Austerican

An ode to our favourite sarcastic narrator on television:

When I went shopping during my lunch break to get some essentials in preparation for the hurricane coming our way, they were already sold out of flashlights and batteries. The cashier said that when she got there at 6am, lines were backed up down the aisles. Keep in mind, this was a Friday morning, with the hurricane projected to hit (at that time) on Tuesday.

Emma’s never been through a hurricane. As such, she’s a little nervous. Given the hysteria that surrounds us, I don’t really blame her.

The reaction in Baton Rouge now is largely influenced by what happened after Katrina. While New Orleans was literally drowning, Baton Rouge was drowning in people. Hearing that the population doubled overnight does nothing to explain walking into grocery stores and finding shelf after shelf bare or drive-thru places running out of food and closing for days. At the same time people were driving around, navigating dense traffic through intersections without working lights and discovering this, they began to realize that all of the gas stations were closed, too.

We remember Katrina. That is why people are a little crazy this time around. We remember Fats Domino and his family moving in with then-LSU quarterback JaMarcus Russell and his roommate, spending a couple of days in their dorm. We remember countless other friends and family welcoming in and taking care of strangers for over a year.

We remember watching our neighbors starving and dying, hearing about friends who drove down to try to help being turned away, entire trucks of water rejected because they didn’t follow proper procedures. We remember a city we all love being left to fall in ruins, its people sentenced to death for nothing more than not being able to get out of town.

In the 25 years I’ve lived here, Baton Rouge itself has never been terribly impacted by the wind and water, the destructive impact of a hurricane. Katrina hit our hearts, it hit our families, it hit our community. Regardless of what the government is saying it will do, we all know that we have to take care of ourselves first, and each other. No one else is coming. Even if they do come, they’ll be Blackwater employees, and it won’t be pretty.

When a friend left her job yesterday afternoon, she and her colleagues said farewell with the full expectation that they might never see each other again. For those that can’t afford to replace the lost wages, housing, and personal possessions with the $800-$2000 from FEMA, the only option is to stay wherever that government evacuation bus took them.

Emma’s scared because she remembers, too. She has seen the slow recovery of New Orleans up close in the years since Katrina. She has seen how little people care.

I’m not too worried about flooding or power outages in the next few days. We’ve got enough food and water to get through. But we’re both preparing for the worst.

This is supposed to be the “liberal” choice for senator in my state. I’m disgusted.

The greatest protesters in the history of history (yes I include Ghandi in that) mock Fox “reporter.” This may be the single dumbest person on this network. Somehow this putz has out “doocy’d” Steve Doocy. I hadn’t thought it was possible.

Apparently they do believe in freedom of speech and what they have to say is “FUCK YOU FOX so called news.”

For any Australians, Fox news is what we would get if Pauline Hanson owned a TV station.

Last week I saw a trailer for The Express, an inspirational football movie. In it, a shot of a confederate flag flowing in the breeze helps set the scene. It tells us that this is a story about another time, where racism was open and overpowering.

Go to a game at the home of the National Champion LSU Tigers sometime.

Luckily, there’s enough racism to go around:

Illegal Immigrants. Illegal Immigrants. Illegal Immigrants.

Let’s pretend that episode 5 didn’t happen. I was busy at Jazzercise. Think of it like Rocky V. And IV.

And III. In fact, can we just pretend that Sylvester Stallone never happened at all? I know the original Rocky was good. I loved Rambo: First Blood, Part II. But I’m not sure that everything else - you know, the way he still exists and tries to pretend to act and stuff - I’m just not sure it was worth all that.

Goattee Joe calls out The Gay Mormon Keith right from the get-go. It’s on?

Chris Marsh returns wearing a Viking Heidi Hat complete with horns and disco ball breastplates. He promptly introduces the models for this week’s challenge. Drag queens emerge in all their chiffon and sequin glory.

Most of them look more feminine than that chick from Supersize She. And she’s really a girl. Not that I’ve confirmed it myself or anything.

PS Why do they keep referring to them as girls, even when they’re dressed as men?

Farrah Moans looks like Marilyn Monroe.
           - Kenley, on her Drag Queen

Not only do I no longer find Kenley attractive in any way, there’s an increasing level of animosity because of statements like this.

Quiet front-runner Leanne describes Blayne as "annoying-licious." She goes further, saying that if she hears -licious one more time, "I’m gonna barf. Then I guess I’ll be barf-licious.”

Suede gets personal, telling us about Suede’s dead grandfather’s spirit. Then Suede reminds us that Suede’s grandfather is dead. Don’t care. Next!

Kenley’s dress looks silver, cheap, and poorly constructed. Blayne and Jerrell get through without doing anything special. Leathah Lady survives despite sending a drag queen down the runway wearing a dress inspired by Couch Funeral Couture.

Hedda Lettuce sells Suede’s look, lucky for Suede. Korto’s flame job dress on the fat guy is pretty cool. As is Goattee Joe’s pink sequined sailor catsuit, which ends up winning. One great feature of the pink sailor suit, according to RuPaul (I’m not kidding) was that he took "hiding the candy" into consideration.

Leanne’s look is awesome and futuristic. My choice, though, is Terri’s work on Acid Daddy. That crazy kabuki diva was a cross-dressed, contemporary update on Bootsy Collins.

Up for elimination are The Gay Mormon and Daniel. Keith’s fringe-work on Sherry Vine inspires me to jot "meh" in my notebook. Daniel argues too much over his safe and boring cocktail dress for Anita Greencard.

Did the dingo eat your baby, mate?
    -RuPaul to Daniel, ending all argument

Maybe the dingo ate his baby, indeed. Auf Wiedersehen, Daniel.

After seeing the clip of his interview on FoxProp, Ernest Borgnine jumped to the front of the line of Real American Heroes:

Though he hasn’t officially worked in the White house - at least, not since he gained a reputation as “Dan Quayle’s Brain” - Bill Kristol has vociferously propagated the administration’s Iraq War policy, which he helped craft. Oh, plus he was paid $100,000 as an advisor for Enron. You know, that company where people lost their retirement accounts.

When I was directed by my Google News page to his latest Op-Ed Column, I knew he was next in the series. Bill Kristol is the lyingest kind of liar. He’s the kind of man who says, “Don’t you know who I am?” when caught with a tranny hooker doing lines of coke and acting out a self-hating, degrading ritual I’d rather not describe in detail.

She’s here. She eats buildings or something. Deal with it.