‘Set to Become World’s Most Powerful Woman?’

Oh Geez, with that headline, it has to be another story about Hillary Clinton, thought I.

She’s always in the third world, doing Secretary of State stuff, trying to keep her husband away from soggy young female flood victims, and quietly sourcing sweatshop labor for her 2012 presidential run. Hillary has power, right?

Then I thought, nah, maybe the story is about Michelle Obama – she’s set to become the world’s most powerful woman. Why not? Proximity to the Oval Office means power in Washington, D.C. And Michelle trumps that. She has unlimited access to the West Wing and the Presidential Johnson. German Chancellor Angela Merkel can’t make these claims.

Or, I thought, perhaps the story was about Jasmine Villegas who, OMG, is the opening act for Justin Bieber (squeal), has kissed him in the backseat (shriek) and, DOUBLE OMG, is rumored to have proof that Bieber has no wiener (anyone surprised?). Baby baby baby dwarf boy Bieber apparently may give Jasmine half of his pop kingdom if she won’t tell his new friends, the Hooters girls, that there is no Bieber Wiener.

But even that would not give her more power than omnipresent ginormous global megaslut Lady Gaga, who recently: 1) made the shock announcement that she is in favor of gays in the military, 2) went on the MTV awards with a T-bone in her rump roast; and 3) dressed like Hillary the Dominatrix when she and her Mom visited a nursing home. It all makes for awesome tweenybopper power.

Even so, realistically, the world’s soon-to-be most powerful woman has to be Oprah Winfrey, right? She WAS the globe’s most powerful woman, thanks to her TV empire and top-secret access to the Presidential Johnson (sorry Michelle).

Of late, she’s had ratings problems and lost her network mojo. But get ready. In December, John Travolta is flying Oprah to Australia where we believe he will anoint her OprahXenu, Qantas Queen of Scientology (and the Daytime Demographics, women 25-59). Now that is serious power, folks, what with female buying power, volcanoes and Tom Cruise.

But incredibly, even unbelievably, the news story that featured the headline above was not about Hillary, Michelle, Jasmine, OprahXenu, or Gagaho.

It was about about Dilma Rousseff who (no joke), is a former resistance leader, who was tortured, and who, at 63, is expected to be elected next week to head Brazil’s 200 million people.

Without the benefit of “Hillary in 2012” signs, a meat dress, Presidential Johnson, Qantas, MTV or a cult? You mean these things aren’t what real power is about?

Go figger.

Blowin’ in the wind, and missing thunder boomers

I thought it was a dog. Or a kid. It just blasted across the road, right to left. The car in front had to slam on its brakes to miss it.

Turns out, it was a big box moving at high velocity, powered by blustery winds. It reminded me of one of the things that I really miss about Oklahoma — thunderstorms.

Serious thunderstorms.

Auckland is an isthmus, about 12 miles wide. So even when we have the “fixins” for a proper thunderstorm, it never happens. Maybe we get a few thunder claps. Some wee hailstones. Even a mini-tornado that cuts a three-foot swathe in Nowheresville before blowing out to sea. Woopie.

Absolutely nothing like Oklahoma thunderstorms. Those were mothers.

Good ones would turn the day into night by mid-afternoon. The clouds would get all mean looking. Grey. Then coal black. Dark, menacing green if there was major hail coming. But the cloud color wasn’t the deal for me. Thunder was my deal.

Craaak Craaak Craaak Craaak CraaakaCraaaak. KABOOOOOOOOOOOM… OOOOOOOOM… OOOOOOOOM!

Damn right!

And it would go on and on. For hours. Incredible light shows – multiple fingers of lightning going sideways. Hundreds of them. And then a thick, bright, savage bolt into the ground.

One, one thousand, two one thousand, three one thousand… Every second that passed before you heard the boom represented a mile from where the lightning hit. Or so they said.

Strangely, I don’t think I ever saw lightning strike near me in Tornado Alley, Oklahoma. That happened in the Rockies.

The cut-throat trout were biting, so who cared about a little weather. Until I happened to look up exactly when lightning hit a big tree. The water inside vaporized, and the tree went off like a bomb. Impressive as all get out. And ‘get out’ was exactly what we did.

Maybe the thunder I’ve experienced was loudest in Singapore. It didn’t happen that much, but when it did, the way the noise bounced from highrise to highrise seemed to amplify it. Maybe it was louder than in Oklahoma.

But in Singapore, like here in Auckland, thunderstorms just never lasted. Pity.

When I was young, even though God and I were not on speaking terms, I did get it. That His power was immense. A single thunderstorm had more power than how many nukes? I used to know that. Serious power, showcased in thunderstorms that lasted for days in the Spring and Fall. Mother Nature’s version of shock and awe.

Man, I miss that.

Gaga, Cher, Justin at Meat TV Awards

Let’s see. What’s in entertainment news?

Lady Gaga contracts hoof and mouth disease at MTV awards. She is featured in a meat dress that showcases her rump roast, and glams it up with armadillo high heels featuring 12-inch stilettos. Slaughterhouse meets road kill fashion. Yummm.

Cher, at 64, wears the same Fredericks of Hollywood see-through black body stocking that she made infamous in 1989 when singing “If I Could Turn Back Time.” She hugs Gaga’s meat and boasts that ex-daughter-Chastity-turned-son Chaz recently had species re-assignment surgery and is fantastically happy as a newt.

Justin “Mini MTV” Bieber was keen to prove he’s now a manly teenage stud muffin but entered wearing his Mommy’s big ol’lady sunglasses. On stage he stood nearly as tall as Gaga’s shoes and literally towered over his dance partners, who were specially recruited from Miss Muffet’s preschool. Sadly, his carefully choreographed “Big Hunk Justin” branding campaign stumbled when Rihanna bitch slapped him backstage and he cried.

Jane Fonda, 72, not at MTV but saturating the airwaves nonetheless, is once again all Spandexed up. She’s leading the nation’s aging Baby Boomers into a new era of fitness, facelifts and flashy mobility scooters. Jane tried to get Gaga and Cher on her exercise video, but health officials worried that the raw meat and preservatives would react, sending the wrong message – Ewww – to health conscious seniors.

And critics say the internet is offensive…

Questions for your 50s: Where are the car keys? Isn’t he dead yet?

George Clooney just turned 50. I hate him. He still looks like, well, himself. Me and my old friends, not so much. Except mebbe in our minds.

That was recently brought home to a tall, still-studly buddy of mine. He was at a social function when a pretty high school girl offered him her chair so he could sit down. Sad? It was way worse than sad. He initially thought she was flirting with him.

My “senior awakening” was internet related. I heard that there WAS an internet. Kidding. But I really was stunned when I had to click TWICE on drop-down menus to get to 1956, the year I was born and when gravity was invented.

Being mid-50s means my new car will probably outlast me. I will soon qualify for Denny’s Senior menu. And when I look in the mirror, I see … George Clooney… Except he now looks just like my grandpa.


I didn’t expect my 50’s to be an age of exploration – exploring the room I just left for clues … what exactly did I just forget to remember. Car keys? Fire extinguisher? No. 1 son?

Being in my mid-50s means my body and brain are changing. I now like Advil way better than M&Ms. Putting milk in my innards is like dropping a Mentos into a Diet Coke. And my memory loss mantra is “Denny Crane, Mad Cow.”

But lately, what has annoyed me most is not knowing who is dead and who isn’t.

Sure, I know which family members are breathing and which have karked it. Mainly. But when I’m thinking about a major sports star or actor from my youth, I never really know whether they still have a pulse. Usually, if I think they are are dead, they ain’t, and vice-versa.

I was at the grocery store and learned that Michael Douglas has throat cancer. That’s sad, but way better than being dead, which is what I thought he was. In fact, his DAD is still alive. Kirk is now 93.

Wonder if he says “I am Spartacus. Now where are my chariot keys?” Or just, “Denny Crane. Mad Cow.”

Try to relax – ignore the al-Qaeda girdle monkey terrorists

Feeling a bit on edge?

Not to worry. Have a warm cup of coco, put your feet up, and have a nice, relaxing read about current events. Then pack your guns and children in the sports utility vehicle and head to the bunker in South Dakota because of:


The escalating arms race always worries us, so we twitched over this media headline – ‘Are Taliban training monkeys to kill US troops?’ and the photo of perhaps the ultimate guerrilla warrior. We broke out in a cold sweat when a likely al-Qaeda operative was caught smuggling 18 monkeys in a girdle.

If indeed the six-inch-long girdle monkeys were being trained by al-Qaeda, and if this captured operative is part of a force of, say, 10 million smugglers, key media speculate there are potentially 180 million terrorist monkeys in training at this very minute. Think of the potential carnage. And the banana shortage.


The global recession means that, tragically, even Hollywood A-listers (including Tom Cruise) don’t have the money to buy alligator high heels. People in the illegal alligator farming business are dumping young alligators into the streets. This alligator tsunami has already hit New York, Chicago, Brockton, MA, and the English Channel.

While the machine-gunning al-Qaeda girdle monkeys will clearly destroy the world, there are positive signs that the alligator tsunami may not. The Chicago alligator fled from an approaching duck (who may or may not have been armed… who knows what a duck is packing below the water line?). The London gator turned out to be a piece of wood which, while being far less lethal, still prompted the French to surrender.

Killer Zombi Ant Fungus

A fungus has taken over the bodies and minds of ants. Sure, this happened 48 million years ago. But if you need proof that the zombi ant fungus is still evolving and a direct threat to mankind, turn on any reality television show or visit the White House.

Imminent global nuclear war

Not satisfied with launching their strategic nuclear donkey, the Soviets are now providing fuel rods to Iran’s Bushehr nuclear plant on the Persian Gulf.

Despite assurances from the US intelligence community that the Iranians are still at least a year away from being able to create a nuclear bomb, the United Nations Security Council has called an emergency session, the 900th one this month.

We will deliver more urgent end-of-the-world news when we arrive at your bunker in South Dakota. We’ll leave as soon as we can get our next generation, ANTI al-Qaeda killer midget monkeys into our girdle. They may be our only chance to survive.

Shocking Gallup Poll Leads Rupert Murdock to Lady Gaga’s Thighs

A shocking Gallup poll shows that only 25% of Americans have a “great deal” or “quite a lot” of confidence in newspaper or television news, a 50% drop since 1995.

Young Americans are now getting most of their “trusted” news from Facebook and celebrity tattoos.

Young people – defined as the “21’s”, eg younger than 21, having at least 21 sexual partners and STDs, or owning at least 21 cell phones – have the lowest trust and attention span.

Newspaper readership among the 21’s has reached rock bottom. In fact, only 3% of 21’s have “read or come in contact with” a printed newspaper in the previous 12 months.

“I picked up a free newspaper once to wipe a Coke Zero spill off my iPad, and I got ink on my fingers. Ink! It was like, ewww, my iPad!” said one of those surveyed.

Rupert Murdoch, the 900-year-old owner of most of the world’s bankrupt newspapers, dismissed the Gallup research as “bobby socks and poppycock”.

“Our research shows that most young people, 900 percent I think, trust me and my newspapers, and they absolutely plan to *buy my newspapers.”

* at least once before they die, possibly wrapping takeaway fish and chips

To increase trust and readership in the 21’s demographic, Murdoch is negotiating with Lady Gaga over rights to her thighs.

“The negotiations include all areas in close proximity to her girly bits, which are exposed to billions of young people every day through actual physical contact and, to a lesser extent, the global media.

“There are some formatting issues, and we’ll have to limit stories to 3-5 words, but we’re confident the ‘Gaga medium’ will tap into the lucrative 21’s demographic,” said a Murdoch spokeswoman, adding that the 21’s account for 99% of Apple sales, despite none of them having an actual job.

Lady Gaga 7-day Scandal Forecast – Doing Everything Slutty Everywhere

Hyperbolic megastar Lady Gaga had a lazy weekend, leading at Lollapalooza, pipping Usain Bolt at the tape in Stockholm, holing out ahead of Tiger at Bridgestone, saving mankind by repelling the solar tsunami and hatching baby owlettes live at the Owl Box.

“I so wanted to sunbathe with Michelle Obama in Spain and expose my vagina on WikiLeaks, but I just couldn’t tear myself away from the baby owls. I was in an egg myself once, and I still love to cover my Lady Bits with feathers.”

Gaga’s 7-day media forecast includes:

– birthing Motorola’s new Droid 2 cellphone live on CNN and GagaNet (Parental discretion advised).

– leading a “save the penguins” global enviro-event live on the massive ice chunk that has broken away from Greenland, at Gaga’s request.

– headlining the live re-enactment of Chelsea and Marc Clinton’s wedding.

– visiting Hannah Montana tryouts in 50 states to coach 5- to 7-year old girls on make-up, underwear and being true to their own tri-sexuality.

– being appointed the new CEO of HP, and immediately announcing a new corporate policy on silicone top-ups and sexual harassment of men, women and owls.

– shockingly quitting HP to accept the role as White House Chief Adviser on Economics (“I believe that being true to yourself will turn our nation’s economy around – that and miles of latex and my uber virginity”).

– chairing the Iranian Revolutionary Council and launching her new line of see-through nuclear gaga-burqas.

– saving thousands of fans trapped by floods in Pakistan, and releasing her new “Pash me in Paki” CD.

– hosting the Academy Awards, Emmies, Razzies, Lezzies, Super Bowl, World Series and Nobel Peace Prize events.

– single handedly preventing the Earth from falling off its axis and ending life as we know it.

– bringing Michael Jackson back from the dead.

“I hope my fans can forgive me for taking it easy this week. Birthing the owls was so emotional that I need to recharge, which is why the sun is having another solar tsu-gaga-nami in my vagina.”