10.3.2016 (first posted this week 2010)
I know the shitty economy has affected several Lovely List Members and I
hope things have straightened out and you landed or you will land in a
better place than where you were bounced out of. I dunno if it's the
economy or the abject greed of the executives that run the biz I work
for, but it's looking kinda dire around here.
They tore down the
blimp hanger yesterday. All those airship commuters are outta fucking
luck. The bike racks were Craigslisted. The posting price was $65 and
some dick offered 16 bucks and the greedy scum jumped at it. Lucky I
both switched to skateboard and didn't park in the bike rack, cuz the
pedalestrians are outta lucko too. And next, I hear they're going to
cut the zero-vis guide ropes that stretch to the beach and what with the
fog we've been getting lately, the beach traffic is gonna end up in
Santa Monica. They conceded the helipad to thomeless, and the
three-story thomeless wagons are fifty abreast. God, the stink of them.
Thomeless smell really fuckin' bad, too.
Tonight - Doc's Clock
(It's about time. Oh, and CASH ONLY, too)
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
Thursday, October 20, 2016
Thursday, October 13, 2016
The Wind (REDUX)
10.2.2016 (first posted this week 2004)
Got a question for y'all: Did you wreck all yr Cat Stevens records, tapes and CDs when he turned out to be some alleged terrorist-sympathizer? I can say that I don't care much for terrorists or zealotry in any form, but back in the days before the name change, old Cat did him some quality recordings. You see "Harold and Maude?" His tunes were featured in that gem. Fact is, every time I hear a Cat Stevens tune I don't think about Osama BL or the El QWeda ... nope ... I think about "Harold and Maude." I think about a young Bud Court banging 80-year-old Ruth Gordon. Here's one of the best scenes:
INT. PRIEST'S OFFICE - DAY
It is the same little old priest we have met earlier.
He sits at his desk and addresses the camera like a TV
audience. A picture of the Pope is over his right
shoulder; a picture of Jesus Christ over his left.
PRIEST
(very reasoned and slow)
Now, Harold, the Church has
nothing against the union of
the old and the young. Each
age has its own beauty. But a
marital union is concerned with
the conjugal rights. And the
procreation of children. I
would be remiss in my duties if
I did not tell you that the
idea of --
(he swallows)
- intercourse - the fact of your young, firm --
(growing disturbed)
-- body commingling with the withered flesh, sagging breasts, and flabby buttocks - makes me --
(falls apart)
- want to vomit.
Tonight - Lone Palm
It's Low-retta's BDay!!! Only white linen tables for her.
Come on down and bestow your BDay wishes!!
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
Got a question for y'all: Did you wreck all yr Cat Stevens records, tapes and CDs when he turned out to be some alleged terrorist-sympathizer? I can say that I don't care much for terrorists or zealotry in any form, but back in the days before the name change, old Cat did him some quality recordings. You see "Harold and Maude?" His tunes were featured in that gem. Fact is, every time I hear a Cat Stevens tune I don't think about Osama BL or the El QWeda ... nope ... I think about "Harold and Maude." I think about a young Bud Court banging 80-year-old Ruth Gordon. Here's one of the best scenes:
INT. PRIEST'S OFFICE - DAY
It is the same little old priest we have met earlier.
He sits at his desk and addresses the camera like a TV
audience. A picture of the Pope is over his right
shoulder; a picture of Jesus Christ over his left.
PRIEST
(very reasoned and slow)
Now, Harold, the Church has
nothing against the union of
the old and the young. Each
age has its own beauty. But a
marital union is concerned with
the conjugal rights. And the
procreation of children. I
would be remiss in my duties if
I did not tell you that the
idea of --
(he swallows)
- intercourse - the fact of your young, firm --
(growing disturbed)
-- body commingling with the withered flesh, sagging breasts, and flabby buttocks - makes me --
(falls apart)
- want to vomit.
Tonight - Lone Palm
It's Low-retta's BDay!!! Only white linen tables for her.
Come on down and bestow your BDay wishes!!
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
Thursday, October 06, 2016
Static (REDUX)
10.1.2016 (first posted this week 2002)
I was reading in bed the other night. Finishing up a nice story by one of my fav. writers: A one Neal Barrett, Jr. I had my feet stuffed into the flap of the turned-down covers. After a bit, the totsys started to get hotsy. I pulled a foot out and I noticed I still had my lucky TV-static-colored sox on. These are good sox, even though their elastic done run off some time ago. A time like this, however, that’s a bonus. They easy to kick off.
In a jif, the sox were off. A mere heel to toe with pull and a repeat of said heel to toe with pull and that’s all she wrote. Two sox off and ready for ejectio! As the left side of my bed is against the wall, the only place to kick the sox was to my right, so I raised up my left leg, so as to allow a right-foot scoop-and-kick, and let them lucky sox go. Seems my cat was sitting just down range, most likely admiring the white noise machine (read: Fan). If an Army colonel could have seen Fatty’s reaction under bombardment he would have conscripted the little shit in a minute and sent him to the front. As an artillery “spotter,” as they were formerly known, or as an “F.O.” as they’re known these days. “Forward Observer.” Times I got a different meaning for F.O. for this cat.
Fats didn’t bat an eye. I think the left sock actually grazed him and he could not have cared less. This from a cat that jumps two feet in the air when a bee farts in Florida. I saw his bravery while under the onslaught of flying sox and pictured him calling in Snake and Nape on his own position in some faraway mudhole in an act of supreme selflessness. It’s a Grand Old Flag, Fats. Fats?
Seems Fats had deserted his post during my fantasy-time.
Oh, but here he was up on the bed with me after all. “Hi Old Man,” I said. He looked at me sideways. “Hey,” I said, “you think you can NOT pull that early-AM squawking tomorrow morning like you pulled THIS morning?” “Tell you what,” Fats said, “you don’t pull a ‘forgot to feed and water the cats’ tonight and I’ll see what I can do about the squawking. Deal?” Seemed reasonable. “Arrrrright,” I said.
Tonight - Zeitgeist
(get your Octoberfest on with entertainment by Bayern Maiden)
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
I was reading in bed the other night. Finishing up a nice story by one of my fav. writers: A one Neal Barrett, Jr. I had my feet stuffed into the flap of the turned-down covers. After a bit, the totsys started to get hotsy. I pulled a foot out and I noticed I still had my lucky TV-static-colored sox on. These are good sox, even though their elastic done run off some time ago. A time like this, however, that’s a bonus. They easy to kick off.
In a jif, the sox were off. A mere heel to toe with pull and a repeat of said heel to toe with pull and that’s all she wrote. Two sox off and ready for ejectio! As the left side of my bed is against the wall, the only place to kick the sox was to my right, so I raised up my left leg, so as to allow a right-foot scoop-and-kick, and let them lucky sox go. Seems my cat was sitting just down range, most likely admiring the white noise machine (read: Fan). If an Army colonel could have seen Fatty’s reaction under bombardment he would have conscripted the little shit in a minute and sent him to the front. As an artillery “spotter,” as they were formerly known, or as an “F.O.” as they’re known these days. “Forward Observer.” Times I got a different meaning for F.O. for this cat.
Fats didn’t bat an eye. I think the left sock actually grazed him and he could not have cared less. This from a cat that jumps two feet in the air when a bee farts in Florida. I saw his bravery while under the onslaught of flying sox and pictured him calling in Snake and Nape on his own position in some faraway mudhole in an act of supreme selflessness. It’s a Grand Old Flag, Fats. Fats?
Seems Fats had deserted his post during my fantasy-time.
Oh, but here he was up on the bed with me after all. “Hi Old Man,” I said. He looked at me sideways. “Hey,” I said, “you think you can NOT pull that early-AM squawking tomorrow morning like you pulled THIS morning?” “Tell you what,” Fats said, “you don’t pull a ‘forgot to feed and water the cats’ tonight and I’ll see what I can do about the squawking. Deal?” Seemed reasonable. “Arrrrright,” I said.
Tonight - Zeitgeist
(get your Octoberfest on with entertainment by Bayern Maiden)
bye-ee!
whrr ... clik!
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