’s worth of lawsuits. Allegedly, 2,000 of Levy’s patients have contacted a hotline that was established last week after this story broke.

The guy had 2,000 patients! That is 2,000 vaginas!


Plus you have to admit — if you’re going to conceal a camera, putting it inside a necklace pen is pretty ingenious. I personally would have went with the stethoscope.

Obviously this is nothing to joke about. But that being said, it’s 2,000 motherfu&*%ng vaginas! I watch porn more than any man should, and I’m still not even close to that number. And this guy saw them live!

There’s still no excuse for his behavior, but the fact that he had so many patients must mean that he was a pretty reputable physician. And then he goes and does something like this. That’s OBGY-Napproptiate. (Give me a little credit for that.)

The lesson that should be learned here is that you should never blindly trust your doctors. Just because they have a few plaques on the wall, and a couple of initials after their name, it doesn’t guarantee professionalism. And next time my doctor goes to put his hands on my seldom-touched body parts, I am going to sneak a look to ensure there is no hidden camera draped around his neck or inside his pocket. The only thing I want going viral after a doctor’s visit are my cells.

It also surprises me that so many women confide in male gynecologists. But I know absolutely nothing about that so I won’t press that any further.

Although, if you can’t afford a gynecologist — or no longer trust them after this story — then I heard that bloggers are the next best thing.

Just saying.

How to be nice without being a pushover

Every once in a while I see somebody post a rhetorical question on Facebook, asking something along the lines of “Why do bad things happen to good people?” or something like, “I’m tired of being nice to people when I keep getting screwed over,” yada yada yada.

First and foremost, let me to say that I have no sympathy for people who post such things. We all have the ability to shape how we are treated by others, but a lot of people fail to realize that. There are too many people in the world who truly and naively believe that if they are nice all of the time, and do the right thing, that only good things should happen to them.

And that’s not the right way to go about things.

So I’ve decided to try to lend a helping hand. It is absolutely possible to be branded universally as a “nice person,” and still have a reputation where people know not to mess with you. Because there is nothing worse than being a pushover.

Yes, there have indeed been situations in the past where I allowed manipulative people to take advantage of me, but for the most part, I was equally to blame for it. And thus, you learn from those experiences. That is the most important thing.

So here’s some tips I will provide for you, which I myself have learned through years of life experience.

Your moral compass needs to point north.

This is mandatory before I delve any further.

I’m definitely not saying that you need to do the right thing all of the time, but more importantly, you need to know what the right thing to do is all of the time.

Upon surveying a situation, you should know what needs to be done for you to be looked upon in the most favorable light. As long as you are aware of it, it means that you have a solid grasp of morality.

However, human beings are innately lazy, apathetic and selfish. We don’t want to give money to homeless people. We don’t want to help our friends move. And we never want to be the designated driver. 

There are plenty of people in the Peace Corps who devote their lives to being saints and helping the needy, and god bless them. They are much better than I am. They are the ones who make up for lazy pricks like me who don’t always do the selfless thing. They cancel me out, and that’s why those people do what they do.

So try to identify the “right” thing to do in most circumstances, and do it sometimes. But even if you don’t, as long as you know what it is, then at least you’re on the right track.

To sum up: In any given situation, ask yourself this question — “Do I know what Mother Teresa would do right now?”

If the answer to that question is no, then you don’t need to read any further, because you’re not nice. You also need to reevaluate things.

Be able to identify manipulative people.

People are who they are in all contexts. If someone is a dick, then they are going to be a dick to everybody.

So when a self-proclaimed nice person experiences a situation where somebody is a dick to them, why are they so surprised by it? It’s not that difficult to determine that somebody is a not a nice person. So you shouldn’t go out of your way to help these people, and you certainly should not expect anything from these people. If you did, then that’s your fault.

Again, shitty people are shitty to everyone. It’s just your fault if you let it get to you.

To sum up: In any given situation, ask yourself this question — “If my car fell into a ditch at 3 a.m., and I needed a ride, would this person get out of bed to come and get me?”

If the answer to that question is yes, then those are your true friends that you should always be nice to. If the answer is “no” or “probably not,” then don’t rely too heavily on these people.

Fake nice is not nice.

There is a stark difference between genuinely nice people and fake nice people.

Genuinely nice people do good-natured things, and act politely because they like doing it. Being nice shouldn’t be “work.” If that’s the case, then you’re actually an ill-natured person and should drop the act and just join a gang or something.

There is nothing worse than people who act nice to others solely because they believe that acting nicely entitles them to things. You don’t do favors for people because you expect them to be returned, you do it because it doesn’t even occur to you that you are doing a “favor.” For you, it’s just commonplace.

To sum up: In any given situation, ask yourself this question — “Do I know, without hesitation, which of my friends owe me things right now?”

If the answer to that question is yes, it probably means that your friends don’t like you as much as you think, because they long ago realized that you’re not as nice as you appear to be.

Be a dick sometimes.

Now I am certainly not saying that you should be a dick to specific people. But I am saying that you should always be prepared to be a dick if you need to be.

Is someone offending you? Then drop the manners and stand up for yourself. Are you upset with somebody because of something they said or did? Then approach them about it, and don’t be nice to them outwardly while secretly holding a months-long grudge. I’m not saying to become Ronnie from Jersey Shore, but I’m saying to be prepared to have lash out sometimes when necessary.

As long as you don’t cross the line, but flirt a little bit towards the edge on occasion, then people will come to accept that you are somebody that they can’t walk all over.

To sum up: In any given situation, ask yourself this question — “Am I really, really mad at somebody right now, and they are completely oblivious to it?”

If the answer to that question is yes, then you definitely need to work on your “being a dick” skills, ya pushover.

Don’t ever humiliate or physically harm people.

Nobody ever deserves to be abused — both emotionally or physically. I don’t care how rude somebody is to you, there is an appropriate method to go about handling the situation. There is no context where sitting down, grabbing a beer, and talking through your issues like true men is never an option.

But if you ever resort to physical violence, or bullying, then you’re the opposite of nice.

To sum up: In any given situation, ask yourself this question — “Do I boil with uncontrollable rage when somebody wrongs me?”

If the answer to that question is yes, then you probably should seek outside help. Or marijuana.

In conclusion.

Unfortunately, nice people have to know when there is a time and a place to not be nice. That’s really the difference.

Also, if you want to see what “nice” is, then check out what this high-school basketball player does at the end of this clip. Now this is nice. It’s also an amazingly heartwarming and quick 2-minute clip. Trust me, it’s worth your time.

Outlining the Oscars

The jokes have been made, the awards have been distributed and the fashion police have pointed out their fashion faux pas — the Oscars, and the 2013 awards season, has officially come to a close.

But speaking of fashion police, can Ryan Seacrest just have a little bit of a pride? I mean, just a little? As usual, I did my best to avoid any type of red carpet specials prior the ceremony, and yet, I still put it on for five minutes just to make sure I wasn’t missing anything. Not only did I not miss anything, but in those five minutes I heard Ryan Seacrest ask about six different women, “Who are you wearing?”

I can promise you that whether I live to be 30 or whether I live to be 100, you will never — not once — hear the words “Who are you wearing?” come from my mouth. Come on, Ryan. I want you to be better.

Also, I guess the words “Academy Awards” have officially been outlawed? I don’t think I heard those words uttered once during last night’s telecast. Not that it’s a big deal, but just saying.

So the first twenty minutes or so of the show were more anticipated than usual, as “controversial” host Seth MacFarlane delivered the traditional opening monologue. I say controversial because many people were wondering if he might be too inappropriate for the Oscars. Heck, he even parodied that notion by having William Shatner Skype his way onto the stage, informing Seth of what tomorrow’s headlines are going to read.

I thought that was hysterical, because by doing that, he’s beating all of these “holier than thou” entertainment blogs to the punch.

And unsurprisingly, the critics were indeed harsh. Seth’s shtick has apparently been branded as sexist, distasteful, unfunny and ill-conceived. 

My response to these “experts?” Lighten the hell up. I personally thought Seth MacFarlane did a terrific job, and was lightyears better than last year’s host, Billy Crystal. As host, MacFarlane kept a good pace, didn’t overdo it, and maintained the perfect balance between being edgy and wholesome. Were some of his jokes a little outdated? Yeah. He threw in a couple digs about Chris Brown and Mel Gibson that may have been more timely in 2011 rather than 2013, but, who cares?

The real reason people are being so tough on MacFarlane? Because they were expecting him to fail. These writers all were appalled that their prestigious Academy Awards were being hosted by the dude who created Family Guy, and they were going to bash him no matter what.

I actually rewatched his opening monologue about an hour ago — since I DVR’d that shit — and it was even funnier than I remember it being last night. So all of these knee-jerk reactions are a direct result of premeditated expectations. Nothing more and nothing less.

As an unofficial entertainment blogger and a just a regular movie fan, I applaud you, Seth. Thank you for doing a solid job last night. You made the Oscars very enjoyable for me.

And speaking of controversy, the Onion made headlines last night also. The satirical news network was live-Tweeting the Oscars last night, and one of their Tweets in particular drew the ire of, well, everyone.

Onion tweet

The Tweet was obviously meant to be of the “so ridiculous that we’re obviously joking” variety, but, many people took offense. After an outlash of negative comments to the remark, and even some articles, the Onion deleted the Tweet less than an hour later, and then issued a formal apology. 

Let’s be real here. Was the Tweet funny? Not really. But was I offended by it? Hell no.

Again, people just need to lighten up a little. It’s getting to the point where everybody is actually looking at and scrutinizing every little thing to ensure its appropriateness. It’s almost a form of reverse-censorship.

It’s the same with all these publications that are overanalyzing Seth MacFarlane’s jokes. By actually searching for sexism, or racism, then you are actually the ones who are perpetuating the stereotypes. How is that beneficial to anybody?

But let’s get to the actual awards.

The least shocking award recipients were Daniel Day Lewis and Anne Hathaway, who were as close to shoe-ins as you’ll ever find. But other than that, everything was pretty much up for grabs. Jennifer Lawrence, at the ripe age of 22, took home her first Oscar — while taking a spill in the process — Christoph Waltz won his second statue in three years, and Argo took home best picture, with means Ben Affleck has officially supplanted Matt Damon as the most successful of the Good Will Hunting duo. Who the hell thought that would happen 10 years ago?!

Also, all the freaks and mutants nominated for the special effects and technical awards were situated in their rightful place in the furthest most crevasse of the theater. Thank god for that.

In all seriousness, I really appreciated Ben Affleck’s speech. It was emotional, endearing, and most importantly, it was genuine. My biggest Oscar pet peeve are the people who win an award and do one of two things — either exude fake emotion a la Anne Hathaway (see image), or just read off a grocery list of people who they so desperately need to thank. Whatever happened to uttering some type of humorous anecdote and or insightful musing? You’re on the grand stage with millions of people watching. say something interesting for crying out loud! So I thank Ben Affleck for that.

Also, there were a couple of fun facts I learned during last night’s telecast — apparently Daniel Day Lewis is the first male to win the Oscar for Best Leading Actor three times. Additionally, something I had not realized was that every nominee for Best Supporting Actor (Robert De Niro, Philip Seymour Hoffman, Waltz, Alan Arkin and Tommy Lee Jones) had previously won an Oscar before. So that’s interesting.

And back to Jennifer Lawrence. Seriously, how can you not love this girl? She’s awkward, funny, natural and she just gets it. Just watch her post-Oscar interview and tell me you’re not a fan.

She’s an extremely hard person not to like. And she already had the benefit of the doubt from me because she’s hot. Remember kids, physical appearance over inner beauty — always. But when a hot girl just happens to have the inner beauty, then that is a rarity. J-Law has both.

So what else happened? Oh yeah, some quality musical performances. Apparently this year’s Oscars had a musical theme, which I have no problem with. And at this point, I’m pretty convinced that Adele is automatically going to win every award that exists in our universe.

A Grammy? Obviously. Golden Globe? Oscar? She’s got one of each. How about we hand her a Pulitzer Prize or a Purple Heart? I’m sure she’s done enough to deserve them. In fact, I think her rendition of “Skyfall” may have actually secured peace in the Middle East, so there you go.

But another musical performance that I did love was the cast of Les Misérables performing “One Day More.” I already have said how much I enjoyed the movie, and that song happened to be my favorite one from the flick. So I was really glad they performed it.

Check it out:

But after nearly four hours of the Oscars, I can honestly say that I enjoyed the festivities. It was a huge upgrade over the bland 2012 ceremony, and the award distribution was wide-spread among several different deserving movies. By my calculations, Life of Pi took home 4 Oscars, and that was the most that any movie won.

Heck, even Michelle Obama made a cameo appearance, as she tried to outdo Bill Clinton’s surprise guest spot at the Golden Globes.

I don’t know how, or why, or when, but it would be awesome if I somehow, one day, could win an Oscar. Even if it was one of the shitty Oscars that they don’t present on-screen. It can’t be too hard to make an animated short-film, can it? I can write a full-length screenplay, right? I can portray our nation’s most famous and respected president, can’t I?

Yeah, maybe I shouldn’t get ahead of myself just yet. Grammy first.

Oh yeah, so a meteor hit Russia.

Last Friday, a 10,000 ton-meteor hit Russia. 

A meteor, from outer space, just meandered into our Earth’s atmosphere — over Russia — without anybody knowing that it was coming.

I’m not going to pretend that I know absolutely anything about outer space, but doesn’t that strike anybody else as a little odd? I can look on right now and see what the hour-by-hour weather is going to be like on March 19, and yet, one day earlier, nobody knew that a freaking meteor was going to enter out atmosphere?

For crying out loud, the word METEOR is in their freaking job description! It’s “meteorologist!” So, when there is a meteor on its way, shouldn’t they be all over that? It’s a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity! Where the hell were you guys?

Although, on second thought, maybe it was a good thing that nobody knew. Whenever meteorologists predict that we’re going to get a foot of snow, people panic. Gas station lines become two miles long. Walmarts become sanctuaries. People lock themselves in their fallout shelters for 35 years with Christopher Walken (or is that a movie?)

So if the Russian people knew that a meteor was coming, it would have been pure and utter chaos. I can’t even begin to imagine it. In all seriousness, I’m not saying that Russia would have been pure anarchy — although, who knows, it might have — but at the very least, nobody would have left their home that day.

But the point is that this was completely unprecedented. We’ve had sparkles of meteor particles shower our Earth before, but we’ve yet to have a meteor of this stature just come and hang out in our atmosphere.

Just take a look at this bad boy!

That was footage captured by a Russian on their car’s dashboard camera while he was rushing home from work.

First of all, if this meteor exposed anything — other than how badly meteorologists missed this — it’s that dashboard cameras are a thing.  Why is Russia so ahead of the game? Why aren’t dashboard cameras in American cars?

If American vehicles carried such a camera, it would be a goldmine of footage. Not just for YouTube, but for other important situations, such as motor vehicle accidents. No more “he said, she said,” during a traffic dispute, let’s just go to the camera!

Red light cameras would be nonexistent also, and dashboard camera would be able to capture potential police corruption. You didn’t deserve that ticket, you say? Let’s check the tape!

Damn it, Obama, get on this shit!

My second gripe I have about this meteor is the fact that I have to keep referencing it as “the meteor.” We name hurricanes, and we name blizzards, but we can’t name meteors? A meteor is an actual celestial object. It makes sense to give it a name. It has a physical body.

My final gripe is why the person who is driving that car in that video did not freak out anymore than he did. You can hear him speak during the latter part of the video, but it sound like he is commenting with the same air one would comment about seeing an airplane in the sky. But instead of saying, “oh, look an airplane,” he said, “Oh look, a meteor.”

If it was me, and I saw that, I would be screaming. I’d be yelling obscenities. At the very least, I would slightly veer off of the road. This guy somehow managed to maintain pristine driving abilities. Had this guy been taking his road test at the time of that meteor crossing, he would have passed flawlessly.

Lastly, if it was me, I wouldn’t have thought it was a meteor. I would have assumed a nuclear missile. Especially since North Korea’s nuclear program has been in the news lately. Had I seen that bright light streak across the sky, I would have prepared myself to be decimated in 10 seconds because of a fiery explosion.

And yet, amazingly, nobody died in this incident. A 10,000 ton meteor comes directly for Earth traveling 33,000 miles-per-hour, exploding with the force of 20 atomic bombs, and nobody dies. However, 1,500 people were injured — two of them seriously (pussies!) But apparently, according to people who are a lot smarter than me, the Earth’s atmosphere absorbed the majority of the meteor’s energy.

In case you’re scoring at home, NASA said that the fireball was the largest reported since 1908, when a meteor hit Tunguska, Siberia, and flattened an estimated 80 million trees. I guess that means no people died, because you’d think that would be the top story moreso than trees. Although, I don’t know about you guys, but I’d gladly exchange a few people in our world if it meant saving a couple of trees.

So, that’s pretty much all there is to it. At the end of the day, it was just another meteor shower. No biggie.

But I guess there’s one good thing that came out of all this.

It took the Harlem Shake out of the news.

Is Taylor Swift wearing out her welcome?

Yesterday I realized that there was a new Taylor Swift controversy that I had yet to have been made aware of. And while it feels like there is new controversy surrounding Tay-Tay every couple of weeks, it doesn’t take a moron to figure out that 99% of them are media-contrived.

However, this new one is so amusing that I couldn’t possibly not talk about it.

As you all remember, Taylor Swift opened up the Grammys last Sunday with an Alice in Wonderland-like performance of her hit single, “We are Never Ever Getting Back Together.”

The song has been kind of overplayed recently, but, traditionally, artists perform the song during the Grammys that they are nominated for. I’m sure she would have loved to sing something else, but this was the song that was nominated, and she sang it. No big deal.

The song, hailed as a “breakup jam” for obvious reasons, brought about mass media speculation of its target, which was concluded to be Jake Gyllenhaal, one of Taylor’s ex-beaus. However, since Jake, she has had other ex-beaus.

Which brings me to this new controversy.

During the “talking part” of the song, where Taylor responds to the begging of her ex-boyfriend to take her back, she allegedly — and again, this is pure speculation on the media — spoke that part in a British accent. The reason? As a means of payback towards her latest ex, Harry Styles, of the British boy band One Direction.

Before I delve any further, why don’t you see for yourself (skip to 2:05).

Obviously it is hysterical that this is even being discussed to begin with. But let’s get past that.

I think it’s way to inconclusive to determine if she was in fact speaking in an accent. I mean, if she was, then it was a pretty terrible English accent. In my expert opinion — and I do study linguistics in my spare time — I think Taylor was just trying to sound playful and goofy. I don’t think there was any other ulterior motive. But we’ll never know.

The point is, all of these shenanigans and “controversies” have led to a bigger issue — Has Taylor Swift worn out her welcome? Or rather, has she become, dare I say it — annoying?

I’ve seen a lot of different blog posts, Tweets and other articles labeling Taylor as “immature.”

The thing that one has to appreciate about Taylor is that she sings about the things that she knows. She’s in her early-20s, and thus, is it really that immature for her to be singing about boy troubles? Do we not all know girls in their early 20s — or older — who post ad nauseam on Facebook about the very same thing?

I mean, just take a look at the comments section of the link I posted — it’s filled with haters. Some of them even went as far as saying that Taylor Swift does not have a good singing voice, which I think is absurd.

You do not need to have a booming voice like Adele to be a good singer. Sure, in the vocal power scale, Taylor is limited. No question. But as far as vocal range in tone and melody, I think there are extremely few singers in the business today that could match her in that regard. Not to mention that she is extremely consistent, and sounds as good live as she does recorded.

That being said, I do think it would behoove Taylor a little bit to take a step back, and maybe try to write and record some songs that are a little more ambiguous. Some of her most recent songs are just a little too obvious that they are revenge songs.

But again, she really has no control over what songs become extremely popular. If “We are Never Ever Getting Back Together” is going to reach #1 on the Billboard charts, then why the hell shouldn’t she sing it at the Grammys?

Taylor has 24 million Twitter followers, and her most recent album, Red, has already gone platinum four times. So to me, that clearly shows that she is still highly respected and appreciated for her artistry.

So I don’t really think of her as immature. I just think of her as a 23-year-old. Her target demographic is girls in the age range of 12-22, and I think it’s safe to say that they still adore her. All the haters in their late-20s are just envious.

Plus, anybody who thinks she lacks maturity clearly didn’t see her performance of “Ronan,” the song she wrote about a 4-year-old boy who died of cancer:

She wrote this song after she learned about the boy’s death through his mother’s blog, then contacted the mother stating her intentions of dedicating a song to her late son. After debuting the song during NBC’s Stand up to Cancer telethon, she put it on iTunes, and all proceeds went to cancer research.

Plus she didn’t even put the track on her latest album, because she didn’t want to profit off of it commercially. So I don’t really see how somebody who does that can be labeled as immature.

To wrap this up, I think Taylor should probably consider returning back to her fun, poppy songs like “You Belong With Me” and take a little hiatus from break-up songs, just to silence the haters. And maybe she should also stop dating for a few months.

But to act like she’s not a refreshing musical talent and a good role model  — in today’s era of awful female celebrities like Lindsay Lohan and Kim Kardashian, no less — is nonsense.

Taylor, just keep doing your thing, girl.

I got your back.

Attention celebrities: Please stop brutally assaulting your hot wives and/or girlfriends

I really don’t know what the hell is wrong with some people. It may be that Chris Brown started a popular trend — savagely beating your attractive girlfriend and/or wife. By beating Rihanna to a bloody pulp, it appears that Brown made it “cool” to be a wife-beater. That’s the only explanation I can think of, at least.

I say this because it appears to have become a recent trend.

You have Oscar Pistorius, who as you all know, took it one step further and said, “Why beat my girlfriend when I can actually murder her?”

I’ve already touched on this recently, but the new news from this case is that Pistorius is denying that he willfully killed his girlfriend, Reeva Steenkamp, a South African model.

A lot of things bother me about that article, both in its details and its presentation. And I’m not picking on ABCNews  — whenever this story is publicized by any outlet, the news is that Pistorius “murdered his girlfriend.” They don’t even mention her name in this article until the sixth paragraph. That’s a huge insult to the memory of this female victim.

But anyway, Pistorius is not denying that he fired the bullets that ended Steenkamp’s life, but he is alleging that he had no intention of murdering her. That distinction is obviously the difference between first and second or third-degree murder, and also the difference between a lifetime in jail or a few years in jail.

Apparently Pistorius’s excuse is that he thought he heard an intruder, became terrified, and without putting on his prosthetic legs, began shooting, having believed that Steenkamp was asleep in bed.

Yeah, he’s really going to milk the prosthetic leg angle, isn’t he? If he really wants to gain the sympathy of the jury, he should crawl from the defendant’s booth to the witness stand during his murder trial.

The crazy thing about this — and this is a Weinblog exclusive (not really) — is that Pistorius, during a New York Times interview in January, said that he both owned a gun and lived in fear of one day being burglarized. Here are a couple of clips from that article:

…he mentioned that a security alarm in the house had gone off the previous night, and he had grabbed his gun and tiptoed downstairs. (It turned out to be nothing.)

“We should go to the range,” he said. He fetched his 9-millimeter handgun and two boxes of ammunition. We got back in the car and drove to a nearby firing range, where he instructed me on proper technique. Pistorius was a good coach. A couple of my shots got close to the bull’s-eye, which delighted him. “Maybe you should do this more,” he said. “If you practiced, I think you could be pretty deadly.” I asked him how often he came to the range. “Just sometimes when I can’t sleep,” he said.

Watch this scumbag get off on the charges. Just watch. But anyway, the point I want to emphasize here is that throughout all of this, he was a lucky bastard to be dating somebody as beautiful as Reeva Steenkamp.

Normal, average, two-legged men can only dream of dating a woman who looks anything like this. I’m thrilled when I hook up with a girl who is a 7 on the “looks scale,” but if I actually had the opportunity to date a supermodel, then I assure you I would not let that opportunity go to waste. And I certainly would not take her for granted.

I’d write her symphonies. I’d make her breakfast in bed during dinner time. I’d travel the world so I could find and hand-deliver her actual birthstone.

I certainly would not harm her in any way, let alone kill her.

But Oscar Pistorius is not alone in his brutality.

Earlier today, CBS News anchor Rob Morrison was arrested after police say he choked his wife in his Connecticut home. He has since been hit with a felony charge of second-degree strangulation, which, until this moment, I did not know could be a charge.

His wife, Ashley Morrison, is a fellow anchor. Take a look at her:


Stop the madness.

It is the American Dream for every man — every man — to make a little bit of money, be able to support themselves, and one day marry a hot girl. That’s all we strive for. To be able to have a hot woman by your side at all times, who only wants to have sex with you and nobody else, is our mission in life.

To be able to walk into a party with the hottest girl in the room, and to tell everyone else that she is “your wife,” is the endgame. After that, it’s okay to lose some of your motivation in life. Maybe you’ll become a little chubby. Maybe your work performance will decline a bit.

That’s fine. It’s expected, even understandable.

But please, for the love of God, don’t ever resort to physically hurting these fine specimens. The fact that they chose you should be something that you are forever indebted to. So how can you repay them in such a way?

Again, it all dates back to Chris Brown. By beating Rihanna to a pulp, he screwed up so royally, so profoundly, that he inadvertently paved the way for other less-famous men to beat their wives, and be able to have the excuse, “Well, at least I didn’t do what Chris Brown did.”

And the fact that Rihanna actually returned to Chris Brown only validates these violent rationalizations.

Take it from me, people. The only “hitting” men should be doing with females — especially hot females — is drunkenly and embarrassingly hitting on them at bars, only to fail miserably.

At least in those cases I keep my dignity.