Diamonds, Engagement Rings & Diamond Jewelry in popular culture

All of those medical marijuana licenses must have been approved, because federal prosecutors in Northern California have nothing better to do than pick on Barry Bonds again.  This will be the third time they file charges against the former San Francisco Giants slugger: once for allegedly using illegal performance-enhancing drugs, once for allegedly lying to a grand jury about using performance-enhancing drugs, and once for—oops, that’s twice for allegedly lying about the drugs.  Seriously, aren’t there criminals to chase?  Walk through Golden Gate Park at night and you’ll see that there are bigger fish to fry than a guy who hit baseballs for a living.  But here are a bunch of folks who worked their tails off, spending several years going into debt in school and many more earning meager wages as they clawed their paths up the legal ladder, and then there is a guy who spent one short year in the minors before bursting onto the Major League scene and its matching salary.  Prosecutors can’t possibly be mad at someone who may have possibly lied 7 years ago.  They’re mad at someone who may have possibly lied 7 years ago while showing up in court with more money in diamonds hanging from his earlobes than each earns in a year.

"Maybe I used steroids, maybe not. Don't you have anything better to do?"

The law goes only so far, but bitterness is forever.

And so Barry Bonds is being indicted.  Again.  Really.  After we had forgotten, for the most part, about the whole BALCO scandal, about the whole steroid issue, about who was juicing whom.  We had gotten out of heads the horrifying images of Jose Canseco sticking a needle into Mark McGwire’s butt.  But when we think back, we scratch our heads as we try to remember how and why Barry Bonds somehow became the Big Fat Liar who needs to be hunted like a dog.  Out of all of the Major League players who went from reed-thin to freakishly muscular in less than an off-season, it is Bonds whom prosecutors wanted to take down, and, like rabid bulldogs, they continue to hold on.  And whither Mark McGwire, Mike Piazza, Roger Clemens, Sammy Sosa, and Pudge Rodriguez?  Did showing up in court wearing bifocals make some of them appear frail enough to cause the grand jury to dismiss the idea that they had been using steroids?  Was there a personality portion of the trial?  Bonds made no attempts to charm the media or anyone, ever.  Perhaps being an egomaniacal jerk worked against him.

Correction:  being an openly egomaniacal jerk worked against him (I’m looking at YOU, Rocket Roger).

The charges have been reduced from 11 to 5. There are 4 counts of perjury because of the way he answered the question as to whether he ever took steroids from trainer Greg Anderson.  He responded, “Not that I know of.”  Oh, sure.  Presidents have been getting away with murder—literal murder in the form of pointless military action—by saying, “I don’t remember” or “Not that I recall.”  Ronald Reagan made a career of forgetting things long before he was symptomatic of Alzheimer’s.  But let someone who entertained millions (and put countless rear ends into Major League seats that would have otherwise sat empty) answer with tactical ambiguity and suddenly the wrath of the Northern Cali Feds rains down upon him.  There is also a lingering count of Obstruction of Justice for answering questions in ways that were vague and/or misleading.  Speaking of forgetfulness, that sounds like a repeat of the first charge, but with a different name.

And so the federal prosecutors in Northern California prepare for Barry Bonds’ March trial.  All of this in an era when Congressmen—currently holding office, decision-making married Congressmen—are placing shirtless ads on Craiglist trolling for chicks.

Focus, people.  Let the past be the past and put your efforts into trying to make the present a little less embarrassing for all Americans.  Barry Bonds can quietly retreat into a private life, applying ProActiv to his back in peace, and the Northern California Federal Prosecutors can, oh, I don’t know, fight crime.

Here we have the stories of two rappers with—ahem—colorful backgrounds who have each done things that have landed them in trouble with the police, with women, with gays, with just about everyone.  Remember Tipper Gore and the PMRC going after bands like 2 Live Crew?  The game has changed, and Lil Wayne and Eminem are two of the men leading the profanity parade.  But somehow, for some absolutely inexplicable reason, they are irresistible, and pulled in huge numbers performing together on Saturday Night Live last night.  Of course, they have to tone down their language on network television, but their performances didn’t suffer for it.  How can this be?  And why do we watch?

Lil Wayne: Unapologetically icky, and we love him for it.

This is Lil Wayne, the man who had $150,000 of diamonds for teeth, taking the trademark hip hop “grill” and upgrading.  But he had those removed earlier this year and replaced with delightful white veneers.  Was this because he wanted a more refined grin?  Was he responding in his own way to the worldwide recession?   Not quite.  Before he headed off to serve a possible one-year jail term for having a loaded gun on his tour bus, both he and his people thought it wise to have the gems removed before they were knocked out and traded for a few cartons of Lucky Strikes and a Carmen Electra poster.  When he was released early for good behavior, he got himself a few grills and appears almost embarrassed to show off the pearly whites.  In a video released by Weezy and some friends on LilTwistTVLive, the rapper appears shy and says he doesn’t have his grill on so he isn’t showing much.  When he does reveal his bottom teeth, it is a testament to periodontics and cosmetic dentistry.  The man who once was addicted to “purple drank”, a concoction involving vodka, Hawaiian Punch, and cough syrup with codeine had all but destroyed his homegrowns.  So we should be disgusted by him.  Especially when two different women were due to give birth to children by him within days of each other.  And they did.  But then we see videos by him and interviews with him, and we are charmed by him in spite of ourselves.  If Shakira was willing to work with him on “Give It Up to Me,” that’s good enough for me.

And what about Eminem?  He’s been reviled in the media from the beginning.  He’s had a few run-ins with the law, a weapons charge, some prescription drug problems, and so on, but that’s not why he got under peoples’ skin.  His lyrics were often seen as misogynistic.  Certainly, he said some horrible things, terrible things, the kind of things that women’s groups were not going to let him get away with.  He had two things—no, three—working in his favor: 1, he was only singing about one particular woman, his ex-wife, and not women in general; 2, the First Amendment; and 3, he was hardly the first rap artist to say such things.  He was just the first white one.  Eminem got to play the race card in reverse.  His feud with Mariah Carey and her handbag/husband Nick Cannon made waves for a while, but he’s mostly been flying under the radar lately.  We should either dislike him or have forgotten about him, right?

Eminem recently released his new album “Recovery”, and Lil’ Wayne released the track “6’7”” from his upcoming album “Tha Carter IV”.  On Saturday Night Live, The pair performed Eminem’s “No Love” and “Not Afraid”, and then segued into an acoustic version of “6’7””, and they killed it.  Now fans are hoping they collaborate on an entire album together.

And then we can all put on our dark shades and hoodies as we buy it, and only feel mildly guilty for just loving the heck out of these lunatics.

Last week, it looked like Brett Favre, the NFL’s own Humpty Dumpty, might have his Consecutive Games Started streak as broken as the many bones on his body.  When Bills’ linebacker Arthur Moats caused Favre to face-plant on his first pass of last week’s game, it seemed that his record might come to an end.  Few wept.  Sure, he’s a great quarterback, he can usually find a receiver, and he knows the game, but he’s become nothing but a giant thorn in the collective backsides of NFL staff and fans alike.  And with an injury every time he touches the field, he’s turned into Wendy Whiner.  Are you really hurt, Brett, or do you want to kick back in a recliner in a Snuggie drinking cocoa?  Just tell us.

"How do you feel, Brett?" "I CAN'T DECIDE!"

Well, he didn’t have to, because he got his day, as his prayers were answered in the form of 20 inches of snow dumped onto Minneapolis.  So while the Giants cooled their heels in Kansas City, Brett got to relax and waver back and forth, back and forth on his decision to play, as he has been known to do.  It seems that the Almighty enjoys this little game because the roof of the Metrodome collapsed in an event that can only be described as theatrical.  ‘Catastrophic’ isn’t the right word, as no injuries were reported, unless Favre pulled a muscle doing a Snoopy-esque happy dance.  Now the game that was going to be moved to a college field has been moved to Detroit, which means that the Vikings have an unplanned road trip, but it isn’t too far to go.

Through all of this, Favre has been seen throwing lightly and rubbing his arm.  With a 297-game streak, he was expected to give up on the dramatics shortly before game time to bring his number to 298.  I recall a disagreement I had with my brother in the 1990s regarding Cal Ripken Jr.’s consecutive games streak.  He argued that there comes a point when a player should bow out and do what is best for the team.  I argued that what was best for the team was to see the dedication of an older player who might only stay in for a few innings but show what commitment really is.  But football is not baseball.  There’s a big difference between third basemen who has lost a few steps and a quarterback who can’t throw.  A streak is a great thing, but Favre already has the NFL record of consecutive games started and a hefty ring covered in diamonds from Superbowl XXXI.  He’s achieved just about every possible award he can win, and he pays the fans and his teams back by doing the “will I, won’t I” game every chance he gets.  He did it so much that the Packers sent him packing, even though he had been a fan favorite and was still a great QB.

The latest news is that Brett sent a text message (you’d think he’d have learned by now) to NFL Network analyst Steve Mariucci on Sunday saying that it is “highly unlikely” that he’ll play.  However, this is Brett Favre, so Vikings interim coach Leslie Frazier was sure to note that the decision would be left until game time.  In the meantime, backup QB Tarvaris Jackson led the Vikings to victory last Sunday and is prepared to play tonight.  Although he is young and just beginning his career, he can’t be enjoying this.  He can get all pumped up and ready to play, and with 30 seconds to game time, Humpty Dumpty can decide that he wants game 298.

If Favre does play tonight and plays badly, at least he won’t have the Minnesota fans in the house ready to rain down their disgust (and thousands of empty beer cups).  This is particularly important because I doubt his linemen would bother to protect him.

Oh, to be a fly on the wall in that London pub.  Although the interview will not air until February 2011, Anderson Cooper and Lady Gaga sat down for an interview that was bound to be nothing short of Fab-U-Lous.  Certainly, the singer is charismatic, and Cooper was open about his excitement to meet with her.  “She’s obviously a fascinating person,” he told The Insider.  “What’s great about 60 Minutes is you spend a lot of time with the person you’re profiling.”  Apparently, what began as a normal interview—or as normal as one can be when the subject is Lady Gaga—turned into a night of drinking.  According to Cooper, they somehow ended up at a bar in London and Gaga was buying the shots of Jameson’s.  He claims that, after two, he had to pretty much end the interview “because I really sort of couldn’t ask any more questions.”

The Lady and The Lightweight.

Either our Anderson lost count or the silver-haired cutie-pie is a lightweight.  So a bunch of random folks in London got to witness the most eccentric musician of this era drinking one of the most respected journalists of this era under the table.  Sure, everyone and their second cousins have their camera phones out when the yahoos from Jersey Shore get into another bar fight, but no one in that city thought an interesting photo-op might develop when Anderson Cooper and Lady Gaga walk in to a pub together?  Now I know where to go if I ever plan to make an ass of myself.  Londoners don’t care who you are.

For his profile of the singer, Cooper is joining her in different cities on her Monster Ball tour.  “To be able to spend a couple of weekends with her in various places over the course of several months,” he said, “It’s really cool, and it’s really interesting and I’m learning stuff about her I never saw before.”  Whether or not he’ll go out drinking with her again is up in the air.  Anderson Cooper hardly seems like a lampshade-on-the-head kind of guy, but if anyone can bring that out in him, it would be Lady Gaga.  The 24 year-old outspoken supporter of gay rights would probably love to get a few shots into the man who has mastered the art of keeping mum regarding his private life, just so she can find out for sure what everyone else has been asking for years.  She could regale him with stories about the wild things she’s done, from her humble beginnings to designing a diamond-studded whip with matching underthings for R&B diva Beyonce.  Then she could hope that he would reveal personal things about himself to her.

Or she can just wait for an invitation to Benjamin Maisani’s bar in New York.

To paraphrase a great vice-presidential debate from the not-so-distant past, “Mr. O’Reilly, you are no Homer Simpson.” When a Fox News political commentator takes time out of his busy health care-bashing schedule to take a jab at a cartoon, there’s something not quite right. Maybe if you go on The Daily Show and have Jon Stewart throwing political barbs at you, you might need to defend yourself—or at least smirk and say nothing.  Oh, wait, you did that.  But when you get hostile towards a show made famous by an underachieving kid and a donut-eating father who sings to his pet pig, maybe it’s time to re-prioritize.

Bill, it's a cartoon.

Yes, The Simpsons took an animated swing at Fox News last Sunday, but let’s review the show.  In the opening sequence, the family was living in their own Pandora, their skin blue and glowing like diamonds while they tried to wrangle a flying couch out of the sky.  So far, James Cameron and his colossal ego have not bothered to comment about the Avatar ripoff.  Neither has former NBC chief Jeff Zucker, who was used as a guinea pig to test a deadly virus in the episode—and he was still the president of NBC when the storyline was written.  But when the Fox News helicopter approached the secret meeting of the heads of all the major networks, it had the words, “Not Racist, but #1 with Racists” written on the side.  When the network head jumped out, the pilot yelled, “We’re unbalanced!  It’s not fair!” before the helicopter crashed.  To these things, Bill O’Reilly took exception.  His comment, “Pinheads, I believe so,” may have been directed at the Fox network for allowing its cartoon characters to make fun of “the hand that feeds part of it”, but why comment at all.  It’s a cartoon.

This is not the first time that Bill O’Reilly has suffered from foot-in-mouth disease.  In January of 2009, he took on another political giant: Jessica Alba.  She had made a remark to a reporter “to be Sweden about it.”  O’Reilly called her a “pinhead” because she clearly must have been referring to Switzerland’s neutrality in World War II.  What the all-knowing political commentator with all the resources in the world didn’t seem to realize is that Sweden, too, chose to remain neutral through WWII.  That’s gotta sting, Bill.

What really needs to be addressed here is whether Bill O’Reilly is starting a battle with Fox, the network that allows him to do those things he does, or if he is trying to fight with fictional characters.  His criticism of The Simpsons comes right back at him.  Pinhead?  I believe so.

I look forward to watching The Homer Simpson Factor.

Ever since Prince William finally, after what feels like decades of headlines, slipped that pretty engagement ring on Kate Middleton’s finger, the tabloids spent about ten minutes talking about the dress she wore for the announcement and the dress she might wear for the wedding.  Then they started talking about Harry because, heir to the throne or not, he’s the one we’d all rather be looking at.  He’s the one who creates controversy and he’s the one who goes off to Africa to start a charity and continues to see it through.  And somehow, he does it all while looking just as cute as a roomful of fluffy kittens cuddling flopsy-eared bunnies.  Now he’s trying to master to bob-and-weave regarding questions about when he might someday get married.  We can only talk about Wills for so long.

"You want to do WHAT?"

While the Queen busies herself with formal parties and fireworks and all those things befitting someone of Prince William’s political stature, Prince Harry is doing things in his own gingey way.  The Queen, for example, is planning a staid engagement party that will involve heads of state, formal gowns, bowing, and kissing of rings and behinds.  Meanwhile, Harry is working on a bash that will involve performances by Snoop Dogg and British rapper Tinie Tempah.  The boys already met Tinie at the Wireless Festival and asked him to perform for them, and Harry plans to approach Snoop when the rapper and his entourage arrive in London next week.  Oh, to be in on that little get-together.  We can only hope that Harry remembers to ask in between “pass me those Cheetos, willya?” and “puff, puff, give!”  If we can rely on any of the royals to throw a good party, it will be the ginger-haired man-boy with the devilish grin.

As news of the engagement broke, Prince Harry got some good news of his own: he may get his chance to return to Afghanistan.  He didn’t want to leave the service, but he was pulled from fighting with the Household Cavalry because not only his title, but also his famous red hair, made him an easy target.  Since then he has been in training with the Army Air Corps to be an Apache Helicopter pilot, and he’s anxious to get up in the air. “At the end of the day you train for war,” he told reporters.  “It’s as simple as that.  If we could be at peace, then fantastic, but if we’re at war then you want to be with your brothers in arms.”  He plans to serve for as long as his military career and political obligations allow it, and has attended a number of services for soldiers killed in battle—including one for a close friend of his—over the past month.  How do you not love this sweet gingey boy?

Of course, this also comes on the heels of a series of articles listing the world’s most eligible royal bachelorettes.    When does that reality show start?  Evidently, he split from Chelsy Davy yet again over the summer, making him impressively hot single ginge planning some great parties.

I hope my invitation doesn’t get lost in the mail.

It is understandable to some that Canada wants to be more like the US.  America is, after all, a ‘superpower’, we’ve got a cool flag, lots of people still want to immigrate here, and we’ve still got the whole ‘mine is bigger than yours’ thing going for us.  Basically, despite the economy, 70% of Americans still feel totally comfortable saying “We’ve still got it” (I looked it up).  But then we look closer at that mysterious country above us, at our peace-loving, socialized medicine-giving, lumberjacking neighbors to the north.  The place that young people avoiding draft would go if they didn’t have rich daddies in political office.  It doesn’t look so bad.  But one place they appear to be lagging is in television ratings.  Never mind that many of Hollywood’s major movies are filmed there because it is far less costly.  Canada is ready to cash in on some of American TV’s more popular—though less enlightened—ideas.  And so we get Lake Shore, Toronto’s version of Jersey Shore.  The real difference between the shows is that Lake Shore promises to be truly and openly offensive in a way that MTV viewers can only dream.

Mind you, this is from the audition tape.

First, there are the cast members.  We have Joey the Italian, perhaps as a nod to the show’s American inspiration.  He wears a hat that reads “No. 1 WOP”, a term that could well get you killed on the streets of New Jersey, New York, or anywhere with taste.   There is also Salem, the Lebanese and token gay cast member who will strike fear into the hearts of the homophobic males on the show.  Downtown D is the Albanian who is always up for a party whether it’s Friday or Saturday night.  Sibel, the Turk, is the woman who thinks she is more beautiful than all other women, which creates an issue for Anni Mei, the Vietnamese, who wears bras as outerwear and finds herself ‘worn out’ by anyone who doubts that she is, in fact, the most beautiful.  The role of The Situation is played by Tommy Hollywood, the Czech, who favors one-armed push-ups, preferably with ladies involved.  Perhaps the most interesting conflict will be between Karolina, the Pole, who “hates everyone equally, especially the Jews” and fellow castmate Robyn, the Jew.  This brain trust indeed shares a lot with its American counterpart.

Tommy Hollywood is a better-looking version of The Situation, and he comes complete with diamonds on his watch, diamond stud earrings, and Ed Hardy t-shirts.  Instead of Gym-Tan-Laundry, however, he does, Gym-Tan-Six Different Hair Products.  He lists them.  Basically, all of the characters on the show are more like caricatures of Jersey Shore cast members, who are already bad stereotypes of everything that New Jersey and New York would rather hide.  It’s the rest of the US that watches.   Just as the most avid viewers of Lake Shore are likely to be from the most remote reaches of Saskatchewan and beyond.

The creators of Lake Shore claim that they are trying to show the “multi-cultural nature” of Toronto by having cast members of all different ethnic backgrounds.  But we know what makes for good ratings: fights.  And this show is ripe for plenty of them.

Pity I can’t be there to throw the first punch.

It isn’t just a jump from a Mel Gibson cameo to a Bill Clinton cameo.  It’s more like a surge; a vault; a trip on the light respectable even.  After replacing Gibson apparently because ‘the cast didn’t like him’ (read: movie-goers wouldn’t pay to see him) with Liam Neeson, someone we’d pay to see even with his clothes on (you’ve heard the rumors), Directors scored Moby Dick.  They got an ex-Prez, someone who has regained respect despite some, ahem, ugliness, and Bill Clinton will appear briefly—as himself, of course—in Hangover 2.  Now that’s something people will pay to see.

"America, how could I NOT say yes?"

It seems that while the film was shooting scenes in Bangkok, Clinton was there delivering a speech on clean energy.  Of course, it’s easy to see why the intern-lovin’ 42^nd President might want to spend some time in Thailand, but the point is that he was there, the film crew was there, and it worked out.  A good ol’ boy like Clinton probably loved The Hangover, which was really, outrageously funny, so playing himself in the sequel was a no-brainer.  Put together a bunch of guys playing overgrown boys and one who is still best known for not having a Tide To Go instant stain remover handy and you’ve got movie magic.  Clean energy, yes.  Clean dress, no.

There will undoubtedly be some suitable raunch in Clinton’s scene.  He will come in contact with the characters played by Bradley Cooper, Zach Galifianakis, and Ed Helms.  There are some reports that the scene involves a rickshaw.  By the time those scenes were filmed, Galifianakis had a shaved head, for whatever reason.  Perhaps Liam Neeson’s character will tattoo it later in the film.  The reality is that Bill Clinton has a known sense of humor and has nothing to fear by letting himself have some fun in his first big-screen role.  It suits his style.  He might even allow a few jokes at his own expense, something that we can’t imagine Galifianakis’s character will let slide.  How can a drunken, bald-headed Alan resist looking at Bill Clinton in Bangkok and not soberly pronounce “I did not have sex with that woman”?  It is not in the celluloid-created DNA of Alan to not say it.

Another addition to the cast of Hangover 2 is Paul Giamatti, who is genius at everything he ever does.  So far, he has just shown up on set and the role he will play in the film is entirely unknown, but is expected that it will be little more than an extended cameo, since much of the movie is already done.

With the beloved core cast and the impressive list of cameos—which no longer includes Mel Gibson—Hangover Part II now has a good chance of being more popular than the original.  They’ve got an ex-President, for heaven’s sake.

Take that, Avatar 2!

Maybe if you were looking for drugs…

It seems that Lindsay Lohan, having spent much of this year in either courtrooms, jail, or rehab, is thinking of opening her own rehab facilities.  This is according to her mother, Dina Lohan, who was delighted to be interviewed in the light of day on the Today Show. The “Momager”—a strange, mutant Hollywood mother/manager hybrid—is more accustomed to bleary-eyed after-club camera-dodging at 3am.  Apparently all the time without chemicals has given Lindsay a bit of clarity.  Owning a recovery center would save her a lot of money, which she could then spend on beautiful fashions to cover the alcohol-monitoring anklets that have become a regular accessory for her.  She has already become a master at creating outfits that conceal the SCRAM bracelet, wearing everything from high boots to wide-leg pantsuits, and even working out in public wearing long black pants that not only hide the SCRAM but make her appear healthy as well.

"Wait, what? Why not? After my fashion line was so successful..."

While in rehab this summer, Lindsay mentioned that she needed to come to terms with the damage that had been done to her and her family by delinquent daddy Michael Lohan.  Therapy must have done wonders, as the two met at Lindsay’s request at the Betty Ford Center in LA and had what was noted as a “tearful reunion”.  After a long conversation, the two ex-cons hit up a nearby street fair and some local shops.  They spent an exceptionally long time in one of LA’s high-end jewelry stores, where the starlet found herself interested in several items.  Perhaps a nice diamond necklace for herself to commemorate her reunion with her father?  Maybe she just wants something new and sparkly to look at for her remaining 8 weeks at Betty Ford.

Naturally, the Momager has still been hard at work thinking of ways to exploit her daughter’s fame.  She is has been shopping around for a network to pick up a reality show about Lindsay’s experiences in rehab, although her daughter is not at all interested in this.  She plans to use photos and video that she takes of her daughter during casual “family visits” to create a show on which she will, naturally, act as executive producer.  While Michael Lohan has voiced his disgust at the idea, it is difficult to believe that he turned into Wonder-Dad overnight.  One day of shopping does not a good father make, particularly when Lindsay was footing the bill.

In Dina Lohan’s interview with Matt Lauer, she spoke about the possibility of Lindsay owning recovery clinics.  “She wants to start her own facilities, help other children,” Dina said. “She’s so public, we can only be positive and look to the future to help other families.”  It’s truly a lovely thought, and it would get plenty of attention.  But how much credibility can a place have when it’s started by someone who’s been in and out of rehab more times than most people have been into bars?  While we can all only hope that it works this time for the 24 year-old, it’s tough when her support network is relying on her failure for their next paychecks.

The Lindsay Lohan Recovery Center/Bar and Grill.  A Hollywood original.

It seems that almost everyone wants to dress up as either Lady Gaga or one of the little disasters from Jersey Shore.  T-shirts with silk-screened abs are very popular, and Snooki wigs are hopping off of the shelves like lice out of the Smush Room.  But with Lady Gaga, there are so many choices as to which fashion disaster one can mimic.  Drag queens all over the world are finding themselves in quite a quandary.  Is it practical and financially possibly to acquire and dismember enough Kermit the Frog dolls to recreate Gaga’s infamous frog frock?  Is it safe to walk around in fishnets, a bra, and a Yankees Jersey?  Definitely not in Boston or Texas, but that’s another issue.  Is there any way to imitate the crown of diamonds from her insanely popular video for “Bad Romance”?   There are so many questions when it comes to dressing like Lady Gaga.  Even when it isn’t Halloween.

Toxoplasmosis: a small price to pay for a great Haloween costume.

A Connecticut newspaper thought itself responsible for making the public aware of certain dangers associated with dressing like the Grammy-winning singer.  The Hartford Courant felt it necessary to warn readers of the possible ramifications of wearing a dress made of raw meat, as the singer famously did at this year’s Video Music Awards.  Apparently, donning uncooked beef puts a person at a risk of getting campylobacteriosis, which can lead to dystentery, muscle aches, fever, and various other symptoms.  Another possibility, according to the article, is that your prime rib hat or meat purse can lead to toxoplasmosis, a bacterial infection that can cause brain damage or even death.  Yes, meat can not only be murder, but suicide as well.

When it comes to the Meat Dress idea, I just can’t figure out whether to use a pattern or a recipe.

Other popular costumes this year come from films, with lots of Edwards and Bellas running around hand-in-hand; characters from Tim Burton’s Alice in Wonderland, including Alice, the Queen of Hearts, and the Mad Hatter in particular; various of the creatures from Avatar; and Harry Potters and Jack Sparrows by the score.

Even more disturbing than the Meat Dress is Antoine Dodson’s attempt to cash in on his 15 minutes by creating an Antoine Dodson: Bed Intruder costume.  In his homemade advertisement, he warns people that when trick-or-treaters arrive, to “hide yo kids, hide yo wife”.  Charming, and obviously a huge moneymaker.

For anyone with less than $1000 and a willing butcher with extra flank steak, simple Barack Obama masks are wildly popular, although wearing them in Tea Party states might be more dangerous than a Meat Dress on a hot night in a yard full of angry pit bulls.

Maybe it’s wise to stay in this year with a nice ice luge and good friends.