Imagine flipping over a long abandoned dog bowl and being greeted by this bad girl:
A couple of weeks ago I was asked to deal with a copperhead that had crawled on someone’s porch. And, not terribly sure, but might have heard a rattlesnake a couple of days ago. Been a while since I’ve heard one, so not sure and won’t swear that’s what it was. But, me and Moonlet calmly went inside. Last weekend while I was smoking in the garage with the door open, a red fox calmly walked in the garage, looked around a little bit, looked straight at me, calmly turned around and walked out the door.
I took the boy to see the only less than R rated movie we hadn’t seen in town in the last month or so. By default, it was Mr. Bean’s Holiday.
I’m speechless on this one. I don’t know how to describe it. I am truly humbled to say I liked it. It’s not side-splitting funny. It’s not witty to the point where you “get it”. There’s no crass humor. It’s just clever and pleasant. I felt good watching it, I felt good when it was over. It’s just a feel good movie and that’s all. The Mr. Bean schtick has been worn thin on me for a decade, but one more time never seems to make it any worse. I think I really like the fact that at no point in the movie do they feel compelled to over-explain a situation. It’s just a series of events tied together by Mr. Bean. There’s no contrived ending, no strange plot twists, nothing. It just meanders on and on and you have absoutely no way of guessing what’s going to happen next. I liked it. The four year old boy liked. I’m not sure why, probably the physical presentation of Mr. Bean, but he sat and watched it intently the whole time. And, that’s all that’s really important to me from a G rated movie. All thumbs up here, just don’t expect a lot.
Some kind of psychic karma must have been going on tonight. No sooner than I posted on the Blondie saga, I read that Hilly Kristal had died. Hilly Kristal was the founder of CBGB’s, the venue that launched Blondie and countless other bands of the 70’s and 80’s.
When I was about sixteen or so, I did what pretty much every kid does, I went alternative. About the only way you did that in rural Kentucky was buying mainstream music that just wasn’t quite the Osmonds. Things were pretty wide open in those days, so radio stations and most tv really couldn’t quite pen down acts into very narrow categories as they do now. One of those bands that seemed to fly all over the musical genre in 1979 was Blondie. They had a couple of hits with songs like Heart of Glass and Dreaming, but at the same time, were kinda raunchy at times as well. Debbie Harry’s voice just ate me up. I am guessing the winter of 1979, or 1980, Blondie was playing in Louisville, which is about two and half hours from here. Now, I had just gotten my license to drive, so I pretty well knew getting permission to drive to Louisville was out. Most of my friends were into very mainstream rock or heavy metal, so they were out. Things looked grim. However, I concocted a plan. My plans usually involved a certain level of lunacy that just didn’t seem right in the head, and often failed. But, I never gave up. The plan ya see, was I was going to take my friend Aaron. Now, Aaron had no car, no money, and could care less who Blondie was. He just liked doing things with me for some strange reason. He was kind of like a brother at the time. He was also six feet tall, blonde haired, blue eyed, and did a Hulk imitation that busted all the buttons off his shirt. In other words, as my Mom would describe him, he was very pleasing to look at. As much mental anguish as she had caused me letting me know this, I figured it was time to cash in and use it. So, I told my Mom AARON and I wanted to go see a concert in Louisville. With no hesitation at all, she agreed to spend five hours with me and Aaron in a car. Plan executed to perfection. The night of the show, however, came an ice storm that pretty much paralyzed Louisville. I pretty much knew the trip was off. Not so. As determined as I was to see Blondie, I think my mother was just as determined to spend five hours in a car with Aaron. She wasn’t backing down on this one. So, off we went. The roads were kind of bad, so Mom just drove slower. She was going to spend six hours in the car with Aaron, no big deal. She did bring a friend to go enjoy a quiet dinner while we rocked out, so all was just fine with her. I was in fifth heaven as well. We arrived at the show just as it was starting. This was pre-Who, so it was general admission. ( For you kids, that’s no seats at all. ) However, due to the storm, there was maybe, and I’m being generous, 300 people there. The place seated 3,000. Needless to say, it looked pretty sad. Blondie hit the stage about an hour late, I’m assuming hoping more people would show up. Maybe they did, I don’t really know. I can’t even remember how they opened the show, what song they sang, or if she even said hello. I was just kinda mesmerized. During one song she sang of smoking a cigarette, reached out and grabbed mine, and I was just stunned. That’s easy to do to a testosterone-starved sixteen year old. They basically rifled through their set as fast as they could and just walked off the stage. I was kinda disappointed with that. However, since the show ended a lot quicker than expected, I knew me and Aaron were stuck there for a while. Probably ten or fifteen minutes after the show ended, we were still leaning against the stage, smoking before Mom came back, up walks Debbie Harry. Y’know, I can’t recall a single word she said. However, she did want a cigarette and by sixteen I had already learned to give the babes whatever they want to keep them talking, so I did. She however, had her eyes set on Aaron. Now, this is where it got weird for me. Aaron really wouldn’t go for it. Now, I knew as well as he did that our chauffeur situation was slightly embarassing for the situation, but, a phone number, address, SOMETHING might lead to mightier moments in the future. Aaron wasn’t cooperating, I was dieing. We chatted for probably ten minutes or so with her sort of moving closer to Aaron and Aaron constantly backing up. I finally wedged myself against Aaron just so it wouldn’t be so obvious, he just sidled to the side. It was obvious, he wasn’t going for this even if it meant destroying his best friend. Finally, I gave completely up, she bummed another cigarette, we smoked, and off she went. I don’t recall saying two words to Aaron the whole trip home. It didn’t matter, him and Mom gabbed it up the whole way back. Some people’s priorities just elude me. Obviously, I never got the chance to follow up on that night with Debbie. Obviously, I never took Aaron to another concert either.
UPDATE: About thirty years too late: You know, I just read that Deborah Harry is quite gay. Not sure if she was then or not, but she apparently is now. Guess Aaron’s instincts were spot on and God’s sense of humor that has been my life just keeps coming up with new one-liners.
Apparently the folks at Miss Teen USA can’t coherently spell.
And, to top it off for me, whoever posted that pic on Collegehumor got it wrong too. It’s MISS, not Ms. Teen USA.
I knew there something kinda contagious about Caitlin.
( OK folks, I KNOW I’ve got a typo up there somewhere. Have at it! )
QUICKIE UPDATE: Oddly enough, the one person today that has given a complete sentence was this surprise guest on NBC this morning discussing this morning’s lunar eclipse. You guessed it, Caitlin Upton.
She better get up every single morning and thank God she’s stunning. Seriously, I’m gonna give Caitlin the benefit of the doubt here and assume she was nervous and froze. It’s not that she sounded stupid or anything, she just made absolutely no sense at all. I REALLY want to see more of her in the future and am not willing to do anything to discourage that at this point. Worst case scenario, she COULD be a weather girl for Foxnews. ( TAKE THAT HINT FOX. TAKE IT NOW! )
OK, let’s say you show up in another state with no money, no job, and no place to live. You do however, see fit to create a web page with instructions on how to find and molest small innocent children. You then get busted hanging out around places where small children congregate, taking pictures no less. After getting out of jail on a bizarre technicality that I’m sure only California could conceive, you’re free to return to not working, not doing anything constructive, and of course, encouraging perverts like yourself to molest small children, even if you have never been convicted of doing so. So, what thanks does California get for not locking this guy up for life?
I got news for McClellan. If he thinks California’s a nightmare, try showing up in Kentucky.
Idiot. Has anyone told him HE is his nightmare? He needs to understand that society expects our government to keep a very close eye on him. That’s not Orwellian, that’s the US Constitution. He also needs to understand that a LOT of places wouldn’t have been so complacent with what he’s done. I’m not going to go his route and suggest people break the law in regards to him. I’m just gonna suggest he get a new name, a new address, and tons of counseling to deal with his “nightmare”. I just really have never figured out pedophiles. At what point do they ever get the idea this activity is OK? How in the hell can someone like McClellan come to the conclusion that he could publicly encourage people to molest other people’s kids and the parents of those kids not want him dead? If a train was getting ready to hit this guy, I’d look the other way just for what he has done publicly so far. I’m not Orwell, I’m not a nightmare, I’m a parent. His nightmare is far from over. There are a lot of parents out there in every state.
I have referred to my ‘66 Corvair a couple of times in the past here. Particularly, my first road trip, and, my adventures in the wilds of Keno. Literally arising from the ashes of a long ago fire, I found this today:
That’s it peeps. My actual ‘66 convertible Corvair. Man, I was SOOOO cool those days!
Now, I really don’t think I want to watch it LIVE. In fact, I’ll just wish them well and not watch it at all. That’s the end of that one.
But wait, there’s more!
That’s right, Beyonce has breasts.
We can’t stop there now can we? Lindsay Lohan, in the legal move of the century by claiming the coke she was carrying was in someone ELSE’S pants won. She’s just a seven-time misdemeanor convict, but not felon. Felons are just people who are too stupid to think of an alibi like that apparently. Someone else’s pants. HAH! HAH! HAH! Gotta love a prosecutor with a sense of humor. If it were me, she’d probably be in prison.
Maria Sharapova, the tennis star made most famous for what’s under her dress, is now advising other up and coming tennis stars on what to wear what people want to see under as well.
And all of that was made even more trivial than it already was by the announcement that Jenna Jameson is retiring again. And to celebrate, she ditched her boobs. The truly shocking part of that to me is she is only 33. OK, let’s get this in perspective here. Everyone who’s made an “honest” living the last fourteen years and are ready to legally and financially retire raise your hands. She’s made millions doing what we all do for free. To me, that’s the the biggest headline so far. The money she made, not the boobs she ditched.
Well, I take that back. the pigeon dung being bad for bridges story was pretty captivating. But that would go on the spacedream I would think.
Three stories about boobs, two stories about breasts, one story about poop. There’s more, but that’s all I have to say about that right now
A flood picks your house up and sets it cleanly on railroad tracks.
I think this is a good time for the Oldham family to get right with God. I KNOW I would have to stop and ponder the meaning of this happening to me for a while. However, for me it’s purely speculative how I would respond and I can take all the time needed to come to some logical conclusion. Given that their house is sitting on tracks that I assume trains occasionally use, I worry that the Oldhams don’t have the same amount of time I do to ponder these things. So, I’m just suggesting they GET OUT NOW and ponder how to stop suffering the wrath ( and humor? ) of God in the future.
and 
