November 05, 2003
Well, hell's bells....
I did it. I actually fixed/recovered my archives from Blobsnot.
Hadda start a new fake blog to get to the templates, but I dood it. Got to the new templates, opened a second window and copied the new one into the old one and got m'shit back!
Yay! (a la Crank Yankers, of course...)
Posted by: Stevie at 01:13 PM | Comments (41) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
Want my archives back damn
Want my archives back damn it
Posted by: Stevie at 12:58 PM | Comments (4) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
November 04, 2003
I got a Donnie-lanche!
So....I'm boppin' around in the site meter and I notice a large number of referrals from Donnie.
I go see whats doin' and...
He likes my site! Awwww...shucks...
He's such a sweetie!
See what I said about Southern guys?
Ya jest gotta love 'em.
Posted by: Stevie at 06:33 PM | Comments (50) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
This is excellent...
You really oughta go read this.
He sure as hell doesn't need the traffic, or anything. He got 'crashed' by Acidman and Glenn Reynolds, I think...Anyway, I just happen to agree with everything in this missive and want to do what I can to support it, help out, pass it on, get the word out, change it, stop it...do something to help men get back to being MEN. Ya know? You rock, Kim.
Posted by: Stevie at 06:28 PM | Comments (44) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
Man, I've gotta clean the house now...
This blog looks sooo good, now, I need to get the house caught up. It just feels strange to have the new blog here, in this mess of a house. It's not dangerous or disgusting or anything...just not as nice-lookin' as this is. Be cool if houses had templates that you could have a really cool person set to "Clean, but lived in...occupied by several animals that you don't know about til ya actually see 'em as opposed to havin' your nose knocked off the second ya step in the door.", which is pretty much the way I keep this place.
My mother was insane about cleaning. Well, she was just plain insane...but, when it came to cleaning, she made Felix Unger look like a slob. I was Oscar, according to her. She swore I got hungry just because she just finished cleaning the kitchen. I lived to undo her clean house. Every move I made was to counteract her....
She shouldn'ta flattered herself. I didn't spend that much time thinking about her. Although, if I had been doing it on purpose, who'da blamed me?
When she moved to Florida with my (stupid) boyfriend, I got her car and the house. And, Dad, for about a nano-second. I kept it clean, but I also hung a billboard-sized campaign poster of my high school guidance counselor, Clint Ware, who was also a county Freeholder right in the living room. He was fuckin' gorgeous. He was also the football coach. Man, I miss him....(He died, too. Damn it.)
Anyway.
I'm more casual about house cleaning. I'd much rather have old furniture and animals in my house than leather couches and no animals. I like it clean and smelling good all the time, but I'm not a dusting fanatic and I've pretty much named all the spiders in here and thus, don't wanna mess up their masterpieces, either...unless I hear the Munster's theme song in my head when I see too many cobwebs. I live right in the middle of a farm, so I've got a built-in excuse for the lack of dusting. If I actually tried to do that, between the farm and the fireplace, I'd lose what little I have left of my mind. I'd never be done. By the time I got "done", I'd hafta start all over again. Perpetual dusting...nah. Not me, man.
I'd rather hang out in deerstands. (I hear you giggling. Yeah...that was a pun...)
Here's my house: Ya come in the front door, through the carport. Once you're in and close the door, to your immediate left is the mudroom. This is where the dryer, barn boots, shoes, coveralls and such live. Immediately to your right are three steps up into the 'diningroom', which is used for everything except dining, except by the animals. There is a ceiling fan/light in here, a big cabinet that I got from my Grandpop's house that I keep the dry cat food on top of, a fake fireplace I keep the dog food and water bowls in front of, about 300 stuffed animals/dog toys, the computer, a bookshelf and a hallway. The hallway would be on your left, the kitchen is to the right. It's pretty big. It's got two corner cabinets built in. I've got extra dishes and shit in there. I've got a seperate desk set up in there with the coffee pot and all the shit ya need for that on it, including my Harley air-pot to keep coffee in so it doesn't get gross. The boombox and a ton of CD's are in there too, which is really behind me when I'm on the computer.
Down the hall, the first door on the right is George's room. Right across from his room, is a 'window' cut into the wall that goes thru to the living room. Best we can figure, it's to let the heat from the fireplace in better. Next door is the heater. Next door is the linen closet. Next door is the bathroom which has the washer and a library's worth of books and magazines in it. I also have two team pictures of the old Broad Street Bullies, the three times in a row Stanley Cup winnin' Philadelphia FLYERS!!!! on the walls, along with a huge poster of 'Lonesome Dove' and about 10 cow pictures. There are three mirrors behind the sink and the lights hang on chains.
Next door is my bedroom which is filled with the waterbed. There's a closet that had no doors, so I took two POW flags and sewed them together length-wise and hung them up there. Odd, but cool. There are another 1000 lbs of books in there and Eric and I have completely covered the walls with pictures of each other and cards we've gotten each other.
Back down the hall and back down the steps and to the right is the livingroom. It's dominated by a huge stone and barnboard fireplace. Straight across the room in the wall leading to the mudroom, there's a wagon wheel imbedded in the wall. I like that. The livingroom goes like this: As you walk in on the right and going around to the left, there's a small cabinet full of tapes that the rat lives on top of. Next is the entertainment center, with the TV, VCR and 300 tapes. Then, there's another small table upon which sits my Gandpop's bowling pin-shaped lamp. Next, in the corner and hiding a catbox is a rocking chair. Then the fireplace, which has big sprays of fake flowers on each end and a 3 foot horse-clock, my trophy, two huge potato chip cans, a coupla stuffed (fake) ducks and a bunch collectable NASCAR matchbox cars on it, while it's not being used. One of the ducks on there is wearing a cammo hat and looks like a soldier and the other one looks like a Grandmom. On the other side of the fireplace and hiding another cat box, is another rocking chair. Both chairs are also full of 'stuffies', as Eric calls them. After the second catty-cornered rocking chair comes my end table, my chair, Eric's chair, his endtable, then the couch, angled across the third corner. It has Christmas shit stored behind it, with about 7 or 8 huge stuffed animals sitting on top of that to hide it. On the walls are really pretty 'pictures' of Indians and wolves and such and about 10 Animal House calander pages. Most of John Belushi. The carpet in there is light blue and I have a gorgeous area rug with elk or deer fighting on it in front of our chairs. There's a coffee table angled in front of the couch, too. Oh, and another end table at the end of the couch. My tacklebox is currently sitting on that.
There is also a Georgia State flag (the old one) hanging in the window in the diningroom. Less than three feet from the 'pooter. Above that is a painting of an old man praying before a bowl of soup and a piece of bread. Next to that on each side are wooden candle holders with red candles. I've got a lot of stuff hung in here. Pictures of my Grandpop, John Wayne and Benicio Del Toro, Jesus, Ozzy Osbourne...
I decorate like a teenager....
I have a lot of cat and cow related stuff. I like old things. I either use or display that old stuff. I like bizzare shit, too. I have a 'Gandma in a jar' on the entertainment center.
If I were to sit here and go into even deeper detail, your eyes would glaze over and I'd die of old age trying to get it all said.
Suffice it to say, I'm ecclectic, esoteric and probably even a little eccentric and it shows.
Whadda ya want from a chick who used to own a Ford pickup with deer antlers wired to the grill with "You might be a redneck if...." lettered right above it? Whadda ya want from a chick who has cats named, among other things, Ozzy, Santana, Angus and Malcolm?
I'm just me. What you see is what I am. On here and in my house. I don't have the energy or mindset to try to appear to be one way, when I'm really another. I don't say one thing and think another. I don't act one way and feel another.
That smacks of lying to me and I just don't do it. It's too complicated and dangerous for me to waste any time on, ya know?
Besides, who wants to live in a friggin' museum?
Posted by: Stevie at 07:23 AM | Comments (43) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
Question...
I'm also currently re-reading Brett Butler's "Knee Deep in Paradise" and she mentions something I need to ask about.
I already know some Southerners are obsessed with peanuts. I can even accept the fact that they boil 'em. But, what does this mean? I'll quote Brett, who is speaking, in general terms, of Southerners and sex..."I know Southerners who don't care much for sex, per say, but if you watch them at a stock-car race or when a chamber orchestra plays on a Sunday afternoon, you can see ecstacy on their faces. Fiery grips of lust jump up in odd places, and those who have watched people lick their fingers after eating ribs or suck the peanuts out of a Coke bottle know bliss lives in the South..." Do what? Peanuts in Coke bottles? What da hell is she talkin' about? I mean, I like dipping my pretzels into a glass of cola, but do y'all put peanuts into bottles of Coke? What's that do? Is it good? Why come ya do dat? Enlighten me, please. I love learnin', especially about Southern stuff....
Posted by: Stevie at 06:10 AM | Comments (48) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
November 03, 2003
This might sound nuts...
(Like that's never happened before...), but....
I swear I was a Confederate soldier in a previous life.Posted by: Stevie at 04:24 PM | Comments (45) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
Was readin' Lewis again...
Just finished "I Haven't Understood Anything Since 1962" and "Elvis Is Dead And I Don't Feel Too Good Myself". "Don't Bend Over in the Garden Granny, You Know Them Taters Have Eyes" is also open to somewhere in the middle.
I miss Lewis. He died March 21, 1994 at the age of 47 from a bad heart. He never woke up from his fourth valve replacement surgery. After his third surgery, he wrote "I Took a Lickin' and Kept On Tickin'". As you can see, he had a way with titles...The title that makes me laught the most is "Shoot Low Boys, They're Riding Shetland Poines"....
The man was a nut.
With people like him and Sam Kinnison, who was also so rudely ripped outta life, I miss them to the point where, every so often, I wish there was something new by them out. Like an archive of material that hasn't been published or recorded yet. Like someone was cleaning out Sam's or Lew's or Stevie Ray's closet and found a box....a box of unreleased material. And, they'd release it.
And, I'd buy it all. Then, proabably, want more. Poor Lewis was so confounded by shit in the 80's and early 90's. As much as I miss him, I'm also glad he wasn't here to see some of the shit that goes on these days. Ozzy Osbourne gave him the vapors...imagine what politicians and other terrorists would do to him.
I'd like to hear his thoughts on Ozzy's TV show, myself. If he'd come out from under his couch long enough to write about it after seeing it, that is. I can't listen to him sing "Grandma Willie's Yard" without blubbering. I even taped the episode of Designing Women he was on. He played Julia and Suzanne's brother who had been in a nut hut and had been released and wanted to be a stand-up, but was scared to tell them. He was adorable and funny. He loved the old ways and his South. He makes me want to find and keep a copy of an old Cokesbury hymnal. Makes me want to move to Moreland, Georgia too. I've already done the 'own Labs and name them Catfish and Cornbread' thing. I'd do that one again. Next Lab I find myself with is already named Catfish. I wish I could have met him. I'd love to have shaken his hand or even given him a hug and said "Thanks". For making me laugh, cry, think and learn. And, I'd have made him 'from scratch' biscuits, too. (Tell God I said "Hi", Lewis and rest assured, you are not forgotten....)
Posted by: Stevie at 04:20 PM | Comments (44) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
Southern guys....
What is it about Southern men? Been reading Lewis Grizzard lately. The way he talks, you'd think women were too stupid to like Southern men. He goes on (and on) about how hard it is to find a decent woman if you're a 'SSWM', as he puts it (Single Southern White Male).
I just realized that most of the guys on my blogroll are Southern guys. I, myself, love 'em. And, I found another one in my comments.How can ya not love a guy who says stuff like: Damn, deleting all that email keeps me as busy as a cat trying to bury shit on a marble floor. Hottter than a goats ass in a pepper patch already too. Remember: If you can't be kind, at least have the decency to be vague.
See? He's funny, he rides a Harley, he's got dogs...he's pretty cool. Got issues with cats, but hey...can't have everything. (Where would I put it?) Go read him...you'll like him.
Posted by: Stevie at 07:30 AM | Comments (43) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
November 02, 2003
Here's a(nother) weird thing about me...
Since I've got Elvis crooning in my ear, let me tell ya one of my dearest-held 'Elvis' theories.
Priscilla is an asshole. She as good as killed the man when she first dumped him for the 'karate instructor'. She never did manage to stop using his last name in Hollywood or anywhere it did her some good. The minute the man died, there she was again. She turned his home into a tacky tourist trap, has been exploiting him for years and to this day would be nothing more than an anonymous hausfrau if not for him. Gonna try to tell me how she turned the estate around and 'saved' it from financial ruin? Don't bother. Of course she made it profitable. Keepin' her and Lisa Marie rollin' in it, ya know? God forbid either of 'em should actually hafta work. I love Elvis. I don't like her.I blame her.
Posted by: Stevie at 04:11 PM | Comments (39) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
Cookies are done...
Made oatmeal raisin, tollhouse and tollhouse with walnuts. Listening to Elvis, now.
Have the lyrics of a completely different song for ya's, though...
"Where, oh where are you tonight?
Why did you leave me here all alone?
I searched the world over and
Thought I'd found true love, but
You met another and
Ptttttth you was gone..."
How long has it been since ya heard that one?
Posted by: Stevie at 04:04 PM | Comments (43) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
Too cool.....
I don't know what possessed me, but I just threw in one of the old 70's tapes I used to play at the farm. Wow...didn't know I missed it. The music, I mean. Lady Marmalade (sp?) is playing right this second.
Hey, if you get here by Googling 'x-fire', can you say 'Hi' in the comments or something? It's kinda freakin' me out....lol. 'Course, that's how I spent months gettin' to Gut Rumbles, just Yahoo-ing Gut Rumbles. Still, it'd be nice to know....tsk. Anyhow....back to cleaning the house while groovin' to the tunes of the 70's...Shining Star is playing now...'Shining star for you to see, what your life can truly be...' 'I'm not in Love' just started...wow....I miss those cows. I miss that me, too. (Shake it off and go clean, girl....) Peace.....Update..."Do a little dance, make a little love, get down tonight...." This kicks ass!
God! I love the 70's!!!!!!
Further update...'Wildfire'...sigh. please...(lol)
What was this dude even talkin' about? A horse? Some chick? Both dead, or what? Oh frig...there's an owl, too. I'm so confused. Da hells this...'Help Me Rhonda?'...not by the Beach Boys. Sounds like Johnny Whitaker, the kid from 'Family Affair' and 'Sigmund & The Sea Monsters'.....
Good tho....even has a sax...cool...still see Johnny Whitaker singin'.... OMG!!!! S-A-T-U-R-D-A-Y NIGHT!!! The Bay City Freakin' Rollers!!! I do not believe this! Gotta go bounce around, now.
Be back....
Posted by: Stevie at 01:50 PM | Comments (45) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
The first time....
I spent a total of 5 years at that farm. I got pissed and quit a coupla times, but the longest of those times wasn't more than a week. But, the first time I worked there, I didn't even know Wally.
A buncha people were raggin' on me that I needed to get a job. I said I'd get one when I could find one milking cows. It was just something I wanted to do again. Less than a week after I said that there was an ad in the local paper wanting a farmhand/milker person. So, I called and got directions and went the next day. When I got there, I jumped outta the car, took a big deep breath and said out loud to no one in particualr "God, this place smells GREAT." I looked over at two of the brothers, Brian and Virgil, who exchanged glances and Virgil said "Ain't ever heard anybody say that before..." Brian just grinned his standard goofy grin and I 'interviewed' for the job.I was gonna be milking cows. I think I started out doing that shift work, workin' all three shifts....I can't really remember.
The only thing I do remember, vividly, is that every morning, at the end of the midnight shift, around 5:00am, this really nice-looking guy would come into the parlor, ask how far along I was and no matter what I said, seem disappointed.
After a coupla weeks of this, it started getting on my dick nerve. I'm not really big on disappointing people, especially very good-looking people whom I don't know. I finally asked Brian who the guy was. Another brother....there were about 7 of 'em. This one was Wally and 'he has nothing, whatsoever to do with cows.' Then WHY does he have to put me through this interview-in-hell every mornin' of my life and wouldja make him stop it, please?
They were right about one thing...this dude didn't know shit about cows. Or so he acted like.....
He did stop buggin' me.
I got pissed and quit, anyway...#1. I go back and this time, I'm gonna be the calf-chick and Wally, the Dwight Yoakam twin, who actually does know how to do more than act disappointed, is gonna be my boss.... Ooookaaaayyy...
Posted by: Stevie at 12:01 PM | Comments (43) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
Hoo-freakin'-ray....
Everybody is eating....amazing.
And, I have an idea for a post. But, first....I gotta go to....the 'library' for a while.
Don't tell Eric.
He'll just come open the door and let all the animals in. He does that.
A lot.
brb
Posted by: Stevie at 09:53 AM | Comments (40) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
Naw...I ain't dead....
Just tryin' to get the rest of the way back on track.
I do feel better about a lot of this, but....it still makes my stomach get all tingley and not in the good way, when I think about it too much. But, I can breathe again...that's a start.
George went to Jersey to his Dad's and had dinner there. Eric Jr. went to the movies with Aaron and his Mom and Eric Sr. had two hayrides, so I was wonderin' if anybody was gonna eat this stuff.
Me, never one to learn too quickly, I also made oatmeal raisin cookies. Tollhouse is next.
I will get their attention, here. Fastest way to a man's heart, indeed. I'll stick with Biff Rose. He says the fastest way to a man's heart is through his left ventricle.... Anyway, I'm alive and breathing. When I can once again actually taste my cigarettes and coffee, I'll let ya know. In the meantime, if anybody's hungry.....
Posted by: Stevie at 08:35 AM | Comments (48) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
October 31, 2003
Yeah, okay....
I'm #3 on Singapore Yahoo (?) for 'picture of x-fire the show', whatever in the hell that means...
This other one, I don't get at all...stevie ray vaugn+death, because...what language is this?
Uw site als eerste resultaat? Op basis van de door u opgegeven zoekwoorden, wordt uw zoekresultaat hier getoond als 'Sponsored Result'. Het zoekresultaat linkt naar uw website. U bereikt direct de mensen die op zoek zijn naar uw produkt. Interesse?
Anyone?
Bueller?
Posted by: Stevie at 06:17 PM | Comments (43) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
October 30, 2003
I finally made it...
into the top five of a search.
I am number 4 on German Google for "Dwight Yoakam tight jeans bulge".
(*shaking head and whispering...'Jesus Christ'...*)
Thanks, Dwight and by the way,,,
WHERE THE HELL IS IT?
Posted by: Stevie at 08:56 PM | Comments (44) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
Can someone tell me why, please?
When Eric worked at his first valve shop, before coming to work at the farm where I met him, he did not travel. Ever. Period. End of story.
This was because the BC was an evil, controlling, intimidating, manipulative, shrewish, demanding bitch.But...he didn't go away.
I am not like that. Even when I wanna be, I'm just not that way. I doubt I'd even be any good at it.
But, I don't want Eric to be gone, either. For vastly different reasons, granted. My wantin' him around comes from a way different place than her holding him hostage did.
My way doesn't work. He'll be going away. A lot. For long times. All I wanna know is why? Why did she get what she wanted by being a total asshole about it and wanting it for the wrong reasons? Yet, I'll end up alone. And...I'm the nice one. So...
WTF?
Posted by: Stevie at 04:34 AM | Comments (45) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
October 29, 2003
How bizarre...
This place is #10 on the list for the search "Mookies Last Christmas". Odd.
Does everybody else know something I don't know about this?
(The post that has these three words in it was a rant about Blogspot being down.)
Still....strange.
Posted by: Stevie at 06:42 PM | Comments (48) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
I was just reading Lewis Grizzard...
and saw the phrase 'Kingdom come'. It got me thinking...again.
I am going to officially name Eric's....um....winkie that. Kingdom Come.Then, I can nickname it 'King'...I like that. Then, there's the whole concept of 'kingdom come' and all the ways it has been forever altered by my brainstorm.
And....
I can not wait until the next time somebody says in front of me "...blah, blah, blah until kingdom comes." so I can pretend to look at a watch and say "With any luck, that'll be in less than 6 or so hours..." I think I really do feel better this time. And...he loved the sammiches.
Posted by: Stevie at 10:52 AM | Comments (43) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
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