…we keep it wrapped.
(Picture taken at Orange Alley at 25th Street in San Francisco on March 12th, 2015)
For reasons that would take up too many words, a colleague and I decided yesterday we were going to Hell.
“I’ll meet you there at the bar,” she said. And this, of course, got us wondering what the bar in Hell would be like.
“You could only order drinks that you drank in high school,” she said. For me, that would be cheap wines like Boone’s Farm or Tyrolia.
Here’s more speculation on what the bar might be like:
What a fucking day.
Item: Congress has tentatively agreed on a bill that will keep the government from shutting down. Now, there’s a lot wrong with it, starting with the fact that the Republicans are insisting on a huge payoff to Wall Street, basically holding the best interests of the people hostage to the best interests of the insanely rich. The smart money says the Democrats will:
a) raise holy hell, then
b) fold like the Vichy little bitches they are.
In other news, the sun is expected to rise in the east tomorrow.
None of this is the fun part, though. First, the GOP plan would … well, just read it. Continue reading
…in a hotel room in San Juan Bautista, California.
My wife and I had been having a lovely time until then.
I am fortunate she returned from the hotel pool in time
to switch off the set.
If she hadn’t, I might have ended up on Fox News.
(Picture taken in San Juan Bautista, California on June 22nd, 2013)
Irwin Mainway would be proud. Even he would have a hard time topping this headline: “Toys R Us pulls meth-toting ‘Breaking Bad’ action figures from shelves after Florida mom’s protest.”
The dolls, based on the recently concluded AMC series, featured characters based on White, a meth-cooking high school science teacher, and his sidekick, Jesse Pinkman. Along with the action figures, the toys came with fake bags of meth, sacks of cash and gas masks.
For those of you not old enough to remember, Irwin Mainway was a sleazy toy salesman who was perennially grilled about his dangerous toys (such as “Bag of Glass”) by Jane Curtin on the “Consumer Probe” skit. The toys were over-the-top ridiculous. Continue reading
One morning last May, I stumbled into the kitchen, past the back door, stopped, backed up, and gazed through the glass. In the backyard staring at me, was a visitor. Then my son Joey, walking with his eyes closed, strolled into my back.
“What are you looking at?” He asked.
“We have a friend in the backyard,” I said.
Our visitor was a rabbit. He sat there staring at us, nibbling on grass, as patient as the dew.
“Hey Bunny,” said Joey. “Can I have pancakes for breakfast?”
Now, I know that the world can be dull and commonplace, so I have taken it upon myself to add some wonder and high adventure wherever possible, so that my son does not take for granted the thousand little miracles we see every day. I decided to provide our lupine guest with a more personal history.
“You know who that is?” I asked. “That may just be a rabbit, or it might be Swamp Bunny.”
Robin Williams died yesterday, and when I heard the news I immediately thought of this collection of Daffy Duck toys I keep in an old-fashioned hanging bird cage in my basement. I have kept these toys in this way for years, collecting dust in a dark room, locked away like the picture of Dorian Gray.
It’s like I have collected iconographic bits of my own particular madness and put them in a teeny jail, though I have always thought of it as a shrine to Daffy, my God of Insanity.
I’m back to the 2014 reading list with a book I picked up at my favorite used book shop – this one about as much fun as one can have with words. The book is called An Exaltation of Larks, or The Venereal Game and it’s written by James Lipton – yep, the same James Lipton who was the longtime dean of the Actors Studio Drama School at Pace University and host of Bravo’s fascinating Inside the Actors Studio.
While this book is indeed about venery, it’s the second definition at the link that fits Lipton’s work, not the first. Certainly there’s indulgence bordering on the decadent, but it’s overwhelmingly of the mental rather than physical sort – though for those of you whose minds drift in those directions, there’s enough titillation to make even the flashing of wit that pervades this work – an excitement of thinkers.
Venery, for those who have refused to hypertext, in that second definition means “animals that are hunted; game.” The derivation of the word is given as follows:
Middle English venerie, from Anglo-French, from Old French vener to hunt, from Latin venari — more at venison. First Known Use: 14th century
Know what I want? One of these.
Know what I’d do with it? This. Continue reading
Item: A few days ago NJ Governor Chris Christie broke bad on Colorado.
Christie…questioned the “quality of life” in Colorado, questioning why people would want to live in a state where “there’s head shops popping up on every corner and people flying into your airport just to come and get high.”
…”For the people who are enamored with the idea with the income, the tax revenue from this, go to Colorado and see if you want to live there,” the Republican said.
If you were to review my OK Cupid profile, you’d find this:
And, just to be clear, this:
So today, OK Cupid e-mailed me this: Continue reading
The other day I was lamenting to one of my online sports groups that the place would be a lot more fun if we had a couple of vocal Manchester United supporters on board. Normally I don’t long for the company of muppets, but this year is special for us Manc haters. See, the once-mighty Red Devils, having seen legendary manager Sir Alex Ferguson retire over the summer, find themselves in a really disappointing mess under new head man David Moyes. Disappointing for United fans, that is – the rest of the world can’t stop laughing.
Manchester’s supporters have gotten accustomed to winning, and not winning isn’t settling well. As sports fans everywhere know, few things on Earth are bitchier and whinier and altogether more entertaining than the entitled backers of a dynasty run aground. Hence my longing for the wailing of Mancs on the list. (The place hasn’t been totally unrewarding, I should note. We do have a couple of Arsenal fans, and they’re generally easy enough to stir up, especially after a 6-0 pasting at the hands of my beloved Chelsea.)
I got a nice note from a woman earlier today on OK Cupid. She thought I looked interesting and wanted to take a shot, although she wasn’t 100% clear on what I meant with my answer to one question. There’s a section at the bottom of the profile where you have to fill this out. Continue reading
It started innocently enough, as these things often do, with our boy Dan Ryan on Facebook wishing there was a video of the gopher from Caddyshack dancing to “Water of Love” by Dire Straits. Which, turns out, is actually a thing. That caused me, for some odd reason, to wonder what the movie would have been like if David Lynch had directed.
Then Jim Booth got involved, and it was all downhill from there.
So here it is, our best guess as to how Lynch would have cast the film, along with some plausible plot twists. Continue reading