The Mock Dock

Wow.

If she didn’t have pervs following her before, she surely will now.

HI PERVS!

PS.  “Frisson” – seriously?  GAWD.

BEHOLD: Ashley thinking she’s profound:

Can I just express to you how ridiculous all of that psychobabble nonsense sounds? It is SO RIDICULOUS.

Naturally, her uber-fans oo’d and ah’d all over her profundity, and questioned her about it further. She replied to one person:

She seeks rest and spaciousness inside of herself, you guys, and this apparently requires morning prayer and mediation, because once again, she cannot spell “meditation” correctly.

I will never understand people’s attraction to this new age bullsh*t.  Just freaking BE, people.

Sorry for being all non-posty today, mockdockers, but it was Indy 500 day, and I was there with Mr. Mock to soak up all the festivities. And this year, the B2 bomber, which is my MOST FAVORITE PIECE OF MACHINERY ON THE PLANET, did the flyover. I cannot express to you the amount of love I have for that spectacular plane. Seeing it in person always gives me the weepy glees. I don’t know why, exactly, the weeps come, but they do. I think because it’s the same for me as seeing something incredibly beautiful or hearing an amazing singer – I just get overcome with emotion from those things.

Yes. I am a cheeseball.

So I weepygleed over that, and then I got the weeps over Taps, which I ALWAYS get, because there is just something totally magnificent about 350,000 people becoming utterly and completely SILENT when Taps is being played by a single trumpet.

Kelly Clarkson and Seal sang the National Anthem as a duet, which I was kinda worried would be a hot mess but actually turned out to be ok. Parts of it were, in fact, quite nice. But I still will always prefer the National Anthem being sung the way it was originally written. I’m a traditionalist like that.

Anyway, it was a fun but exhausting day. And best of all? Ashley’s husband didn’t win, which meant that we were all spared what would have inevitably been a long diatribe from her in a post race interview. YAY!

Today, some dude from South Africa sent this tweet to Ashley Judd:

And she replied, indignantly:

I cannot tell you how much I giggled over this.  But Ashley is not a person who is especially lacking in the self-esteem department.  In fact, she’s one of the most self-promoting, self-absorbed, self-involved, self-serving, self-centered people ever, so she bounced back just an hour later by tweeting this:

NAUSEATING.

I think you know what this calls for.

Have you guys heard about this ridiculous planking phenomenon – where you just lie down like a plank in random places and have a photo taken of yourself doing it? It’s completely stupid, but it’s apparently a Big Deal.

Ashley Judd is filming her ridiculous new TV series in Croatia right now, and because she’s all new age-y and yoga-riffic, she put her own spin on planking and tweeted this photo of herself doing a side plank pose next to the Adriatic sea.

Her followers slobbered all over her twitter page about it in response, like total sheep.  You should see some of the things that people tweet to her, you guys.  It’s positively nauseating.  Here are a couple of examples:

1. Finished reading All That Is Bitter and Sweet by Ashley Judd.  My mind+body+spirit have never been so aligned in love+purpose.

2. The light within you is so beautiful. Thank you for the inspiration!

I don’t know why I look at that stuff. I suppose the hate just compels me. Anyway, here are some photos of her during some of the on-location filming of this horrible looking series (see post below this one.)

I’m serious, you guys. I actually laughed out loud at the end of this ridiculous looking trailer for Ashley Judd’s new TV series coming this fall. It’s called Missing, and it’s described by this hilarious sourcelink as follows:

“Ashley Judd as a former badass CIA lethal killer turned housewife? I’ll believe it when I see more than 90-seconds of it. It’s funny, because I don’t think we actually see any of Judd in this quick-cutting trailer, which is also full of generic (and badly staged) action scenes and sound effects. Having Judd sitting in a chair and narrating the cliched plot (“Her past comes back to haunt her!”) doesn’t exactly help sell this thing, either. Overall, I’ve seen worst TV trailers, but not by much.”

The last line is what made me totally crack up. “God help whoever has him.” Mmm hmm. Ok, Ashley. You’re so scaaaaaary.

GAWD.

Last night, Mr. Mock and I went on a date – and because we’re fans of exploring places we’ve never been, we decided to let that handy dandy iPhone app “Urban Spoon” direct us to a new place to eat. Lutz’s Steakhouse was selected, and from the moment we arrived into the country-club style restaurant which sorta smelled like an assisted-living facility, we were in love.

We were the youngest people there, by at least a couple of decades. The service? Phenomenal. The food? Really quite good. I had the lobster bites, which ended up being a bit too deep fried for my taste but it was easy to get around the batter and go straight for the good stuff. And the au gratin potatoes? TO DIE FOR.

But hands down, the best part was the live entertainment, which consisted of two old dudes, one who primarily played the piano/synthesizer, and another guy who looked like Jimmy McMillan, who walked around the front part of the restaurant (which we were sadly not in but could still see), and crooned Al Green and Barry White-esque songs at the adorable old couples sitting near the front. Several couples got up and danced on the tiny little dance floor, and “Jimmy” followed them, smiling and singing at them. I couldn’t stop beaming at the entire scene. It was GLORIOUS. I kept telling Mr. Mock that it was a total SHAME we were sitting in the back, because I would have been his most enthusiastic and interactive fan. We found out later from the owner that he’s seventy-one, thinks he’s far too old to be doing these “shows” but his “following” is quite good, and he comes to that restaurant monthly. Naturally, we will return and I will demand priority seating.

After that we went to see Atlas Shrugged (Part One) which was pretty good, except totally frustrating since Part Two doesn’t come out for another year. And I slept till 10am this morning, which was fabulous, and then I read a review of Ashley Judd’s book which had a couple of lines it that totally amused me:

About her annoying way of speaking: “…one also hopes that she will someday learn to put her experiences in plainer English. Whereas most of us might say, ‘I took a nap,’ Judd elaborates, ‘My nap had the dual purpose of essential rest and psychological relief.’”

About her ridiculous way of describing experiences: “A curious feature of the book is that Judd’s husband, Dario Franchitti, the professional race car driver, is almost missing in action. He comes across far less vividly than Buttermilk (the cockapoo) or Percy (the cat). ‘Lost children’ love pets, we are informed. Even those of us who dote on our four-footed friends might have to suppress a giggle at the spectacle of Judd’s bonding with a bonobo on one of her international trips: ‘He was mischievous, tender, playful, and in general an angel from God, who blessed me with an incredible experience, rare and heart-expanding, that soothed me deeply.’ Ashley, he’s an ape!”

And about her humanitarian experiences: “These vivid scenes are marred, however, by Judd’s emotionalism — too often the story is her feelings. She is so distraught at one point that she must call her yoga instructor in Hollywood.”

I don’t even have to read that tripe now, because I know that’s PRECISELY how I would review it. LOVE.

This post needs a photo:

Apparently, we’re all a bunch of pansies. Just FYI.

You guys, Ashley Judd’s getting a CRAPLOAD of flak for a comment she made in her book about hip hop, and how misogynistic it is. If you look at her twitter feed, it’s full of wackjobs yelling at her over it. As much as I loathe the woman, I do sort of agree with her that it’s sick and wrong when hip hop music degrades women and uses totally foul language to describe them. Not to mention the fact that I’m just not really a fan of the music to begin with.

Anyway, my point is that she’s responding to some of that in this video clip, and there are tons of opportunities for you to check off your bingo squares in it. SHOCK – she doesn’t mention the god of her understanding in this one. But I promise you she uses tons of other ones.

What she DOES mention, though, is that she’s entirely aware of the press she’s been getting over the book, which means she’s a big fat liar when she says that she’s staying “abstinent to the press” and their reaction to it. In fact, she tweeted, “Grateful for an accurate piece about the family part of my book Hope focus can go where it belongs: Human rights!” along with a link to the piece she felt was accurate. I guess her abstinence isn’t really to PRESS – it’s just to BAD press.

I forgot to tell you guys that I got the best email ever from an alert and astute mockdocker yesterday which totally made me giggle. It was from Elizabeth who said, “I sincerely hope when my husband comes home he asks ‘How was your day?’ and not ‘What did you do today?’ Because if he asks the latter question and I answer ‘I read 17 webpages about Ashley Judd’s absorbing self-absorption while eating 3 chocolate chip cookie dough Lara bars,’ he might lose a teeny tiny bit of respect for me. Although I think it might be worth it. Thanks for the laffs!!!!”

BEST EMAIL EVER.

I swear, this family is INSANE.

According to this, Naomi Judd is now revealing for the first time that she was sexually abused at age 3, and that she doesn’t trust her mother. And Wynonna has revealed that she too, was sexually abused, and hasn’t yet faced her attacker. Both Naomi and Wynonna claim that all three of the Judd women get along just fabulously, even though Ashley just crapped all over the two of them in her new book.

Interestingly, however, even though Ashley keeps telling all of the media outlets that her mom has read her book, Naomi begs to differ. Whoops.

TRAINWRECKS. All of them.