Jan 31, 2011

hitting me where it hurts.

Oh my god, this is like Sophie's Choice


Pro: that pickle, that buttery bun,
that chicken.
Con: evil "christian" fundamentalist bigotry

Gay marriage:

Pro: Justice and righteousness
Con: Ice swans

thought for the day*

*happy bd, mdp!

Jan 30, 2011

How to have style (for the ladies) part deux

1. The minx: a wisp of sheer nylon around the crotch neck is always sexy.

2.The artistic type: don't be afraid to explore new, exciting media, like your hair.

3. The lady: always accentuate your best assets
4. The country cock lover: don't be afraid of pattern--on your cabinets, your jacket...your eyes.

5. The wife: Always maintain a bit of sex appeal, even when frying up eggs.

Jan 28, 2011

ten things pissing me off now

1. This cake mix which insists on asking for "125 grams" of butter. WTF? I'm an American, goddammit. I don't know what the hell a "gram" is.

2. The fact that Katrina and ineptitude might just end up killing me after all, 5 years after the fact (long story).

3. The cloud of toilet paper debris that keeps floating up to the surface after flushing. This new "green" tp just dissolves upon contact with water, and never quite flushes completely down. I just have to flush three times instead of one now. Totally green there, right?

4. Anything named Kardashian. (see # 3)

5. Why, thank you ma'am for letting me know all the gory details of your father in law's giant (alleged) "diet coke tumor."

6. The fact that I can only buy diet Pepsi at work and have to import my six pack of tumor makers from home. I hate to imagine what a diet Pepsi tumor would be like.

7. That I had to work yet another 12 hour day yesterday, only to be subjected to talk of diet coke tumors at the 12.5th hour of those 12 hours.

8. The fact that the rear door of my car won't unlock from the inside. The car is all of five few months old, and already there's a problem?
What if I were to hurtle off the side of a bridge into the river and my only way out was to swim to the back right hand seat to get out or something? huh? Huh?

9. People who pee all over the toilet seat (#4?)

10. The cold sore that appeared last night, taking the place of its recently departed sister (pink eye)...or is that a diet coke tumor?

Jan 25, 2011

He likes you!

The other day, checking cleaning out my junk mail, I find this lost little love note :

He Likes You!

Sheila84, M
Beaverton, Alabama
United States

Now, as flattered as I am, I just know it could never work. I could never handle Sheila84's white hot glamour.

Could you?

Jan 21, 2011

(old) looks I (rather) like

70s Gatsby-esque

Have loafers and white socks ever looked so sexy?

James Bond goes gay.
Neatness counts.

Sheesh, these two just need to make out already.

Jan 18, 2011

thought for the day

*shamelessly stolen from sam

Jan 17, 2011

three things on my table

The glasses I bought on a whim the other day. I haven't quite worn them out yet, but once. I'd hoped I'd look young YSL-ish, but, alas, I think it's more Allen Ginsberg.

Oranges, grapefruit and kumquats from my late aunt Evelyn's trees, I remember my cousins and I would pick them and gorge ourselves on them.
Now the house is dilapidated, lived in by my cousin, the crack addict. Ok, so one of the crack addicts.
My mother insisted we take some of the fruit languishing on the tree. No one's been picking it all year.
Crackheads don't care much for citrus, it seems. Go figure.

A 1920s silver toast holder. I saw it at an antique shop today and had to buy it. I've always wanted one...and a butler. It cost 5 dollars. The butler? well...

I Jeeves made toast this morning just so I could say I used it.
Anyway, it's already found its new life as my mail catcher.

thought for the day

Jan 16, 2011

overheard 6 pm

"That'll be one hundred and fourteen dollars and ninety nine cents, ma'am."

(Cashier to woman in front of me at Walgreen's)

"Oh, yeah, and dis."

(Woman places a Hubig's on top of her $114.99 pile of douche and tube socks.)

Jan 12, 2011

"you silly fool, you can't change your fate...."

So it's been bitterly cold here (well, for here at least).

It takes me an hour to get downtown and to wait in a long, cold line to pay to park, and then walk to the Federal courthouse.

I have to practically undress in the lobby twice a day, (morning and lunch break) for security. I've streamlined my court outfit since: no belt, no watch, slip on shoes. Yesterday, my juror tag caused the machine to all but spark.

Every day this week we sit there listening to the most mind numbingly repetitious testimony from 8am till 5 pm.
I valiantly try to stay awake, though I'm heavily doped on codeine.

I'm deathly sick, coughing up my lungs, with the head cold from hell.
Sometime around 3 pm yesterday, as I instinctively pulled myself from slumping asleep again in jury seat number 1, I realized I couldn't see very well...that huge white board with all the numbers on it was all blurry.
I felt my left eye tearing.
Was I crying from the searing poignancy of maritime law? A trip to the restroom told me, no, it's just god's little gift of pink eye.
Are boils and the murder of my children by tent failure next, Jehovah?

Anyway, in good news, on the way home, I've been listening to this---all 4 disks:

Which I finally got. So excited!

There are a number of great arcane tracks here, but this will always be my favorite:

If there is a heaven, when I die (which I will any day now, I'm sure), I fully demand that this song is to greet me there, dammit.

Oh, and roller skates.
Roller skates.

Jan 7, 2011


Two years ago, at the worst possible time you could imagine, I was on a jury. I tried to get out of being picked, but to no avail.

I all but said "fry 'em all!!" in the voir dire.
Didn't work.

Anyway, that week was one of the most rewarding, boring weeks of my life. I got a glimpse into the judicial system and found it to be unbelievably boring/fascinating at the same time.

I also learned more about venereal disease than I ever wanted to know.

The case turned out to be one of child rape. A boy (who was now about 10) had been raped by an uncle of his from when he was about 3 to 5.
And given him a venereal disease to boot.
It was all just terrible.

The rapist had already been in jail for several years when the trial came up. I don't know why it took so long. That was disheartening. Most of the trial was sheer tedium, but there was one dramatic, heart wrenching moment when the boy's mother took the stand.

The boy hadn't seen her in years. As if in a movie, after a dramatic pause, the doors opened. All heads swung to the door. In came a young, slender, pretty woman in glasses, dressed in an orange jumpsuit. She was chivalrously escorted by two guards, helping her to keep from tripping on her shackles.
You could see the boy fighting back tears seeing her.

Me too.

She'd been in prison for years for dealing drugs. She turned out to be an articulate and persuasive defendant for her son.

The defense attorney tried to smear her, of course, but he was clearly grasping at straws.

That week we worked every day, sometimes 14 hours, always with the bailiff near us.
He even escorted us to our cars at night, both for our own safety and to keep us from discussing the case with each other until we were allowed to deliberate.

In the end, the rapist was sent to prison, but not without a fair amount of really intelligent discussion on our part. I have to admit, I had no doubts or hesitation, but others did. I was genuinely impressed by the discussion. Thankfully, however, my side won out. It was obvious to me at least that he was more than guilty.

At the end, we each got a certificate from the judge, a hard nosed, no nonsense woman who had spent a fair amount of time with us, making sure we got fed well. I'll give 'em that, we never went hungry.

After she thanked us, she promised we wouldn't have to serve on a jury for a certain amount of time. We all breathed a heavy sigh of relief and went home.

I'd forgotten how long that dispensation was supposed to last....until last week. Apparently it was for two years and eight months, because guess who just got a summons for jury duty again....bright and early this Monday morning?


Jan 6, 2011

Good Will

This afternoon, at Goodwill, wondering if I should buy the black Ben Sherman hat without a price tag or not, I'm ambushed by my own personal stylist:
a tall, lanky, elderly black man, with bloodshot eyes, in baggy chinos, a snazzy blazer and a beautiful, new feathered fedora.

"Oooo, yeah, that there's a good hat. You could pimp that baby
up reeeeeeal nice. Lemme show you."

(he puts it on my head and manipulates it into a jaunty angle)

"Go look in the mirror. Yeeeeeeah, dat look nice. Now looka hyuh."

(brings me long brown leather coat, c. 1979, offers it to me.)

"Oh, and dese the shoes you be needin'"

(points to the ones in his cart, size 11 black and white spectator shoes).

"But I ain't lettin' you have dem. Nope. I gots to get some of the women for myself now, you know. "

(He laughs)

Jan 5, 2011

just because

So pretty!
My inner boyfriend liked it so much, he's buying the Dimitri From Paris Chic Organization Box Set Vol 1 for me. He's learning.

Jan 4, 2011

The Black Swan: review in haiku

Tight ballerina

Shop lifts from Winona.

Symbolism ensues.

Jan 2, 2011

a few new years resolutions

Travel more.

Find a signature scent.

Dress a bit better.

Eat better

Exercise more.

thought for the day