The Life Psychotic with Soo

As you all know, I is a po' college stoodent. I am currently frying my brain on linear programming in Algebra being taught by the only high school math teacher I've ever known a pretty girl to go all mushy over. I am also enjoying a particularly challenging 200-level psychology class with a professor who prefers to brew his own beer and brag about it on his website.

It's the psychology class I would like to share with you all today. Recently, I had to take a series of personality quizzes, and was mostly not surprised to see the results. Some of the tests were terribly funny in scope, such as the Star Wars twins test or the procrastinator's test which was abridged to just 5 minutes. There were tests to determine if therapy was in your future or if you were the office suck-up. I enjoyed looking over the tests, and think you might as well.

Keep in mind, some of these sites you may have to register to use, but all offer some free tests and results. Some of those results are partials, requiring a payment for the complete readout. I don't recommend paying anyone for the full results, unless you're just that interested.

Feel free to clicky from the side bar. Enjoy, and don't forget to check back with me--I'm looking for another Grand Moff Tarkin so we can go blow up planets together!

Shoot-out at the BBC Corral

Saturday night, I was very excited to see a concert starring Robbie Williams on BBCA. I am a fan, and I thought the children would enjoy his show. He has great energy, and as long as they blur out the naughty bits when he invariably drops his trousers, the kids were going to like it.

Unfortunately, at the first commercial break, we changed the channel. At approximately 8:10 PM, they showed a commercial for a series shown on BBCA that contained a graphic (and noisy) clip of two people in the throes of passion. I was more disappointed than shocked, since I had given up watching Cash in the Attic (an antiques auction show aired just before lunch every day) because of commercials similar to the one shown during the concert.

Sunday, I emailed BBCA to complain about the salacious content of the commercials shown prior to 9 PM. I pointed out that they were inappropriate for children during family-friendly programming.

Today, I got this letter(I added the bold for emphasis):

Thank you for taking the time to contact us, regarding BBC America's
on-air promos. Please understand that BBC America is a digital cable
channel programmed exclusively for adults. We do not broadcast
children's programming, nor conduct any marketing efforts to attract
children.

However, please rest assured that BBC America takes the opinions of
viewers, such as yourself, very seriously, and as such, we will
forward your remarks on to the appropriate department(s).

We thank you again for your comments.

Regards,

Barbara

Viewer Relations
BBC America


What I don't understand is this:

Why does BBCA discriminate against adults with children?

Are we not worth the effort to cultivate as loyal viewers? In recent months other family-friendly reruns such as Ballykissangel and Monarch of the Glen, have been cast aside in favor of edgier programming. They now offer new shows such as Mile High, which details the sordid lives of the randiest flight crew to ever fly the friendly skies, and No Angels, which details the sordid lives of randy nurses of a hospital who also spend a lot of time drinking and fist-fighting in uniform.

The graphic commercials for those programs and others like them are littered throughout the day's programming. One morning during a home-decorating show, I had to explain to my 10-year-old why two grown men would be together and naked on an otherwise empty airplane thanks to a commercial for Mile High. I've also had to explain the meaning behind the line: "I wouldn't have cared if you'd bagged the entire football league, just not him." (from Footballers Wives, shown during Cash in the Attic)

Shock value appears to be the main concern of the programmers at BBCA. This is unfortunate because there is a massive potential market being swept aside, nay scoffed, by the programmers at BBCAmerica.

Until changes are made, I will be blocking BBCAmerica from my children's access, and I urge you to do the same. If you choose to block the channel, please email BBCA and explain why. Perhaps if more people complained of the bad timing of these commercials, perhaps BBCAmerica will begin to show respect to the American family by replacing these commercials with edited versions containing less sex and violence.

Aw, mom! Do I have to?

I was listening to the radio this morning, and I heard an advert for a national restaurant chain. I've never been there, but Mister (the Elitist City Dweller) had been, and he says it's "okay." The advert goes on a bit, and then it ends with this stunning slogan:

"Carabbas Italian Grill: Where People Are Our Specialty."



I've got one word for that:

Ew.

Some days, you just can't get rid of a bomb!

The Boy is having some cosmetic dentistry adventures.

The backstory is that when he was a baby, he was a human garbage disposal. In trying to eat everything he could get into his mouth, he discovered lemons, and liked them so much, he always wanted lemon slices when we were having dinner out. It continues to this day, the eating like a refugee at the buffet and his love of lemons.

When his adult teeth started growing in, they were an odd tan color, with the tips of his top two teeth a darker tan color. His first dentist told us the enamel was damaged, but he was too young to do anything about it, except stop feeding him those damn lemons.

Six years later and a new dentist, who agrees the enamel is damaged, but there's this new product out, let's give that a try. So he makes a "partial" mouth tray for just his top teeth (half price!) and sold us a "touch-up" kit of tooth whitener plus "mineral restorative." Total savings: $400.

Four weeks later, and his teeth are almost pearly. Time to visit the dentist for an update. The darker tan spots are now light tans spots, and the bland tan on the rest of the teeth is gone. The shine is back as well.

So the dentist decides he wants to try to buff those stubborn spots off. While he chats with his assistant, The Boy whispers to me, "They aren't going to use sandpaper, are they?"

I whispered back, "Heck, no. This is a dentist's office, not a construction site. They don't use sandpaper here."

So the dentist uses this pencil-like tool to buff the teeth and it works! But then he says he's going to "shape them up a bit." He changes tips on this tool, from a pointy-thing to a round, flat disc. The Boy asks, "What's that?"

The dentist replies, "Sandpaper."

Oh, for the love of pete!

People, I have had a rather traumatic experience tonight.

Tissues, please...

I was leaving class; it was about 7:50pm, rather dark and cloudy. The college is in a sort-of natural area, and there is a lovely selection of wildlife running around. The street the college is on is mostly a slow-limit 4-lane divided by a grass and tree median.

As I was leaving, traffic started stacking up in a strange location. I thought there had been a crash, but since I was in the other lane, I didn't worry until I pulled up to the car I thought was involved in the crash. The car and the driver were fine. The baby deer the car was shielding from traffic, however, was not.

From time to time, idiots will use this road for street racing. Other prime specimens of humanity will buzz down the road well above the posted speed limit. I can only imagine that some deer were crossing the road when one of these lovely subhumans were bopping through, probably yapping on the cellphone, and the poor little guy got clipped.

It was so terribly sad. The guy was frozen still, perhaps waiting to die. He had blood and saliva coming from his mouth. A quick call to a hunter friend confirmed there was nothing to do but "help nature take its course." I stopped to help the other driver shield the deer until enough police officers could arrive to take our places; it just seemed like the right thing to do.

But what exactly is "nature's course," when it's the direct fault of a human's carelessness? That isn't natural, so I don't accept it. There are probably millions of people who have hit an animal with their car, but did they stop to make sure it was okay?

Did you know you could call the police to report the hit, and to get help from the animal control board if it wasn't okay? If you did know, did you call? If you didn't call, how do you sleep at night?

I was so upset when it was over, I cried. For the deer, who barely had one year of life lived, and who should have had a few more, at least. For humanity, who often puts self before service or compassion. For me, for feeling helpless because I can't protect all of nature's beauty from the selfish and inhumane.

After a rather rotten day of learning how to detect and report child abuse, this was not the way I had hoped it would all end. Please, God, send me a better tomorrow.

The Wonderful World of Magic

Today's word of the day:

jugglery

as in, "general jugglery."

And the North Koreans wonder why they're so damn hungry all the time. Could it be.... Satan?

Here's the most asinine quote from the entire article:

"Magicians presented works well representing the dynamic activities and optimistic life of the Korean People."

Okay, let me get this straight: Kim Jong Il has managed to convince an entire nation that malnutrition is good for them, so much that they're optimistic about it? The nation has been hungry for so long, they're all short. It's as though they've had a national famine, but they didn't. Oh, he and all his government people are fat and happy, but the little people, upon whom Kim depends for his girth, are not fat.

And so to celebrate, they have a Magic Festival. That's just skippy.