'Bred Crumbs

It's the Meat Filling

In perhaps the ultimate in wishful thinking, someone came to this site using this search:

krispy kreme atkins approved

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And You Wonder Why I've Quit Paying Attention to Football?

Thank goodness, another pro athlete has found the courage to admit he's heterosexual. San Francisco 49ers quarterback Jeff Garcia has announced to the world that sorry, guys, he's – well, not exactly taken ...

Just because an individual in his 30s hasn't found true love and, yes, there are opportunities to date but it also forces you to be more particular. In so many ways, you become more adamant about finding that right person and not allowing yourself to open up to just anybody.

... but also not gay:

Somebody saying it obviously doesn't have any clue as to who I am as a person and, secondly, speaks from a sense of having jealousy for what I've been able to attain as a person and is trying to knock me. Well, they're not knocking me.

To recap: Garcia is way too stellar of an individual to possibly be gay, and the only reason he can think of that anyone would suggest he is gay is to demean him. Silly, silly Jeffy. If I wanted to demean you, I wouldn't say you're gay. I'd suggest that maybe you're a reckless drunk.

But I wouldn't do that, of course.

Garcia has failed to consider one other reason people might spread talk that he's gay. Maybe they were just trying to help him fill the big shoes of his much-speculated-about, serial-marriage-postponing predecessor, Steve Young. Who I'm sure will publicly reaffirm his heterosexuality any day now. Probably in a car commercial.

Meanwhile, the veteran head trainer for the 49ers has it all backward. He's gone and announced that he is gay. And he has lots of heartwarming tales to tell about how the esteemed, celebrated, non-boobie-exposing heroes of the NFL treated him.

·  ·  ·

Hetero- and homosexual announcement links via Outsports.

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Oh, and No Foam Couches

Sure, some will suggest there are already too many unscripted home-improvement shows – and if you've seen TLC's latest, In a Fix, it's hard not to agree. But one more is called for. Here's the pitch:

Title (Working): To Hil and Back

Concept: Each week, this show will visit the home of former Trading Spaces contestants who had the misfortune of getting their room redone by Hilda Santo-Tomas. A new designer will get a fleet of carpenters and as much money as they need to turn the hellish Hildy disaster back into a room anyone could actually live in.

Staffing the show should be no problem; apparently, the nation has a surplus of actor/singer/model/carpenters. (Who knew?) But we're going to be hard-nosed when it comes to auditioning designers. There are two qualifications:

Requirement 1. You must own, and have watched, a television. Trading Spaces designers seem to think TVs in livingrooms and bedrooms are merely quaint, distasteful decorative options, and will go to great lengths to hide the TV, or sometimes just completely ignore the need for one in their design, wedging it in as an afterthought if the conspiring homeowners are very insistent.

Homeowner, During the Reveal: "Where's my TV?"

Paige: "It's over there in the corner, behind the faux-Albanian dressing screen. You can see it if you tilt your head and look in the wicker dresser mirror."

Requirement 2. You must have at least a passing interest in satisfying the homeowner. Our designers, for instance, will comprehend that when someone says he don't like a color, that means he is extremely familiar with the color in question and actually does not want it to be the primary color of his new room.

Further, designers on our new show must follow these rules:

• Rule 1: Never glue things onto other things. Not seashells onto mirrors, not leaves onto lampshades. If it looks like a fourth-grader made it at summer camp, but a fourth-grader in fact did not, then it's not art, it's a very bad idea.
• Rule 2: Respect the ceiling fan. Remember that whole form-follows-function some teacher may have mentioned in passing back in design school? Reacquaint yourself. If a homeowner wants a ceiling fan, it has something to do with wanting to stir the air around to enhance comfort. Ignore your haughty, flighty Diva Designer tendencies. Give the client what she freakin' wants.
• Rule 3: Hold the produce. You know what real homes don't have? Random jars of lemons on the mantle, or oranges stacked on the coffee table. What, you're a designer, but you really want to photograph food?
• Rule 4: Never paint a wall puke green.

Of course, Hildy would never do that last one. She'd just put actual puke on the wall.

Or, upon seeing what she's done to their house, the homeowners will.

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Is the Movie Finally Over? How 'Bout the Game?

Things I was wrong about this weekend:

1. That there are plenty of movies worse than Gigli. I assumed this before and some friends and I, for some reason, submitted ourselves to it. The source of my undue optimism was than the week before, I had witnessed S.W.A.T., and I doubted anything could really be worse than that. I also figured that, even though Gigli was bound to be wretched, the extremely harsh reviews of it were heavily fueled by Bennifer backlash.

But no. Gigli is bad to a degree that's unimaginable, even if you've just seen it. No – the unimaginable part is that no one along the way stopped this movie from happening, and that anyone along the way thought anything about it was a good idea. There is not one redeeming thing about it. It's worse than at least two-thirds of the movies ever shown on Mystery Science Theater 3000.

And don't get it into your head that you need to see how bad it is. Too many have paid that price already.

2. That the nation's slavish devotion to the Super Bowl would mean wide-open stores for us. Instead of paying any attention to the annual showcase of tedious hype and homoerotic homophobia, Robbie and I patronized a different institution we usually avoid: the mall. We needed to stock up on basics (socks, underwear, jeans, and a George Foreman grill upgrade) and figured that on this day, traffic would be delightfully down. And while things were less maddeningly packed than usual, the roads and mallways weren't as vacant as we'd hoped. We even had parking hassles at Home Depot, which we were sure would be desolate, what with all the manly men glued to their tubes and nachos. I guess we underestimated just how much apathy the Patriots and Panthers would generate.

3. That CBS' advertising standards are flimsy and hypocritical. Well, that wasn't exactly wrong, but as it turns out, it's worse than that: the network's duplicity extends to its "entertainment," too, as evidenced by the halftime strip show. Either that, or the executives really were stupid enough to believe that MTV wouldn't let anything racy happen.

But, hey, the whole tiresome event did usher the phrase "wardrobe malfunction" into the language, so I guess it's not entirely worthless.

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