..... Philadelphia Story, High Society, Royal Wedding, and now Fiddler on The Roof..... good grief..... I've heard more singing and watched more dancing today than I previously considered humanly possible..... having said that, I will concede that Cary Grant was one handsome sumbitch..... but I still have to lean towards the chick who was digging Jimmy Stewart in Philadelphia Story over Katherine Hepburn all day long and twice on Sunday.... brunettes over redheads all day long.....and the Jews?..... they got the shaft big-time......... Fiddler on The Roof is a sad and heroic masterpiece.....
... and Jane Powell?..... she's just as cute as a little nubbin..... even if she is a blonde.......
.... and hey, don't even get me started talking about Elizabeth Taylor in her late-teenage years.... my goodness..... but I digress.......
... in other news, I am very happy & extremely humbled to report that a piece that I submitted to a Southern online literary journal has been accepted and published....... at Muscadine Lines - A Southern Journal...... my very first acceptance for a piece of fiction, good god....... so go forth and read if you so desire....... although the story may be one that y'all recognize from here on the blog...... it may still be new to a few of you guys...... and I hope that you enjoy it....
Ruth Hussey over Katherine Hepburn? Are you daft?? Hmph. I supposed you fancied Thelma Ritter over Grace Kelly, too.
Also, did you know Cary Grant (a stiltwalker in Coney Island before he went to Hollywood), instead of having two front teeth, had a single front tooth in the middle of his mouth.
Hell raised by Erica on February 28, 2008 09:32 PM
I prematurely commented...I also wanted to wish you a mazel tov on the event of your first published work. I remember reading it, and absolutely loving it.
Best of luck with the novel (oy, I think I'll stick to blogging).
Hell raised by Erica on February 28, 2008 09:34 PM
It has been far too long since I have graced your site. How fortunate for me to find this post at the forefront. You have a strong and pleasing way with words my friend. Best of luck in getting more of your work out to the world at large.
As for your comments on the wenches of classic films ... Give me Maureen O'Hara or give me death!!
Hell raised by Guy S on February 28, 2008 09:49 PM
If it doesn't work this time then to hell with it, you will suffer through without my bits of wisdom!
I loved the story when I first read it and the second time (with a modification or two?) was still a wonderful addition to my coffee time! Congratulations, I fear it will not be long before we all are able to say "I knew him before he was famous."
Dude, lay off of the musicals, please for the love of all things wonderful, find some real drama to entertain yourself with!
That reminds me to reserve my tickets for "Hello Dolly" in a couple of weeks, thanks. The sacrifices we make for the sake of art are staggering.
Hell raised by Michelle on February 29, 2008 06:56 AM
Congrats, man!
Hell raised by That 1 Guy on February 29, 2008 07:05 AM
Now more of the world can read your words. The tale is as good now as before. Places anyone ever shot at in battle right there beneath the wall. You have a gift my friend. Keep it up.
You're on your way brother. Just remember all us little guys that suffered through reading your bloggy crap whilst you tuned up the writin' style that'll make you rich and famous... Heh...
Hell raised by Winston on February 29, 2008 07:55 AM
Congrats, chief!
Hell raised by Tommy on February 29, 2008 08:07 AM
Congratulations Eric!!!!
Hell raised by Tammi on February 29, 2008 08:26 AM
What a fantastic high for you! I bet you float for days.
Hell raised by Sugar Britches on February 29, 2008 08:56 AM
Wonderful news! Oh and Philadelphia Story is my all-time favorite movie. I can nearly quote it line for line. I sing "Lydia" in my sleep. But, it is hardly a musical, unless you count Jimmy singing somewhere Over the Rainbow. While Katherine sighs, "my feet are made of clay, made of clay, did you know?"
Ahhh, I love that movie.
Hell raised by oddybobo on February 29, 2008 09:55 AM
congrats of the highest order on your published debut
Hell raised by hoosierboy on February 29, 2008 10:25 AM
You did tell that Rhodes whoman you were the Devil, didn't you?
Congrats, hoss. I had another essay picked up by The Mule as well.
Hell raised by bitterman on February 29, 2008 11:57 AM
Congrats!
But, really, that's the first time you've been published? That's surprising.
Hell raised by Freddie on February 29, 2008 12:27 PM
OUTSTANDING! One of these days after you make a couple of million with the novel and the movie screen play I can brag to the neighbors that I know you...I think I'll put all them e-mails on file ..just in case, huh?
..... it isn't often that I ask for help on this little blog, but tonight is a bit different.... bear with me, please, as this is quite tedious...... and hey, I don't have the answers...... but I suspect that you guys do.... and hey, you guys all came through like a house on fire when I was seeking answers to the glass-polishing fiasco that I was embroiled in a few years ago........ so, here goes.....
..... when one is making deviled eggs, the proper placement of the yolk inside the egg is highly important..... if it is too close to the shell, well, you end up with an egg which has an outer wall that is unfit for deviling...... so, it seems to me that there must be a way of shaking, spinning, or otherwise joogling the egg (prior to boiling) that will ensure that the yolk is properly positioned in the "center" of the egg...... and thus ensuring a perfectly positioned yolk within each boiled egg......
..... so, fess up, hammerheads........ any ideas?..... tonight's deviled eggs (there were only two) were pretty hit-or-miss....... one egg ended up perfect once it had been sliced, but the other yielded two halves which were exceedingly less than ideal.......
..... it may seem like something small, sure...... but when you only have two boiled eggs to make four deviled ones?....... you gotta make every shout count........
...... so...... what do I do to ensure that each yolk is properly aligned before boiling?...... c'mon, who has the magic?....
You need to jog to Wallyworld and buy their special deviled-egg spinner. They move them around the store a lot, so be sure and ask the manager where they are this week.
When my Granny is going to be making deviled eggs, she takes the eggs out of the carton a couple of days before and lays them horizontally on a cushy handtowel in the fridge. Supposedly, that lets the yolk move to the center of the egg because you're displacing the little air pocket at the top of the egg (that is there as a sort of cushion against vibration and sound). At least that's what my Granny says. And her deviled eggs are always pretty perfect...of course it could just be the magical triangle of good eats that extends from her fridge to her stove to her table...
You have got to live closer to the equator to get them just right. Of course if you go the Peyote buttons route, who knows, you may be able to open the doors of perception enough to grasp a wrangle hold and pull the equator closer to you subsequently stabilizing the outer limits of ionosphere to within just one step beyond the epicenters of the egg masses thereby discombobulating the eccentricities of the laying hen's ovulatory and calcification processes. Suffice it to say that at this point you will have arrived at the knowledge required to decipher, in Old French, Perdues first law of imbalanced gravitational proclivities toward non-centered egg masses, and you will almost assuredly have arrived back at whence you had started - confused as all hell in an upside down position with red paint all over your face.
Therefore, should you still be in possession of even one iota of control over your little gray cells, your intelligence that has not been fried by the Barbecuing Zuni Hens in your Peyote driven dreams will have you realize that the best use of those eggs is to mix them with a cup of flour, cups of sugar, a dash of salt, and a few ounces of melted baker's chocolate, gobs of butter, and two or three handfuls of Moroccan hashish. Bake at 325 for about 45 minutes in a 9x9 pan, and even if you don't get it quite right, if you have added the proper amount of hashish into the mix, you will reach Nirvana tonight no mater what Frank Zappa may have had to say about Stinkfoot.
Hope this was helpful. Deviled eggssess indeedy do!
All the best, Glenn B
PS: I do not condone illegal drug use, but hypothetically speaking I imagine a few Peyote buttons and a pan of Hash Brownies would do you right for this project. Don'tforget a bottle of Annie Green Springs or Applejack.
Hell raised by Glenn B on February 28, 2008 12:38 AM
All of a sudden, I am hungry! Go figure...
Hell raised by Glenn B on February 28, 2008 12:42 AM
I have the answer for ya, or what I do anyway.. You make about ten percent more than ya need and the ones that don't come out right, you eat before they go to the table! See, so simple and everyone makes it so hard!!
I am also reminded of the stoopid, timeless joke, in which a man walks into a poultry shop and asks the butcher, "Do you have any henways," and the butcher, perplexed, is like, "What's a henway?," so the dude is like, "Oh, 10-11 pounds."
Bwahahahahahaha!!
I don't suppose this is helping much in your quest for an answer.
Hell raised by Erica on February 28, 2008 02:25 AM
As my dear old Daddy told my Mama every time she made deviled eggs:
"What an awful thing to do to a perfectly good boiled egg."
Hell raised by Jerry on February 28, 2008 07:52 AM
As my dear old Daddy told my Mama every time she made deviled eggs:
"What an awful thing to do to a perfectly good boiled egg."
Hell raised by Jerry on February 28, 2008 07:53 AM
I'm with Jerry's daddy.
Hell raised by Teresa on February 28, 2008 11:09 AM
Let the egg hatch then devil the chick.
Hell raised by DanToom on February 28, 2008 11:25 AM
Lasers.
Hell raised by bitterman on February 28, 2008 03:07 PM
I have a comment, but MuNuvia won't let me post it. Whaddup wit dat?
Hell raised by Elisson on February 28, 2008 03:54 PM
...and, by the way, if you were planning a Romantic Evening, Deviled Eggs may not be the optimum strategy, brother...unless Dutch Ovens are in your plans...them cackleberries can be downright toxic...
Hell raised by Elisson on February 28, 2008 03:55 PM
At this website: http://whatscookingamerica.net/Eggs/DeviledEggs.htm it said the same thing as Joan... though it just said to tape the carton shut and turn it on its side... and it also said to use older eggs. Interesting the things I learn from your posts.
Hell raised by vw bug on February 28, 2008 05:22 PM
Gotta get your own hen and watch for when the eggs pop out. The ones laid on Wednesdays, the middle of the week will be perfectly centered. The further the day from Wednesday, the more off center the yolk. Either that, or it's just pure luck...
Hell raised by Winston on February 28, 2008 06:11 PM
Ask Martha Stewart - her method for boiling is great and works everytime so, she ought to know.
.... there is a storm coming tonight.... and Townes Van Zandt is playing an acoustic set from the stereo behind me while I watch the wind in the trees outside..... the temperature has hovered in the mid-40s all day, but a steady 10mph breeze that has gusted to 25mph occasionally has made the day feel much, much colder.....
.... as it stands right now with dusk quickly approaching, we're predicted to get either snow, sleet, or rain after nightfall.... so our local meteorologists are covering all of their bases as they try to blab over Townes from the living room..... but one thing is for sure, the wind has absolutely howled all afternoon.....
... it's been one of those odd days bereft of clouds or blue..... just the hazy, shape-less grey.... like the smoke I once saw swirling in a Antwerpen hookah cafe.... thick, ashen, and contained..... impenetrable... a sky that is laden with moisture and is anxious to release it.... a sky which turns more and more icy-blue as the evening fades....
.... I bumped the button to turn the heat up about an hour ago.... from 74 to 75 degrees....and there are fresh flannel sheets on the bed for when cocktail hour is finished and bedtime has arrived....
.... damnation, I must be getting old...... once upon a time, I'd be sitting here glancing out the window while I rechecked my pack and laced my boots for hiking..... hoping that I could get my tent up before the snowflakes or the rain started arriving.... and now?..... I'm gleefully looking forward to snuggling under flannel and grinning while the wind groans against the windows.....
.... you know, I like to think that I'm not really getting soft.... that somehow I just find myself with much less to prove to My Self..... and you know, that may be correct..... perhaps I truly have finally arrived at some great and momentous understanding of Self, Life, and Happiness that is normally only achieved by the greatest yogis, scholars, and theologians......
... then again, I'm probably just getting soft....
.... but either way, there is still a storm coming tonight...... and while I won't be battling it like I once did years ago, I am still going to enjoy the hell out of it..... that's the most important part anyway....
You're not old until you say, "this is great sleeping weather!"
It's all good up until that moment.
But I'm pretty sure you could, if necessary, tie on the boots and sling the pack and trudge the snowy terrain, if the reason was good enough. So no, you're not soft so much as you are a man of different priorities.
You have a beautiful wife waiting there, all snuggled in those flannel sheets, after all.
Hell raised by Joan of Argghh! on February 26, 2008 10:22 PM
Old? That's crazy! Only your perspective changes . I'm sitting here in North West Georgia tonight...we've had some wicked weather earlier..and now the rain is gone, but the wind is blowing big time and it's getting cold.
I don't think it's "getting soft", I think of it more as ...a comfort, something to enjoy, , something to snuggle down deep within our warm, comfy,pillowy, soft beds.
.... it seems that my quiet little neighborhood now has a jogger.... which is fine, I suppose.... I mean, it's good that some folks want to stay fit and healthy and all that..... the curious thing is that she doesn't seem to want to get too far away from home.....
.... Eagle Glen (my neck of the woods) is configured in the shape of an oblong loop with a few curves & fishtails thrown in to break up the monotony.... and if you walk the entirety of the loop (including the frontage to the main county road) it measures precisely one and one-half miles.... all in all, a fairly nice, round distance for anyone who wishes to put a little rubber to the road..... indeed, I myself have spent the occasional summer evening walking the loop to get the old heart rate up before beginning rib-grilling duties..... our jogger though, well, she doesn't do any looping that I can see.....
.... it's quite odd, really..... clad in earmuffs, gloves, sunglasses, a balaclava, sweatshirt, and sweatpants, she jogs past my house & down to the curve.... slows... turns... walks halfway back to her house and then sprints home..... at her furthest most, I reckon that she is only two hundred yards from her mailbox.... I tell you, for a nosy neighbor like myself, her road-running behavior is absolutely vexing... perhaps she is just trying to get in a little exercise whilst baking cookies or something... I just don't know....
.... the problem is that when I am perched in my usual television viewing seat all that I see is the top of her head bobbing along the bottom of my living room window... which, of course, forces me to rise from my couch, break away from my highly educational television show, and see what the hell the jogger is up to..... and she keeps this up (on and off - taking numerous breaks to disappear inside her house) for most of the late afternoon and early evening.....
.... why doesn't she just run the damn loop and get it over with?.... perhaps she committed some heinous crime and is under "house arrest"?.... and her ankle bracelet will notify the authorities if she gets too far away from home?..... hmmm.... that thought certainly adds a bit of edginess to the neighborhood.....
... then again, I do sometimes imagine that she has a kitchen full of treats, cookies, and cakes that are so incredibly yummy that no human on Earth could resist them... and that after she's succumbed to some scrumptious delight, she is suddenly overcome by a tsunami of angst and shame.... so she jumps into her sweat suit and jog-walks a few hundred yards in a vain attempt to work those donuts she'd just gnawed on off of her thighs.....
... either way, it certainly is odd behavior....
.... I suppose that I could go and check my mailbox the next time that she runs past and ASK her what she's up to...... but really, what would be the fun in that?.....
Your speculation is too funny for words! What you don't realize is you've fallen prey to her intrigue. She's really a spy and knowing how curious you are, she decided to engage in some odd behavior to draw you out of your protstrated state on the couch, so you'll actually go out and talk to her. Then her machevellian plan, of pumping you for all your past military secrets, will finally fall into place!
It's either that or she's trying to get her metabolic rate going through her short spurts of energy. Women's metabolism is different from men's and that's one method dr's use to begin boosting metabolism.
Hell raised by Michele on February 25, 2008 03:30 PM
A few years ago, a friend of mine who was a 55 year old couch potato, decided that she wanted to change her life and train to run one of those marathons for breast cancer. She started out much like you describe the lady in your post. She had no stamina at all....hadn't exercised in years. So it was baby steps...tiny, short little jogs. Now, she runs marathons twice a year, can bench press something like twice her weight, and can kick the butt of someone half her age. So maybe your friend is just starting out. Be careful though....someday she just might be able to kick your butt!
Hell raised by DogsDontPurr on February 25, 2008 03:42 PM
When Lent is over and I can eat sweets again (I am starting to count the damn days) I must try this cookie/jog thing of which you speak. Alas... I think it has a name. Its called, "Burning the candle at both ends."
But jogging short spirts to burn of homemade chocolate chip cookies... I'm drooling. I need cookies.
jogging is a commie plot! The idea is burned into our minds by the same people that tell that that eating broccoli is patriotic and they are all Obama supporters..which I figure is about the same thing as being an athletic supporter.
Ha! people do the damnedest things... Note to self - no jogging. Too much ice out there now anyway.
Hell raised by Richmond on February 25, 2008 05:55 PM
You just waiting till spring and she breaks out her shorty jogging shorts and cling tops,, pervert
Hell raised by James old guy on February 25, 2008 07:08 PM
she's a spy, I tell ya. She's working for the otherside- the Screaming Horde of Chipmunks. She's a squirrel whore. She's helps them gets their, um, nut, for helping. She's trying to find the best time that you AREN'T looking so they can plan their parachute attack on you. It'll be next week sometime before they drop in though...
Hell raised by holder on February 25, 2008 07:42 PM
Very suspicious. Probably some hideous crime behind all of this. Most likely involving broccoli.
Hell raised by Cappy on February 25, 2008 08:17 PM
Didn't you know that there has been some recent evidence that running in a short burst immediately after sex (and running out the door doesn't count) burns twice as many calories as regular running, so you only have to run half the distance. Knowing this kernal of information, your jogger's behavior made perfect sense to me.
Beware young Eric! Beware, me lad! She is undoubtedly doin' the devils due and has her sights set on snaring you for her own. With that accomplished, you'll find yourself being dragged into bondage -- a sordid life of wild animal sex, chocolate chip cookies, and broccoli.
Else she doesn't know the road makes a loop and that she can go all the way around.
If the former, just have the beautiful Missus walk out into the light as the jogger passes. Observing the formidable opposition will scare her away forever... the weird jogger... not the Missus...
Hell raised by Winston on February 26, 2008 07:30 AM
It's a plot Eric. She wants to see if she can drive you crazy. *grin*
Hell raised by Teresa on February 26, 2008 03:10 PM
Third try now, all I keep geeting is a pop up about spam and to try myy comment later; but I have to run (to a stress tst at the docs) and my time has run out trying to comment on her running. What a drag.
Hell raised by Glenn B on February 26, 2008 03:52 PM
Fourth try now, all I keep geeting is a pop up about spam and to try myy comment later; but I have to run (to a stress tst at the docs) and my time has run out trying to comment on her running. What a drag.
Hell raised by Glenn B on February 26, 2008 03:53 PM
Why don't you set up a lawn chair and sit outside with some beers and just watch her for a bit. That might get exhausting though.
Hell raised by upset waitress on February 26, 2008 05:07 PM
Does she happen to have a baby monitor on her? That's about the range of one of those things and if she has a child and puts him down for the usual afternoon nap, she could get a little exercise while staying close to the house and going back in to check on him in between jaunts.
..... you know, I never realized it before, but Glenn Miller looks like one helluva sneaky fella with those puckered lips and those wire-rimmed glasses.....
.... anyway, I've been up to lots of things offline today and don't feel like posting.... and since I am off to cook some fabulously stuffed chicken breasts in a few minutes, I figure that the very least I can do is to share with you hammerheads what I have had on repeat here in the blogroom for the last little while as I sewed up some proverbial loose ends.....
.... enjoy......God knows that I certainly have.....
... the bit at 3:16 is the best part, if you ask me......
.... you guys have a nice night..... I'm off to bake chicken and mash potatoes.....
The RCA Victor recording he made of String-a Poils is unmatched in smoothness anywhere...IMO. Except, mebbeh, for Tuxedo Junction.
Essen in gesinterheit.
Hell raised by Erica on February 24, 2008 06:24 PM
How do you get kleenex inside a chicken titty? Does the paper taste good?
Hell raised by RedNeck on February 24, 2008 09:58 PM
SMOOOOOOOOOOTH. To be sure. Read somewhere that ol' Glen was tough to get along with. Not a very likeable person..could have been due to the pain of genius. Became moot however when he augered in into the English Channel in the winter of '44. An untimely end to be sure but for a noble cause and far more fitting than checking out from a drug overdose. Which seems to be the end of a lotta musicians and celebs these days.
Hell raised by Tbird on February 26, 2008 06:05 PM
..... I ended up making a strange chili-esque meal for this evening's enjoyment - substituting frozen sweet corn for the usual kidney beans.......it wasn't intentional, of course, but sometimes the hiccups of grocery shopping make themselves noticeable in the strangest of ways.... thus, obviously, the sweet corn.....
... in truth though, it wasn't half bad..... the crunchy sweetness of the corn made a marked difference from the chewy "plop" of biting into a ripe bean...... oh, and I added about seven slices of Monterey Pepperjack cheese just before I ladled it all out into bowls....... I have a distinct feeling that doing so made ALL the difference..... well, that and all the sour cream that I topped it with......
..... all in all, it was pretty damned tasty.........
..... but hell, it never ceases to amaze me how that when one has corn chips and something that remotely resembles chili, you just can't go wrong...... it is absolutely impossible....... .and I suppose that it helps that the folks around here seem to be genetically predisposed to "dipping".... (that includes both myself AND my Scottish missus who had never seen a tortilla chip until quite recently..)....
...... wow.... dipping, tortillas, chili, and cheese?..... I trust that the rest of you guys are off huffing and puffing over the Presidential debates or whatever?...... in truth, I suppose that I should be right there with you instead of focusing on the cost of a gallon of salsa instead.....
.... then again, that may very well be the point......... and hey, that reminds me.... how is Obama on illegal immigration anyway?..... .I know that McCain isn't going to deny me my authentic (home-cooked) nachos on Friday afternoons..... but what say the Democrats??....... are they dippers or no?..... priorities, people...... we gotta have our priorities......
..... and remember, never elect anyone that you don't want to have dinner with........ even if it is just a huge plate of beef & cheese nachos served by the freshest immigrants around....
Dude! Yesterday you gave me an ear worm. Now you've got me *jonesin* for chili and nachos! I'm gonna have to start reading this blog with my hands over my ears and one eye closed! Maybe I even need to get somebody to pre~read for me and tell me if it's safe!
Hell raised by DogsDontPurr on February 24, 2008 01:07 AM
What sucks is when you realize that you just consumed the last jar of homemade salsa and now must suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune...and commercial salsa!
Hell raised by Rey B on February 24, 2008 08:54 AM
And let us not even forgot the farts. My home made salsa is chock filled with so many gas generating ingredients...a simple fart is getting by easy.
I'm talking the long winded (pun intended), undershorts flapping kind of farts which will silence a room (and evacuate it).
Hell raised by Braden on February 24, 2008 10:24 AM
MMMMMMMM, I know what is going on MY grocery list today!
Hell raised by Maeve on February 24, 2008 10:36 AM
I am leaning toward the best looking spouse format for my vote. I am partial to tall leggy blondes so McCain wins. I bet she was a real hottie back in the day.
Hell raised by james old guy on February 24, 2008 11:16 AM
I'm no Mexican, but my cook taught me how to make the best green chili salsa. You have to have access to Tomatillas though. My customers love it so much I have to ship it out regularly.
Hell raised by upset waitress on February 24, 2008 07:41 PM
McCain might try to restrict your right to free speech but I don't think he will come after my guns. Obamma will try to get it all and send it to New Orleans and Hillary? She is a dip...
.... it appears that I'll be attending another concert at the Tennessee Theatre next month..... and it should prove to be quite a bit different from all of the previous concerts I've seen there...
.... so far I've been blessed to have seen John Prine, John Hiatt, Nanci Griffith, Doc Watson, Buddy Guy, B.B. King, Gordon Lightfoot, Hal Holbrook pretend to be Mark Twain, and various and sundry comedians...... but next month?.... lets just say that the concert isn't until the 9th of March and The Missus is already straightening out her unmentionable drawer in a frantic search for a suitable pair of panties to lob lustily towards the stage.....
.... that's right, folks..... in a couple of weeks I will be sitting in an audience - mild-manneredly sipping my Scotch and water - while hordes of middle-aged women fling their knickers over my head towards one Mr. Tom Jones... oh, I cannot even begin to imagine the sheer amount of pre-menopausal booty-shaking that I am going to be forced to witness.....
.... it promises to be quite a traumatic experience..... but it should make some most excellent blogfodder... good god, see how downright selfless I am for y'all?.....
.... I mean, just check this shit out, rubberneckers.....
..... mercy...... and hey, let us not forget this one.....
...... "come back here... stand on that chair.... oh, baby, that's right.... "
..... whoaaa.......
.... I'll be sure and try to sit near the back of the theater so that if there is a stampede towards the stage, I'll be safe.....
The back of the theatre would be wise, lest you be forever known as Eric the Pantyheaded. He ain't Neil Diamond, but, trust me, he will DO.
Hell raised by Erica on February 22, 2008 02:23 PM
Meh. I guess I'm the only woman on the planet that just does not get the whole Tom experience.
I'd be more excited to see Hal do Twain again. That was awesome!
Hell raised by Sugar Britches on February 22, 2008 02:29 PM
You should have titled this post:
WARNING: EAR WORM ALERT!!!
Guess what song I now have stuck in my head! Aaaaack!!!!
Hell raised by DogsDontPurr on February 22, 2008 04:08 PM
"Eric the Pantyhead" ROFLMAO!! Holy crap, that's good stuff. And I guess funnier to me too, as when I was reading it I thought, "Eric is going to get hit in the head with panties that night..." Erica cracks me up.
Like Sugar Britches, Tom doesn't do anything for me.
And I'm patting myself on the back that I actually know who Tom Jones is. My rock is not THAT big!
Same venue, swap sexes. UT-Knoxville. '71 or '72 maybe Ike&Tina Turner. Talk about working an audience. Tina Turner could do it. Oozed sex. The testoserone level in that place went up about 500%. Men grown were standing on their seats going nuts. It was like a horde of viking berserkers in heat. Mean while wives and girl friends were sitting quietly, tapping their feet, and fuming. Lord, we paid for it later but it was worth it.
Hell raised by Tbird on February 22, 2008 05:40 PM
That first video cracks me up. I couldn't help but wonder whether it was supposed to remind me of a Weird Al vid, or not.
As for the show, I'd say I don't envy you... but on second thought, there are some benefits to subjecting yourself to such tortures.
Hell raised by That 1 Guy on February 23, 2008 10:18 AM
Yes, definitely back of the theater. Back row if you can. Else, I suggest a giant prophylactic over your head just in case any of the panties are... you know... like, used. No need to take chances. Elisson has his colander, Eric has his panties... heh...
Hell raised by Winston on February 23, 2008 11:41 AM
Haven't see so many flying undies since Beans' bachellor party back in '75.
Hell raised by Cappy on February 23, 2008 04:18 PM
The strangest part of this...
the fact I pushed play.
Beyond that I was surprised to see so many folks standing, screaming and dancing in the second clip....
Sometimes I am amazed at the sheer dorkiness of folks.
Not my cup of tea personally. I think it's just the style of his music. I can't tell you for sure though. Doesn't another band usually open for the main event? Curious who that will be.
Hell raised by upset waitress on February 24, 2008 07:51 PM
Grab yourself a good handful of panties and we'll auction 'em off chez moi!
Hell raised by Old Cloots on February 24, 2008 08:59 PM
..... a friend of mine dropped by yesterday for a civilized afternoon of hot tea & chocolate biscuits, and I ended up forgetting that I had an appointment in town..... he'd brought along a nice collection of Morgan silver dollars and they had me completely distracted..... so as I bartered, broke out my own collection from the safe, and generally tried to figure a way to separate a Man from his Silver, the telephone rang..... it was the receptionist from the business where I had failed to appear at the allotted time.... I explained that I had been minding my own business earlier in the day when I was suddenly struck by a severe bout of Walter Hustonism and had become absolutely & completely debilitated.... there was a short bout of nervous laughter from the other end of the phone, and my apology was accepted...... but personally?.... I don't really think that they got what I was talking about.......
..... but they were quite amicable about the whole situation, and I simply rescheduled my visit for this afternoon.... much like me, I guess, if the folks around here were any more laid back, they'd have to be in a coma........
.... so I am driving home from my appointment in town today and I turn right off of US Highway 411 onto the curvy county road which leads to my house...... (those of you who have visited my home during the October Blogmeets will know this road as the home of the 'Kaboom! Tree"..... named by Elisson, I believe, it is the small stretch of road which winds down through three S-curves over the course of 1/4 mile with a drop of 600 feet and then climbs immediately up the creek-valley over another 1/4 mile to a height of 800 feet..) .... actually, I posted footage once of that stretch of road..... it's buried somewhere in my youtube account, in case you are curious....
..... anyway, just as I passed the "Kaboom! Tree" and swept Sylvia down to the trough of the valley, there was a large cow laying beside the roadside fence with her back legs splayed out in a most painful-looking manner.... I slowed down and prepared to stop..... as I came closer, I realized that she wasn't as large as I had imagined...... she was probably only two years old and about 600lbs...... I rolled down the window and placed the Audi in park once I was alongside where she lay - heaving steadily......
.... her bulbous, jet-black eyes were drawn wide and were blinking wildly while her huge pink tongue lolled out from between her white, flattened teeth.... she was terrified and obviously in pain..... I checked the barbed wire fence with a quick glance to see if she was somehow tangled, but no, she was not..... I craned my neck back towards the farmhouse which sits at the top of the hill above the field - no movement there..... this was Mr. Miller's field, after all, should I go and tell him that one of his cows was down?..... and then, at that wonderful moment of complete indecision, I noticed the slimy nose, gooey mouth, and placenta-glazed eyes protruding from between her legs......
.... I watched for another minute or so, and the front hooves appeared..... and then, well, I knew it was going to be alright...... two more heaves and the shoulders would be out..... and then, hell, all she'd have to do is stand up and gravity would do the rest.....
..... it truly was a beautiful sight, in a way..... and in another way, it was absolutely disgusting..... but hey, that's life, folks...... Mother Nature is a messy, messy gal, ladies and gentlemen........ and there isn't really anything wrong with making a mess from time to time...... it's just natural...... actually, I suspect that if I had hung around for a bit longer, I would have witnessed one of the most tender moments of life - watching that new mother clean her newborn and gently nudge it to stand.....
... but, well, I didn't stay to watch...... once I knew that she was ok, I rolled up the window and headed towards home..... in reality, once I realized what was going on, I felt like a complete voyeur......
...... in the end, though, I am glad that I stopped.... and I am glad that she was ok...... and I am glad that I had a chance to witness my very first birth.... I've seen death many times.... and I have seen newborns the morning after hundreds of times..... but this was the first time that I actually saw a birth from the beginning (even though I didn't hang around the for the 'end')......
...... ahhhh.... Nature is messy, you know?..... and messy is OK... beautiful, messy, and real......
..... but hey, it did put me off my fish sandwich just a bit afterwards....... but only for just a bit.....
At least you didn't have to .....as I have many times......go up there and reach into her shoulder deep to turn a breech birth around.........then sit there in the mud, the blood and the shit.....heaving mightily to assist her efforts in delivering a calf too big for easy ejection.
You're absolutely right......beautiful.....if a bit messy.
Hell raised by Elisson on February 21, 2008 11:14 AM
Yea well think what you want. It's not beautiful. First of all it's the most painful thing a female will ever experience in her life. Blood, shit, placenta, amniotic fluids, a dangly cord that looks like a sausage, and a slimy newborn. At least us humans don't have to lick ours clean anymore. Thank gawwd. Now Eric, when you have the pleasure of experiencing 32 hrs of labor and the reward is something that split your hole in half, you will probably be thinking a tad bit different. Just a guess though.
I know, it hurts just thinking about it doesn't it? Hah!
Hell raised by upset waitress on February 21, 2008 06:01 PM
Actually, upset waitress, I have to disagree with you. I didn't find it disgusting at all. I've done it three times, one long and horrible with drugs at the very end, one short and no drugs, one with complications luckily endured with good drugs and a nurse not afraid of 'calving'.
After the first birth, I realized I didn't get to see it. I called my Dr. on the carpet for it. I'd done all the work and everyone else got to see the miracle. The next two times I insisted on a mirror, which they gladly provided. It seems to be a normal request.
I've thrown up, my eyes have glazed over with pain, I've nearly passed out in pain, I panicked and thought this was it... I was going to die, which my Dr. assured me was not going to happen. And did not, obviously.
I'd do it again in a heartbeat. All of it. And I'd hold someone's hand through it and coach if they needed. I'd watch, I'd assist, I'd do anything... and I suspect I would find it to be wonderous every time.
To be able to stumble upon something like this... cow calving... what a blessing. Truly. The whole miracle of birth thing... its wonderous.
"First of all it's the most painful thing a female will ever experience in her life.." Maybe really painful for some women, but that is because human babies are born with such large heads because the brain is so developed.
Most animals feel nowhere near the pain a human feels during a normal birth. I have seen cows, pigs, dogs, cats, mice, hamsters, snakes, and fish (the kinds of fish and snakes that have live births, some lay eggs) all give birth. None ever seemed to be in great pain (and yes I know the signs of great pain in most of these animals because I have seen them in pain too). Human birth canals never quite adapted to the size of the heads of the babies they birth.
Having said that, I would not want to be a woman, thank you!
As for you Eric, a good deed you did just in checking on that cow, and you got a decent reward for it, watching the baby as it was born.
All the best,
Glenn B
Hell raised by Glenn b on February 21, 2008 10:11 PM
I've not witnessed a "normal live birth" of a human, other than on TV. My first was emergency C'd, and the next was scheduled as if there was an appointment with a lawyer, or a dentist.
I am familiar with the basketball through a garden hose deal, and I'll tell you, I think it'd suck to be the garden hose whether your a cow, a sow, or otherwise. The stuff I've seen, frankly, looks like it hurts. If it was me, I'd take the dope and the blade.
Hell raised by RedNeck on February 21, 2008 10:38 PM
You didn't stick around to watch the cow chew up a long string of placenta like a big wad of Bazooka bubble gum?
Hell raised by Jerry on February 22, 2008 12:57 AM
Have not seen death up close an personal (near death is another story)... have seen birth 3 times. Tis a miracle indeed, and something never forgotten (in all above cases). For what it's worth 2 of the three births are out of college, the third, in the middle of high school. Damn glasses were more then a little damp after each birth as well, must have been the high humidity in the room at the time.
Hell raised by Guy S on February 28, 2008 10:44 PM
.... today provided me with a rather strange sensation - one that I had not felt since I spent two weeks deeply imbedded on the Indian subcontinent while attending a wedding ceremony about eight years ago..... and in short, it was a mixed blessing (the breakfast, not the wedding)....... but indeed, today afforded me the first opportunity to have chilies for breakfast while still safely cradled in the bland bosom of The Mighty Northern Hemisphere.......
.... yes, I know that first paragraph was weird, but hey, it is what it is......
.... anyway, one tends to imagine breakfast in The South as a festival of cholesterol..... which is good, obviously....... lip-smacking, mouth-watering, rind-chewing goodness........ for dead hog is the the chief ingredient in most morning meals...... but excruciating pain is never really considered part of the equation, right?.....
..... breakfast, after all, is the most wholesome of each of our meals (according to the FDA)...... but woe betide the adventurous man (or woman) who purchases the Southern Sonic breakfast feast...... really, in retrospect, the only things that were actually edible were the tater tots (which came as a side-order)......
..... and yet, there were Jalapenos...... great, giant, pulsing Jalapenos..... I ate it, sure, but I still don't truly get it...... the meaning, I mean.....
..... so, word up, folks..... never breakfast at Sonic..... sure, their coffee is wonderful - exotic, even..... and their commercials are gut-wrenchingly obnoxious, but their breakfast 'burrito' is absolutely toxic....... and trust me, it does not pay one (in the long run) to have so many Jalapenos mixed with anyone's breakfast......
.... but life, well, she is a cornucopia of lessons....
.... and it is absolutely amazing to me how many of these little life lessons that we forget so readily with each passing season....
..... it looks like at least SOME part of our bodies would hold some residual memory......
Hell raised by Jerry on February 20, 2008 01:55 AM
I basically don't do fast food, and especially Sonic. But it amazes and gags me that they all hype their Breakfast Burritos, or Hell Fire & Damnation Omelet on a Stick, or whatever. Is this phenomenon due to the millions of illegal alien Mexicans that have invaded us? With a working assumption that people actually purchase and consume that stuff, I can only conclude there are many sickos with cast iron assholes among us.
Hell raised by Winston on February 20, 2008 06:35 AM
I much prefer habaneros for breakfast, or better yet just plain old hot sauce all over my eggs. I don't eat eggs that way all too much, but when I do, that breakfast gives me a whole new outlook of the upcoming day.
Hell raised by Glenn b on February 20, 2008 08:22 AM
Not as young as you once were, huh? I know a couple Lance Corporals that eat Sonic almost every morning. Could you imagine standing in formation next to them after a breakfast of eggs and jalapenos?
Ew. Sorry you suffered. "Breakfast" and "burrito" -- Two words that should NEVER have been put together, in my opinion.
Hell raised by Freddie on February 20, 2008 01:01 PM
LIFE'S LESSONS THAT WE FORGET SO READILY:
Okay, we have just ONE more and then we'll go..
Hell raised by Tbird on February 20, 2008 04:15 PM
Inevitably one finds one's self on that throne on which all men are equal and as the business is in progress, in the mind's eye one visualized the launch of a Saturn V. Lifting off the launch pad being trailed by that long flaming stream. One does not hear the roar so much as one feels it.
Hell raised by Tbird on February 20, 2008 04:33 PM
Inevitably, one finds one's self on the throne on which all men are equal. As the business is in progress, the mind's eye visualizes the launch of a Saturn V rocket.
Slowly lifting off the pad trailed by that long, long flaming stream. One does not hear the roar so much as feels it.
Hell raised by Tbird on February 20, 2008 04:39 PM
Oh good grief. Well, thanks for taking one for the team, so to speak. I will remember when next we visit Sonic. The trick will be to get my Hubby to listen...
Hell raised by Richmond on February 20, 2008 04:55 PM
I don't even think we have Sonics in New York. The first time you ever wrote about one...or, rather, the first time I ever read about your writing about one...I don't think I even knew WTF you were talking about. Which is slightly odd since it came after I first met you, and lo, there is a Sonic directly across the street from the Sleep Inn. This merely means I need to open my eyes and examine my surroundings a little more closely.
PS: Mr. Munu Dooshbag Fluffy the Fartface thought he could outsmart me, but NOOOOOOOO...I saved my comment, and, as Fred Astaire once sang, "They can't take that away from me."
Hell raised by Erica on February 20, 2008 05:20 PM
I don't even think we have Sonics in New York. The first time you ever wrote about one...or, rather, the first time I ever read about your writing about one...I don't think I even knew WTF you were talking about. Which is slightly odd since it came after I first met you, and lo, there is a Sonic directly across the street from the Sleep Inn. This merely means I need to open my eyes and examine my surroundings a little more closely.
PS: Mr. Munu Dooshbag Fluffy the Fartface thought he could outsmart me, but NOOOOOOOO...I saved my comment, and, as Fred Astaire once sang, "They can't take that away from me."
Hell raised by Erica on February 20, 2008 05:20 PM
So, you are going to be sleeping alone tonight? Haha. And.....what is this Sonic you speak of? Fast food joint? or?
Hell raised by upset waitress on February 20, 2008 05:31 PM
Jalapenos. Yep, they will stay with you all day and even sometimes into the night! But I sure do like 'em.
Jalapenos AND caffeine AND cholesterol for breakfast? Lemme guess, they complete heaven and serve at least 4 kinds of pork with that?!?!? If I weren't atheist I'd think I'd died and gone to heaven!
Me = 1 cast-iron sumbitch, at least if my diet is any indication... :)
"cornucopia"...? dawg... I wouldn't know one of those if it jumped up and bit me in the ass. Shit man, what's next, Charles Barkley fame? When you gonna start droppin' "Plethoras" on us and playin' Croquet in a Bond suit tweenst the bird feeders at the tennis club?
I know you're just dyin' for that first deodorant commercial. I'd be too. If it can take the stink off of me, it's got to be good.
You have gone to the dark side Luke... Velocidark.
Hell raised by RedNeck on February 21, 2008 11:05 PM
Oh, I wholly agree! I tried that burrito...once.
Hell raised by Lolly on February 23, 2008 07:57 AM
...... you know, there are moments that we witness that just plain lift one's soul....... some see these portents in the changing of the seasons or in the inimitable way that the morning dawns..... others, of course, may focus upon political discourse or debate.... and still others are enlightened by signs from the heavens..... equinoxes, wanings, waxings, solstices, comets, etc....... but tonight?...... well, I saw this........
..... and in the course of handling the vast turmoil surrounding us all lately, it just cheered my stony heart to see such a young man diving into a ribald song with such enthusiastic passion........ hell, it gave me hope....... and that, as we all know, is in short supply these days..... behold....
.... 12 years old, ladies and gentlemen....... I - as I am sure his Father is - am quite proud of the little guy...... he's holding aloft a banner that should be waved at every single opportunity........ and that, folks, is a fact.....
.... here's the original........ .
.... amazing, no?...... lookit, folks..... in these troubled days that we live in, the fact that a little boy is practicing his guitar (and doing incredibly well) to such a tune?..... well, if you ask me, that just renews my faith in humanity...... it truly does.......
I feel the same way when I see shit like this. One thing is for sure: That young man will have noooo problem getting a date in high school.
Hard to believe some Dad somewhere would dish out the moolah to buy his 12-year-old such a beautiful Gibson, but if practicing till he was good was the incentive, then he has most certainly earned it.
Hell raised by Erica on February 19, 2008 12:09 AM
I was gonna mention the guitar as well... even the knock offs are amazing- great guitars to learn on. This is awesome, dude. Love to see such young talent. I tried to get my oldest into guitar, even gave him one of my better acoustics.. ends up he dig the violin. I'm not complaining. :)
Hell raised by tesco on February 19, 2008 05:55 AM
Little Dude can ROCK! That's AWESOME! : )
Hell raised by Richmond on February 19, 2008 04:32 PM
Well he certainly didn't get that from playing Guitar Hero like all his buddies probably are!
.... I wandered out to town yesterday and purchased a new birdfeeder.... unlike the shiny, stainless steel one at the front steps, this one is made of wicker and resembles some sort of miniature birdie tiki hut.... except with peanuts and sunflower seeds instead of hula dancers and Singapore slings......
..... while I find it slightly more pleasing to the eye than the stainless steel orb-like feeder, I don't particularly think that the birds mind one way or the other... at least they certainly haven't complained yet.... and the are currently visiting each location to the tune of 1/2 a pound of mixed seed per day......
.... so far the cats have been unlucky in making a meal out of any of them - but they do so enjoy giving it a try.....
.... yesterday evening late, just as 'The African Queen' was reaching its fever point on the television, the nuthatches made another appearance... they are my favorites for a number of reasons.... first and foremost, they only show up occasionally - which is nice..... they're not greedy & gluttonous like the titmice..... the titmice arrive en masse and flit back and forth for hours - but not the dapper nuthatch..... no, sir... they drop by in their evening-wear tuxedos, move with a stately precision, snatch a few choice seeds, and then continue on with their evening..... which probably involves an opera or a ballet.... or at the very least, an Arthur Miller play with a few martinis enjoyed afterwards.....
.... yes, nuthatches are just that cool....
.... the white-breasted nuthatches that visit around dusk remind me of The Penguin from the old Batman television show.... with their long, pointy beak and their coal-black top hat.... I half-expect to see one turn its head towards the window while I'm watching and see it sporting a monocle....
.... anyhoo, I'm off to scrounge for my own breakfast this morning... all of this bird-talk and navel gazing this morning has left me a bit peckish..... heh heh heh......
Don't go down the Zambezi.
I you can wax like this about a small bird, you will never ever ever stop talking about the Ngorogoro Crater in Tanzania once you have seen it.
Mail me and we will organise. Really.
Remember the Ngorogoro will not survive the next 15 years and is going down year by year.
In your sidebar it says that you are the best writer about nothing ever, come and I will show you something you can write about.
Hell raised by keeskennis on February 17, 2008 09:19 AM
My, we're awfully silly this morning, aren't we? Peckish. Assigning aristocratic characteristics to little birdies...what's next? A walking stick and a box of Nat Sherman's?
Hell raised by Erica on February 17, 2008 09:49 AM
Wow, you just reminded my usualy muddled middle aged memory that I have not fed the birds in months. Shame on me for not making sure that all the little wimnged visitors are well fed - especially during these winter months. Not that I don't have the seed, I have two 40 pouund bags of it somewhere, I just forgot to put it our for them. What my mice and hamsters don't eat goes to the birds, and of course to those gray cloaked graceful thieves of the backyard, the gray squirrels.
I also have about a half dozen greasy spoon delights (suet cakes) for the woodpeckers. They love these fat laden cakes most out of all the birds that fly by for a quick peck, and especially love the ones with a part peanut butter base. Yes, the bushy tails love em too, and so do the oppossums that waddle by for a quick bite eaach night. As urban as it is around me, there is no shortage of oppossums.
Mmm, the thought of all this just makes my tongue want to stick to the top of my beak. Off to the feeders for me, and later for you.
Alll the best,
Glenn B
Hell raised by Glenn B on February 17, 2008 11:35 AM
OK - that makes even ME want to get a bird feeder.....you do paint a picture Sir. Oh yes you do........
Hell raised by Tammi on February 17, 2008 12:35 PM
Nuthatches are cool and not put off. They'll even dive in among'st the squirrels. Mini-dreadnaughts. Also have watched them make their many quick trips. Further observation revealed that they would take the seed to a nearby tree and jam the seed in the fissures of the bark then return to the feeder for another. After building up a nice cache, they'd eat the seed at their leisure.
If you want more Goldfinch, try thistle seed.
They love thistle seed.
Hell raised by Tbird on February 17, 2008 04:34 PM
Did you say..peckerish?. Oh, nevermind... peckish. 'Scuse me...heh.
I don't feed the birds anymore. Bird seed ruined my yard. Now it's all weeds. Plus they chirped too loud in the mornings. They chirped even louder on my days off.
Hell raised by upset waitress on February 18, 2008 06:43 PM
I understand, Eric. Us mountain folk like our birdies. I'm filling my feeders every day, too. Hungry little suckers, huh? What I love is to see squirrels hanging off the feeders--I yell "SQUIRREL," sit back, and watch four dogs go after those little thieves.
Hell raised by vicki on February 18, 2008 08:21 PM
I tried to leave a brilliant quote here the other day and our damned dog Fluffy ate it, and now I can't remember what it was.
Hell raised by Old Cloots on February 18, 2008 09:33 PM
..... I don't really know what to say about this, but I do agree with it........ it reminds me so much of blogging...... and hey, you just gotta love Tom Waits.....
..... I think I should probably write him another song...... something gritty....... I suspect he's getting soft lately and probably needs a change of focus....
.... whoa.... nevermind...... he's still preeeeeety far out there....
... weird, sure... but his lyrics are actually pretty amazing........ if you can get past the high heels........ here, feel free to sing along...
Well, when I'm lyin' in my bed at night, I don't wanna grow up
Nothin' ever seems to turn out right, I don't wanna grow up
How do you move in a world of fog, that's always changing things
Makes me wish that I could be a dog
Well, when I see the price that you pay, I don't wanna grow up
I don't ever wanna be that way, I don't wanna grow up
Seems like folks turn into things that they'd never want
The only thing to live for is today
I'm gonna put a hole in my TV set, I don't wanna grow up
Open up the medicine chest, and I don't wanna grow up
I don't wanna have to shout it out
I don't want my hair to fall out
I don't wanna be filled with doubt
I don't wanna be a good boy scout
I don't wanna have to learn to count
I don't wanna have the biggest amount
And I don't wanna grow up
Well, when I see my parents fight, I don't wanna grow up
They all go out and drinking all night, and I don't wanna grow up
I'd rather stay here in my room, nothin' out there but sad and gloom
I don't wanna live in a big old tomb on Grand Street, ooh!
When I see the 5 o'clock news, I don't wanna grow up
Comb their hair and shine their shoes, I don't wanna grow up
Stay around in my old hometown
I don't wanna put no money down
I don't wanna get me a big old loan
Work them fingers to the bone
I don't wanna float a broom
Fall in love and get married, then boom
How the hell did we get here so soon
Well, I don't wanna grow up
..... perhaps I'll not try to write another song for him after all....... it isn't necessary.....
Scarlett Johanson is releasing a cd of TW covers. Apparently with his blessing.
Hell raised by K-Nine on February 16, 2008 07:34 PM
Tom W rules! And how 'bout that Letterman? He doesn't miss a thing, do he?
Refuse to grow up. It's worked for me for years.
Also, did you know that Clarabell the Clown was played by Captain Kangaroo. Valuable history crap for all that don't know.
Hell raised by Cappy on February 16, 2008 08:29 PM
Have an idea...why not request your readers click on your site on a specific day and be ready to sing at a given time. ie 8:00 EST 9:00 Central etc. Crank up the volume and sing Tom Waits "I don't Wanna Grow Up" Ok, might be a little crazy but it sure feels good to sing along :-)
The Ramones did a great version of this song. But I love both...something about Waits' raspy bourbon voice just gets me every time. I think I have nearly every album he's put out...him and Guy Clark.
..... you know, in great and giant scheme of things, there are only certain things which actually matter.... which things those things are, of course, is a matter for great and eternal debate......
.... but in that vein, I take as a 'for instance' a conversation that I had the other day with my Missus while she was contemplating venturing outside to stroke her favorite cat - Fred.....
.... to the best of my knowledge & remembrance, the conversation flowed very much like this......
"awwwww.... I need to go and pat Fred!"
..... "no, actually, I fed him a can of tuna on the back porch this morning.... he is just fine, I assure you.... finish your broccoli..."
"nooooooooo, he needs me.... just look at how he sits and stares in that window on the kitchen door!..... he wants his mommy!"
....... "no.... he is sitting there because I just cooked a bunch of ham for you and he can smell it....... that is all..." ....
"nooooooo, little Fred loves me!...... he wants more of this morning's leftover bacon, I bet!! .... or maybe some of my ham!!"
..... ".... didn't I just say that?..... he doesn't want YOU.... he wants BACON.... he can SMELL it.... he is an ANIMAL..."
"awwww, he is so CUTE!..... yes, (pecking on the glass) yes, you ARE!...... you want some BACON, Fred?.... you want some HAM!?"
..... "you know, this is quite tedious, but I just have to say it...."
"what?"
..... "cats are the most mercenary of the pet species..... I mean, of the 'normal' pet species....... ".....
"what do you mean?"
..... "you see that animal out there?...... you feed him, pet him, empty his damnable litter box, and do you truly know why he loves you?"......
"he loves me because I love HIM."
...... "no, he does NOT...... he only loves you because YOU are made out of MEAT...... and in the end, his orgasmic pipedream is that you die in a heap one frosty morning while feeding him leftover bacon so that he can slowly and steadily gnaw on your carcass for days and days and days........your cat only loves you because you are made of MEAT.... and cats want meat MUCH more than they want a clean litter box or someone to occasionally stroke their necks....."
"You are so mean."
..... "no, not really..... hey, happy Valentine's Day..... did you like your card?"...
..... is it a good thing to burst someone's bubble like that?....... to focus them on the realities of life?...... that whole life, death, (lunch), and The Grave kinda thing?......
.... or is it more important to recline back and let your ears feast upon the sumptuous, liquefied, golden purring that comes from some domesticated beast absolutely and completely immersing itself in expressing pleasure?.......
..... the jury is still out here, obviously, but I am certainly leaning towards the side of the beast..... hell, I'd hate to imagine waking up to finding The Missus as a night-torn carcass that the lionesses had just finished with...... all in the name of "give Fred another kitty treat, I think he deserves it!"......
Hell raised by K-Nine on February 16, 2008 12:52 PM
So, did you end up sleeping outside with the cat? *grin*
Hell raised by Teresa on February 16, 2008 04:05 PM
I'll be honest. I can't, in all honesty, comfortably say what came to my mind upon reading that post. Therefore, let the record show, I hate the damned cat that my boy drug home, six fingered fucker(the cat). He slices, he dices, he likes him some ham, bacon, beef, finicky my ass, he'd eat me if I didn't wake up for a day. He's a bastid. Son, you might as well get used to pettin' kittie's 'cause that probably the only pussy you're gonna have for a while.(Sorry... that slipped out)... my bad.
Hell raised by RedNeck on February 16, 2008 05:49 PM
Then again... maybe she just don't like broccoli and didn't want to hurt your feelin's...
Hell raised by RedNeck on February 16, 2008 06:02 PM
Heh... I pictured Jack Nicholson and his "You can't handle the truth" speech.
Someone needs to stand watch over that door. You, my friend, have that thankless job.
Hell raised by That 1 Guy on February 16, 2008 08:49 PM
"Soylent Friskies"
hehehehee!
:o)
Hell raised by Joan of Argghh! on February 17, 2008 02:00 PM
I ran into this amazing bit of folklore the other day about this that I'm working into a short story right now. You know the whole thing about babies and cats stealing their breath. Anyway, I'm chatting with this old girl and she tells me they keep the cats away from the dead. Stand over the corpse when its laid out making sure the cats don't get to it. And--this one time the cats did get to the corpse and they had to have a closed casket funeral. The cats ate the face off the deceased. They eat the ears first.
Cats are gamblers. They are betting you die before they do so they can have your ears.
Hell raised by Rosie on February 20, 2008 03:20 AM
..... I dreamt violent dreams last night and again early this morning, and I cannot understand why......
..... there are themes that run through them all that seem to tie them bindingly together.... but remembering back upon them during the early morning doesn't seem to pan them fully-out as the crisp light of day dawns.... but yet, they were.... and they are.....
.... I dreamed of the racked billiards balls being broken by a powerful breaker...... that 'crack' that you hear when everything explodes around you and chaos ensues......violence, pandemonium, misdirection, terror, anger, lustful action & reaction....... but even then, there was a certain calm that I felt when I sat upright in bed - sweating......
...... I've had that dream a hundred times before......
..... I got up and found myself a glass of water, checked the clock, and burrowed back under the covers...... and was asleep in five minutes.....
... the next two hours were filled with the strange, half-asleep dreams that woke me every ten to twenty minutes...... and at 7:15, I finally abandoned any thoughts of sleep and rose to greet the day....... cold, dreach, and misty..
...... but I awoke tired, angry, sad, and confused..... how is one supposed to function after a night spent dreaming like that?...... and why does a mind work in such ways in the quiet, pre-dawn hours?....... sure, I have been to scary places, but how do you reconcile that with what you wake up to?..... calm quiet, peaceful?....... but hey, check this out.......
..... if you sit on your floor with your legs out in front of you and raise your knees up so that they are nearly level with your pectoral muscles, lay your right arm forward across your knee...... so that the upturned elbow joint creates a fulcrum against your bent leg (at the knee)...... then reach out and press your wrist downwards with your other hand....... feel the pressure?...... feel the tightness of a bend that was never meant to bend?....... that is what I dreamed of this morning..... and it scares me every time that I think about it...... and I have no idea why that dream scares me so much.......
I kind of understand that feeling…I broke somebody’s finger once, because I applied pressure to it and bent it in a way that fingers are not supposed to bend, and I felt thoroughly skeeved by it, knowing full well what a human being’s limitations are, and then crossing it.
Nightmares: I have them every now and then. The last one was a little less than a week ago, about these horrible thousand-plus year-old immortal half-human / half-werewolves. But I think I’d rather have dreams — good, bad, or WTF — than not have them at all. They fascinate me.
I hope you had some restful shluffy last night.
(For what it’s worth, not that this would give you any consolation, whatsoever, but I just woke up from a nightmare that was about the worst I’d ever had…ugh.)
Hell raised by Erica on February 15, 2008 07:55 AM
When I was a kid I dreamed of tornados. Don't know why. My mother was terrified of storms. Maybe I got it from her. I'd see them coming toward me and I'd try to run away but regardless of where I'd run they'd follow me. The faster I tried to run it seemed the slower I moved as that huge black swirling maelstrom bore down on me...then I'd wake up. I had those dreams for years. As an adult, I've been through two tornados and dodged three more and I don't have those dreams anymore. Maybe they went away because the subconscious fear was replaced by reality. I don't know. Funny how the mind works.
Hell raised by Tbird on February 15, 2008 02:36 PM
Come to think of it...i had a freaky flood dream last night. It would probably help if we didn't read about sociopathic smokers.
When I have nightmares, or sometimes even just unsettling dreams, I try to realize that I am dreaming, and then conciously either wake up, or change my dream. Yes you can do that while dreaming, it usually takes some practice. Reminding yourself, each night as you lay in your bed before sleep, that this is what you will do in the event of a bad dream, usually works within a week or two, and continuing to practice it keeps it working when you need it. Once you start to get the knack of it you can actually chnage any dream you have both good or bad, so you can opractice on good dreams. It does not always work, but it is a big help.
As for most dreams, all I can say about them is that they are mind farts. Someone quasi famous once described them that way, and I agree for the msot part.
Sleep ever so tight, without a nary fright, all through the long night, until on the morn from dreams you alight.
All the best,
Glenn B
Hell raised by Glenn B on February 15, 2008 04:44 PM
look heah, that monster break ain't nothin' to worry about but if the sumbitch is sinking both the nine and the five on that break and you are playin' some five and ten you had better either wake up or go see a shrink!
Been dreaming more lately, after 4:00 AM and remember most of them. They're not bad. One recurring one I've had for years is that I'm about to graduate from college and suddenly remember a class I never attended. I hear that's pretty common.
Hell raised by Cappy on February 15, 2008 07:33 PM
I haven't remembered a dream in a long time... years, actually. I miss them.
..... everyone's favorite Rube certainly has it goin' on..... and it is a gem to behold..... the only thing is, it actually makes me want to light one up.....
.... the concert went off without too much of a hitch..... and it was very uplifting to see Mr. Lightfoot still filling theatres and coaxing applause out of audiences at the tender age of 69 years.... his sets were simple, his voice was unique, and he arranged his 'hit songs' perfectly between new releases and unknown 'oldies'......
... having said all that, however, the night was a bit tainted for my family and I..... not by the music, of course, but by four upper-class, middle-aged, & slightly drunken rude couples who happened to be sitting in the row directly behind us.....they arrived just before the curtain went up... and two of the wives talked incessantly during both the introduction and the first two songs using their 'outside' voices.... their conversation was quite varied.... covering everything from how much they had enjoyed their pre-concert meal, how much they 'simply adored' the service at The Regas, and how disappointed they were that Mr. Lightfoot didn't start off his first set with the songs that they had wanted to hear....
.... herein lies the difference between my little brother and myself...
.... neither of us are very mean people.... and we're both quite respectful, really..... however, I learned last night that his fuse is quite a bit shorter than mine.... and he, like myself, will not abide rude behavior..... we will address such behavior in an adult manner - face to face.... being both respectful and to the point.... and should you somehow take offense at being asked to "please be quiet, I can't hear what he's singing." and proceed to act like a posturing, pimply sixteen-year old out on his first date who is trying to impress his girlfriend by flexing his testosterone, then you are in for a very, very rude awakening.......
.... like I said, I am not a mean guy.... hell, I'm not even really that aggressive.... but if I'm quietly watching a mild-mannered Canadian - totally & beautifully enraptured while singing "If You Could Read My Mind" - and I hear you slosh your drink and mouth to your date "who the hell does he think he is? I ought to ask him to step outside.." .... don't be the least bit surprised if either myself or my little brother turn around, rise, look you in the eye, and call you on your words right then and there for being such a pompous ass..... and then ask you to make sure that you bring your wife along so that she can watch you get your ass beat as we want her to be sure that she doesn't miss out on your total humiliation......
.... you know, you'd honestly think that in these civilized times that we live in, shit like this would never, EVER be necessary.........
..... on one level, it absolutely breaks my heart to know that grown-up human beings would buy tickets to see an incredible musician perform in a breathtaking venue and then act like drunken teenagers in suits with dates sporting too much mascara..... equally childish, disrespectful, arrogant, and boorish..... and just mouthy-drunk enough that they'd like to try to pick a fight at a cultured event just so their shitfaced girlfriends/wives would want to hump them later for their Pure, Alpha-Manliness.....
.... I tell you, it is almost enough to make one stay home and watch television rather than venture out into the seething mass of humanity.....
... luckily, I suppose, I was able to be the voice of reason and harmony..... bringing an almost supernatural calm to the Waters of Life that crashed and splashed around our huddled group of concert-goers........ and after my brother was re-seated (and I had said "leave.... leave now.... before you get hurt.. go back to your bar, we're here to listen to music..), the evening was enjoyed by all.....
..... but still, I am continually amazed & absolutely disheartened by the number of complete assholes there are in this tiny little world of ours..... why can't we all just get along??...... heh.... because there are givers and takers..... and never the twain shall meet.......
.... in the end, some people just need to be beaten.... beaten severely...... and for lots and lots of reasons, really..... but mainly, simply because they have never been beaten once in their entire lives like they truly should have been...... and that gross oversight has left them hovering and poised above The Great Bowl of Humanity as assholes who assume that they can get away with anything simply because of who they are, who they know, how much cash they have in their sheep-skin wallets, where they work, where they went to school, who they might be fucking, or where they go to church hung-over on Sunday morning......
.... in short, they have never learned to respect their fellow human beings...... and for a select few, that lesson can't be taught with books, speeches, religious orchestrations, or television programs..... or even sober logic....
..... and while it makes me sad to say it, it is an absolute fact...... there are those out there walking this world who just need a good punch in the noggin and a kick in the ribs.......... it'd make them a much better person in the long run.......
.... God knows that I've had my share in the course of 35 years...... and there has been a life-lesson attached to each and every one.......
Hell raised by Cappy on February 12, 2008 08:57 PM
Disgusting behavior. This reminds me, if I may share, of a bit of an ironic story.
I can't recall the year off the top of my head, but the Mets were playing the Braves, and were about to kick theirs and John Rocker's asses from Shea to Oblivion. We had a huge lead going into the ninth inning, and were about to clinch the NL East division title, ensuring us a spot in the post season.
Well, the entire stadium is on its feet...it was shaking so much, it was the closest I'd ever felt to an earthquake in my life, and then Bobby Valentine had to go ahead and bring Benitez in. Two outs in the ninth, and the guy gives up 8-9 runs...essentially blowing our lead, and Valentine LEAVES him in the game.
My friend Jay and I are bouncing up and down in the upper deck, screaming like mad banshees, being your typical New York sports fans from Brooklyn, and basically just blending in with the rest of the 56,000 other Mets fans...until this morose couple behind us calls security to have us sit down because they can't see the field.
WTF??
I was so pissed, and told them, they must have taken a wrong turn at 42nd Street if they wanted to see the gott-damned opera instead of a ballgame.
I know I could be a tad brash, but I sure as f**k know the difference between how to behave at an intimate Gordon Lightfoot concert (I have two of his CDs, and love the Canadian Railroad Trilogy song), versus how to behave when the Mets are about to make the playoffs (they did not, since choking seems to be their thing).
Glad you and the little brother put those douchebags in their respective places.
Hell raised by Erica on February 12, 2008 09:09 PM
Well my daughter just found out that as much as you need to fight and kick the person that wronged you, you can not do this while in high school: she just got expelled. Too bad your concert experience was tained by those idiots.
Hell raised by LeeAnn on February 12, 2008 09:55 PM
The Missus and I recall a similar experience in Houston at an Elton John/James Taylor concert.
You are correct: some people need a thrashing, just to remind them that not everyone will put up with their lack of consideration and all-around misbehavior. Best they get it as children; as adults, it can come as a nasty, damaging shock to both body and ego.
Hope you enjoyed the show despite the distraction.
Hell raised by Elisson on February 12, 2008 10:47 PM
I get so goddamned pissed off almost every time I attend a show these days by the behavior of people like the ones you describe. It boggles the mind to think they have so little respect not just for the performer, but for those around them.
I am not above telling it like it is anymore. Life is too short, the tickets are too expensive and it always crosses my mind that that could be the last time ANYONE ever gets to see that performer again. As happened when we went to see John Lee Hooker at what turned out to be his final performance. Fortunately THAT one wasn't tainted by morons.
Hell raised by Old Cloots on February 12, 2008 11:20 PM
I know what you mean. I attended the Simon and Garfunkle conert in Central Park and the group sitting next to us were drinking wine and playing a game of charades at the top of their lungs during the concert. The group on their other side soon made it plain what the consequences of their continuing this would be and they quieted down but I sincerely wonder why people go to these concerts and behave this way. Must be nice to be so entitled as to disregard everyone else around you.
Yep. There always have been more horse's asses than horses on this earth but I think the ratio has increased during the past thirty years..especially in the good old USA. Used to be when one stomped hell out of a horse's ass one got applause..now one gets jail and charged with assault and battery.
I get the same thing almost every time I go to the cinema nowadays. Just last night, two assholes sat and whispered to each other throughout the entirety of No Country For Old Men. Why bother going at all?!
"Being nice" is the enemy of the civilizing influence of a good thrashing.
And "Civilization" is a fancy word for boundaries. When they are crossed, they should be righteously and calmly defended. It they are physically crossed they must be defended with extremely physical prejudice. Then everyone can go back to playing nice.
Hell raised by Joan of Argghh! on February 13, 2008 09:58 AM
Same kind of thing happened right in front of me the last couple of games at Neyland Stadium. Fortunately, the security guys there take their jobs seriously and hauled the drunks out of the place so the rest of us could enjoy the game.
So many assholes in our society now that have zero respect for anyone, makes me sick. I'm sure you and your little bro can handle yourselves without help, but a call to me on my cell will bring me over to back you up, baseball bat in hand. Yeah, I know, big talk... but that's how I feel about it...
Do I take it that your supernatural intervention actually did either run them off or get them to quieten down? Amazing!
Hell raised by Winston on February 13, 2008 12:16 PM
The wife just leaves me at home, and it's probably a good thing. I have ZERO patience for such bullshit. The cops and I had a serious discussion at a movie theater one night on whether I should go to jail for assault on a bunch of lame ass twenty somethings one night. Yer always gonna find someone who needs an ass beating at any public event, and that's why I pretty much stay to myself. I'll either end up in the can or the hospital when I finally bite off more than I can chew. You can't change the world, and people continue to get more stupid every morning.
Hell raised by bitterman on February 13, 2008 12:43 PM
Three cheers for you and your little brother!
The behavior of the audience is one reason I won't plop down any serious dough to attned a concert. Hell, I've had enough trouble with folks in the high school auditorium to listen to the band and or chorus concerts. (Like you I've tried to holt back, but eventually I consider it a teachable moment and just have to speak up about rude and boorish beahvior and it's lack of an appopriate venue.)
Hell raised by joated on February 13, 2008 01:13 PM
Lightfoot, eh? I actually had a dream about you last night; but you (and me, funny how that works) were at a James Taylor concert.
What a coincidence.
Hell raised by Lolly on February 13, 2008 03:47 PM
whilst at a football game with our school's biggest rival, 50 yard line, 1st row no less!, a woman got mad at Pete because she kept standing up and cheering. Sheesh. "You're bumping into meeeee", she'd whine.
Hell raised by holder on February 13, 2008 05:23 PM
This has to be the most eloquent rant ever written.
And for the rest of the show I bet you kept turning around and asking them "Wanna wrassle?"
Hell raised by zonker on February 14, 2008 03:03 PM
Eric, my philosophy prof did a whole lecture before we really got into anything from the text book this term about how it is our task as humans, from the time we are born until we die, to become "human beings." He said we are all "humans" in the DNA sense but that we aren't human beings. My favourite line so far from him on this topic: "you know what I mean about human beings, you know, it's hard to throw a rock sometimes and not hit an asshole?" - this is my favourite course, sadly, in my fifth year. Had I taken a Philosophy course with this guy in first year, methinks I may have had a different major. Ah well...
Sorry your Lightfoot experience was marred by Neanderthals...but I'm still happy you got to see him.
Hell raised by Lisa W. on February 22, 2008 08:24 PM
.... we're off shortly to catch Gordon Lightfoot on stage at the Tennessee Theatre..... and along with The Missus, I am also dragging along my little Brother & my Ma... it should be a nice night out full of food and good music... I love folk music... and hey, if he is just half as entertaining as James Taylor was when I saw him in Edinburgh, I will be greatly pleased.....
... the only downer is that it's just plain cold outside..... clear sky - baby blue - but still cold and breezy.....
.... I read somewhere that Mr. Lightfoot has a clause hidden away deep, deep down in his entertainment contract that requires venues to provide temperatures 'not to exceed' 32 degrees Fahrenheit.... this, of course, was verified by events at daybreak..... indeed, just as he jetted into Knoxville this morning, the Great State of Tennessee whimpered and knelt to his vile Canadian demands, folks...... hell, it was downright frigid this morning..... (well, comparatively speaking, that is...... I know that a lot of you Yankees have been frozen fairly solid this February, but for down here?.... below freezing is COLD).....
.... anyway, there you have it..... it is cold.... and I am off to enjoy dinner & a show in Knoxville..... y'all have a nice evening...
..... you know, when seeking Truth, it is always best to first consult the Internet.... especially blogs..... even after more than four years of propping this beast of a website up every single day, I am still continually amazed by the wonders that I discover....
.... good god, ladies and gentlemen, I do so love the Internet...... and hey, I look pretty good in a kilt!....
.... (but for the record, I have really only worn a kilt once..... and was banned early the next morning from every wearing one again due to behavioral problems the night before....) .....
.... another day and another new species..... I'm definitely no Stanley Livingstone, but I do the best that I can....... and today - in between losing games of Scrabble miserably to The Missus - my lowly birdfeeder was visited by an American Goldfinch..... he wasn't gold, of course....... hey, it is Wintertime.... and evidently the goldfinch is only actually gold during the Summertime...... still, though, beautiful plumage!....
... thus far, he was only the second of the finch family to have visited..... and I must say that the finches are quite bold and fearless...... once they land on the feeder, they tend to stay until they have eaten their fill and then depart...... the arrival of other birds does not harry them in the least..... they simply stand, eat, and watch the other visitors with complete and utter disdain......they are not rushed, they are not spooked, and they are not to be trifled with...... it is the same with the House Finches.... when they arrive to feed, they are undisturbed throughout......
.... this is not the case with their wren-family neighbors...... their skittishness stares in breathtaking contrast to the fearlessness of their finch brethren....... I tell you, it is amazing what a 15 dollar birdfeeder can teach you, folks........
... anyway, I am rambling..... but speaking of 'species', I found an interesting article recently in the May issue of Smithsonian that I feel obliged to share.... it is in regards to Carl Linnaeus.... and for those of you who do not know, he is the guy who is currently regarded as the "Father of Taxonomy"..... that is, frankly, the classification of species....... ole Carl did it better than anyone........ and much, much more simply...... so simple, in fact, that we still use his order of classification now - even hundreds of years later.......
..... but regardless, here is the excerpt from the magazine's article.......
Linnaeus struggled to find universally acceptable characters by which to categorize the myriad manifestations of life. In classifying plants, Linnaeus chose to focus on sexual characteristics. He placed plants into classes according to the number, length and distinctive features of their pollen-bearing stamens, and into orders according to their pistils.
The approach earned Linnaeus the ire of his more prudish colleagues. They objected to his lyrical description of the love life of plants. Bad enough that a flower's petals should be compared to the "bridal bed... perfumed with so many sweet scents in order that the bridegroom and bride may therein celebrate their nuptials with the greater solemnity." But when Linnaeus defined polyandrous flowers as having "twenty males or more in the same bed as the female" this was too much. "Who would have thought that bluebells and lilies and onions could be up to such immorality?" jibed one critic, who dismissed the entire system as "loathsome harlotry" unworthy of the creator.
For animals, Linnaeus' criteria were less provocative. He grouped mammals according to teeth, toes, and teats; fish by fin bones; insects by wings; and birds by feet and beak. He recognized that his category for plants and animals were arbitrary and his classification no more than a crude stab at divining nature's patterns, but they would have to do. Despite their shortcomings, Linnaeus' names for the roughly 12,000 organisms he examined over the course of his life became the starting point for biological classification.
.... it isn't often that I laugh out loud when reading Smithsonian, but I certainly did when I read that......
... no 'system' is perfect, I suppose.... but I guess I just find the fact that scientists 200+ years ago were sneering down their noses at the 'loathsome harlotry' of the poor little onion....
...but one thing is for sure...... I'll never look at a lily quite the same way again.....
After reading this post, chock full of fifty-cent words, I figure you ought to be an ass-kicking Scrabble player.
h-a-r-l-o-t-r-y Double word score!
t-a-x-o-n-o-m-y Triple word score!
Hell raised by Jim - PRS on February 9, 2008 04:18 AM
Apart from the man's genius and creativity, I was always amazed at the number of species with that simple little "L." appended to their Latin name. Prolific AND sexual? The slut...
once they land on the feeder, they tend to stay until they have eaten their fill and then depart
In relation to the goldfinch. this behavior goes a long way in explaining why they are the New Jersey state bird. They behave just like the state legislators, senators and governor.
Hell raised by joated on February 9, 2008 06:48 PM
I think that's the first time the Smithsonian made me laugh as well. I might mention that I'm an amateur taxonomist myself and am famous in certain circles for renaming cultivars. My most successful attempt was in reclassifying bluets. I do believe star grass is much more appropriate. No idea on their sexual proclivities though. I suppose I should investigate that...
Hell raised by Libby on February 10, 2008 09:17 AM
"the 'loathsome harlotry' of the poor little onion..."
Eli is right on that, the phrase is insighteful, deceitful and delightful at the same time.
I have Itentified a "Straight Tartan Sloth", or as Erica have said in my comments, a "wonderful muse of sorts"
Hell raised by keeskennis on February 10, 2008 10:07 AM
.... the storms that ravaged western Tennessee on Tuesday night had slacked slightly by the time they found their way here to the East..... so, for those of you who were concerned - I thank you..... and apart from lots of downed limbs and one tree that fell, my little corner of the planet survived fairly well.... we were hit with a huge lightning and wind storm at daybreak on Wednesday, but it did little damage.....
..... today, however, has been a beautiful day...... clear blue skies and a steady breeze..... and of course, the news of this...
.... as for me, I have not one single creative bone left in my body this evening..... I've been sapped, zapped, and tapped of all available resources........ and the tawny, freckled husk that is My Being is off to situate itself comfortably on the nearest padded horizontal surface and watch a television program or two......
... enjoy your evening, rubberneckers....... I'm off to attempt to do the same....
thank goodness. I was fielding comments of concern at this very moment and beginning to wonder.....
Hell raised by bitterman on February 7, 2008 08:45 PM
Amazing that sweet little petchotchelah survived.
The news has been positively grim, but I did rush to a map to see where Memphis was in relation to you and I figured you probably got some manic weather, but the tornadoes themselves pretty much kept west of you.
We had one of those twisty bastidges last year in Brooklyn and it was the damndest storm I'd ever been privy to. It ripped roofs off of houses in Bay Ridge/Sunset Park.
I was nervous for you too. Glad you weathered the storm. My thoughts go out to all you people in tornado land. A few days ago, we had a tornado touch down just up the coast from us. Freaky, since we never get that kind of weather out here. I can't imagine what it's like to live where they are a regular occurrence.
Hell raised by DogsDontPurr on February 7, 2008 10:18 PM
I hate sendin' that crap y'alls way. Living 90% of my life here in the epicenter of Tornado Alley (Oklahoma), i'd not wish those bitches on anyone, well except a few ragheads in a couple countries away east of here. Good to hear you and The Missus are still keepin' each other warm. Good to hear about that baby child too...i've known the other side of that story and its good to hear that for a change. Rest easy...
Over here in the mid-state the rotations danced all around us, but in the end, left us intact. Lots of damage north of Nashville. You know, the usual: 400 year old oak tree 23 ft. in diameter pulled out of the ground and laid gently on top a VW convertible, soda straw driven through a 4 x 4 post, million dollar home removed from foundation and reassembled 14 miles away in a likeness of Ronald McDonald... etc...
Hell raised by Winston on February 8, 2008 06:53 AM
A miracle indeed that he survived. I wonder how much (and I hope none, ever) that he remembers of what happened to him?
glad you are well. was worried about you, friend. be good, and enjoy the peace.
Hell raised by supergurl on February 8, 2008 09:32 AM
Having grown up in the midwest amidst the various storms and their wrath. I'm glad they gave you a miss. For some reason, through whatever I was reading, I thought it was pretty far west of you which is an excellent thing. Didn't want the House of Eric to be under weather attack.
Hell raised by Teresa on February 8, 2008 12:07 PM
My sister sent me a frantic email during all of that. It was really strange--it remained 68 degrees and the sun kept shining between the angry clouds that morning. I almost got a great rainbow piccie--unheard of in February.
It's my fault bitterman... he just picked the wrong day to take a day off, but I'm glad the both of you, your family and friends are still vertical and suckin' wind. Breathe on...
Hell raised by RedNeck on February 8, 2008 03:44 PM
Hammered the hell outta Union University in Jackson TN. A small thought notable Baptist affiliated University. Miracle no one was killed. Funny thing. In my youth Union was located in east Jackson close to downtown. With no room for expansion they moved the University lock, stock, and barrel a couple miles north of I-40 off 45 byp. It's been hit by tornados three times since they moved out there. Maybe the Lord's trying to tell them something.
Course these tornados are raisin' so much havoc because there's more to raise havoc on.
If that storm had gone through the same area 30-40 years ago all it would have done is flip a few cows and tear up a barn or two. All that area was farm land then.
.....have you ever had one of those days where you just wished that you were Dean Martin's xylophone player back in the early 1960s?... well, check this out......
..... I bet that guy bagged ALL of the chicks...... I mean, just look at his wrist discipline!.....
I always thought that wrist discipline was most necessary for...uh...solo activities. Hmmm...
Besides, I always went for the keyboardist. ;)
Hell raised by Richmond on February 6, 2008 01:21 PM
hey pallie, dude like great Dinopost....now I woulda do anythin' for the King of Cool that he asked me to...never was, never will be anyone as cool as the King of Cool....oh, to return to the days when Dino walked the earth!
yea. I was trying to get outta Memphis about 3 hours ahead of that shit. Liked to have never got to Dallas. What was normally a 45 minute hop turned into a 2.5 hour ordeal. Fucked up connections and everything else.
Hope you all are in one piece. My homefolks in Jackson and Union Center/Alcorn County did not fair well at all......
Stunned the hell outta me when I read the news this morning.
Hell raised by bitterman on February 6, 2008 11:37 PM
Just checking in to make sure you are okay down there!
Hell raised by Sharon on February 7, 2008 07:27 AM
Been watching some Oceans 11 have you? That is Red Norvo. He played often with the Rat Pack boys. There is a great live album of Sinatra singing with the Red Norvo Quintet. It is called, of all things, Frank Sinatra with the Red Norvo Quintet Live in Australia, 1959. Red has a couple of instramentals on the CD version I own. The Dude is magnificent.
Hell raised by hoosierboy on February 7, 2008 08:50 AM
Yep...chicks really dig that Wrist Discipline, yes indeedy.
At least, the ones that are into Discipline.
Hell raised by Elisson on February 7, 2008 05:13 PM
All hail Dino, the toast of Steubenville! We salute him with martinis, until there's two of everything!
I don't know about gettin' all the chicks. Never really have. Never considered that it might be a result of my wrist discipline though. I'm with Richmond on this one, if he wasn't getting any "chicks"... I suppose all that time and effort put into wrist discipline practice was only self serving.
What about bongo players?
Hell raised by RedNeck on February 7, 2008 08:25 PM
.... it rained off and on during the night and the morning dawned dreary and damp..... fog and rain are present now with the occasional peal of thunder off in the distance.... even the lichen on the tree's trunks is soaked - causing it to change from a greenish-gray to a darker olive drab.....
.... I wonder if the trees are able to make use of the cold moisture that streaks across their bark..... can they absorb any of it?... or do they solely depend on whatever water their roots can find?.... and is the wind-tossed rain simply useless to the bleached, dormant stalks?... wasted until it seeps through the muddy earth?....
.... I like to imagine that they could.... that they not only enjoy standing still and naked - rigid against the icy shower - but that the water also gives them a tangible & immediate bit of sustenance..... and that they can drink it in as it gently trickles down them....
.... strange thoughts on a formless winter day, I know, but it does help make the rain look a bit brighter.....
Rain in Tennessee is much more sensual than rain here. Just sayin'... ; )
Hell raised by Richmond on February 4, 2008 02:51 PM
plants, at least deciduous ones, have tiny openings in their leaves called stomata that lets water out during transpiration. The "Smoky Mountains" get their name because there were so many trees transpiring at once it created a fog or "smoke", but I'm pretty sure it's just one way- they can't drink in.
Hell raised by holder on February 4, 2008 05:26 PM
Did you know that when a tree is cut with an axe or saw, it emits an ultra-high pitch noise to act as a warning to other trees? I'm not exactly sure what this warning is ("Run for it"? "Take Cover"?) but they do it nonetheless.
..... on top of yesterday's feast of quiche, Turner Classic Movie channel (TCM, for the uninitiated) has chosen today as the day to showcase old musicals that have either won or been nominated for Academy Awards..... which, of course, means that The Missus has been glued to the television all day long....
..... it all began around 10:45am this morning when she realized that "The Harvey Girls" was playing.... hey, she's a sucker for Judy Garland.... and I have to admit that seeing Angela Lansbury dolled up as a Lady of The Afternoon was quite surreal to behold.... but since then, I've suffered through "The Band Wagon", "Seven Brides For Seven Brothers", "Gigi", and now - "An American in Paris"..... yes, it is 7:30pm as I write this.... and I've borne witness to enough show tunes in the past eight hours to drive most mortal men to mayhem..... I think I need to go and fieldstrip my AR-15 and chew some tobacco or something......
..... I did put my foot down though when she absentmindedly channel-surfed during a commercial over to ESPN's coverage of men's figure skating....
.... in regards to "Gigi", I have to admit that I actually attempted to watch it.... it's has always been one of those movies of which one has heard of, and yet not yet seen.....
... after a half-hour of so, I broke ranks and went to the garage to grill the lamb chops.... once they were done, I sat down in front of the tube again and tried to catch up.... eventually turning to The Missus and saying... "so, what exactly is the point of this stupid-assed movie?"..... one or two clicks from the remote control later, and this is what popped up on the television screen courtesy of the DirecTV satellites....
Gigi
4:00-6:00pm Movie:Musical
Musical, Leslie Caron, Maurice Chevalier, Louis Jourdan (1958) An heir wants to marry a waif groomed to be his mistress in Gay '90's Paris (CC)
... a "waif groomed to be his mistress"???.....
..... weird, yes...... and no, I just don't get it......... but hey, I just walked through the living room a few minutes ago and was witness to this... check this out...
.... that, gentle readers, is a girl who likes to read....... a goofy smile, sure, but she sure was enjoying that book....... and hey, you just gotta love a girl who reads........
The Harvey Girls...great cast, and I had a little bit of a thing for John Hodiak and that pencil-thin mustache he wore so well [generally, I hate mustaches], but still, not one of MGM's finest.
Did you hear the "we met at 9...we met at 8" song in Gigi? Awesome song, but, alas, not available on YouTube. Dorks.
I highly recommend Summer Stock...Judy's last film with MGM. And with Gene Kelly, who I know you loooove soooooo much.
.... the Missus and I drove up to Maryville this afternoon for lunch at Aubrey's and then a quick run through the local super Kroger..... this resulted in the purchase of tonight's and tomorrow's dinner..... it was a fair deal, I guess....... I picked something and she picked something else......
.... so what is for dinner tonight?..... HER choice, of course..... some sort of broccoli and cheddar quiche with a side of steamed cauliflower w/cheese sauce, and a Caesar salad.......
.... I chose lamb chops....... six nice, fresh, juicy, tender lamb chops.....
.... great bloody hell...... what the hell is quiche anyway?..... after 14 years, it looks like I would have trained her better by now...... y'all have fun..... I'm off to eat quiche........ pity me......
When that whole business came out a few years back about real men don't eat quiche, I just tucked my Colt .45 a bit more securely under my apron and sashayed back into the kitchen. As long as it has some kind of meat, I love quiche. Crumbled bacon, shrimp, whatever... So I s'pose I'm not a real man. And that makes me... ta da... Virtual Man...
Hell raised by Winston on February 3, 2008 07:36 AM
I'll go with your choice. As long as there's broccoli, I won't be right over.
Hell raised by holder on February 3, 2008 05:37 PM
Quiche, alas, has become a synonym for Non-Manly Food.
Why this should be, I don't know, because a properly-made quiche has enough calories and cholesterol to make Steve H. Graham blush. And a Quiche Lorraine even contains bacon.
Call it an egg, cream, and bacon-grease pie, and you no longer need feel the slightest pang of shame.
Hell raised by Elisson on February 4, 2008 08:43 AM
... many thanks to Mark from over at KOTGD for proclaiming my humble blog 'excellent'..... and not just excellent for any ole reason.... but excellent for my poignant ruminations!..... so thank you kindly, Mark...... I'm honored..... you're pretty damn excellent yourself!....
... in other news, I am insanely happy to report that my birdfeeder has achieved nuthatch!.... indeed, four new species showed up today.... a White-Breasted Nuthatch, a Red-Bellied Woodpecker, a Dark-Eyed Junco, and a Downy Woodpecker...... so, along with the titmice, finches, cardinals, blue jays, and chickadees, our tally of local tree-flitting varmints (who have dined at the feeder) be currently holding at 9.... of course, there are other birdies that don't like seed, but I'm not counting them.....
.... and since I know that you rubberneckers 1.) Don't really believe me, and 2.) Are just all over yourselves with excitement to actually see proof of the existence of these tiny creatures, here you go..... this, ladies and gentlemen, is a Tufted Titmouse feeding frenzy with a couple of Carolina Chickadees thrown in for spice..... the chickadees are the ones with the round, whitish heads..... the pointy-headed ones are the titmice.....
....... I tell you, boys and girls, I truly never knew that a small pile of nuts could focus the attention of so many beasts....... those birds were just plain mental.....
I bought a Poignant Rumination off a little old French lady once cause it looked like a cream puff. Let me tell you, boy. The French can't build cars for shit.
Hell raised by bitterman on February 2, 2008 11:55 AM
Bird brain. I can't believe I watched that video. Swingin' seed, indeed.
Hell raised by RedNeck on February 2, 2008 12:34 PM
I knew a Rumination family back home. Wonder if this Poignant Rumination is any relation to Jehosephat Rumination, who was the second cousin of the yardman who cut my second grade teacher's brother Mustafa's lawn.
Hell raised by Winston on February 2, 2008 05:50 PM
We had a heifer once that couldn't get poignant but through artificial rumination.
I'm wondering if that's kinda like this...
Hell raised by That 1 Guy on February 2, 2008 11:03 PM
A nation populated by Rumins? Check their Green Cards.
Hell raised by Jim - PRS on February 3, 2008 05:50 AM
Wow. I'm truly impressed with the number of ways that phrase was comically bandied about. And I needed a chuckle this morning.
You're welcome, Eric, it's the truth is all.
Question for you:
Do you pronounce it "nut-THatch" or nut-Hatch"?
Hell raised by Old Cloots on February 3, 2008 12:14 PM
You realize Bou is going to have a fit when she sees this? I'm thinking I may have to put up a feeder just to add to the fun. Then again, I think it would require me to get rid of the vultures first. Sigh. And yes, Happy dog is still alive and kicking.
Hell raised by vw bug on February 3, 2008 08:22 PM
