Randomness Corner: Europe is running out of butter, panic to ensue.

Soon to be a mythical thing to tell your grandchildren about.

Grandmothers in the remote, bucolic countrysides and elitist chefs at fine dining establishments across Europe are sharing a similar panic this week.

A report from the Federation des Entrepreneurs de la Boulangerie (that's French for bakery somethingoranother) says global demand for butter has skyrocketed, while supply in Europe has dipped, creating a butter shortage crisis.

"Butter shortages appear to be a real threat by the end of the year," said the Baking Homeboys, noting that brioche buns, tarts, and croissants might see prices drastically increased. That's right. That sound you just heard was a grown Parisian man crying in the streets. The daily habit of smoking filterless cigarettes and having a croissant at the corner cafe will cease to exist possibly. The French economy will single-handedly be more crippled than during World War II.

Remember the good ol' days when butter was in abundance and on crystal trays.

The European Commission's Milk Observatory (a real thing, I promise) claims that butter stockpiles in Europe have dropped 98% in the past year, all while Europeans have increased their annual intake of butter by a half-pound in the past half-decade. Saturated fat in stick form has never been as alluring.

Meanwhile, Peder Tuborgh, the CEO of U.K dairy megapower Arla, recently told the BBC that there might not be enough milk and cream come Christmas.

First the French are taken out on croissants, and now the Brits won't have custards and puddings come Christmas. Thank God the Germans are alcoholics and only focus on beer. If they had a butter and milk fetish like the rest of Europe, the entire European continent might crumble soon.

Time for that annual story of a person graduating school without ever missing a day.

Hannibal, MO, high school senior Philip Dauma is graduating without ever having missed a day of school. He credits his grandmother for visiting his house and cooking him breakfast--whatever breakfast he wanted--as one reason he never missed school.

"Sure, I went to school with a stuffy nose or a sore throat, but I never went with chicken pox or something that would make somebody else sick," Dauma told CNN.

Sigh.

If anything, at least we know the next flu pandemic that wipes out half the world's population will probably find Missouri as ground zero.

Oh, the Boston Globe headline wasn't really that interesting at all.

Never mind.

The Boston Globe tweeted days ago they were going to reveal today the one headline they never wanted to publish. Some people wondered. Was the paper folding? Going solely online? The moon landings were all fake? What was it?

Instead, the Globe decided to try their best impersonation of The Onion and do a satirical front page.

Strike up the Yakety Sax music, because things just became rib-tickling here!

Dated one year from now, April 9, 2017, it creates a grim view of the nation and the world under a then-President Trump. Curfews, deportations, trade wars. Let the hilarity ensue!

This is the satirical equivalent of having Chips Ahoy! say they make chocolate chip cookies just like grandma makes. Sure, it sounds fine, but we all know grandma's cookies can't be beat.

Which is why satire is left to The Onion. Leave it alone.

And leave the cookies to grandma, too.

Anne Bernays is cooler than your great-grandmother. Sorry, but it's true.

He can appreciate it.

Anne Bernays is the author of a number of a novels, a teacher of writing at Boston University, Boston College, Holy Cross, and other locations, and a winner of multiple awards.

Anne Bernays is also 85-years old, and rocking punk rock blue hair.

In an essay on NPR, Bernays explains becoming a great-grandmother was the impetus, but so was the passage of time of being anonymous. But after dyeing her hair a shade of blue only Johnny Rotten or Billy Idol could rock, people started brightening up around her, shaking her hand, appreciating her a little more."While young people sparkle like diamonds, old folks are invisible — except, as I discovered, if you have bright blue hair," she writes.

Now let's see your great-grandmother try this over this Thanksgiving. It'll brighten the holiday.

"Just give me some (expletive) bacon-jalapeno mac and cheese." Okay, so here's the recipe for the UConn kid.

Gawker writer Ashley Feinberg has done the Lord's work. She reached out to UConn and asked for the recipe for bacon-jalapeno mac and cheese that our stalwart UConn freshman, Luke Gatti, demanded at the school's food court before he was arrested.

First off, any recipe that's titled 500439, SU MAC & CHEESE, JALAPENO BACON smacks of deliciousness immediately. The name alone rolls right off the tongue.

Secondly, I don't know what VENDOR PROVIDED CHEESE USM PJR is, but I must have it. We all know slowly aged, fine cheese from far-flung areas of this world can't hold a candle to some vendor provided varieties. Mmm-mmm-mmm, I can taste the plastic saltiness on my tongue already.

No wonder Gatti was so worked up to get his hands on this stuff. It puts your grandma's homemade mac and cheese to shame.




I didn't know what "vegalene" was on step 2 of the preparation directions. It sounded like a medical ointment--so I looked it up. Apparently it's a non-stick spray used in giant prep areas. You can buy it in 1/2 gallon and gallon sizes, too! Sign me up!


photo: Gawker

Beyoncé's 'Drunk In Love' remix lyrics, as examined by three grandmothers.

Three grandmothers read the lyrics of Beyoncé's 'Drunk In Love'--specifically Kanye West's remix version--and they aren't fans.

"But Beyoncé, her husband is such a sweetheart!" says one grandma, officially killing the last gasp of Jay-Z's street cred.

70-year old teacher reads all the lyrics to a 50 Cent song.

A video is making the rounds on the interwebs of a 70-year old teacher reading the lyrics to rapper 50 Cent's song "P.I.M.P." As the title suggests, it's a charming song about enjoying the physical company of attractive young women after a lovely evening visiting local watering holes while imbibing in some after-dinner drinks of an uncertain alcohol content.

Except this is 50 Cent. He doesn't write subtly. If a word doesn't have the verbal equivalent of a stick of dynamite attached to it to offend someone's gender, race, or creed, he isn't trying.

Which makes it all the more interesting to see a 70-year old teacher recite his lyrics during a lesson:

WARNING: Again, some naughty, tsk-tsk, hide your ears, racially and gender insensitive language lies ahead. Don't yell at me for 50 Cent's verbage.



We don't know the backstory to why a 70-year old teacher is reading his lyrics. The video cuts out just as the lesson is about to start--but it's clearly an English class, poetry most likely, and the 70-year old teacher this close to popping a bottle full of bub.





Once, when I was a wee undergraduate in college, a 75-year old professor had us examine Bruce Springsteen's lyrics for poetic quality.

His judgment on the Boss? "He's a shitty writer."

Randomness Corner: Rogue Ferret Terrorizes Elderly Scooter Driver

The inevitable ferret reign of terror has begun, and they've decided to attack our most vulnerable humans: grannies.

Florence Taylor, an 86-year old resident of Nottinghamshire, England, was riding home recently from the local shops using her mobility scooter. Suddenly, Taylor says, a rogue ferret ran out of some nearby bushes and jumped onto her ride. A potential scooter-jacking was at hand.

Here's a photo of Taylor in her miniature, plasticized, pope mobile:

Taylor claims the ferret immediately clung to her leg--beginning a bloody showdown that would last 10-minutes. Realizing Taylor was a stubborn granny, the 2ft terror sunk his teeth into Taylor's heal, refusing to release his death grip despite the grandmother's repeated battering with her walking stick.

The ferocious ferret only gave up once it saw neighbors coming to save Taylor from certain doom, and scurried out of sight. Taylor was left with a bloody ankle, which required bandages and a tetanus shot from a local hospital.

The fright isn't over though. As Taylor told the UK's The Mirror, "It needs catching before it attacks again."

And as she told the UK's The Sun, "I’m too scared to even leave my home in case it attacks me again, after all IT'S GOT A TASTE FOR MY BLOOD NOW.”

Damn straight. Everyone knows once a ferret has a taste of your blood it's only a matter of time before it eats a limb clean off your body.

And so the ferret reign of terror begins.



photo: The Mirror

French president proposes banning homework.

"Work should be done at school, rather than at home," French president François Hollande recently explained during a revealing of his education initiatives.

Before you assume French kids are getting the same leisurely treatment their parents get with the 35hr work week, France has a quirkier education system than most of the western hemisphere. How so?

1.) French children only have a four day school week--BUT they attend school from around 8/8:30am until 4:30pm on average.

2.) On average, a typical French child spends 847 hours in class over a typical school year. In the United States or other western nations, a child typically spends around 774 hours in school.

3.) A lunch for French children is a 2-hour break.

4.) While French students typically have a winter, February, and April vacation like American children, French children don't start their summer vacations until July.

Change doesn't happen without someone getting angry, and there are plenty of angry people in France over Hollande's ideas. "It's completely unrealistic," Valérie Marty, president of France's national parents' organization, told the Associated Press. "They have to figure out who will take care of the children, who will finance it."

In other related news, French grandmothers just had a collective heart attack.

Book's ink disappears two months after opening, mocks you.

This quirk by Argentinian publishing house Eterna Cadencia was created to force people to stop screwing around and finish that book already.

Eterna Cadencia guilt trips more than your grandma.

Head fissure #5

The longest word in the English language that's a palindrome is rotavator, a type of rotary tiller.

Your skull just pulsed twice taking in that kind of knowledge.

You can't defeat Betty White. You can only hope to contain her.

When Grammy nominees were announced back in December, I said Betty White would win the Best Spoken Word Album. (Think: books on tape.)

Well, Betty won.

I'm not saying I should be a bookie or anything. I'm just saying if you laid some cash on my predictions, you'd be making some serious coin right now.

Fun with editorial cartoons.

I know, I know. No one under the age of 70 reads the newspaper anymore except me and your grandma. And she's been at 69-and-holding for the past eight years.

But here's a cute editorial cartoon to enjoy. Your grandma and I both like it:

Yeeeah. I'm this close to fiber supplements and early-bird specials at The Sizzler. Way head of you on that one.

And this is the face of a woman who says "whatever" to your speech patterns, too.

While we're at it, Marist College came out with their yearly Annoying Word of 2010. For the second year in a row, "whatever" won, this time with 39% of the vote.

Apparently Marist heard my angry grandma-esque Fist Shake of Fury over last year's complete lack of the word "like" in their poll. This is because "like" came in second this year, earning 29% of derision.




The runners-up:

3rd: you know what I mean - 15%
4th: to tell you the truth - 10%
5th: actually - 5%

Marist breaks it down into a spreadsheet to tell you how people voted by age, race, education, location, etc. Last year, I noted that 12% of all Midwesterners had no opinion. This year, 9% of respondents over the age of 60 had no opinion.

This poll is flawed then. Everyone knows college students and the elderly complain more than anyone else. It's in our genetic coding. It's impossible not to.

I mean, just look at this blog. Then look at that angry grandmother in the photo above.

It's called synergy, folks.

I wonder if someone can be a pragmatic doppelganger of a dissident bigot...?

Merriam-Webster Dictionary released their Top-Ten Words of the Year. This is based off words that have a spike in searches on Merriam-Webster's website that is abnormal for their regular tendencies.

The word?

1.) Austerity: noun: the quality or state of being austere; enforced or extreme economy.

Austerity won because of the Greek financial crisis, which turned to austere economic controls to try and stem an economic meltdown. Or less of a re-meltdown of a meltdown. (Can you melt something that is already melted?)

Other Top Ten Words (in no particular order)

ebullient
doppelganger
dissident
furtive
shellacking
pragmatic
socialism
moratorium
bigot

Personally, doppelganger is a favorite. Whenever I use it, it feels like I'm momentarily speaking Austrian. And considering that Austrian isn't a language, that makes it even better.


*The elderly woman in the photo who looks like she's about to give you the business is all I could get for a photo referring to "austerity." That's right. Austerity photos = grandmas with fists of justice.

Days of Our Lives: product placement so subtle, you hardly notice it.

Soap operas are often known for some of the greatest writing modern civilization has ever known. Would Shakespeare have been a writer for daytime television? Most likely, once he learned the art of nuance.

That's where the Days of Our Lives screenwriter comes in. (You'll find him sobbing at his keyboard.) He's been asked to drop product advertisements right in the middle of his screenplays in the most subtle way possible.

Such as for Wanchai Ferry Chinese Food:



Did grandma just say it has rice, so it'll fill me up? Well, you don't need to twist my arm. As long as she's dishing out seconds, I'm game.

But did someone just mention ChexMix?



The real concern here is why the blond actress is whipping out the Ken's Salad Dressing to serve with the ChexMix. Now, I'm no culinary master, but I tend to prefer ChexMix without some raspberry vinaigrette. A million and one flavors in your mouth might be one flavor too many.

But if you don't feel like eating ChexMix, how about some snacks for the kiddies?



That kid just guaranteed herself a future in the unemployment line. Flubbing lines is one thing. Flubbing lines for a product placement is another.

Maybe she would have done better if she filled herself up with some Cheerios:



That's right--the easiest way to romance is through a box of whole grain oats. Whenever I start a new relationship, I often woo the ladies with some cold cereal. If they play hard to get, I might then dip into some Cream of Wheat.

Eventually your looks wear off and Father Time comes a-knockin'. That doesn't mean you can't keep Cheerios in your life though:



Hmm, it seems that Anderson fella doesn't care about his heart health. Cholesterol is his best friend. I'm just calling it now: when Anderson dies from a heart attack, a character will lean over his casket snacking on Cheerios, sobbing, trying to compose themselves, saying, "He'd have been alive today if...he...((bites their lip and grabs a handful of cereal))...if...he...just ate more Cheerios."

And if you're in a bad mood? Well, sorry. Cheerios can only do so much magic. That's when you need to hit the hard stuff:



Tell me about it. I'm a busy guy between grad school and work. Seems to me Midol is what I'm missing. She's sold me!

Banned Books Week: Someone needs to check into The Very Hungry Caterpillar and his subliminal messages.

It's Banned Books Week. The "week" suggests books aren't worth a whole month of attention. Which is saying something, because September is (really) among other things:

National Chicken Month
National Piano Month
Hug a Texas Chef Month
Mom & Apple Pie Month
National Biscuit Month
National Cholesterol Awareness Month (here's a tip: lay off the biscuits)

National Bourbon Heritage Month
National Honey Month
National Rice Month
National Potato Month
National Childhood Obesity Awareness Month (here's a tip: check your cholesterol, too)
National Mushroom Month
National Sewing Month
National Courtesy Month

Apparently September doesn't have the courtesy to offer Banned Books Week a whole month to itself though, which really throws into question how much awareness courtesy deserves at this point.

But what about banned books? You know, those books that are soiling our children's minds that we must protect them from? That's where the Huffington Post comes in with their 11 Most Surprising Banned Books. (Why 11? I don't know. But are you suggesting we ban them from doing more than 10?? Hmm?)

Some of the highlights from the Huffington Post:

1.) The Dictionary:

That's right--Webster has been trying to indoctrinate your child into a world of sexual lust. According to Huffington, the book was banned in January 2010 from a California elementary school because it included a definition of oral sex that "wasn't age appropriate," according to one official.

But if a child can't learn sex ed from a dictionary, where can he turn to? A thesaurus? An Encyclopedia Britannica? Grandma's stash of AARP Magazines?

3.) Sylvester and the Magic Pebble by William Steig:

The Illinois Police Association and eleven states tried to ban this children's book about talking animals because police are portrayed as pigs. Thank God cops are finally cracking down on the real criminals in our society--talking animals. I've always said that Wilbur the pig had the air of a criminal mastermind--Charlotte's death is on his hooves--so thankfully the police are finally catching onto this.

According to the product description on Amazon.com:

Imagine all the happiness and wealth you could achieve if you found a magic pebble that granted your every wish! Sylvester Duncan, an unassuming donkey who collects pebbles "of unusual shape and color," experiences just such a lucky find. But before he can make all his wishes come true, the young donkey unexpectedly encounters a mean-looking lion. Startled, Sylvester wishes he were a rock, but in mineral form he can no longer hold the pebble, and thus cannot wish himself back to his equine trappings. His parents, thinking he has disappeared, are at first frantic, then miserable, and then plunge into donkey ennui. Meanwhile, Sylvester is gravely depressed, but tries to get used to being a rock.

Did they just use "donkey ennui" in a sentence? The important news here is in the reviews by Amazon customers. Someone named Constance gives it a two star review, saying, "Donkeys with depression...is not my cup of tea."

Damn right. I couldn't get through an episode of Winnie the Pooh on the Disney Channel as a child without needing all sharp objects and shoelaces taken away from me. Will someone please just give Eeyore a pep talk?!

5.) Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See? by Bill Martin Jr. and Eric Carle:

If I've said it once, I've said it a thousand times--when are we going to finally wake up to the dangers of brown bears with fantastic eyesight?

According to Huffington, the book was banned in 2010 by the Texas Board of Education (those classy rapscallions!) because the author of the book shared a name with an obscure Marxist theorist, and no one checked to see if they were the same guy.

Indeed. We can never doubt the authenticity of someone's identity just because they share a similar name. To me, that means you're as good as guilty. Why, look at my name--Patrick. Am I saying I'm pretty much the same virtuous human being as St. Patrick? Well, there's a 50/50 shot the Texas Board of Education will say so, and who am I to disagree? I am pretty saintly after all.

B(eautifully) L(oquacious) [and] O(dd) G(uides) [to] S(ociety)

Blogs are popular. Admittedly, most are boring. Horrifically so. (That's why you're reading this stylish, yet humble blog of high-minded observation. It shows you've got taste--as well as there's nothing good on tv to distract you.) The blogs can't help it though. They're inanimate personality profiles of the people or businesses that create them.

Blog genres are limited only by the lack of imagination of those who run them. Some grandmas have (or had) them to share their opinion (good), some Fortune 500 companies offer mild brainwashing techniques (not so good), and some are just quirky (quirky good).

So, we'll look at blogs and see what's out there. Even if that means coming across the inanimate personality profiles of real people.

Real people?

Well, real enough, yes.

Truth be told, Apollo Creed did have a mean right hook.

The University of Central Florida has a case of paranoia. Not the kind of paranoia that is cute really, like wondering if you left the iron on when you left for vacation, or whether your dog can read your mind. No, UCF generally thinks every single student is going to cheat. It's like the girlfriend who checks your cellphone and wants to know who this woman named "Grandma" is, and why did you call her one Sunday morning?

According to the New York Times, UCF has gone to the extreme:

No gum is allowed during an exam: chewing could disguise a student’s speaking into a hands-free cellphone to an accomplice outside.

The 228 computers that students use are recessed into desk tops so that anyone trying to photograph the screen — using, say, a pen with a hidden camera, in order to help a friend who will take the test later — is easy to spot.

Scratch paper is allowed — but it is stamped with the date and must be turned in later.

When a proctor sees something suspicious, he records the student’s real-time work at the computer and directs an overhead camera to zoom in, and both sets of images are burned onto a CD for evidence.

So, in other words, UCF builds a culture of trust.

One student the Times talked to, an MBA student named Ashley Haumann, prefers being watched by Big Brother. According to Ashley, being watched by surveillance cameras "encourages you to be ready for the test because you can’t turn and ask, ‘What’d you get?'" Statements like this show what a cog Ashley will be in the near future working as middle-management with little room for advancement for some Fortune 500 company.

Paranoia over cheating has gone to the extreme, and not just with UCF. I've even been a party to it. Back when I took the GRE subject test, I encountered a glitch with the Great Fear of Cheating in our educational culture. During the three hour subject test, test takers weren't allowed to leave the room. No bathroom breaks, no stretching your legs, no, no, no. "But can I--"

No.

But, suddenly, my nose sprung a leak. A bloody nose, as if I struck oil in the middle of my face. (Hooray, uncirculating dry air!!) In a matter of seconds, I looked like I went ten rounds with Apollo Creed. I didn't have a napkin, a tissue, a rag--anything--to hold the blood in. But would the GRE folks let me grab a tissue? No. To do so would void my test. The fear? That I'd rush into the bathroom and grab some answers. Clearly, making my face look like it was hemorrhaging was all an elaborate ruse to pad my test grades.

A proctor took pity on me and handed me a tissue--of which I tried to stem the blood flow for the next hour (while still taking the test) in what can be casually described as epically failing at modern medicine practices. Reading giant passages of a GRE test, while scribbling in answers--all the while trying to hold back a bloody nose that looks like open-heart surgery being conducted on your face--is a skill set not regularly suggested in GRE practice books.

It is instances like that, Ashley, when sometimes--just maybe--maybe possibly--common sense can be allowed for just a moment.

Go to a private college? You're a genius. True story!

Back in 1950, the average GPA of a college student in the United States was 2.52. That's right, your grandparents weren't too bright. You always knew there had to be a reason why they lied about walking seven miles uphill in a raging snowstorm to school. Now we know it was all probably a cover story to explain their shaky GPA.

GPAs at both public and private colleges generally rose in tandem until 1950. But, starting in 1950, something magical and wonderful started happening at private colleges: their GPAs started skyrocketing while public college kids' GPAs only rose marginally. Thank God, too, because you'd hate to see a private school student not get an advantage in life at some point.

According to a study by two researchers, Stuart Rojstaczer and Christopher Healy, GPAs at private colleges kept running wild until they finally reached the current average of 3.3. Public colleges tried to keep up--but fell short, at only 3.0. In short, public college professors padded grades--they just didn't pad them as much as a private college professor did. Or, put another way, there's nothing to say we're not all still 2.52 GPA students as a whole--but damned if all sides aren't going to lie enough to make us all seem brighter.

Private school people can't claim they're of a higher caliber. The researchers used only students of nearly identical makeup (SATs, backgrounds, income, etc.) from both public and private schools to help create the average.

The nifty little part of this all is that by having higher GPAs private school students are led to have a greater chance at being placed in medical schools, law schools, and PhD programs--just from admissions officers smitten by bigger GPA numbers. Likewise, such advanced degrees often lead to better employment prospects upon graduating (at least on the medical and law school front), with higher income and greater advancement. All, possibly, from a professor padding your grade. If professors held any more power, they might start levitating. 

Just don't tell your grandma all this. She might claim that with inflation her GPA was really a 10.97 all along.