Category: etc.

We are discussing the resurgence of leggings.

HE: I think there should be arm leggings.
ME: Arm leggings?
HE: Yes.
ME: You realize what you just said?
HE: Yes. Arm leggings. They’d be like knit sweater arms you could wear with t-shirts. You know, arm-ings.
ME: How do you spell leggings?
HE: With two g’s in the middle.
ME: Okay. How do you spell arm-ings?
HE: With one m?
ME: No.
HE: With two m’s?
ME: No.
HE: With 3 m’s??

And this was my problem with the invention, the spelling.

A little story about Chloe and Alex:

Chloe made quite an impression in her favorite dress on her first date with Alex, the vegan.

Never mind the tiny scoops; it was her maraschino cleavage that made Alex fall for Chloe.

Chloe slaved over their first Thanksgiving together. When Alex stared at the table and said, “Uh, babe, I’m a vegan, but I still eat food,” and Chloe just said, “Don’t worry, hon! It’s tofurkey,” he knew right then it was over.

In the aftermath, when Alex was gone and her cheeseburger dress was missing, Chloe sat by the glow of the tv and comforted herself with an old childhood favorite.

I know I haven’t written anything about the final days of B*heme. It’s been 10 days — (well, it was when I first started writing this and now I don’t want to do the complicated math) — and I’m still processing it all. I will write about it, just not yet. I’m all over the map emotionally right now. I mean, honestly, I’m wiped. Whupped. Whipped. Whapped. Whopped. And whepped, really, most of all.

So let’s talk about something else.

How ’bout Ponce de Leon playing off the whole Fountain of Youth thing as a joke?

The whole thing was made up, a little prank. Seriously, like when I was searching, I was doing it all silly and cartoony, and I’d do a funny accent. I was just trying to liven things up for everyone. Like this one time I screamed that I had found it and everyone came over to see, and it just turned out to be a weird shaped rock with water coming out of it. And a few days after we all had drank from it and nothing happened, I was like, “Gotcha!”

This photo, taken by NASA, gives me chills. It’s just thrilling. Take a look. Wow.

(Click on it to enlarge any area.)

It’s magical. Our twinkling little world.

It’s a dictionary. It’s a thesaurus. It’s a cool new TOY!

Oooh. Another one.

Here are my phrases and, uhm, pomes (I refuse to call them poems — why insult poetry?) created shoving around little magnets from the Antonin Artaud (Hi, Theatre of Cruelty!) Magnetic Poetry Kit:

This pome is called “Changed” because that was the magnet closest to my pome cluster, so I took it. Guess that’s just how I roll, holmes.

Everything is copyright me, 2007, of course.

blood limbs reckoning
martyr consenting
life bursting sordid
electric skeleton

Cheery, no??

I think this is what I will read — if forced — at the inauguration of (*shiver*) President Hillary Clinton. Take that, Maya Schmaya Angelou. You can say “simply very simply, with hope, good morning” ALL YOU WANT, Peaches, but have you checked out my blood limbs reckoning, my life bursting sordid? Now THAT’S an inaugural pome, lady. Artaud would agree with me, I’m sure.

You know, forget what I said earlier about insulting poetry. Clearly, I didn’t know I was about to be gobsmacked by inspiration and brilliance.

Also, these are mine, copyright 2007:

inspiration blankets judgment …

This one turns out to be called “Laugh Absolute” — see reason above, ‘mkay, except I rilly swung out and used the closest two magnets. How many magnets did you use, Schmaya?

moral enchantment
simple judge looks last
broken theatre
questionable years

Wow. WOW. That is even better than my very best pome ever. It was called Silver Lake, written in 4th grade, but WITHOUT the assistance of Antonin Artaud poetry magnets.

It was about a silver lake.

I mean, if you want to be all literal about it and stuff.

So now I challenge you to take up the magnets, be gobsmacked by brilliance, and post pomes over on your blahhgs.

‘Sfun.

All right. I’m watching “Access Hollywood” right now. Don’t judge me. They’re promising a clip from “Sweeney Todd” with Johnny Depp singing.

So let’s wait a moment, shall we? Here it comes ….. waiting …. waiting …. drat! Okay. They’re going to commercial, playing a teeny clip BEFORE they show the actual clip.

And I have to say — in between sobs here — that it does not sound good. Oh, please sound different when you come back from commercial. Please sound like Len Cariou, mmkay?

All right. MB just looked at me and said, “I’m starting to get scared about Johnny Depp.”

Back from commercial. They introduce the scene. It’s a tiny bit from “Epiphany,” which — and I know it’s hard to tell from the title — is Sweeney’s turning point number. I have to say, the clip LOOKS amazing. That dark, sinister Burtonesque feel totally works here. We see Sweeney imagining himself accosting random, well-dressed gentlemen and demanding,

Alright! You sir, you sir, how about a shave?
Come and visit your good friend Sweeney.
You sir, you sir? Welcome to the grave.

I will have vengeance.
I will have salvation.

That first bit — through “welcome to the grave” is spoken, shouted. Sweeney has snapped, basically. He is gone. He was, oh, just a tad edgy before, but now, NOW there is NO HOPE. This song sets the rest of the show in motion, ramps everything up a giant notch. It just might be my favorite song of Sweeney’s. And I have to say, Depp gave me shivers with this — this tiny bit. I’m not surprised, though; I love Depp as an actor and that’s what he’s going to have to rely on as Sweeney because …. wellll .…

… the second bit “I will have vengeance; I will have salvation” is sung. The problem is the part of Sweeney is bass-baritone and I just don’t hear that coming from Depp. The little bit he sang here, those two lines, his voice was thin, more hissy-fit sounding than vengeance sounding. Not the voice I want to hear singing Sweeney, but pretty much the voice I expected to hear from Depp.

Still, it was a 10-second clip and it GOT ME. I was thrilled to be watching even this tiny bit. The room hushed; the blood pounded. So maybe Depp can’t really sing, but he CAN act.

And I remain undaunted in my wiggly anticipation.

Did Tracey survive the landslide DISASTER in tony little La Jolla yesterday? Were she or MB crushed in the rubble at the HORRIFIC scene? Most importantly, were any puppies that Tracey could potentially kidnap and call her own injured in the TRAGEDY??

Well, I am relieved to tell you MB is fine, there were no puppies injured or kidnappped (drat!) and I, too, am fine because, well, I don’t live anywhere near lahdipooh La Jolla. Actually, if I’m honest, ‘tho, I must say that all the stress from the horrifically disastrous tragedy caused me to eat 2 WHOLE CEREMONIAL DOUGHNUTS yesterday. One with sprinkles, to signify the random rubble, and another with coconut, to signify coconut.

You know, I blame my carbo-binge on the newscasters who kept insistently blaring at me all afternoon that this was a DISASTER. A TRAGEDY. THE MOST HORRIBLE THING EVER TO HIT SAN DIEGO. Never mind that all the wealthy homeowners in the area were warned of an imminent slide, told not to sleep in their homes Tues. night, and NONE of them complied.

One or two homes were lost. Several more damaged. The horror! The HORROR! Rich people were DISPLACED! Maybe they had to stay at the HYATT! I’m not sure, all I know is that I’m really stressed about it. I probably need to have another ceremonial doughnut. Maybe a chunky apple fritter, to signify the damaged lumpen earth.

Well, I’m trying to do my part, okay?

I will keep you updated on this rapidly changing disaster.

UPDATE: I AM SERIOUSLY THINKING ABOUT THAT APPLE FRITTER! WHERE IS GOD WHEN IT HURTS??

BUT: IT WOULD INVOLVE GOING OUT INTO THE LANDSLIDING WORLD AND BUYING ONE! ACKKKK!

ALSO: PEOPLE ARE BEING ALLOWED BACK INTO THEIR HOMES! IT’S TERRIBLE!

AND: ALL THE ANIMALS HAVE BEEN REUNITED WITH THEIR FAMILIES! NOOOO! I CAN’T EVEN LOOK ANYMORE!!

FINALLY: PACKS OF LAWYERS ARE DROOLING AND SNARLING AROUND THE GIANT HELLHOLE! SWEET JESUS, THESE PLAIN SIMPLE MEN!

Recipe? Here? Hahahaha. No, not here. Over at Jayne’s. She’s got a killer recipe for Roasted Garlic complete with close-up photos that make me ache with stinky delicious garlic longing.

Give it a try. Then invite me over.

I mean, ’tis the season to eat lots of garlic so no vun vill suuuck your bluuuuud, right?

I love these ….. from Carmen Louis Cicero, who has an exhibition called “Things that Happen in the Moonlight” at the June Kelly Gallery in New York City from October 4 – November 6, 2007.

Aren’t they moody and noir-y and fun? I love how I feel like I’m witnessing something subversive. It feels like it’s happening right now — like the pieces are moving, not still.

Truro Nights

Tracer of Lost Persons

The Escape

Stalled

Just what is this hunched-over figure in the hunched-over car doing in the shadows of the dead of night?? What is going ON?? Something good. Something baaad. I want to know! I think I need a feature-length film noir animation from this artist now, please.

Dude ….

Fire this goober, our new head coach …

… who’s taken a team that was 14-2 last year — the best record in the NFL — and lead them to a 1-3 start this season.

Mmkay, dude?

Then get down on your rickety ole knees and beg and plead and cajole this man to come back …. nnnnnnowww!

That is all.

Signed,

LaDainian Tomlinson

P.S. I have your mangy kitty. Do as I say or kitty gets punted.