Snakes, Snakes, Go Away

A disturbing story in today's news has prompted me to write another RoseRant. According to Ron Magill of the Miami MetroZoo, the state of Florida is now known as the "Club Med" for pythons. Apparently, there are up to 175,000 of the highly-lethal serpents roaming around the Everglades, reproducing like mad and eating everything in their path, including alligators. None of these critters live naturally in this part of the world, so the infestation can be blamed entirely on careless pet owners who got in over their heads and eventually released them into the wild. Since the snakes have no natural predators in Florida, researchers are predicting that they will further multiply and eventually slither northward into Georgia, the Carolinas, and Louisiana. Sadly, just the other day, a "pet" python escaped his seemingly inescapable glass box and killed a toddler in her own bed.

The problem of python infestation could have been avoided if just one critical element was used: COMMON F@#KING SENSE. Why the hell are people buying pythons for pets? That is just about the dumbest friggin' thing I've ever heard. What kind of numbnut buys a deadly creature that should never, ever, ever be kept in a box? Is it a penis thing? Does keeping a python under glass somehow add a few extra inches to one less endowed? Note to Zeke, the owner of the now 15-foot python being kept in the back of his double-wide: Dude, your dick is just fine. You don't need to prove anything to anybody. I can only imagine that fateful moment when Zeke realizes he can't handle his reptilian roommate anymore. He puts his snake in the back of his pickup truck, hauls ass down Alligator Alley while listening to some testosterone-laced country & western song, stops by the side of the road, and opens the door of the cage. Real manly, Zeke. You are such a total stud. Yee-ha!

Please forgive my sarcasm, but I just can't help it! I am a Florida resident (at least for the next two weeks) and more importantly, I am a mother of a third-grader who weighs fifty pounds soaking wet. The thought of some gargantuan yellow python wrapping itself around my little girl (or any other child for that matter) and literally squeezing the life out of her, terrifies me. And for what? All because some idiot has unresolved penis issues.

The state government has now gotten involved, officially approving snake hunting in order to hopefully reduce the number of predatory pythons basking in sunny Florida. We'll have to see how that goes. Maybe we should also crack down on those businesses who are selling these creatures and put a modicum of ethics and responsibility on their shoulders as well. If you need to have a permit to own a gun, then you should have to get a permit to own a deadly creature. In order to acquire one, you should be able to prove you can appropriately care for the animal, even when it grows past the cute little cuddly stage. You should be able to show that no one will be in danger of putting the animal in captivity. In short, you should be able to prove that you aren't a total moron.

How many more dead children will it take before we start doing something about it?

What'chu Talkin' 'Bout, Willis?

I am a Chicago gal. I lived in Chicago for half of my life, and I know two things for sure: 1) Chicago has the best friggin' hot dogs on the planet, and 2) it is the proud home of the Sears Tower, the world's (once) tallest and most majestic skyscraper.

Imagine my horror when I read the news today indicating that the Sears Tower is now the Willis Tower, named after some frou-frou insurance company based out of London. The Willis Tower? THE WILLIS TOWER? WTF????? I can't even begin to tell you how many different shades of wrong this is.

I Wouldn't Miss Miss USA

Is it just me, or does it seem that most of the country have taken a stupid pill? How is it that one of the top "News" items on Google News is the so-called controversy about the latest, almost-famous bimbo known as Miss USA?

I know that my views may brand me as a feminist pig, but honestly, I'm comfortable with that. At least pigs exist in nature, for goodness sake. Miss USA's don't exist in nature; they are freaks of it!!! These plasticized chicks parade around with their perfect, expensive, surgically-enhanced bodies in skin-tight sequined gowns and string bikinis in order to be judged by a panel of C-list celebs and the American viewing public. In order to justify the meatfest, the contest organizers plop in a brief - but often hilarious - Q&A portion of the program to convince us that we aren't just looking at a 3-D version of Playboy magazine. This segment is where we are led to believe that these women not only have unnaturally gorgeous bodies, but also have cerebral superiority and problem-solving skills that would rival anything found on the floor of the United Nations.

What I have gleaned from the multitude of news stories on the web is that the most recently crowned Miss USA from California has gotten a lot of flak for three things (well, really four things): 1) she opposes gay marriage and publicly said so in response to a question posed by the very powerful, openly-gay superblogger Perez Hilton, 2) she modeled for some naughty pics a few years ago, and 3 & 4) she received a new set of knockers purchased by the pageant muckety-mucks. Suddenly, everyone is in a uproar about these serious transgressions committed by the beauty queen. Uhmmm...she's a beauty queen! Who the f@ck is surprised by any of this?

What's even more ridiculous is the number of people calling for her resignation. (Not that I agree with her numbskull comments, including her support of the sanctity of "opposite marriage", whatever the hell that is.) Reality check, folks! Miss USA is nothing more than a marketing device for Donald Trump to make a shitload of money. In case you doubt my premise, I defy to you give me the name of one other previous Miss USA and a corresponding important accomplishment she has done. Yeah, I couldn't think of one either. Yet, everyone is acting as if this role means something! A recent op-ed piece, from FOX News no less, called for The Brainiac from California to resign or be fired because she doesn't represent the "two core brand features" of the pageant (no, it's not the two you are thinking of). Fox's John Tantillo writes, "A Miss USA represents an organization and an ideal and as such any candidate for the job needs to be both a diplomat and a leader." A DIPLOMAT AND A LEADER??? WTF?? I can't think of anything further from the truth. Miss USA is neither a diplomat nor a leader. She's a hot chick with long legs, big titties, a beautiful face, and sparkly teeth. Having a brain is not a requirement, and it is disingenuous in the extreme to give these women the title and responsibility of a diplomat and a leader. Maybe it's time for people to look up those words in a dictionary to understand the huge gulf between their definition and what a Miss USA actually does. (What DOES she do anyway?) Even better, let's revisit one of the most popular YouTube videos to demonstrate the intellectual titans that make up the pool of beauty pageant contestants. Here is the famous clip of Miss South Carolina at the Miss Teen USA 2007 contest. I'm gonna shoot myself in the head if this is what I can expect from our future diplomats and leaders.

Let's be honest about what these neanderthal events really are: they are unseemly, socially-sanctioned opportunities for men to ogle pretty young women and for women to quietly judge them (and themselves even more). Why in God's name, in the year 2009, are we still celebrating these parades of superficiality? Even more distressing, why in God's name is this lame excuse for a news story dominating the airwaves? There are so many more relevant stories that people should be informed of, discuss, and act upon. Things like headless bodies found in Pakistan. Let's get our priorities straight, shall we?

Instead, we get to see the Pimp King, Donald Trump, talk about how the Carrie Prejean controversy is "a good thing". In regards to Miss Prejean's adolescent photo faux-pas, Mister Mushroom Head even said, "I'm going to be looking at these photos" to make sure that they didn't cross his line of good taste. Ewwwww...do you have the same image in your head as I have in mine? Needless to say, it involves crumpled Kleenex.

You may think Donald Trump is a nothing more than a skeezy, rich slimeball. But guess what, folks? That slimeball is laughing at us while he laughs all the way to the bank.

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For your consideration and/or comment:

What do you think of beauty pageants like the Miss USA contest?

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Visit www.TheresaRose.net to take a peek in the award-winning Opening the Kimono!

Don't Let the Nutters Win

This morning, I did two things that are bad for me: I drank Starbucks and read the newspaper.

Since I am gearing up to take a much-needed spiritual retreat/vacation next week, I am focusing all of my efforts on being as efficient as possible. As such, I thought I would wait in the parking lot of Staples from 7:35am (the time I drop off Beaner at the bus) to 8:00am (the time the store opens) instead of schlepping back home only to leave again to retrieve my copies. After giving smooches, straightening collars, and instructing my urchin to make it a great day, I decided I would enjoy my parking lot lollygagging a little bit more if I had a tasty Tall (notice not a Grande!) Decaf Light Whip Mocha. While in line, I opted to pick up our local newspaper, the Sarasota Herald-Tribune. After having the adorable, scruffy barista give me my poison, er, order, I returned to the Mojomobile and drove to Staples to await the opening. I slurped on my delectable bev and cracked open the paper, both of which I rarely do. Here is what I discovered...

THERE ARE A BUNCH OF NUTJOBS OUT THERE.

During my fifteen minutes of idle-time, I read about unauthorized nuclear testing by North Korea, cutbacks in education, and gunrunners traveling across the border into Mexico. However, two flaming nutjobs jumped out at me as particularly odious.

1) Melissa Huckaby of Stockton, California who apparently kidnapped, sexually assaulted, and killed the 8-year old friend of her daughter. After the killing, she stuffed the little girl's body into a suitcase and dumped her into a pond. If I could say something to Melissa it would be this: Melissa, Poor, Deluded, Fucked-up Melissa, you are like a nasty old string of Christmas lights with half of the lights burned out. You are so twisted that the best thing to do with you is throw you away so you don't have to show your ugly mug in society ever again. Shame on you. How dare you! I am sure that when you go to prison, there will be other mommies in there with you who will frown upon your method of chaperoning play dates. Paybacks are a bitch, Bitch, especially when you harm a child. Ouch. It sucks to be you, in this lifetime and beyond.

2) A not-yet-identified man in my own home town of Sarasota, Florida is viciously attacking old ladies. It seems that Dickless Wonder has broken into the homes of nine middle-aged to older women, sneaked up on them from behind, bonked them on the head, robbed them, tied them up with rope, sexually assaulted a few of them (including an 82-year old woman) and killed the last one just last week. Dick, you WILL be found and brought to justice, you fucking coward. Just as Nutjob #1 will have a rocky road in the hoosgow, you too will feel the pain of your fellow inmates' displeasure at your shenanigans. It's not that I'm wishing it, mind you, but I wouldn't be surprised if one of the yard rats bonks your soft melon and gives you a taste of your own wretched medicine. (Insert your own soap-dropping reference here.)

Now, I know that I will be rightly accused of a lack of compassion for my fellow, extremely wounded, human beings. The Higher Self in me knows that these two whackjobs are most likely products of abuse, neglect, and trauma. My enlightened side says, "Show them love". Jesus would say, "Forgive them, Father, for they know not what they do." Yeah, JC, God should and will probably forgive them. But I don't need to. I guess I believe that they DID know what they were doing, and those two crackpots are hard to forgive. However, it's possible that my lack of forgiveness stems from my proximity to the crimes.

In the case of the Evil Mommy, I can't help but think about my own almost-eight year old being in that situation. Emma has gone next door for a playdate with her best friend countless times. Ms. Huckaby's actions instilled that same fear in me, even if for only brief flashes of time. Through her unconscionable choices, she has rocked the worlds of mothers and fathers everywhere, not to mention destroyed the lives of the victim's family.

In the case of Dick, he has chosen to attack vulnerable women in neighborhoods where close friends of mine live. I drive by these places several times a week. This isn't some distant story buried in the national news page; it's where my peeps live and work. Clark and Beneva. US41 and Stickney Point. Siesta and Osprey. This deluded shell of a man has put the fear of God into house after house of women in my town, and I for one am pissed about it.

Here lies the challenge and the opportunity. There will always be nutjobs amongst us. Eight years ago, we had a handful of nutjobs get on four airplanes and change our world forever. That same year, a mild-mannered nutjob named Andrea drowned her five kids. Twenty-two years ago, another nutjob was putting poison in Tylenol capsules in my hometown of Chicago. Over sixty years ago, there was a whole country of nutjobs led my the King of the Nutjobs who started exterminating people. How do we live in peace, comfort, and joy, knowing that heinous tragedies, local and global, have happened and will happen again in some form or another?

I'm not sure I know the answer, but here's my humble opinion on how to survive the storm of crazies:

We believe. We are unafraid. We trust in Spirit. We know that everything happens exactly as it should. We don't allow the weakness of others become the weakness in ourselves. We rise to the occasion. We find the gifts buried in the muck. We become shining examples of what it looks like to be conscious, loving, compassionate people.

In short, we don't let the nutters win.

Some days, like today, it's easier said than done.

Not So Bad, Really

Just when I think I'm a terrible mother, I get validation that I'm not so bad after all.

No doubt about it, there are nincompoops out there that never should have spawned. A case in point is a total friggin' goober who got high off Xanax and decided to let his eight-year old drive the family roadster. As you can imagine, this didn't end well for anyone. His little guy almost ran over two people before he plowed into a tree, wrecking the car and his father's future chances to win Dad of the Year. All of this happened in my quiet little hamlet, just a few miles from my house! What a moron.

Then there's the goofball unemployed mother of six in California who decides that she can easily handle another eight children by herself while collecting government disability checks. I'm sure each and every one of her fourteen children will get all of the love and nurturing they need to become healthy, vibrant, confident, successful men and women. Yeah. Right. Oh, by the by, she has set up her own web site to collect "donations", citing that no one person can raise fourteen children on her own. No shit, Sherlock.

Finally, there's the story of yet another sad sack of characters who allowed a five-year old to be abducted from their mobile home. The little girl and her three year old brother were being "watched" by the father's 17-year old girlfriend at the time. The girl who was "watching" the girl said, "She was sleeping right next to me. I can't believe I didn't hear anything." (Cue the banjo music.) Come on! Either something fishy is going on, or this dolt of a teenager should never be responsible for taking care of anyone other than herself and possibly a very hearty goldfish. Also, here's a quick piece of advice to the teenage girl: Don't Date Dads.

So, as you can read, I have my knickers in a twist today. It pisses me off to see people acting so casually with the lives of children, as if they are something with which to be trifled. Children are glorious little people -- people who look up to us big people for guidance, comfort, safety, encouragement, support, and love. Hey Doofuses, don't bring the little ones into your own personal nightmares. They didn't do anything to deserve it.

(Theresa officially steps off of her soapbox.)

That being said, I feel pretty good that the only numbskull parenting thing I did today was spill orange juice on Emma's beautifully decorated Secret Valentine's box. I know; I'm such a shit.

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For your consideration and/or comment:

What do you think makes parents do crazy things?

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