it comes in pints?

Country/Western Trivia (I forgot something Edition) (UPDATED)

Well I'll be hornswoggled

Ah searched and 'tweren't thar. I coulda sworn I used this question before in one of my generic "Country/Western Trivia" posts.

Yeah, so I'm home early from work today. The solar system for the swimming pool sprung a new leak (separate and distinct from the leak I patched a few weeks back). Oh well. I guess that's what happens when the system is like 15 years old. Grumble.

Anyway, I located the leak but can't fix it today. That's because I had to turn on the equipment to find it. Now I can't patch it because it's wet (insert that old leaky roof joke here). Also because it's late afternoon, it's over 100° in the shade, and the roof ain't in the feckin' shade. So I shut off the solar component and I'll fix it Saturday.

Meantime, while I was up on the roof frying, this song popped into my head and, for the life of me, I couldn't remember if anyone had answered my question about it correctly. No one had.

Not your fault, children, it was mine. Apparently I had totally forgotten to include this particular question. Ergo, hence, and therefore, I am including it here as the first question, since it's pretty much a gimme. Didn't want to disappoint, though, so I came up with another couple of questions. No need to thank me, it's what I do.

Once again, two gimmes and a toughie.

1) I was raised in a canebrake by an old mama lion. Who cain't do what, and what is my job? [Brian: Cain't no high tone woman make me walk the line, and I am a coal miner (at 16 tons a shot)]

2) If I was toting my pack along the dusty Winnemucca road, where have I been? [Angie: I've been everywhere, apparently including Australia and New Zealand]

And the toughie:

3) We come from West Virginia coal mines and the Rocky Mountains. Who are we and what can we do? [Lisa: Country boys and we can survive (and she upbraids me for thinking this was a tough question]

UPDATE: Well, just for Lisa, I'll add another one I think is tough. Perhaps it's not, we'll see:

4) Some people say that's a strange tattoo on the side of your head. What is it? [Thornharp: It's a coal tattoo]

Save an animal, shoot a PETArd

Spare us from idiots. Yeah, I know, I say that a lot but I gotta tell ya, animal rights morons are the worst enemy of animals.

I'm serious. Never mind the fact that PETA slaughters thousands of animals each year to save money. Never mind that Bob Barker et al. think it's terrible to kill animals for food or fur (much less fun) but it's just peachy to cut off their genitals.

It goes way beyond that. (Via Andrea)

I am continually amazed at the "animal lovers" who think it's terrible to kill animals for any reason, including a relative who doesn't like culling animal herds even if it leads to overpopulation and ultimate starvation vastly more animals, because "that's natural".

I am not making this up. [In fairness, this person eats meat and is okay with the fact that I hunt (since I eat what I kill, except the coyotes and squirrels*), and is not otherwise an animal rights, antimedicine nutjob, but s/he doesn't like killing coyotes or racoons or mountain lions simply because they are in populated areas and destroy a few yard plants and the occasional housepet or small child]

*I have no particular aversion to eating squirrels, but the ones in the area I hunt have the nasty little side-effect of carrying fleas which carry bubonic plague. So if I shoot them, it's just for fun and/or retribution for the Black Death. Nothing personal.

Where was I?

Oh yeah. I'll never forget that 20-some years ago, Angel Island in San Francisco Bay had a terrible deer overpopulation problem. I can't find the story online but here's a nutshell version:

The deer were in danger of mass starvation. The first idea floated was culling the herd. Naturally, the animal rights freaks came unglued. HORRIBLE! HORRIBLE! TO EVEN CONTEMPLATE KILLING BAMBI!

So they floated more ideas. One of these, and I KID YOU NOT, was to introduce coyotes to the island. Because, of course, it's far more humane and natural to have deer ripped apart piece by piece by predators than killed with one quick bullet. That, of course, assumes that coyotes could take down a full-grown deer, which of course, they do not normally do. They are of a size to concentrate on Baby Bambis, at least until the adults are so debilitated by hunger or disease that they can't escape.

Then, Cleveland Amory and his band of roving idiots got involved. Ultimately, it was decided to attempt to airlift deer off the island to safety using helicopters.

I kid you not.

They actually tried it. Punchline? More than half the deer they attempted to airlift died of stress and trauma.

Unbe-fucking-lievable. And these clowns think they are "helping" animals. Pathetic.

Screaming Thinking Memes

I got my sorry ass tagged again, so:

"I'm thinking it over!"

Which, of course, is a punchline in search of the joke. Drop the setup in the comments, if you're of a mind to.

Anyway, the lovely Army of Mom tagged me. Seems the poor deluded girl thinks this is some kind of "thinking blog". Well, obviously she's referring to Emily and Dave. Then again, I did do some thinking, such as it is, for that last post. So I'll take what I can get.

I guess this means I'm supposed to tag some other blogs that I consider "Thinking Blogs", i.e., blogs that involve thinking and/or making me think. Actually, it becomes difficult to pare down the list of blogs that do these things. But I shall try….

Not Exactly Rocket Science: CTG is a professor of something (never quite figured out exactly what her field is, but it seems to be scientific). Always a good read, with the light material of quizzes and word associations mixed in.

Ricki's Rants and Rambles: Long time commenter here, the dear Ricki is also a professor of something (in the humanities field, I think, but again I'm not exactly sure). Her slapdowns of lazy students are spectacular, as are her rants on bureaucratic nonsense.

A Boy Named Sous: Our buddy Brian has been tres busy lately with work and school, but he manages to throw out some great Musical Geography Questions periodically, and his sparring on illegal immigration with some opposing folk are outstanding.

The Bitch Girls: Bitter carries the bulk of the load, and I do miss Spooky and the other bitches, but Bitchy Mom pitches in with her own pithy observations and comments. Lots of cool gun stuff, plus politics and slapping down of the Nanny State. Which reminds me, I don't do nearly enough gun blogging.

And as my fifth victim, I shall choose…

The lovely, brilliant, and knocked up* Tree Hugging Sister: Insightful commentary, delicious cheesecake, and beating up on younger brothers. Who could ask for more? UPDATE: And just in case it's not obvious, the "thinking" stuff includes the lovely, brilliant, and knocked up Mr. Bingley, who is also invited to participate.

*Don't want to make that mistake twice. As my mom used to say, it's always fun until the Marine chick and her Marine husband beat the snot out of you.

To expand on a theme and segue into a rant

To pick up and run with an idea expounded here by Ricki and Julie, I think it is true that Rock 'n' Roll, and popular music in general, have really lost the good voices. The rockers and crooners of the '50s and '60s did know how to sing, while the later generations, to a great extent, did not.

But another idea has bounced around my head for many years now, and to a degree it ties in with Brian's post here. That post has morphed into a fun repository of great lines from "WKRP in Cincinnati", to which you should go immediately and add your favorites. But after you finish reading this post.

Anyway, the way it ties in is from this exchange, which goes (as best I can recall) as follows:

Johnny: So you guys play punk rock.

Blood: No, we play hoodlum rock. It's several notches below punk rock.

Johnny: What's the difference?

Blood: Well, for one thing, punk rockers dress deplorably

Well, sad to say, it's not just punk rockers who dress deplorably.

STRANGE INTERLUDE ABOUT PUNK ROCK: Back when I was kid, I didn't understand why construction workers wanted to beat up people (hippies) simply because of how they looked. Then punk rock came around, and suddenly I understood. Too bad Sid Vicious died on his own before I could kick his ass.

Where was I? Oh yeah, rockers dressing deplorably. It's true. This post has been bouncing around my poor little synapses for a while, but I was inspired to go ahead and write it by my searching the 'net to put together this post, as well as the discussions here and here.

When I went looking for Buddy Holly material to trigger trivia questions, I was (not for the first time) struck by how well the rockers of the '50s dressed. This was true of all the greats from the '50s and early '60s, no matter how odd their onstage antics. It even held into the mid '60s.

Sadly, something was lost during the "Summer of F***ing Our Drug-addled Brains Out", and rockers and pop singers in general began dressing deplorably. Worse, their sartorial slovenliness slopped over into other areas. Where once Country/Western and Bluegrass musicians dressed well, more slovenliness has crept in and settled.

Somewhere, something was lost. I'd like ro see it come back. I know, there are a few throwbacks to the nicer styles (I might know of more examples if I followed current music more closely) but by and large it seems that popular music has been sartorially castrated.

I think it's kind of a shame.

If I can make it to the Borders...

Hadn't been there in a while and we had some soon-to-expire discounts on hand, so the Sainted Bride and I made a Borders run today. I picked up a giant, illustrated gun book - free time is next to nil these days so I gets my shooting in vicariously.

Also, having recently had quizzes about them, I picked up this and this.

And I'm having some good listenin'...

Rock 'n' Roll Trivia (No Particular Edition)

Eh. I just posted one but I've been having fun with my new toy. Haven't had a functioning turntable (for the kids in the audience, that's pronounced "tern-tay-bull") in some time and it's fun to go back through all the old albums ("al-bums") I haven't listened to in years. We have a lot of old vinyl ("vie-null") that has just been sitting there for years.

Listened to Blood, Sweat, and Tears (expect a R'RT post sometime) while writing the last one, then moved on to another album (see above for pronunciation), which made this question pop into my head:

Why did Smackwater Jack buy a shotgun?

Rock 'n' Roll Trivia (Buddy Holly Edition)

UPDATE: All answers nailed. I'm proud of you, kids!

Yep, still stuck in the '50s. Oddly though, there is no Buddy Holly at all on my 50s collections, only in my Buddy Holly collection. But that's okay, because I typically have a Buddy Holly song pop into my head about once a week. And this week is no different.

Buddy was an original, with an amazing set of songs for so short a career.

Whoa, majorly sidetracked while writing this. I looked up some stuff while writing and read some new trivia (NOTE: Usual Wikipedia caveats in place):

First, everyone knows that Waylon Jennings was in Buddy Holly's band (NOT the Crickets, as lots of people seem to think) and was bumped from that last, fatal flight by the Big Bopper. What I had never heard before was

In his 1996 autobiography, Jennings admitted for the first time that in the years afterward, he felt severe guilt and responsibility for the crash. After Jennings gave up his seat, Holly had jokingly told him, "I hope your ole bus freezes up!" Jennings shot back facetiously, "I hope your damn plane crashes!" These words would haunt him for years.

Second, everyone who matters knows that John Lennon chose the band name "Beatles" as a tribute to Buddy Holly and the Crickets. What I had never heard before, though I had heard the "cricket in the studio" story, was that Buddy Holly and the band actually considered the name "The Beatles" before deciding on "Crickets". For those of you who haven't heard the cricket story:

Legend has it that The Crickets chose their name while listening to a playback of "I'm Gonna Love You Too." A cricket was chirping in a garage that contained a speaker used for an echo effect, and could be heard at the end of the song. While this event did occur, and Holly's manager and owner of the studio decided to keep the chirping in the record, this is in no way tied to the origin of the band's name. In reality, they chose the name due to its similarity to that of the current-popular band Bill Haley & His Comets, and they wanted a name that would sound catchy to the audience. It is worth noting that they almost chose the name: The Beatles,[1] which John Lennon later named his band in homage to Holly and the Crickets.

Okay, with that new stuff out of the way, it's on to the trivia: And I'm not holding to any usual pattern, there are some gimmes and some not so, but not in that order. Oddly, much like a recent Country/Western Trivia question, there is a theme though I suspect it's a wee bit more obscure (and in case anyone wants to guess the theme, it is in a particular order).

1) You give me all your lovin' and your turtle dovin'. What else? [Lisa: All your hugs and kisses and your money too]

2) What do you whisper soft and true? [The Bingster: Words of love]

3) What would it take to know why I feel blue? [The Bingster: If you knew Peggy Sue]

4) What's goin' faster than a rollercoaster? [Julie: Love like ours]

5) My love's bigger than a Cadillac, and won't do what? [Joel: Won't fade away]

6) It's funny honey, you don't care, and you never listen, to my prayer. Maybe what? [Joel: Maybe baby, I'll have you for me]

7) Stars appears and shadows are fallin'. What can you hear? [Joel: You can hear my heart a-callin']

8) So here I go breakin´ all of the rules. Why? [The Bingster: Because it's so easy to fall in love]

9) The little things you say and do make me want to do what? [NJ Sue, Mr. Bingley's Better Half 99% 100%: Make me want to be with you]

10) Sometimes we'll sigh and sometimes we'll cry, but just you and I know what? [The Bingster: True love ways]

11) If a lonely heart grows cold and old, what should you do? [NJ Sue, Mr. Bingley's Better Half 99% 100%: Think it over]

12) [Fittingly, this one rounds out the list and is my favorite Buddy Holly song] I'll find somebody new and we'll say we're through. Then what? [The Bingster: You won't matter anymore]

The Friday Fuck Off Thread

Kevin Lowe can just fuck the fucking fuck off. Not because I'm one of those wussies who thinks it's unfair when sports actually get, you know, competitive and stuff, but because the jackass did it when he knew the Burke was gone fishing and before Scotty was ready to make his decision about retirement public. You desperate assfuck, going after our boy that, in case you hadn't noticed - and I'm sure you have, because nobody offers a deal that big without thinking about it for a little bit, unless they are totally fucking stupid, which I think Lowe just might be - has been nursed through the minors for most of his career and didn't really get his game on until he found the right chemistry with the other boys on his line only last year, and now you're trying to snatch him up at that price? Holy shit. I know Edmonton has still pathetically not gotten over the fact that Chris Pronger left because their town sucked (okay, and other reasons....), but give me a break. Back off, Oilslicks.

Nightfly...are you out there? Because I need a hockey hug. Hold me.

Good

The California Supremes did something right.

State high court limits seizure of cars of prostitution and drug suspects

Justices toss out a Stockton ordinance that allowed confiscation upon arrest in such cases. L.A.'s city attorney was among the parties supporting such police powers.

By John Spano, Times Staff Writer
12:00 PM PDT, July 26, 2007

The California Supreme Court ruled this morning that police may not confiscate the cars of suspected prostitutes or drug dealers unless the owners are convicted first.

Over strong dissent, the high court threw out a Stockton ordinance that allowed seizure of cars used in drug and prostitution cases upon arrest.

Good. It is outrageous that they would impound the cars of unconvicted suspects to the tune of up to $2,000. What a frickin' cash cow that was.

Oh, and by the way (II)

I really don't care what Emily thinks of them, I'm doing a R'n'R Trivia question on them because I happen to LOVE this song.

Cotton frocks and golden locks, the palace is what?

Oh, and by the way...

I'm listening to Loggins and Messina at the moment. Expect a L&M Rock 'n' Roll Edition soon...

But probably not tonight.

Country/Western Trivia (Johnny Horton Edition)

UPDATE: Last answers added.

Okay, I'm going to cheat on this one just a wee-tiny bit. Normally my rule is that I will use a question from a song I've heard, even if I don't remember the lyrics and have to look them up. This time, I'm going to use at least one I've never heard, just because it's too cool. My apologies all around, but I didn't know until I went a-googlin' just how many songs Johnny sang (and probably wrote) about historical events. Oh yes, I knew some, but there were far more I didn't know about. But in the interest of full disclosure, I will note the ones I had never heard.

Anyway, here goes, starting with the mega-easy ones first:

1) Musta been a hundred of 'em doing what? And what did we stand beside? [Joel: A hundred Brits beatin' on the drum. And please don't feel guilty, even if it's a gimme]

2) Out of the cold and foggy night came what? [Wolfwalker: Came the British ship, the Hood]

3) He had a partner named George Pratt and a brother named Billy. Who was he? Where did he leave from and when? And where did he go? [Wolfwalker: He was Big Sam, and he left Seattle in the year of (18)92 and went North to Alaska]

4) When it's springtime in Alaska, what is it? [Wolfwalker: When it's springtime in Alaska, it's 40 below]

5) [Full disclosure: I knew of this song, but not that Johnny Horton sang it] There was a whine and a rock and the great explosion roared. What laid on the ocean floor? [Spoiler: The "Reuben James"]

6) [Full disclosure: Again, I never knew Johnny sang this one] He's big around the middle and broad across the rump, runnin' ninety miles an hour takin' thirty feet a jump. Who is he? [Spoiler: "Ole Slew Foot"]

7) [Full disclosure: Another classic I never knew that Johnny sang] What's a mighty good road, indeed, it's the road to ride? [Wolfwalker: Rock Island Line]

8) [Full disclosure: I never knew there was even a song written about this guy, but I remember reading about him when I was a mere snip of a youth] In 1855 in old California a man was a looking in the paper one day. Uncle Sam needed a postman to carry the mail through the High Sierra Mountains over God forsaken trails. Who told 'em he knew he was their man? [Joel: Snowshoe Thompson. Seriously, I never knew anyone wrote a song about him, and it's tres cool that Joel got it without knowing that also]

9) [Full disclosure again: I vaguely remember this one from the far distant past, but not by Johnny] You marched into battle with the Grey and the Red, when the cannon smoke cleared it took days to count the dead. Who fought all the way? [Wolfwalker: Johnny Reb]

The lost verse (updated)

I was right. The song "El Paso" was released in two different versions by Marty Robbins. You'll notice on the album cover pictured here are listed both "El Paso" and "El Paso (Full-Length Version)".

I listened to that album on vinyl when I was kid and knew, or thought I knew, all the lyrics to the song. I'm reasonably, but not absolutely, certain that it did not have the "full-length" version on it. Many years later, I heard it with a verse I didn't recall, and just assumed that I had simply not remembered it. This was reinforced by the Grateful Dead's versions I heard, both on album and in concert.

So the 50s CD collection I recently acquired that inspired the post has the short version. So my questions to you, dear readers, are:

1) Does anyone know to which verse I refer?

2) Does anyone know why that particular verse was dropped, or potentially added later?

Please. Inquiring minds want to know. Just as a helpful hint, the full-length lyrics are here and here.

UPDATE: Even as I'm updating this, I'm listening to the Grateful Dead version from the album "Steal Your Face". It is definitely not as good as the version I heard them do back in '77 or '78. That one would have done Marty Robbins proud.

ANYhoo, after posting this I found a website devoted to Marty Robbins, run by a lovely fan name of Kristy. I sent an email to her, and she VERY promptly replied. The reason is not exactly certain, but it seems that Columbia thought the original song was too long for airplay so one verse was cut. For some odd reason, the shortened version was the one included on albums too. I've noticed this also with other songs, too, though I don't offhand recall another short version used on an album. All I can say is, thank goodness modern people have longer attention spans, so that we can enjoy full-length versions, director's cuts, and such.

Oh, and before I forget, my typing skills are slow. As I finish this post, "El Paso" has finished and I've moved the needle back to the beginning of that side, in which the 'Dead cover Johnny Cash's excellent song "Big River". And by the time I hit post on this update, I may actually have changed the record to their marvelous rendition of "The Promised Land". Say what you want about hippies and Deadheads, and lord knows I've complained enough, the 'Dead covered some good material.

Priceless

I normally shy away from the train wrecks that are L*ndsay and Br*tney, et al. Every once in a while, though, there is a truly outstanding line that cannot be passed up.

Some people are content to simply fall off the wagon.

Other people set their wagon on fire, drive it off the highest cliff they can find and detonate a small nuclear device about halfway down. Count Lindsay Lohan in this camp.

Heh.

Apparently, this one includes not only the usual DUI and possession, but possible vehicular assault.

When life hands you lemons, and all that

This is one of those breathlessly written ecodisaster stories, and I'm not really sure why.

Voracious jumbo squid invade California
Wed Jul 25, 8:15 AM ET

MONTEREY, Calif. - Jumbo squid that can grow up to 7 feet long and weigh more than 110 pounds are invading central California waters and preying on local anchovy, hake and other commercial fish populations, according to a study published Tuesday.

Calamari for everyone!

Check out the picture too. Technically, it's safe for work but someone could conceivably freak out.

Headline of the Day

Weekly World News to close (aliens not blamed!)

RIP, Mrs. Cold Fury

This is horrible, horrible news. I just don't have any words.

Only in L.A. - I Hope

Overheard this morning in the doughnut shop: some guy carrying on about an apparent guvmit conspiracy to cause the rain we're having. "It was ninety degrees yesterday with no clouds and now there are thunder storms! How can that happen?"

Thunder storms...jeebus, even rain is an overstatement. The drizzle was so slight, I didn't even bother with an umbrella.

You can't make this stuff up. George Bush is making it rain in L.A. What a bastard.

Oh dear

Go here. All the best, dearest Rebecca.

Country/Western Trivia (Gunfighter Ballads Edition)

[Last of the answers added]

Am I falling into a pattern? Well mebbe so, but I prefer to think of it as a theme. And speaking of themes, some of our more traveled readers may detect a theme (and I hope I got the original theme correct).

1) There was forty feet between them when? [Angie: When they stopped to make their play (and the swiftness of the Ranger is still talked about today) - one thing I've always liked about the way this song was written is the way the protagonist is "stranger", becoming "Ranger" when the folks know who he is]

2) He's a devil, not a man, and what does he do? [Julie: He spreads the burning sand with water]

3) Way out in New Mexico long, long, ago, what was a man's only chance? [Mike: A man's only chance was his own .44]

4) I've got an old stove that'll cook three square. Where? [Answer: On my 160 acres in the valley]

5) They'll bury Flo tomorrow. What are they doing tonight? [Mike: They're hanging me tonight]

6) He's a sun-fishin' son of a gun, and I lights in a cussin' the day of his birth. Who is he? [Angie is on the right track] [Mike: The Strawberry Roan]

7) Five cowboys ride to my right. How many ride off to my left? [Angie knows it but gracefully bows out to let others answer] [Mike and Joel: Off to my left ride a dozen or more]

8) I'm as sad as the willow that weeps where? [Answer: In the valley]

9) This kind of sinful living leads only to a fall. I learned that much and more the night I heard what? [Mike: The night I heard the Master call]

10) A woman's love is wasted when she loves what? [Answer: A Running Gun]

11) Where will my homesick heart trouble me no more? [Answer: The little green valley]

12) Run in your ponies closer and I'll tell to you my tale of whom? [Answer: I'll tell you my tale of Utah Carol]

Bonus Question: What is the theme, exactly? [Mike nails the bonus question, it's the album pictured below]

And in the interest of full disclosure, I myself would not have gotten several of these. I've heard them all but it's been a long time and I didn't recall the lyrics to some.

Praises

Tonight we sing the praises of Buck Ram. 100 lo-cal MBP points to the first person who can say why.

Rock 'n Roll Trivia (Platters Edition)

UPDATE: Finally got around to updating with the answere people have gotten. Only #1 is still unguessed.

Well, admittedly this stretches the definition of Rock 'n' Roll somewhat, but even though the Platters belong more to Doo-Wop than to R'n'R, I always associate them with the latter.

Not much happening today. SB, DNT, and I went over the hill to pick up some patio furniture at CostPlus. I learned that Vegemite may no longer be available in this country (see below). Then, on the way home there were fires by the freeway. We had take two cars to fit everything, and the SB and DNT went to get some gasoline before heading back over the hill. I cruised toward home and saw three, count 'em, three fires by the side of the freeway. Once I got to a safe spot (not in heavy traffic), I call them to tell them to be careful. They were already past the first fire, having been very quick at the gas station, and had become engulfed in smoke from it.

So after they got home we compared notes. When I passed the fires, there were three very small ones with little smoke, and that blowing away from the freeway. When they passed the fires, barely 15 minutes later, there were two, one very large billowing smoke across the freeway, and one small one.

So we gather that two of the little ones coalesced into one fairly large fire. We never called the fire department, though. DNT tried calling 911 but got a busy signal, and they passed some firetrucks going in the other direction, so we're pretty sure it got called in.

Anyhow, after we got home and got stuff put away, I took off for a bike ride. I was listening to a CD, as I am wont to do on my weekly bike ride, and this particular disk was of songs from 1956. Well, gotta tell ya, there really isn't all that much from 1956 that I like but there is some, and one of these inspired me for today.

Then, while I was putting this together, I got a rather nasty shock. A particular song I was all prepared to use, I found to my eternal surprise and shame, was never covered by the Platters. The version I had always assumed was the Platters was by the Duprees. So here's a minor, tangential, Duprees-related trivia question:

Watch the jungle when it's wet with rain, and do what? [Ricki: Well, she didn't actually give the title but she obviously has the right song, even if she thinks it's "creepy"; the answer to the specific question asked is "Just remember till you're home again, you belong to me".]

And yes, I shall feel eternal shame that I did not know who originally covered this song.

That dispensed with, here are some questions about my beloved Platters:

1) If I play the game but, to my shame, you left me to grieve on my own, who am I?

2) Who can make the darkness bright? [Alan obviously knows the answer. It's "Only Fred You".]

3) When your heart's on fire, what must you realize? [Angie: "Smoke Gets in Your Eyes"]

4) Fingers of night will soon surrender the setting sun, and we'll be together when? [Angie: At "Twilight Time"]

5) I hoped and I prayed that someday I'd be the vision of your happiness. Who are you? [Ricki: "Earth Angel"]

6) It casts a spell and it rings a bell. What is it? [Ricki: "The Magic Touch"]

7) They once brought you to me, then only told me were parting. What are they? [Ricki: The "Harbor Lights"]

Oh, and by the way, anyone who leaves a comment along the lines of "who are the Platters?" will be hunted down and flogged. With extreme prejudice.

What the F***?

Is it or ain't it?

So I keep trying to put together a Rock 'n' Roll Trivia post, and I keep coming up against dopey shit. Is Vegemite banned in this country or not?

I tried to buy some at Cost Plus today. They don't carry it because it's banned by the FDA. Well, this is ultra-uber-retarded, because Marmite is still available. So I bought some Marmite.

Anyway, I searched on it late this afternoon. So is it or ain't it? After having my memory jogged at Tim Blair's place, I now vaguely recall hearing something about it (at Blair's place, natch). All the references seem to end with the idea that it's not true, just an urban legend or rumor or something.

Then I find that Cost Plus does not carry it because it's banned by the FDA. So what the fuck?

Anyway, having searched on it, I'm truly stunned and appalled by the supposed reason it's banned:

Apparently the spread has been deemed illegal as it contains folic acid - which, according to the FDA, must only be present in breads and cereals.

Okay, does anyone remember the recent stupid flap about folic acid?

So let's get this straight:

1) The government is going to tell ALL women of childbearing age, whether they plan to become pregnant or not, to take folic acid.

2) The government bans Vegemite because it contains folic acid.

What the fucking fuckity fuck?

And yes, I'm trying to put together the R'n'R trivia post. It's just taking a while because I get sidetracked by this retarded bullshit.

Joe Bob Briggs Post

Jee Zuss Kee Riced. I guess it's not censorship if you censorship it for lack of balls. (Via Tim Blair)

Weird request

For the chemists and related scientists in the audience. Pronounce this word: "HEPES"

Heh heh heh

Heh heh heh

Why yes, the wife's still out for a while and I'm using the computer. Why do you ask?

Oh gawd

So I was watching "Jeopardy!" while it taped. When the taping stopped, the VCR shut off and the TV switched to the feed channel, or whatever it's called. One of those stupid celebrity "news" shows was on (no idea which, ET or something).

They showed a clip of Larry King interviewing Tammy Faye Messner on national TV or cable or whatever the hell he's on. Gawd. As much as I detest her life and actions on this earth, I don't wish that kind of cancer and suffering on anybody*. I don't care if she even wanted to do the interview, Larry King can fuck off for doing it. Even if I were one of those weird people that for some reason still like her, for chrissake let people remember her in vitality, not in this horrible state (65 pounds and in terrible pain).

Cancer can Fuck Off.

*Yeah, rare exceptions that we need not go into here.

Which reminds me (as did the little teaser they did about "coming up: what James Bakker is doing today). I still can't get over the stupidity of his sentence all those years (how frickin' many?) ago. IIRC, it was something like 45 years. For christ's sake, murderers get less.

It's not that I much condone fleecing idiots. I don't consider his sentence to be objectively excessive, but puh-leeze. But how many did he, like, actually kill? When murderers routinely get off with a few years, or get released early for whatever reason, 45 years really does seem excessive.

Name that book!

Eh. While waiting for Final Jeopardy, here's a little trivia. Been so long I really can't remember if the lines were used in the movie.

"Yes, I'm a liar. I've always been a liar."

"Well don't brag about it. It's childish."

BTW, this is from memory. I have the book on tape and this line I heard on the way home from work, and it may not be exactly right. If I get to the liberry tomorrow, I'll check the accuracy and update with the corrected passage.

Got home a little late

I was trying to get home in time for "Jeopardy!" tonight. I still missed the first few minutes.

Why tonight in particular? The daughter of some friends is on the Teen Tournament. SB and DNT are at their house for a "Jeopardy!"-watching party. I got home late and I'm too tired to go, but I'm watching what I can.

Cool. She's "obsessed with Shakespeare". I'll update with the results.

UPDATE: At the break she's leading, and the Canadian kid from some "School for Gifted Children" is sucking hind teat. But Third Place Canucky Gifted Boy gets a category of "Famous Canadians". Got the first one right, too.

UPDATE: Yeah! She got the second daily double!

UPDATE: More Yeah! Leading by far at the end of Double Jeopardy. Go baby!

UPDATE: Rats! She didn't win tonight. Canucky-boy won. Well good for him. BUT both of the gals from tonight's game become semifinalists based on their scores. You go girls!

Just for the record, this show was taped several weeks ago but her family was sworn to secrecy about the results so, while we've had suspicions about the outcome, we haven't really known until tonight.

The Friday Fuck Off Thread

To:

The manager of my office building, who expects us to keep every light switched off to save on the electricity bill while he's too fucking lazy to spend five minutes figuring out how to program the automatic air conditioner so that it doesn't kick on in the evenings and weekends when nobody's here.

Governing bodies that have the authority to pass legislation regarding subjects that they know absolutely nothing about that will ultimately require hours of extra work on my part but won't make the slightest fucking difference in terms of what the laws were intended to accomplish.

Sports Illustrated (a few weeks late - couldn't get around to the issue until last night). For fuck's sake, some of the best free agents in the game being swapped around, players like Sidney Crosby, the Predators drama, California getting the Stanley Cup for the first time, and the best fucking cover you can give hockey is a "where are they now?" feature about some guys from a thirty-year-old movie filled with nothing but bullshit we could all easily learn courtesy of Google and a visit to their website? What the fuck? Don't get me wrong. I love that movie, but come on.

And finally, you little shitstain of a brother, you can seriously fuck off. The rest of that story is below, if you care.

If you don't, fire away. And have a great weekend.

It didn't last long. He was at my place by a quarter to five and gone before the hour was up. He asked me "how are you?" and the most I could muster was "pissed off." I barely spoke to him. I made us dinner and just sat on the couch and read, basically ignoring him and just grunting brief answers when he asked me any questions. I told him he didn't get to stay at my house during the day while I was at work because I couldn't trust him. He asked what time I left in the morning before work. I said between five and six. He said he couldn't get up that early because of the medication he took - which is complete and utter horseshit. When he stays with my parents in Colorado he easily gets up at those early hours. Does he think my parents and I don't talk to each other or something?

Then I just lost it. He has this habit of pounding around like an ape - and he's a big guy, 6'7" tall and gawd knows how much weight. The thing is, I live on the second floor, which means my poor downstairs neighbors have to listen to his thougtless racket-making like somebody's dropping bombs on their ceiling. I get angry at him about this every single fucking time he comes over and it never, ever, ever gets through his goddamm head because if it isn't something that bothers HIM, if it doesn't put HIM out or take away anything from HIM, then it just plain doesn't matter. He did it once, flopped his thug feet on the floor like the noise didn't matter and I just let loose on him. Screamed at him. I wasn't really screaming loud, but I was talking really, really fucking mean. I couldn't help it. I'd been stressed out about having him over all week. I'm not really supposed to have guests that stay for several days in my building, especially ones like him that are just rude noise-makers with no regard for the peace and quiet of the neighbors. He's come around a few times when I wasn't home, dressed like a thirteen-year-old punk rocker on crack who smells like he's been rolling in a pig pen for a week with dirtbag buddies that have names like "Cannibal" and "Ugly" and loitered in the lobby waiting for me to return, talking about smoking pot just a few short feet away from my manager's fucking apartment, as if it weren't against the law. He's almost gotten me evicted twice. I had absolutely no patience whatsoever left for him. None.

He tries to explain that the big thud was only because he was trying to make sure he didn't kick over my beer, interrupting me. I keep telling him to shut the fuck up and actually listen to the words that were coming out of my mouth. He keeps interrupting me. Finally, he says "I don't want to be a burden to you. Look, I've got a friend who lives five miles from here. I'll go stay with him." I tell him he's welcome to stay as long as he's respectful and leaves when I have to. He gives me the same bullshit about his medication, says he doesn't want to be a burden again and walks out the door.

Good fucking riddance, you goddamm brat.

The other night, I was talking with my step-mom about all this. She's had her share of his freeloading bullshit and more, as I explained in my last post about him bumming around her house just drinking and being a lazy slob and expecting it like it was his due or something. She said he wrote her some letter asking her why she can't just be his friend and why she always has to give him such a hard time. Well, first of all, you stupid shit, she's your mother, not your friend, and parents shouldn't feel any obligation to support their grown children who are making bad, dumb choices while taking advantage of them. Second, you don't mean "why can't you be my friend?" You mean "why can't you just let me do whatever I want whenever I want to no matter how much of a pain in the ass I'm being without giving me shit for it?"

Last night, it got worse. My aunt called to let me know that J. had called her to tell her he was fine and that he had a place to stay (oh, and did I tell you? This is after he fed her a load of rubbish about having to sleep in bushes and shit all the time and giving her whopping, lying-ass sob stories about poor widdle J.'s struggle to survive as if none of his problems had anything to do with his own behavior. The thing is, she wasn't around for a lot of his antics while we were growing up. She spent most of her life in New York, three thousand miles away. She believed him. After I called to tell her what had happened Wednesday night, she was genuinely worried about him. I told her not to be, that he'd figure something out. He always does. It's how he's made it to his age without barely ever having a place of his own to be responsible for). Well, that much was nice of him, but then he calls me to say he's sorry. The thing with J. is that "sorry" isn't something he genuinely means. It's something he thinks he can just say after being an asshole and that all should be forgiven because of it, no matter what he's done. If I could count the number of times he's blurted "I said I was sorry!" when I've been upset with him, as if that one fucking word just gives him some tabula rasa...jeebus. It makes me SICK. I try to tell him it's not that I don't love him or care what happens to him, it's that I can't trust him and that he's going to have to work long and hard to earn back that trust. Then he says - and this is the absolute kicker. My gawd, my jaw nearly became unhinged it dropped open so wide - he actually says the following words to me:

"I have never stolen from you."

I couldn't believe it. Could. Not. Believe. Those. Words. Left. His. Fucking. Mouth. That's like a German saying "we never invaded Poland." Then, the worst part of all, when I call him on it? He just says "I can't talk to you, Emily" and hangs up the phone. I guess that's an easy thing to do when you don't have to face someone in person or deal with honest criticism when you've hurt, betrayed or taken advantage of them, the gutless little wimp. Go ahead. Just hang up the phone. Run away from what you've put people through and get back to your beer and dope. Shitstain. Like I said, good riddance until you grow the fuck up.

Self-defense blogging

Not sure I've ever done one of these, unlike some others. Let's see if we can simplify this to its essentials:

1) Scrotes take exception to guy turning someone in for drinking on the job,

2) Scrotes break into guy's home,

3) Scrotes beat the crap out of the guy to the tune of black eye, bruises, a bite wound, and lumps on the head,

4) Guy pulls gun and shoots one of them (apparently during the assault),

5) Cops arrest the two still-living scrotes for burglary and assault,

6) Guy is arrested for murder

Never trust the cops in a city named for ugly socks

HAHAHAHA!

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Watch the whole thing.

This explains a lot

The workings of the California state legislature have long been a mystery to sentient beings, especially the perennially weird budget process. The mystery may have been solved (registration probably required):

Wine helps budget optimism flow
Leaders agree there's progress after Assembly speaker shares 2 bottles.
By Judy Lin - Bee Capitol Bureau
Published 12:00 am PDT Thursday, July 19, 2007

When Californians look back on what eased this year's budget negotiations, the unsung hero might be a pair of distinguished Napa Valley reds.

Although no deal was struck Wednesday, the 3-week-old state budget impasse appeared to have softened during a 24-hour period in which Assembly Speaker Fabian Núñez shared two bottles of fine wine -- a 2002 Joseph Phelps Insignia declared by Wine Spectator as Wine of the Year and a 2003 red wine from Quintessa Estate.

"The wine helped," Senate Republican leader Dick Ackerman said Wednesday after taking an impromptu stroll with Assembly leaders outside the Capitol. "He has good wine."

[...]

Optimism ran so high, it triggered rumors of a possible weekend vote.

Optimism will run even higher when they break out the hard liquor.

Best part of the story is the accompanying picture. I probably shouldn't do this but since the Bee requires registration, I'm reproducing the picture and caption below the fold:

Assembly Speaker Fabian Nuñéz, left, and Republican leader Mike Villines take a stroll Wednesday in the midst of budget negotiations, which had been in a three-week impasse. "We're making considerable progress," said Nuñéz, who on Tuesday helped move the talks along by sharing a couple of bottles of Napa Valley wine.

Mark your calendars

It's going to be a gala event.

[Lance] Gilman has invited the public to attend the Mustang Ranch's grand reopening on Saturday.

Bring the whole family.

Amusing side note: I heard this on the radio and when I got to the office I immediately had to search up a story to blog. On the Yahoo search page, the following showed up:

SPONSOR RESULTS

Mustang Ranch Find Bargain Prices On Mustang ranch.
www.BizRate.com

Mustang Ranch Millions of Products from Thousands of Stores All in One Place.
www.Dealtime.com/homefurnishing

I'm not in the market for a Mustang Ranch but it amused me.

Rumours

Well, I don't really see it happening but it sure beats the Rosie O'Dullard rumor.

CBS In Talks With Drew Carey For 'Price Is Right' Gig

LOS ANGELES, Calif. (July 18, 2007) -- A top executive for CBS says the company is negotiating with comedian Drew Carey to host "The Price is Right," but is still considering other candidates to succeed Bob Barker.

CBS Entertainment President Nina Tassler says hopefully they'll make a decision soon.

She says they are in talks with Carey but that it would be, quote "stupid for us not to be in talks with Drew."

I guess it would be quote "stupid".

Bring Me The Head of Gary Bettman

This video is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen:

Seriously, how in the world is this guy still heading the NHL? I joked with the 'Fly last Friday that he's pretty much the Hitler of sports - not in the fascist dictator master race-seeking sense (considering Bettman's Jewish, that would be kind of weird) but in the sense that you can't really find anyone who doesn't hate his guts and when you do, you kind of write them off as crazy or stupid or both.

Contest

The first person to itemize all the stupid in this article will win a prize. Here's a start:

"Of course, these are very gross oversimplifications," said Keysar. "Even in America, you can find collectivist societies. For example, working class people tend to be much more collective."

Ohhhh-kaaaaayyyyy. What's the point of conducting a study only to draw conclusions that are "gross oversimplifications"? Can't you just skip the study and make those anyway?

Some chuckles while we wait for the asteroid

I had never heard them before.

"It's good to be alive in Colma"

"The city that waits for 'the city that waits to die' to die"

Reference, and thanks to Andrea for providing the catalyst.

Armageddon II

Oh yeah. Definitely the end times.

I have just come across the word "furvert" twice. Here and here.

Yeah, that asteroid can't come quick enough.

A Pre-Friday Sibling Fuck Off Rant

Because I'm at the end of my wits and I need to get it out.

It's long, personal, and filled with f-bombs.

My younger brother is what we are politely expected to call "special" these days. He's not full-blown Special Olympics "special," but he's incredibly immature and cluelessly selfish for his age. The kid has driven me nuts forever, but now I am seriously at the end of my patience with him. He has exhausted every ounce of good will I can spare and spent any and all sense of obligation I have towards him as family.

Listen to me. Calling him "kid." He's 32 fucking years old.

I know things have been rough for him. My mother drank a lot when she was pregnant. He was born with one of the worst types of cleft palates a baby can have. He spent his entire childhood undergoing a series of surgeries to help correct it, many of them painful. One of them required he have his jaw wired shut for weeks and left him unable to walk, since he had bone removed from his hip to be put in the roof of his mouth to cover a gaping hole. He had to live through all of this, like the rest of us, while enduring horrific abuse from both my mother and step-mother. My step-mother was particularly cruel to both him and me. She didn't like us. She didn't like kids. She didn't want us and pretty much blamed us for everything she couldn't have in life, being an exceptionally materialistic and class-concious snob (she once told my step-sister when we moved to Germany and went to school on an American army base that she should try to only hang out with the kids of officers because they were "better." Whatever. At least she's mellowed with age).

But you know what? I had to live through most of that shit, too. I have been beaten - beaten so badly I have fucking EPILEPSY from the head trauma - smacked around, neglected, locked in a dark closet when drinking was more important to mommy than child-rearing, and left starving when she forgot to feed us after the bottle was emptied. My poor, dear half-sister used to raid mommy's purse after she passed out just to get money so she could go to Dunkin' Doughnuts to get us something to eat so we wouldn't starve to death (what did she know about nutrition? She was eleven years old. All she knew was that she and her kid siblings had groaning bellies and something needed to be done). She did this knowing god damn well that mommy was going to beat the shit out of her when she came out of her stupor for taking her money. But it was all she could do.

But I have NEVER EVER used any of this as an excuse to misbehave or not take responsibility for myself or my actions and their consequences. I have always worked for what I have, sometimes to the point of a near-breakdown from exhaustion and I'm sick to fucking death of this "kid" thinking he shouldn't have to do the same goddamm thing.

He's basically spent his entire adult life (and I use the word "adult" loosely in his case) living off the good and kind graces of other people until his complete and utter selfish rudeness ailienates someone enough to burn bridges. He doesn't have a job, and never has outside of rare construction work. He lives off of benefits from the state. He's lazy and demanding and irresponsible. He's covered in tattoos, which he apparently has money for, but shows up at my house expecting me to feed him, wash his clothes, and give him a place to crash when he's got nowhere else to go.

A few weekends ago, he came over and his clothes smelled so bad, I had to sit on the opposite side of the room just to keep from getting sick and eventually had to ask him to leave. I had to wash the slip cover on my couch after he did because his stench had permeated into it. When I asked him why he didn't change his clothes before coming over, he explained to me that it was because the ones he had on were the only things he owned. He didn't have a place to keep his clothes since he's crashing under the dining room table of somebody he knows in San Pedro.

Yet he always has money for pot, for beer, for fun, for tattoos.

A family friend of ours that owns a bunch of apartment complexes once rented him a place. He and his friends trashed it so bad that con-fucking-struction was required to make it habitable again after he was finally kicked out. We're talking gaping holes in walls, torn up carpets, things like that. He had no respect for the fact that this was a kind, longtime family friend that he did this to. He gave no regard to her helpfully charging him less so he could afford to live there. He just junked her property, moved on to the next person foolish enough to offer him help and will even get upset and defensive if you bring the subject up.

And he's stupid. But he's the worst kind of stupid - he's that know-it-all teenager stupid. The awful part about it is that he's so stupid, he thinks he can lay a bunch of bullshit lies on everyone else and that they're so stupid, they'll believe him. And then he'll get mad at you when you don't. He once tried to defraud an ATM - I can't remember what he did exactly, but he was dumb enough to think he could get away with it. I get a call from some guy he knows one morning telling me J. is in jail. When he got out, the boloney story he tried to feed me about his proclaimed innocence was such a ridiculously unbelievable lie, if I hadn't heard him tell it over the phone, I would have decked him were he standing in front of me.

Here's a little example: one night, when my parents still lived in L.A., I had the family over for dinner. After they left, J. hung around and we had a few drinks together. I let him stay the night because he didn't have anywhere in the near area he could go to otherwise. I was tired, so I went to bed early and left him in the living room to drink and watch TV. When I woke up in the morning, there was an enormous pile of vomit in my kitchen sink. I told him to clean it up. You know what he says?

"I didn't do it. I'm not cleaning it up."

I ask him who else possibly could have. There were only the two of us there last night, and I was relatively sober - certainly nowhere near vomit-and-black-out-drunk - when I went to bed, so I know it wasn't me.

"I didn't do it," he keeps insisting. He shouldn't have to clean it up. It's not his mess. He outright refused.

"So, J., what you're telling me is that last night, while we were sleeping, somebody broke into my apartment without rousing either one of us, puked up in my sink what suspiciously looks like a slightly chewed up version of exactly the same thing I fed you for dinner last night and left without taking anything of value?"

Pause.

"Yes."

It wasn't until I told him that he was no longer welcome in my home because of this that he admitted that he did it, but do you know what? He expected me to be grateful that he at least barfed in the sink and not all over the couch. He expected me to thank him for this.

He's a compulsive liar and thief. So compulsive, in fact, that when we were growing up, if he stole money from me, I would be the one who was punished because I left money laying around where J. could find it and I knew damn well he was going to steal it if I did something like that.

He's unbelievably selfish and gets upset when you call him on it. We have a longtime family friend that often had us as guests at holiday gatherings. She makes this awesome cheese and cauliflower dish that's a favorite of everybody's. Pass it to J., he'll basically wop the entire bowl onto his plate without any thought to the fact that other people might want to eat some too. He'll constantly take the last of something without offering or asking anyone else if they'd like some before he does. Sharing and the needs and wishes of others is not something that he has ever taken the time to compute. It's all about HIM. What HE wants. And at the exact moment his desire so urges.

He was once hanging out at my house one Saturday afternoon. I had to leave to run an errand. When I came back, he had popped my copy of Attack of the Clones in the DVD player. I told him I didn't like that movie - HATED it, infact - and could we please maybe pick another movie that the both of us might enjoy. He went apeshit. "Well, I haven't seen this movie in a long time." As if that made him fucking entitiled to force me to watch something in my own home that I didn't like or something. The last time he came over, I was watching a baseball game and he just grabbed the remote and changed the channel because HE doesn't like baseball. Well, fuck you, kid. I do. And it's my goddamm house. No respect. No consideration what-so-fucking-ever.

When he was three years old, he stabbed me in the chest with a pair of scissors on my sixth birthday because I was playing with a set of markers that I had received as a gift and I refused to let him just grab away my new toys until I'd had the chance to at least take them out of the box and write my fucking name with one of them. HE wanted them and that is all that mattered, so I think I'll stab my sister for not handing over HER birthday present the very second I want it. He was three fucking years old when he did this.

When he was a teen-ager, he burned down the kindergarten portion of the elementary school across the street from our house. It's not like he ever went to school there, that he harbored bad memories or ill will against the place. He just felt like burning something down. He was never formally punished for it because there wasn't any proof it was him, but it's one of those things where that doesn't matter. Like O.J. Simpson, you just knew that he did it. You didn't need proof.

After he finished school - two years too late, after getting kicked out of regular high school and being sent to whatever the modern, touchy-feewy-let's-not-dare-huwt-dere-self-estweem word for fucking reform school is - he loafed around my parents' house, didn't get a job, didn't help with any chores or otherwise earn his keep in thanks for being allowed to stay after his expiration date when parents should be resonably allowed to expect their fledglings to fly the coop so they can have their lives back for themselves. During that time, my father helped him open a checking account so he could learn to be responsible with money. He bounced checks in every store in town that took them, no matter how many shouting matches my father would have with him trying to explain that if you don't have money in your account, you cannot write a fucking check.

He eventually wore out my father's patience. One night, after another fight about Lord-knows-what J. did this time, he was kicked out of the house for good. Don't come back. Not to live, and not to visit, at least until the anger wears off. My father did this knowing damn well he was putting his only son - the son he'd cared for as a sickly baby an inch from death, the son he carried up the stairs when he couldn't walk after surgery, the son he fed through a tube when he couldn't chew or open his mouth - out on the street with nowhere to go. That is how infuriating he can be. That is what he can drive a person to do. I know it broke my father's heart. It was one of the hardest things he's ever done, and we're talking about a veteran of a goddamm war here.

My parents still have him come out a couple of times a year to their ranch in Colorado to stay for a few weeks. He used to be really good at helping out. It's a ranch. There's a lot of work to be done and I know I always feel obliged to do my share when they are kind enough to have me as a guest, especially considering they've usually footed the bill for my plane ticket. Well, not anymore. Now, when he visits, he claims he can't help out because his back hurts. He just wants to sleep and sit around and drink beer and watch TV. And what does J. think when, to his surprise, they aren't really eager to have him visit as often anymore? That it's unfair and our parents are being cruel.

That's kind of what brought this rant on. He was expecting them to fly him out to Colorado last weekend. Well, they've only got one pair of free tickets left to them and with big sister preparing to give birth here in L.A. in the next couple of weeks, they decided to save them for coming to see the new grandkid. How selfish of them, eh?

Anyway, as he was planning on freeloading off of my parents for the rest of July, last Saturday, he shows up at my kindly but impoverished aunt's house - completely unnanounced and uninvited - and tells her that he spent the rent money he would have given whoever his latest victim is, since he was expecting to be in Colorado and now he has nowhere to stay. When she called and told me this, I was furious and outright refused to take him myself. No fucking way. He smells bad, I can't afford to feed him, I can't tolerate his selfish, obnoxious ways. No. He can go to a fucking homeless shelter for all I care. I'm done trying to help. Finished. NO MORE. Auntie is simply just too generous and caring a person to turn him away. She would rather inconvenience herself than leave him to the streets. He knew this. It's why he turned up at her house and not mine.

Bastard. Selfish fucking bastard.

So, after I calmed down a bit, courtesy of Coronas and limes, I called back Auntie and told her if she took him for the first half of the week, I'll take him for the rest. I just couldn't make her take the responsibility all on her own. It's not fair to her. She barely has enough money to support herself, let alone a free-loading, lazy jackass. I don't either, so the kid's going to get some fucking rules when he arrives tomorrow night and he's going to be put to work. There's no goddamm way he's staying without doing his part. I'm through putting up with it. DONE. Not only that, I'm kicking him out during the day while I'm at work. If I didn't, I know I would come back to find half of my belongings irreparably broken or outright destroyed, my phone bill run up in the hundreds of dollars and probably an eviction notice taped to my door. And if I got angry about any of it, he'd get defensive and think I was being unreasonable.

I'm sick of the excuses. Sick of his lying. His stealing. His expecting the world on a platter in thanks for sitting on his lazy ass and getting drunk. The world doesn't owe him a living and you know what? Neither do I. The kid's got until Sunday morning and then he's gone. I know this sounds mean. I know he's my brother. I know families are supposed to help each other, but this kid has spent thirty years wearing me out. I don't care where he goes after that. I just plain don't care, as long as it's not anywhere near me.

That really makes me sad. This is my little brother I'm talking about, the kid that lived through the worst moments of my life with me. But I'm all out of compassion and tolerance. I just can't spare it anymore, if only for my own sanity.

This just made my whole week

Took a few minutes to catch up on some reading material and came across this comment about the "Live Earth" concerts:

...more Americans watched Peru and Argentina play soccer on Spanish-language Univision.

HAHAHAHAHA!

GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAALLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL!

oh. my. god.

This may be the end times. Armageddon is upon us and, given my non-religious life for lo these many years, I am totally fucked.

Several former TV stars will participate in a new reality show in which they will perform the job they pretended to do on their former shows.

Back to the Grind, which will debut next month in the US, will have WKRP in Cincinnati's Loni Anderson working in a radio station, Hanging with Mr. Cooper's Mark Curry coaching a high school basketball team, and The Jeffersons' Sherman Hemsley working in the dry-cleaning business.

Other star who have signed up for the show include Night Court's Harry Anderson, CHiPs' Erik Estrada, Good Times' Jimmie Walker, and St. Elsewhere's Ed Begley, Jr.

Well, this story is from June, so that "next month" is this week. I just heard about it this evening.

Now, I seem to recall reading that Erik Estrada took actual police training for some other "reality" show. And Loni Anderson working at a radio station seems safe enough.

But didn't Ed Begley play a surgeon, for christ's sake?

Wow

Barbara Stanwyck

Hard to believe she'd be 100. One of the stunning beauties of Hollywood. And she just got better with age. She put lie to the notion that women don't age gracefully.

Take a lesson, young pupettes.

A white sport coat and a pink crustacean

Yes, once again it's Rock 'n' Roll Trivia time. That last C/W quiz got nailed pretty fast so I though I'd switch back to the rocker stuff. This time it's a Parrothead Edition, as a thanks to the ever mindful KG, who very kindly linked to my cowbell ignorance, and as a special thanks to my good friend and confidante, the lovely Julie, who reveres Jimmy Buffett above all else except John Denver, and who introduced me to a Jimmy Buffett restaurant some time back. I don't recall the name of the restaurant, probably something like "Cheeseburger in Paradise"; I checked and it seems to have gone out of business since the lovely Julie moved to Texas. Or perhaps that's why she moved to Texas. No matter, I lost my train of thought anyway.

Oh yeah, I was inspired by something on my new collection that had nothing at all to do with Jimmy Buffett, but oddly made me think of the title of this post. That will be the focus of a future C/W trivia post. In any case, for these two true Parrotheads, I give you my amateurish version of a Parrothead trivia quiz. I like the fellow well enough though I'm most certainly not a professional Parrothead. In fact, I would appreciate it if the lovely Julie and/or the lovely KG could fill me in on the derivation of the word "Parrothead". Because, while I like his stuff well enough, I don't really get it.

Nor do I get this one. Has anyone actually heard this? It sounds pretty amusing and I definitely have to look it up.

Anyway, without further adieu, in no particular order, I give you some gimmes, perhaps some toughies:

1) Your voice sounds so wonderful but your face don't look too clear. So, what should we do?

2) If I remember being buck-toothed and skinny, what do I wish?

3) The daiquiri's too what?

4) About what have I seen more than I can recall (name all three)

5) Maybe suave Errol Flynn or who?

6) What will the blender render?

7) When can we go hiking?

8) Read dozens of books about what? And learned what from them?

9) What am I, 200 years too late?

10) I'm just glad that what?

11) What are over my shoulder?

11) What's filled up for me and you?

12) To whom did I write fan letters?

13) [And to round out the Baker's Dozen] Who was everyone's Bwana?

Country/Western Trivia (Guy Mitchell Edition)

Guy who? That's my response too, but he did some great stuff that seems, at least to me and, I suspect, to other folks, to be associated with other, more well know, singers. Well, even if you don't know the name, you know the songs.

Background: The Sainted Bride and I went to see Daughter Number Two yesterday. She has been working with her local community theater and is trying out for a role in "Pirates of Penzance" soon. In the meantime, the community theater had a fund raiser presentation of "Tommy". I've never seen it; I've heard some, not all, of the music from it and really had no idea of the plot, if any. Now I do. Poor little bastard. I actually thought I had heard all the music from it but apparently not.

This was a concert version of the Broadway adaptation. It was okay but not spectacular, but the people in it seemed to have fun and that's what counts. Gotta say, though, it's really hard to figure out what's going on. I suppose I should rent the movie to figure it out sometime.

The drummer actually got injured during the first act. I really hope it was toward the end of the first act. During the intermission, DNT introduced us to him, but there was no ritual shaking of hands because he had cut his right hand on the cowbell. He said the obligatory "More cowbell!" before going backstage again. Later, I asked DNT the derivation of the expression. I really don't feel too bad about that. I've heard and bantered several references to it, but in reality, SNL pretty much sucked after the second cast and I've never liked Will Farrell anyway. So it's all good. I guess.

Anyway, we stayed overnight with DNT. This morning we went to Costco and picked her up some stuff. Picked up some stuff for me too. Also picked up a new 50s CD set. I had been thinking about doing another 50s R'n'R trivia set, but (a) I realized that I haven't done any C/W for a while, and (b) Guy Mitchell ROCKS. So to speak. And there were a couple on this collection.

Anyhoo, here we go with some Guy Mitchell. Getting back to that tried and true formula of two gimmes and and a toughie:

1) I never felt more like crying all night, so what am I doing?

2) Number one was when you left, number two was when you came back. What do I have?

And the toughie:

3) My skies have all turned to gray now and I just walk the soles off of my shoes. Where am I?

Compulsion

Strangely, I feel compelled to resurrect this picture:

Oddly enough, I had breakfast at IHOP this morning.

The Friday Fuck Off Thread

Ugh. They're everywhere. Print, electronic, television. Every corner of the media. The thing is, I can't remember the last time I've seen so much fuss over something that hardly anyone is talking about. Even people that didn't want to talk about Skanky McHotel at the height of the oversaturation talked about her long enough to at least tell you they didn't want to talk about her. This morning, even our local dink carried the headline "THEY'RE IN OUR GALAXY NOW."

Don't get me wrong - this fuck off is not directed at David and Victoria Beckham* personally. Welcome to L.A. I hope you guys like it here. It's actually directed at celebrities who pay publicists to work overtime to have themselves splattered all over every magazine, television show, newspaper, gossip site, and bus billboard and then try to play it off like it's all some organic buzz machine that's beyond their control. Because this whole "the Becks have arrived in L.A." furor is very, very orchestrated. It damn sure ain't public demand putting it out there. I know I'm not exactly the Liz Smith of Los Angeles, with my finger on the pulse of every bit of up-to-the-minute chatter, but I do pay attention enough to know that the media coverage of those two moving here is definitely not porportional to the amount of interest that most of the residents of this city actually have. Thousands of people move here every week from all over the world without having to take out an advertisement about it - and that's exactly what all this shit is - one big giant ad for a potential reality TV show and a sports team**.

Please, we're not that stupid. We know this is deliberate. For celebrities who try and act like it's not and that you're being hounded by an adoring public who just won't leave you alone - FUCK OFF.

*Victoria, Posh, Mrs. Becks, whatever you like to go by, they're called "smiles." We actually kind of like them here. Try one some time.

**David, one of the really great things about American soccer is that the guys who play it don't do it for the huge money or the fame. They do it because they love the game. It's one of the last professional sports you can actually say that about in this country. Please don't ruin that.

PS - though I do want to add a very special kudos to the Beckhams for at least having the class to keep their children's privacy under wraps instead of treating them like fashion accessories and/or marketable commodities the way a lot of other celebrities do.

Your turn.

HAHAHAHA!

That is all.

Interesting

I haven't seen this one before. So I stole it. My answers, probably slightly twisted, in the extended entry.

1. Happen ::

2. Terribly ::

3. History ::

4. Master ::

5. Petrified ::

6. Moan ::

7. Attack ::

8. Picture ::

9. Students ::

10. Potter ::

1. Happen :: 'ed one night

2. Terribly :: Herbst

3. History :: Channel

4. Master :: and commander

5. Petrified :: forest

6. Moan :: a lisa

7. Attack :: of the killer tomatoes

8. Picture :: perfect

9. Students :: little farts

10. Potter :: stewart

Wahoo

Excellent news! And Cholo can bite me too.

Yeah yeah yeah, it's early but I may not be available to do it tomorrow so CANCER, ESPECIALLY IN CHILDREN, CAN FUCK THE FUCKING FUCKITY FUCK OFF.

Oh my God

Charles Lane died.

This week.

Not like, 30-40 years ago.

Wow. Good for him. Amusing fellow, I always liked him. Rock on, 102-year-old dude.

Power

I feel so powerful right now.

Long-winded setup, but this week I had to put together three meetings (T,W,Th) with a particular fellow, and several other important folk, who would only be available those days. I chose 4:00, as that seemed appropriate. I got the meeting set up in a certain conference room with an overhead projector (necessity) for the three days. I neglected to check on the availability of the conference room.

After sending out the meeting announcement, I got a response from the object of our affection and undying gratitude (the aforementioned particular fellow) asking to reschedule for 3:30 because he had another commitment. Well, I tend to get to work about 5:00 or so and was thrilled to move it up.

Bigger thrill: my selected conference room, I learned, was available today until 4:00 but booked after. "Wow, even better" I thought, because this would ensure that the meeting could not turn into an extra-innings endurathon. This is because the one that booked the room at 4:00 is a big, high, corporate mucky-muck, and we would be sure to get kicked out on time (as you know, I hate meetings, even those I organize myself).

Well, we had the meeting today. It went overtime. But the big, high, corporate mucky-muck found a different room.

I feel so powerful right now, even four beers in. BAHAHAHAHA!

Quote of the day

Yeah, I should do these more often. From BobG:

Hot girls in leather and packing guns? Why is this a problem?

Indeed.

And apparently, Bill O'Reilly is even loopier than I had been previously led to believe.

Bitch

Fucking unbelievable. I want this bitch flogged, and not just for offending my libertarian sensibilities. I would wish a vile, horrible, painful death on her, but that would be wrong. Or so I hear.

Custody bill is lawmaker's pet issue
JASON STEIN
608-252-6129
jstein@madison.com

A Wisconsin legislator wants state law to govern how divorced couples handle custody disputes -- over their pets.

The proposal by Rep. Sheryl Albers, R-Reedsburg, is being co-sponsored by only one other lawmaker. After sniffing around the bill's provisions, several local divorce attorneys were trying to decide whether to growl or wag their tails.

[...]

Albers hasn't said much about why she introduced the bill, but members of a McFarland family said that Albers has personal reasons -- a messy divorce that involved Albers' husband and a Labrador retriever mix named Sammi. Albers also pushed another bill related to that divorce.

[...]

In 2003, Symons and Anders divorce was finalized. The divorce included wrangling over who would have to care for and pay for their dog Sammi, short for Samantha. The dispute arose, she said, because neither she nor Anders, who married Albers this year, wanted the aging dog, but their three children did. Sammi died in February at 16.

[...]

As part of the divorce, Dane County Circuit Judge Sarah O'Brien ordered that Sammi go with the children as they split time between Symons' and Anders' residences, court records show. Albers wasn't happy with the judge's decision and told the children she didn't like the long, messy hair shed by the dog, Symons and her daughter, Megan Anders, said.

In a statement, Albers responded, "Individuals who are parental alienators or engage in controlling behavior of spouses or children sometimes use family pets to exercise control. That is inappropriate."

Via Bitter and Boots and Sabers.

I saw this at Bitter's earlier today, and assumed that they were fighting over who gets the dog, not who gets stuck with the dog. Now, if it weren't wrong, I would want both parties to that divorce dead. And for that reason, I will not shout the words DIE BITCH DIE.

Wow

I guess they took our complaints seriously.

China's corrupt former food and drug chief executed
by Dan Martin

BEIJING (AFP) - China executed the former chief of its food and drug watchdog on Tuesday, following a sensational downfall that saw him become a symbol of the ruling Communist Party's struggle against corruption.

That's what happens when you mess up the cash flow.

Quote of the day

From Jonah Goldberg:

Indeed, one could say that Live Earth is proof that global warming has jumped the shark, except for the fact that the phrase "jumped the shark" has jumped the shark.

There's this one too:

The concerts seemed like Baptist hoedowns of yore, except now Gore is the Billy Sunday for the baby boomer booboisie.

Giggle.

That part about Madonna exhorting her little "mother-[bleepers]" to jump up and down reminds me of a Beetle Bailey cartoon from many years ago.

Beetle was lounging under a tree until the sergeant walked by, then jumped up and started jumping up and down. Sarge says "keep up the good work." Then in the last panel, Beetle's back under the tree and says "The army doesn't care what you do as long as you do it vigorously."

Cullen and Joel will understand

I'm sure they can relate.

Couric admits she slapped CBS editor

Well, what self-respecting journalist hasn't slapped an editor?

Oh, and she doesn't like certain words.

Katie Couric doesn't like "sputum." When a CBS Evening News editor inserted that word into the anchor's script, several anonymous sources tell New York magazine that Couric slapped his arm "over and over and over again."

Couric, once known as the chipper host of NBC's Today Show, admits losing her cool. “I sort of slapped him around,” Couric tells the magazine. “I got mad at him and said, ‘You can’t do this to me. You have to tell me when you’re going to use a word like that.’ I was aggravated, there’s no question about that.”

So I guess that means we have to the list: tugging on Superman's cape...

Congratulations are in order

Five years. Via Physics Geek.

Send monkeys. Lots of monkeys. Frank loves him some monkeys.

Also he married above his station. Will someone please give her the number of a good rehab clinic?

"Intellectual Valet"?

That's a new one.

Come on, baby...

Intellectualize for me...

Hypocrites

On Saturday, the local pussy grunge station (excuse me, um...adult contemporary station. Call it what you want, it still sucks) was coming! to! US! LIVE! from the Live Dirt (whatever) concert in London. I heard one interview - don't have a clue who the performer was, probably still wouldn't have even if I caught his name - where a guy from one of the acts was talking about how they just got back from filming a bunch of videos in Brazil and, when asked if he had anything to say to the audience, he replied "Yeah! Buy our new CD!" Then he proceeded to march on stage and begin lecturing the audience about the perils of consumption.

These people practically satirize themselves. I don't know which person I'd detest more - the one that was so cluelessly stupid that the hypocrisy never occured to him or the one that thinks he's above the label since he's a Big Important Rock Star not obliged to make the same sacrifices as he is "raising awareness." Cheers to Roger Daltrey:

"Bollocks to that! The last thing the planet needs is a rock concert. I can't believe it. Let's burn even more fuel!

"We have problems with global warming, but the questions and the answers are so huge I don't know what a rock concert's ever going to do to help.

"Everybody on this planet at the moment, unless they are living in the deepest rainforest in Brazil, knows about climate change.

"Why is Gore actually organising them? To make us aware of the greenhouse effect? Everybody's known about that problem for years. We are all fucking conscious of global warming."

Amen. Sort of.

Amusing stuff (updated)

So Daughter Number One called today. Seems that while she and her future ball-and-chain were taking her future-in-laws to the airport in Burbank, they stopped in at a Kwik-E-Mart.

Of all the potential marketing gimmicks in the world today, this one is actually pretty amusing. And it turns out that there is a Kwik-E-Mart near my work. Plan on seeing pics soon (assuming I can get away for a lunch - I had two actual lunches last week, which is my quota for the typical month).

Anyway, DNO said she didn't get a Squishee (the flavors all looked disgusting) but she did get a Buzz Cola and a pink donut. Me, I'm holding out for a Duff Beer, but we shall see what we shall see.

UPDATE: So it's only about five minutes from work, so I hopped in the car and toodled on over.

They were out of all of the Simpsons stuff except for the vile-looking pink donuts and some cookies. No Buzz Cola.

Also, as Emily notes in the comments, they don't sell Duff Beer. They are fascist pigs. DuffMan says, "die, fascist pigs!"

Heh heh heh

Okay, anybody else get this joke reference? Last night we were watching "Family Guy" on tape. FG has this odd running joke with some vaudeville guys with straw boaters and a piano, singing Tin Pan Alley-type songs with altered lyrics.

Last night, they had a brief gag with the tune of "Camptown Ladies" and these lyrics:

Fatty's got a little problem,
Dead girl, dead girl

I suspect that blew right past most of the audience (those that watched it several months ago while we taped it). Anybody else get the reference?

Rock 'n Roll Trivia (The Sainted Marilyn McCoo Edition) [Updated]

[Answers added]

So I took my normal ride today and considered what kinds of questions I would ask. Had a partial list ready to hammer into final form. But while I was at home, I happened to throw an album on my new toy (a turntable) and my mind was hijacked. Not that there's anything wrong with that.

Y'all know how I feel about The Goddess Patsy Cline.In the hierarchy of chanteuses that make me quiver, send shivers up and down my spine, and reduce me to a quavering blob of testosterone-laced protoplasm, she is at the top. Number Three on the list is The Sainted Gladys Knight (I'm sorry, my dear, darling, Sainted Gladys, you know I love you to Pips but alas, another takes the Number Two position). And that is The Sainted Marilyn McCoo.

Just for the record, there is one other lady who qualifies for the title Goddess, though it's not specifically for her singing; possibly she would, but I don't believe I've ever actually heard her sing. That would be The Goddess Laura Nyro, who qualifies as Goddess based on the incredible body of outstanding songs she has written (some of which are sampled below). I will dedicate an edition to The Goddess Laura Nyro sometime, but for tonight my heart belongs to The Sainted Marilyn.

UPDATE: Oh my goodness. Thornharp jogged my mind into realizing that I can actually hear bits of The Goddess Laura Nyro on Amazon. Oh my goodness. She is, indeed, a Goddess.

1) I lay awake and watched until when? [Nightfly: until the morning light]

2) The world's a nicer place where? [Spoiler: In my beautiful balloon]

3) Will there come a time when I grow tired of you? [Brian gets it with Never My Love]

4) If you can surrey (and really, who can't?) where are you going? [Thornharp gets Stone Soul Picnic]

5) Each time the doorbell rings, what do I do? [Spoiler: I still run]

6) Together let's do what? [Spoiler: Find love]

7) Four leaves on a clover, I'm just a bit what? [Spoiler: Just a bit of a shade hungover]

8) Where can we sing a song and sail along? [Spoiler: The silver sky; TH has right vehicle, wrong line]

9) I heard your number ringing and what happened? [Spoiler: I went cold inside]

10) Please don't tell my mother I'm what? [Spoiler: I'm a saloon and moonshine lover]

11) One less egg to fry and what do I do? [Angie gets all I do is cry]

12) In your voice I hear what? [Angie gets a choir of carousels]

13) I was the one who came running when? [Nightfly: when you were lonely]

14) Gonna do what to that devil? [Spoiler: Gonna lay that devil down]

15) Love runs deep like what? [Spoiler: Like a tunnel with a pendulum beat; no, I don't get that either]

16) Why couldn't I close my eyes? [Nightfly: because you were on my mind]

17) Suspended where? [Spoiler: Under the twilight canopy]

18) Where will we chase your dream? [Spoiler: Across the sky]

19) Don't let Daddy hear it. Why not? [Spoiler: He don't believe in the gin mill spirit]

20) If devotion rules my heart, I do what (or not)? [Spoiler: I take no bows]

Lucky Sevens

777 - that's the big jackpot. Well, actually, even bigger is 77777.

7th day of the 7th month of '07, he would have started his 77th year.

I detect a theme

This seems to be pr0n day at the 'Pints. So this might be appropriate:

Jewish Boy Porks Ham

Hey, could happen, the votes are running 80% in favor.

Talk about your giant, long peccadillos.

A challenge

People let's do it! Let's see if we can come up with all of the "70 different types of hardcore pornography" that Marriott allegedly offers to its customers! Xenu knows that if some anti-porn crusader (or crusadrix) can come with them, then certainly a crew that fills a Fuck Off thread each week should be able to!

Yes, you may use asterisks as necessary, if you feel so compelled.

No, I haven't been drinking. Yet.

The Friday Fuck Off Thread

To the lovely person staying in the No-Tell Motel that is unfortunately my back yard who has decided to set their alarm clock for 4 am every bloody day and then proceed to either sleep through it or ignore it because of whatever drunken/drug-ridden/unconscious state they may be in so that it wakes me up and keeps me up from that hour on, if I ever find you, I am going to choke you until you turn purple and keep squeezing until the very last second before the lack of oxygen to your barely functioning brain takes your life forever. And when I am finished, I will only hope that it left you at the very least mildly retarded for the rest of your presumably short days. Asshole. Other people live around here, too.

To the people who cannot comprehend that those fireworks they bought were for the 4th of July and not the weeks both before and after, loud bangs are unnerving enough in this part of town. I'm sure most of us could do without them for two straight weeks. Next year, please save your fireworks for the 4th and, on that day, use every stinking last one of them so that you haven't got any left to tempt you on the 5th or any day after until New Year's Eve. You have made me angry enough to have fantasies about shoving Roman candles inside of human body cavities and lighting a match to enjoy the show.

You people seriously need to FUCK OFF. Repeat after me: I am not the only fucking person in the universe.

Take it away, my friends. And have a great weekend.

Mitt Romney is a pornographer?

Who knew?

Romney Criticized for Hotel Pornography
By GLEN JOHNSON, Associated Press Writer
Thu Jul 5, 2:01 PMUPDATED 10 HOURS 4 MINUTES AGO

BOSTON - Republican presidential contender Mitt Romney, who rails against the "cesspool" of pornography, is being criticized by social conservatives who argue that he should have tried to halt hardcore hotel movie offerings during his near-decade on the Marriott board.

Two anti-pornography crusaders, as well as two conservative activists of the type Romney is courting, say the distribution of such graphic adult movies runs counter to the family image cultivated by Romney, the Marriotts and their shared Mormon faith.

Speaking of viloating tenets of the Mormon faith, you can get coffee and booze at Marriotts, too. I know, I've done it. Can't say I've ever actually gotten porn at one.

"Marriott is a major pornographer...

Who knew?

"... And even though he may have fought it, everyone on that board is a hypocrite for presenting themselves as family values when their hotels offer 70 different types of hardcore pornography," said Phil Burress, president of Citizens for Community Values, an anti-pornography group based on Ohio.

70 different types??? Bingley, why didn't you tell me? I could have change my reservation!

Tony Perkins, president of the Family Research Council, a leading conservative group in Washington, said: "They have to assume some responsibility. It's their hotels, it's their television sets."

Dude, get laid. Trust me, it will vastly improve your disposition.

During a recent Associated Press interview, Romney said he did not recall pornography coming up for discussion while he was on the Marriott board from 1992 to 2001.

I guess some things just go without saying.

Romney said his current concern is not about pornography per se, but children unwittingly stumbling upon it on the Internet or television.

"I am not pursuing an effort to try and stop adults from being able to acquire or see things that I find objectionable; that's their right. But I do vehemently oppose practices or business procedures that will allow kids to be exposed to obscenity," the former Massachusetts governor said.

Uh huh. Suck it, dude.

Pornography i