I have a love/hate relationship with Huffington Post. I love that it's easily accessible, has most of the news  I'm interested in and seems relatively unbiased. I hate that it is so chauvinistic and can't make up it's mind whether it wants to be a news source or a girly magazine. There are far too many stories about how so and such looks hot in her new bikini. I also hate that its so-called editors often write terrible headlines, use incorrect grammar, and employ all the latest jargon such as "hack" instead of "hint". I hate that its editor for LBGT issues is so attached to the offensive word "queer". I hate that they can't seem to stop using superlatives for everything. Their stories are just not that hilarious, incredible, astounding, mind-blowing or unforgettable. I hate that they have far too many depressing animal abuse stories. I hate that so many of their stories don't appear on command or are not in the area they say they are.  I hate that they have too many plugs for Disney properties, (Frozen didn't deserve nearly that much    space). And I really hate the frequency with which they air the opinions and quotes of such insignificant nobodies as Bristol Palin. Hmmm. I guess I don't have a love/hate relationship with Huffington Post. It seems to be more hate. But I still keep reading it.

Too many hoops.

There are lots of interesting and amusing feature on the Internet. Things like the "Ten Worst Movies of Al Time" or "What 31 Bond Girls Look Like Now" or even a tour of some famous person's home. The  trouble is they are commercial traps. In many cases they feature several different arrows, designed to confuse the viewer. Click one and you continue with your tour of the garden and pool area. Click the other and you're immediately involved in some commercial for a car or pharmaceutical. And getting back to the feature is tricky and exhausting. Thus I have given up attempting to visit any of these sites. The good news is I won't have to put up with the endless ads and commercials of the Internet. The bad news is I will never know what Bea Arthur's mansion looked like.

La Bardot.

Tonight on Turner Classic Movies they are showing The Night Heaven Fell, an insignificant 1958 film who's only appeal is Brigitte Bardot. (Today she is a major fighter for animal rights so she must have been disturbed by the many scenes of bullfighting in this boring film.) But that isn't the point of this post. In watching just a few scenes from this unwatchable film I was struck by the fact that Brigitte Bardot was an incredibly beautiful actress who appeared in far too many visually ugly films.

Three stooges.

The inept Jeb Bush, obviously can't take a hint. The fact that his campaign is failing miserably hasn't given him a clue that America does not want him. This  is especially true after he defended his traitorous, mass-murdering brother and made the ridiculous statement that "He kept us safe." Now in the most ill-advised move ever he has reached out for help to the two people who can't possibly lend him any support and will, in fact, make matters worse: his war criminal brother and grinning goon of a father. The idea that he even considers this a wise move shows us just how unequipped he is to be president. The entire Bush clan is in some way tainted and more of a disaster than a dynasty. Just look at this photo. Can you honestly say that anything about it gives you an iota of confidence?

A word to the wise.

It's that irritating time again when so many people for no discernible reason start saying "holloween", usually with the smugness that suggests they think they are pronouncing it correctly while everyone else is wrong. Wrong. The hallow in Halloween is pronounced like shallow, callow, and gallows , not like wallow, hollow, or follow. And while we're at it, let's get an early start on the Christmas season. Santa has a t in it and is pronounced Santa not sanna.

Why bother practice?

As an atheist, I find all religion to be peculiar. But especially weird to me are those players who pray to win a game. This is bizarre on several levels. For one, do they really think that god, who supposedly is responsible for everything in the world, gives a damn about their football game? Do they think he's sitting back with a beer keeping score of some rinky-dink high school competition? or even the Super Bowl. (Is that why we have disasters because he's not paying attention?) Then if you win, how can you take any pride in the victory if you think god made is possible and your athletic skills did not come into play?  And if you lose, don't you wonder why god thought so little of you that he let the other team win, or did they just pray harder? And do fans really pray for their team to win? Well according to a new survey half of American sports fans believe that god is at play in the games they watch, and 19% believe god is involved in determining who wins on the court or in the field.  I wonder of those same religious fans believe that god determines who wins at checkers.

Pop porn.

Women have a wonderful new tool in weeding out inappropriate men: any of the films in the 300 Spartans series. If the man you're seeing is a fan of any one of these films, be wary. Because in order to like these films he fits into one of the following categories.  He's a closeted gay. These films are basically homoerotic porn since they feature flat-chested tough women and hundreds of handsome sweating men with fantastic bodies and glorious pecs. He's a sadist. Who else could enjoy constant battle scenes of unrelenting violence along with the constant whipping of galley slaves (also great male bodies), endless amputations and such bizarre scenes as the butch queen kissing the lips of a bleeding severed head. And finally he's stupid. These films are made for sexually confused teens and immature adults.  The plots are non-existent, the scripts are hilariously corny, the characters are all one-dimensional, and the only purpose these films fulfill is as sado-masochistic, soft core porn.  And guys, if the woman you're seeing loves these films, run for it.