January 12, 2005
This reminds me....
Didja hear about the insomniac, dyslexic agnostic?
He sits up all night, wondering if there's a Dog. You can thank this guy for that. And, read a bunch more, even worse "groaners" over at his place. He also has an utterly AWESOME set of pics up. They're here. Gotta warn ya, though... if yer squeamish about absolute and utter JUSTICE, don't look. I like Denny.Figures.
He's a friend of Rob's. Update @ 8:40pm:
Okay... after reading a bit further down, I found this, which made me laugh coffee almost out my nose AND, come up with one (or two) for "husband"... Such as: H-Handyman- Like Tim Allen...
U-Undersexed- So they like to claim...
S-Selective Deafness- Strictly a male trait. Can't hear what you say ...right to their faces, but can hear you whisper about them in ...another room.
B-Bedfellows- They're the snoring blanket thieves...
A-Aorta- The REAL "fastest way to a man's heart".
N-Needful- if you can find an honest woman who'll admit it.
D-Disband- Dis band on my finger, HE put there and that makes ...him mine, so back off, ya bitch... (I know those elipses make it read awkwardly, but I couldn't get it space correctly without them...) There may be another one like this soon, but I hafta go get cigarettes and Copenhagen right now, so... I'll work on it. If I come up with anything worth typing (this time), I'll post it later. Geez, Denny... you sure are inspirational to me... *grin*
Posted by: Stevie at 07:25 PM | Comments (5) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
Anything I can do help....
grind Kerr-McGee to dust, like they did Karen Silkwood and Rob, I'm more than happy to do.
So, with that in mind, please pass the word on this. If you know anybody who may qualify, it's info they should have. I truly hope that as many people sign up for this as have been FUCKED, to death even, by Kerr-McGee. I further hope they win HUGE and Kerr-McGee eventually gets bankrupted right out of business. "I have a dream..." (with apologies to MLK) Thank you, Amy, for sending me the link.Hugs on ya.
Posted by: Stevie at 06:42 PM | Comments (4) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
January 11, 2005
Well, that wasn't so bad....
I was up for 32 hours and slept for eight and a half.
Since I've been up, I've installed new flea collars on 15 out of 22 cats and two rabbits. Need a total of nine more. But, one cat is nursing a baby, another may be in the process of making another batch, etc., so it's really seven. For now, anyway.... I've also washed my uniform and put away all the clean clothes in the bedroom and made the bed. And, speaking of washing my uniform... yesterday, I got proof, once again, that God does exist and He likes me. I washed the new white shirt to loosen it up and threw in two of my side towels and a sock or three. I'm standing there, waiting for it to finish "filling" (smallest load you can do) and start agitating, so I can dribble in the bleach. When it does, as I'm getting ready to pour, I notice something pink flash on top and disappear."What da fuck?"
I stop it and there it is again. I pluck it out and it's GUM!!! Can you fuckin' imagine if I hadn't been there to see that immediately?
Thinking about "what mighta been" makes me feel faint... If I had gone back to get that load, opened the washer and seen that white shit covered in gum, I think I simply would have spontaneously combusted. That's the kinda shit that happens that makes me think God likes me. I know He knows I exist on a daily basis as I seem to be the "on-call 24/7" subject of His highly twisted sense of humor.
But, when He saves my ass like that, it blows my mind. Of course, I also give Him all the credit for green lights and two-tops where the people order the same thing (my absolute favorite kinda customers *giggle*) and Cheech & Chong. These things show me He likes me. Things like my mother, the fact that I'm stuck being a chick and that Ephedra got banned prove to me that the twisted-ness of His sense of humor knows no bounds. It's all good. I can handle it.
Though sometimes I do feel a need to remind Him that I'm a Taurus, not a real life Brahma bull, and that my strength DOES know limits, though I don't think I've reached it's true "end" yet and that almost scares me. Even if there is (and I'm sure there is) more "strength-testing crap" that could break me, I'm not so sure I'd wanna survive it, if ya know what I mean. If it's so bad that my strength finally gives, then... it must be pretty fuckin' horrible and it's easy to see not wanting to deal with the situation, whatever it may be. I've been through enough of those times where only the idea that He MUST think I can handle this or He wouldn't be expecting me to, so maybe I really can handle it, but I still wish He'd HELP ME HERE PLEASE, to last several lifetimes. Actually and quite frankly, there have been many times where I was PISSED and screaming out loud at Him for making me live when all I wanted was not to anymore. He'd kill any and everybody around me and leave me standing and I resented the hell outta that for a long time. Since 2001, I think I'm starting to understand why He did that and now I'm glad He did it. And, I hope to Him He keeps doing it for a while longer. I'd more than love it if I were to be able to have as many good years, here with Eric specifically, as I had bad ones throughout my life. That's fair, isn't it, which life is notoriously not, I know? (That's why I tend to leave it up to God, not "life"... ya know?) Eh... to be honest, I think every single day I have now, "erases" about a year of bad, in and of itself. Yeah, sometimes I get scared witless that things might "change", but I'd much rather just enjoy every single day I do get than worry about when it might end. And, thank God, I mostly do these days. I gotta go get ready to sling hash, y'all.
Have as good a day as ya can, okay? Peace
Posted by: Stevie at 08:01 AM | Comments (5) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
January 10, 2005
Gee, how fuckin' astute you are, Dillhole...
The extortionist speaks...
(And I copy and paste...)
#62505 (Every fuckin' time....).
http://caughtintheXfire.mu.nu/archives/062505.php IP Address: 24.59.75.41
Name: Michael Crook
Email Address: crook.m@michaelcrook.com
URL: http://www.michaelcrook.com Comments: You're just jealous because YOU didn't think of it first! First off, I've gotta ask ya... Did your Mommy tell you to say that to the "meanies who pick on her widdle boy"?
Cauuuse, that's about how that sounds.
Just so ya know. And, for the record, that emotion you feel coming off me waves in reference to your abominable behavior is relief that no matter how fucked up my head is, was or ever could be, it would never even BEGIN to conceive of the kind of debauched bullshit your's did. That relief I feel in such abundance is second only to the ENORMOUS contempt I have for you which, by the way, is blended to a 'just so' perfection with the desire to find out someone has beaten the bloody hell out of you.
Again... just so ya know. You, Sir, are one sorry excuse for a human being. However, you are a PERFECT example of a pencil-necked, parasitic, pansy-assed pissant. Any questions?
Posted by: Stevie at 07:09 PM | Comments (7) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
Didn't go to sleep...
Nope.
I'm still up.
But, I'm also done.
A shower, washing my hair and all that mess will perk me back up.
I also have Mountain Dew. I'll make it.
Just knowing the house is this clean will keep me going til 4p.
I hope. Pray for me if yer of a mind to. Peace
Posted by: Stevie at 04:45 AM | Comments (3) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
I don't know what the hell I'm doing awake, here....
Well, I know I'm cleaning, but I really oughta be asleep.
I do hafta work "later".
When I get home from work, I'll be going to bed within a very short time. Right now, what I either want or need, I can't decide, to do is clean the "kitty treat" boxes and maybe do a load of whites. That leaves the vacuuming and washing my hair for sometime later, hopefully after I sleep for a few hours. The reason I think I need to do the boxes now, is that mostly full trash bag over there. I clean them out, throw that bag into that big bag and then I can get it outta here. Which, if I start the load of whites before, that'll be done by the time I am, pretty much. I'm gonna dry it later on anyway, so it's done when I need to put the shirt on. That way, it won't lay in the dryer and wrinkle. I do NOT iron, thanks.
I know how, I just prefer not to. Curling irons are bad enough. Anyway, I guess I oughta shut up and get this shit (no pun intended) done and either keep going or go to bed. Yeah, sometimes I do get on my own nerves.
Why?
*giggle* Peace
Posted by: Stevie at 12:17 AM | Comments (3) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
January 08, 2005
Update on the camera thieving pinko douchebag....
Dear Gawd, kill me now, the dickhead's a blogger.
AND, he's from Salem County, which just figures soooo much I can barely stand it. (Well, that's where one of his divorces was finalized, anyway... Here's hoping he got as dryly cornholed as every other guy who got adjudicated there.)
He is the kinda asshole I hope I never am, even for one second... The kind of asshole, who is SUCH an asshole, he can't even begin to understand what a BLEEDING asshole he really is. Jesus wept.
(While I shuddered...) Update @5:22pm....
Remember when Geraldo did that stuuupid "Al Capone's Vault" thing? How he kept digging through one layer of detritus after another? Well. That's what reading this futz's site is like. His opinion, published in a letter to the editor of some newspaper, speaks to his attitude about this soldier. (If you can hear it over the screaming of the fact that he was refused for military service, that is...) Found in his "writing archive", which should really be re-named his "tinfoil hat wearing, letters to the editor writing archive". Also, there is, under his "links" section, contact info for this jerkoff that includes his phone number for his WEB HOSTING SERVICE. I'm just sayin'....
Posted by: Stevie at 05:12 PM | Comments (4) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
Underneath the anger....
This is what I hear.
For Rob...(because sometimes "Islands" do and it is heard.)
At least I had you every now and then
And in between the sorrow
At least there was tomorrow
And as long as there’s tomorrow
There’s no end
Oh, I wish that I could hurt that way again. Oh, I wish that we could play that game again
Even though I’d always lose and you would win
At times you would desert me
The emptiness would hurt me
But your coming back
Was always worth the pain
Oh, I wish that I could hurt that way again. I’d love to hear you tell me
You don’t need me anymore
Just like you used to tell me everyday
I’d love to watch you leaving
Like the hundred times before
At least my eyes could see you walk away. Oh, I wish that we could play that game again
Even though I’d always lose and you would win
At times you would desert me
The emptiness would hurt me
But your coming back
Was always worth the pain
Oh, I wish that I could hurt that way again...
I know... oh, I do know.
Posted by: Stevie at 04:09 PM | Comments (3) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
Every fuckin' time....
you think you've heard of or seen or know or experienced the worst of human nature, some DICK comes along and proves ya wrong.
I realize it's only the first week of the year, but this guy's just gotta be the "(Used) Douche Bag of the Year"... well, so far, anyway. Here's the story from Channel 10 News.... Can ya fuckin' believe this sub-human piece of shit? For further proof, check this shit out.... I hope this asshole has a heart attack. Don't get me wrong, now. I don't want him to die... I just want him to have a heart attack, then another and another and another (etc.), because I know they hurt. He should live through each one and be fully aware of every second of each one. Say... a thousand of them? Whatta DICK. Update @ 12:55pm...Just to be on the "safe side", I just called Channel 10 newsroom and it IS true. I almost did that in the first place, but my gut knew it was true, so I didn't. THEN, Mad Wm. linked this, so I decided to call and be absolutely certain. (It's one thing to possibly hang my OWN cheese in the wind, but Mad Williams? Even "possibly"? Nah. Had to be 100% sure.) So, yes, this Crook asshole is for real and no, the soldier still hasn't gotten his camera back yet, according to the chick in the newsroom.
Posted by: Stevie at 03:31 AM | Comments (6) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
Happy Birthday, you hunka, hunka burnin' love, you...
And, you know what they say about the sight of a man on a horse.
Especially this one....
Still the King....
Posted by: Stevie at 01:02 AM | Comments (3) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
January 06, 2005
This must be "Dennis Farina Day"....
While I was making dinner, I watched "Blind Faith", about Robert Marshall, that putz. In the second half, Dennis is the Prosecutor who put Marshall away. Dennis is fuckin' GORGEOUS....
I love his face. Now, I just changed tapes and happened to grab "The Hillside Stranglers". Guess who is in it?Yup.
Dennis, again. Only this time, he's playing Angelo Buono, who, together with his cousin Kenny Bianchi, murdered a shitload of women in the mid- to late 70's in L.A. Cop-type or bad guy, Dennis is compelling. He's got the most intriguing face.... I reeeeally wouldn't mind meeting this guy. I'd probably just stand there, grinning at him like a dolt or stuttering all over him, but it'd still be cool. Hell, I keep getting re-freaked out every time I remember that I'm good friends with a guy that David Bowie is aware exists. David Bowie knows who my buddy is. Knows his name and all. And... so do I.
*grin* I of course told my buddy that, should he run into Bowie, he can feel free to extend an invitation to go riding. *rolls eyes at self*
As if. Still.... Nah. ? Anyhoo... Dennis Farina, chick, not Bowie, okay? Dennis Farina... oh, there he is, too. Ye Gods, that face... I don't know who the wuss is playing Kenny, but he's a little too "pretty" for me, thanks. Plus, Ken Bianchi is/was a lying sack of monkey shit from the day he was born, so I don't like him even more. (Not to mention the fact that HE'S A MURDERER, you stupid blonde bim....) And, no, I didn't think the real Buono was remotely cute. Oh, holy shit... Dennis in a leather jacket. *wipes chin* Hey, wanna know something kinda cool about this movie? The real life cop who gave his all to this case and got them both is named Grogan. Bob Grogan, if I remember correctly. He, the real guy, had a cameo in this movie. When the Bellingham, Wa. PD arrests Bianchi at the docks, it's Grogan who steps forward, announces the arrest and slaps on the cuffs. I like that. He's a cute old poop, too. Oh yeah... remember that "plan" I had? Well, I made it through "making dinner", but now I feel akin to mutilated Play-Doh and I just wanna go lay down and read.
Well, my body does, anyway.
I wanna get this shit done. I hate when this happens.... Oooh and another thing... I saved a mouse. Poor widdle fing is in a fish tank, with a lid and water, oats, rat food, a bit of cheese and cedar chips. I hope he lives. I got him right away, but still, it had to hurt, being clamped in Santana's jaw like that. He sure did holler, poor little turd. I also hate when that happens. These damn blasted cats get fed more than even Sally Struthers could eat in a day and still they hafta be murderin' a-holes. Pfft. Not as long as I'm around, though. It's not necessary, needed or the least bit nice, so it ain't happenin' in front of me. Bad enough his little arm was hurt, at first. He seemed to be moving around kinda well, after he'd been in the tank for a while, but now he's just laying quietly, breathing 2000 mph, which is probably normal for him, but to me looks like he's hyper-ventilating, or something. Plus, I keep peeking into the tank with a flashlight, like a cop on suicide watch. Bet he's lovin' that part... *giggle* *suddenly pictures self as "Lenny"... "I will love him and feed him and pet him, forever and ever..." rapidly petting mouse* Jeezus. I think maybe I should go to bed. From Dennis Farina to mouse rescue in less than 15 minutes....
That's gotta be some kinda record.
Or sign of neurosis.... Peace, y'all....
Posted by: Stevie at 10:33 PM | Comments (3) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
This is my brain....
Welcome to it.
So- I was at work, right? And the toast guy I've mentioned before, the LARGE black guy who I never ever wanna let down or piss off, asked me to hand him a spoon. I, not hearing him right, said "Sure!" and whipped out my cigarettes. I thought he said to give him a "smoke". He looked at me like I'm a 'tard, which I am, and repeated, slowly, "Spooooon." I died of embarrassment, then handed him a spoon and sorta stuttered for a few and just turned around, giggling and red faced, and left the area. Thank CHRIST I heard him right the first time when he asked me for a FORK about an hour later.Posted by: Stevie at 05:46 PM | Comments (4) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
Oh hell yeah....
Now, this makes my morning.
Found it in my site meter referrals.
Posted by: Stevie at 02:00 AM | Comments (3) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
Okay, but WHY?
I am sitting here with a few $20's next to my keyboard and I don't get it.
I can smell them from where they sit, let alone when I had them in my hand a minute ago. They smell so strongly of some kinda perfume-y shit, that I can about taste it.Kinda like dryer sheets maybe.
Hmmmmm.... And, just where did this come from? Amused minds wanna know, man.
I mean, I know where we got 'em from. But, where did the bossman get 'em from? (Probably the bank, but, daaamn... *giggle*) Fuck, they smell good. But, still....
*looks at 'em sorta cockeyed* First time I've EVER noticed money having such an odor. Oh dear Lord... the inside of the pay envelope they came in is cookin' with that smell. I'll bet even the check in there is sweet-smelling. This is just cutely typical. Me to have all this foo-foo smellin' shit and I don't even use "perfume" myself. I wear men's cologne, usually. Drakkar, Black Suede... using Preferred Stock a lot lately. Only women's stuff I use is Taboo and that is NOT what's on this cash. Ugh. Even sitting out, it's not diminishing. Still as strong as it was when I first noticed it.
Know what I thought of first?
How us chicks used to spray letters to guys with perfume.
But, who'd spray money to a guy? (Well, with perfume, anyway?) On toppa which, I can't find my favorite little pair of scissors. I know they're here, somewhere, but with half a ton of "innocent" cats around, who'd NEVER throw ANYTHING of mine on the floor and bat it around til it goes under a major appliance, they're being difficult to locate just now. Shame I don't need 47 pounds of straw, any feathers, mud, cow shit or grocery bags, as they're every-freakin'-where.
Unlike my scissors. And, I just got up.
That happens when ya go to bed at 5:30pm. Dis gonna be an iiiiinteresting day.
I can tell already. Not to eeeeven mention that my "leetle frien'" is due any minute now. (Just got a twinge in the left ovary as a reminder, in fact.) AND, I have to be at work in about 7 hours. That might oughta be explained a little, huh?
Well, first off, like I said in the last post (I think), I am weird. Especially about this particular subject.
I hate "mornings" no matter what time they happen. The first few hours I'm awake, it's best to just pretend ya don't see me, then ya won't feel compelled to talk to me or make me try to make sense yet. All I want is coffee, a book and TIME. Let me come to life in my own way and all is well. Rush me, or get in my face too soon and all is lost for HOURS. It's just not worth it. Believe me. If I'm rushed or fucked with, I feel nauseous, get pissy and just plain hate for a while. I am sooo not the "hit the ground running" type. I'm more of the "ooze to the bathroom, get all the cats outta there, then nail the door shut" type. Which reminds me.... I do NOT know what's up with Mr. Eric lately, but that little shit KNOWS when I go into the bathroom and invariably shows up EXACTLY the instant the last of the air exits the padded seat and I'm settled and then I hafta MOVE. As in: Leave the bathroom for a few. I use this time wisely (after I get done making up new cuss words) by retrieving an incense, which I will surely need, and getting a fresh cuppa coffee and shit.
My hand to God, the last 15 times I've gone to the bathroom, that nerd has shown up, being all squinch-faced, yet still cute, and hopping around and making me feel simultaneously "rushed" (my FAAAAAVORITE thing) and half guilty for being in his way in his tiny little window of opportunity to get in here and go and I wanna know where the frickin' camera is, damn it. *gmao* (Means "giggling my ass off".) Any-gotdamned-way, back to getting up three days before I hafta be somewhere...
It's just better. The longer I'm awake before I become obligated to be coherant, the better.
As we can all see with this very post, no? *rolls eyes* I think I better get some more coffee. Intravenously, even. See ya's after work, I guess.
Y'all (all) have a good day, okay?
I'll try to, too. Peace
Posted by: Stevie at 01:52 AM | Comments (4) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
January 05, 2005
What the hell did I do?
This is so weird...
(But, then again... so am I...)
Jeez, man. *siiigh* Ooookay. Aaaanyway.... since I fell asleep so soon after I got home, I'm up now, boy. Awake and getting ready to clean few critter cages, then re-do my nails. No sense doing the nails first, then slopping around with used brougham grass, right? Ew. Need to straighten the house a little and I hope to hell I remember later that if I go anywhere in the Bird, the gas station had best be the first stop, or my first stop'll be a long one... while I wait for someone to come "rescue" my ass with a can of gas. What else?
Oh... at work today... dead in there. But, I think I made the owner wonder about me, kinda. I had taken care of three tables, up to and including giving them their checks and checking on them and all was fine. SO, I dove into the back and lit a smoke. While I was there, the hostess chick came and got me, because I'd forgotten some dude's bacon and he'd just realized it himself. I went to get it for him and the owner said something I didn't hear completely about me smoking and I briefly (and nicely) said "Yeah, but he has his check and I did check on them all, first. He just realized it, himself..." and ran off to deliver it.
No big deal, BUT...
It seemed to me that every time I had a cigarette after that, he was looking at me.
Paranoid, much?
In there, yeah.... I seriously doubt much'll come of it. He may say something to the Boss Lady for her to pass on to me, but he said nothing to me, personally, about it. And, she said once before that she thinks I'm a good waitress-type person and she won't let me be fired for anything stupid. Hell, they've lost so many girls lately, I'd like to think a cigarette isn't the end of the world. Besides, it was kinda s-l-o-w in there, like I said and I did make damned sure everything that could be was done before I lit any cigarette, so we'll see what happens. Okay, in the meantime, I've got shit to do, here. One thing, though... someone, I think it mighta been Rob, mentioned the Payola scandal of the 50's and 60's the other day. Alan Freed was mentioned, as was Dick Clark. Just so's ya know... I just put in a tape I made that has "American Hot Wax" on it. That's Alan Freed's "story". I think he was robbed, myself. On to the animals.... Peace
Posted by: Stevie at 02:27 AM | Comments (4) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
January 02, 2005
Oh My Gawd...
I am so gonna get spanked for this, but I have to... I just have to....
See, I was peeking at the Site Meter when I noticed that alla my hits today seem to be pretty equally divided (so far) between Brian Piccolo, for some reason, and Gut Rumbles, 'cause Rob did a linkage post. He (Rob) also has a New Years Resolution test, which I took and it came back with something about me "sleeping my life away" and that "sunrise and I aren't well acquainted (paraphrased)" and it had a picture of a pile of sleeping puppies.Cute.
There was also a list of other tests, so I did another one, called "What does your name stand for?" I entered "Acidman". And... here's the result:
| ACIDMAN | ||
|---|---|---|
| A | is for | Articulate |
| C | is for | Comical |
| I | is for | Impressive |
| D | is for | Dedicated |
| M | is for | Musical |
| A | is for | Amazing |
| N | is for | Naughty |
And he thinks that New Years Resolution test he did wasn't far from the truth?
Jeez...
Posted by: Stevie at 12:12 PM | Comments (4) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
January 01, 2005
Oh Lord, it must be getting to be "that time" again...
That would explain me having a mini-meltdown after George and Tiger left and my wet face now.
First the mini-meltdown of the other day.... Y'all remember my "epic struggle" with the toilet paper holder in the bathroom? It took me nine forevers and all kindsa BULLSHIT, including copious amounts of super glue, to get the stupid thing to stay TIGHTLY attached to the wall. Nobody cared, nobody helped me, it was alllll mine to fix... and to have and to hold til the end of eternity... or til a lil dipshit shows up, and was, admittedly, a sweetie to even ATTEMPT to hang a new roll of TP (being a tiny GUY and all), and manages to RIP IT OFFA THE WALL. (I won't eeeeven say anything about the fact that the roll was hung BACKWARDS!!!! *giggle*) Talk about defeated. Between that and him drinking alla my iced tea TWO DAYS IN A ROW (and I didn't even get any of the second gallon), I freaked a little. Told Eric then that it may be pre-PMS. My one "bitchy" day. Well, it musta been, cause now I'm losin' it again, because of Lonesome Dove. I always get wet-eyed at this movie anyway, but I was reading IMDb about it and Tim Scott, the man who played one of the sweetest characters in this movie, Pea Eye Parker, is dead in real life. He died in 1995 of lung cancer.I read that and I was gone.... Then, I'd stopped it when the Kiawa's went after Gus across the plains and he was gonna knife his horse in the throat. I fuckin' hate that scene, so I shut 'er down and went to bed (around 5:30/6:00am). I came out here, fast forwarded to just past the MURDER (of the horse) and got to thinking about Pea Eye, then next thing I know, July is blaming himself for the deaths of Roscoe, Joe and Janey and there I went again.
July Johnson is another love of mine from this movie. Such a sweet and gentle man to have such a cunt for a wife. I'm always glad when she bleeds to death.
He's there, digging and crying and blaming himself and it just tears at my heart. So, between Tim Parker being dead for real and July flipping out, I'm having an interesting morning... lol. One thing that makes me ever s'much better to have found out that Dax hasn't truly cut himself off from this masterpiece just because Robert Duvall says stupid shit. He was gonna, ya know. Dax got all het up over something political and apparently really stupid that Duvall said, went a little nuts and threw this movie out. I was floored.... Couldn't believe he'd do that to himself just because some "celebrity" is an opinionated dillhole. (I have no idea what Duvall said, either...) I pleaded with him, via comments, to reconsider and think about what he was throwing away and why. Wasn't sure if he even heard me or not, but I hadda try. I like Dax (and this movie) waaaay too much to see that and say nothing. Well, he's still got it. Or access to it, anyway. He watched it the other day, according to a post of his. I was so happy to read that, I almost grinned my face off. Then, Acidman mentioned it, so, right after "Up in Smoke", into the VCR it went. My second movie of 2005. Only really bad part left now is Deets getting killed by that stupid little teenaged Indian asshole, just for trying to help that blind baby.
See why I say it's just a gooood idea to stay the HELL away from kids? Even back then, same deal. The ones who put the "children" in those types of situations are never to blame or be held accoutable. Oh, nooooo. That gets shoved all over those who may try to help somehow. Myself, I'd have killed the whole bunch of them, for stealing, then killing, those horses. Starved, are ya's? Here, lemme help... bang, bang, bang. Now, they won't starve and Deets won't hafta be ventilated with that spear. See how well my ideas work out? Why won't anybody ever LISTEN TO ME!?!? *rotflmao* Whew... I must feel somewhat better... now I can't quit giggling at what a supreme BITCH I am. And, I don't care, either. Uh-oh. Jake is about to be hung.
Ya know... I do believe there is an element of revenge for that whore in Jake's being hung. Those guys know damned well that Jake was no murderer, no horse theif... but Gus hung his ass anyway. Had to be because of that whore. He let those Indians off, after they too stole horses AND killed Deets for no reason, so don't even try to tell me Jake was hung just for riding with those guys... nope, it was about that whore. Whom, by the way, this movie woulda been just fine without. He here goes.... spurring his own horse....
Bye, Jake.
Ya died brave, anyway. Okay... I've gotta start a pot roast. And, no, I do NOT mean "burn a bowl", which is also "roasting pot", I mean start dinner. (Althooooo, I may do both, come to think of it... *snerk*) They have these new "slow cooker" dinner kits and the pot roast one looked great, so I'mina give it a whirl. If nothing else, I can go on (and on and on) later about how I was cookin' dinner for about 8 hours, WHILE cleaning the house and taking care of the critters, etc, etc.
*eye rolling grin* Know who else I wish I didn't have to look at in this movie? Angelica Huston. I don't like her. She's ignorant to Call, bitchy in general and she has that same big-nosed hatchet face my mother did. 'Course, next to July's wife, she's downright cute, but I still don't like either of these chicks. (Yeah, Lorena disgusts me, too, but that's because she's such a hard-headed bitch and caused all that trouble on the drive. Dumb bitch. Shoulda just kept her ass in LD, with Wanz.) Anyhoo, off to the pot roast....
Be back later.
Posted by: Stevie at 01:43 PM | Comments (5) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
Okay, now that they've cut that out....
Two tiny, but oh so cool little thaaaangs...
First off, I am the official first commenter over at Gut Rumbles for 2005!*semi-smug-type grin* Second, I can remember sitting in the office at Wellacrest at midnight Dec. 31st, 1999, waiting to see if the computer was gonna blow up or die because of 2000. I had the radio on and the first song I heard was "Imagine".
Well, I did imagine and I sat there and bawled my eyes out. This year however, I am gonna make the first song I hear be "Comfortably Numb", since I can, since my other wonderful Rob got me a replacement of "The Wall" for Christmas, at Eric's suggestion I might add. Do I know some truly excellent men, or what? One second, whilst I get the CD player going....
(Still some numbnuts out there with what sound like those little annoying firecrackers that people are constantly blowing their fingers off with. One can only hope.... *snicker* Bitch, ain't I?) Ahhhhh... Hello.
Is there anybody in there?
Just nod if you can hear me.
Is there anyone home? Come on, now.
I hear you’re feeling down.
Well I can ease your pain,
Get you on your feet again. Relax.
I need some information first.
Just the basic facts:
Can you show me where it hurts? There is no pain, you are receding.
A distant ship’s smoke on the horizon.
You are only coming through in waves.
Your lips move but I can’t hear what you’re sayin’.
When I was a child I had a fever.
My hands felt just like two balloons.
Now I got that feeling once again.
I can’t explain, you would not understand.
This is not how I am.
I have become comfortably numb. Ok.
Just a little pinprick. [ping]
There’ll be no more --aaaaaahhhhh!
But you may feel a little sick. Can you stand up?
I do believe it’s working. good.
That’ll keep you going for the show.
Come on it’s time to go. There is no pain, you are receding.
A distant ship’s smoke on the horizon.
You are only coming through in waves.
Your lips move but I can’t hear what you’re sayin’.
When I was a child I caught a fleeting glimpse,
Out of the corner of my eye.
I turned to look but it was gone.
I cannot put my finger on it now.
The child is grown, the dream is gone.
I have become comfortably numb. Jeezus, this is a beautiful song. The guitar playing is beyond compare. The melody, the words, the meaning.... just as close to perfection as you can get. Dear God,
Thank you for allowing me to be alive during the era that this music and Southern Fried Rock and Skynyrd and Stevie Ray and Led Zepplin and all the rest of the best of rock and roll existed. It's helped more than I can ever explain. It's healed more of me than I can almost believe. It's held me in it's soulful, caring, understanding and ultimately comforting hands all my life. Or, maybe that was You. Sometimes, it's hard to tell the difference. It's in You and You are in it. And, you're both in me.
Thank you again for this.... Such beauty in my life.... Thank you, too, Pink Floyd.
I only wish y'all could know what you've done for me. Somebody please make sure this gets played at my funeral, okay?
This, some Skynyrd, a lot of SRV, maybe a little Clapton and if there's time, some Barry White would be good, too. So would some AC/DC, actually...
I've thought about this a lot, ya know. I don't want some mopey, dopey funeral. I want people there in jeans and T-shirts, comfortable and easy. I want there to be shots available at the door and good rock-n-roll playing, not that funeral dirge shit.... No crying, nobody is crying over me now, so don't start that shit then, either. Don't waste money on flowers that're only gonna die, too. Take that money and give it to an animal shelter in my name. I want there to be laughter and relief for me, because I'll not be hurt anymore and I'll be loving that, lemme tell ya. Laugh, tell stories on my ass, Lord knows I've done enough bizarre shit in my life to keep 100 people blabbing forever about funny stuff, so do it.
I also want somebody to pin a button on me that says "Who farted?" Okay? Somebody make sure this happens for me, please. Oooh, and don't forget The Beatles. At least "The Ballad of John and Yoko (Oh No)". That song kicks ass, too and it IS my funeral, Mad Wm., so quitcher gaggin'. Unless it's on a shot of Jack Daniel's ya got walkin' in the door.... *giggling my ass off* Nice topic for the first day of a new year, huh?
Well, nothing like "getting it outta the way"..... Not that I'm planning on croaking, but.... who ever REALLY does?
In fact, going by my life, if I plan for something, it never happens anyway. It's the shit I ignore that's always chewin' on my ass... know what I mean? Aaaaanyway..... So, skipping the fact that I was watching a (taped) Lifetime movie called "Only Way Out" with John Ritter and Henry Winkler (as a psychotic prick) when it became midnight, what do I wanna see first in 2005? The Birdcage? Daria? The Stand? The Green Mile? Weekend at Bernie's? Porky's, maybe?
Hmmmmm..... Oooh... it's gotta be "Up in Smoke", even though Tiger just got me to show that the other day....
Yeah.
The 7 year old loooooves that movie. He wants to see that, eat sloppy joe's and get me to make tollhouse cookies every time he's here... lol. Lil shit... *giggling* He's right, though.... Cheech and Chong are the shit, man.... Yeah, Pink Floyd and Cheech and Chong. Wonder what that, coupled with my hacking cough, says about me?
Hmmmm.... I wonder.
*falls outta chair laughing* (a minute or two later)
*shoves tape into TV* And, there's Cheech, pissin' in the clothes hamper..... lmao.... Up in smoke
Thats where my money goes
In my lungs
But never up my nose*
When troubled times
Begin to bother me
I take a toke
and all my cares
Go up in smoke
(*Apologies to Mr. Chong. Little creative editing, there...) And... All my friends know the lowrider.
The low-ride-r is a little higher
low-rid-er, drives a little slower
low-rid-er is a little colder
low-rid-er knows every street yeah
low-rid-er doesnt wanna meet yeah
low-rid-er dont use no gas yeah
low-rid-er dont drive to fast
take a little trip take a little trip take a little trip to see
take a little trip take a little trip take a little trip with me These two are nuts. Anybody know if (poor) Tommy is still locked up?
That was (and may still be) so stupid... locking him up NOW, for THAT.
I can see how this would be such a priority, seeing as how all the rest of "crime" is soooo under control. *rolls eyes... nearly outta head*
Honestly.
Locking him up is akin to muzzling a toothless Pitbull.
As in: What's the fuckin' POINT?
Ya know? *about an hour later* Fer piss sake.... I got all into IMDb, reading about the cast of "Up in Smoke". The movie, however, ended a little bit ago and I've now got "Lonesome Dove". Saw it mentioned over at GR, so here I am watching it... Lord, this is the best Western ever.... Peace
Posted by: Stevie at 02:40 AM | Comments (5) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
Hmmm... must be midnight
Some knobheads are setting off fireworks that sound like thunder.
Happy 2005, people. Now, can y'all cut it out, out there?(This is so not condusive to a good nights sleep for one who has to get up at 5am.... like Eric, fer instance, IF ya know what I mean.)
Posted by: Stevie at 12:03 AM | Comments (5) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
December 31, 2004
It's alive!!!
Everything is fine... except I keep having the shudders over Dad's idea of my having run off to marry Bill... gah!
No, I haven't snapped and killed anybody either.(Yet.)
lmao....
Posted by: Stevie at 06:27 PM | Comments (6) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
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