Three things in the news this week that are still worse than the Cardinals
3) The Krispy Kreme triple cheeseburger. People, when the rest of the world talks about “American exceptionalism,” they’re not saying it as a compliment. They’re talking about things like this:
That’s three patties of charbroiled factory-farm cruelty between innertubes of sugar and refined flour, not because it tastes good but because we can, all dreamed up by a woman who fantasizes about plantation-themed weddings. It’s gross, by any measure, from the cardiac to the psychospiritual. This is enough worse than the Cardinals that John Mozeliak could spend $250 million to sign Jeff Suppan and still not match the pointless excess consumption represented by this single food item.
2) Rihanna’s dress. The guy who designed Rihanna’s gown for the Council of Fashion Designers of America’s awards ceremony the other night said this about it: “The dress is just fishnet and crystals and a couple of fingers crossed.” Color me intrigued! Thing is, the dress is already completely transparent (NSFW, depending on where you W), so as long as she’s clutching that stole in front of her ladyparts, the crossed fingers really just represent the difference between an R-rated movie on VHS on your old TV and the same movie in HD on your flatscreen. Furthermore, and I say this as an Our-Bodies-Ourselves feminist who vociferously defends every woman’s right to wear whatever she wants, it’s fugly, and it seems to me that if you’re going to plaster 230,000 Swarovski crystals on your hide with no requirement that they cover anything up, then they should at least spell out “Eff you, Chris Brown” in script font or something. This is enough worse than the Cardinals that the entire pitching staff could replace their fraudulent titanium power necklaces with Swarovski chokers and the dress would still have a slight edge.
1) Todd Starnes’ new book, God Less America. Mr. Starnes is on Fox News, so I was aware of him in the way I’m aware of salmonella (I know they exist and I’m extremely vigilant about keeping them out of my home), but then my good friend Edwin sent me this image of the first page of his new book, and I think you’ll agree that it makes the opening of The Da Vinci Code look like “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times” by comparison (click to embiggen):
Obviously the end of that thought is “chicken soup,” but you guessed that already; it’s only a shame that the picture cuts off before it gets to the sentence “It was a time when Doobie was a brother and hip-hop was something a bunny rabbit did.” I am not making this up. This is so much worse than the Cardinals that Jason Motte could add seven more inches to his beard, Jhonny Peralta could hit into four consecutive triple plays, Mike Matheny could name Daniel Descalso as the new hitting coach, and Ballpark Village could be revealed as a mafia-funded project made entirely of the sawdust of the team’s lucky 2013 bats, and it would STILL be worse than the Cardinals.
And they’re pretty awful.