a dark room that isn't empty can be dangerous, lonely or lovely

~"…words are slippery and thought is viscous." -Henry Brooks Adams

~'Banderilla' by Calexico because it has no words and it's the type of song to which you sway with yourself, by yourself, alone with yourself, maybe in a crowd.

~Dead Man, because of its quiet oddservation.

this is  all for tonite, kids.  read on if you will.  it's just stream of c, because that's all i can seem to formulate today.  thanks. cheers and all.

The Clinical Effects of Idiocy on Relations, Intimate and Otherwise
A free pamphlet to be distributed among doctors' offices nation-wide.   
 
 
Polka-dots flirt

Hands make sandwiches

Driving caps revv my libido

Does sadness wake you up?

Sweater dresses keep me honest

Lee Remick died before I met her

I'd like to buy Mrs. Orbach a meal

Stuffed animals have souls that I don't want to be responsible for

Why do I understand 'the less I eat the better I feel' and 'the better I love the more I reel'? 

I've got in my mind's eye the image of an empty car with the back door ajar

What stories would you find if you dragged the ocean?

I feel better when I touch my toes

There should be a peccadillo tree

> or <

read and enjoy. or not. today's dwight yoakam's birthday. as you may or may not know by now, i love the marking of a year gone by with a celebration. it's a congratulations of sorts. getting older is a serious pain in the ass and i love it. when you hear "you've got 6 months or so; might want to get your things in order" it's fun to count every month after that.

i was watching this kinda lousy movie called Constantine and there's this actor in it named Pruitt Taylor Vince.  i forgot about him.  he drools and wriggles like nobody's business. he's from baton rouge and came into acting by mistake; a computer mishap enrolled him in an acting class by mistake. lucky us.

i'm going to sign off.  this blog is pretty dumb.  there are a million topics i want to touch. there are a billion injustices that make me angry.  ...but not tonite.  i've always been taught to keep that stuff to myself.  maybe i will.  in the meantime, here are some fancy quotes and whatnots.

A stiff apology is a second insult. The injured party does not want to be
compensated because he has been wronged; he wants to be healed because he
has been hurt. -G.K. Chesterton

If they can get you asking the wrong questions, they don't have to worry about the answers. -Thomas Pynchon

“Just me and a thousand good-byes.”
-MichaelTimmins

"Not that I want to be a god or a hero. Just to change into a tree,
grow for ages, not hurt anyone."
-Czeslaw Milosz

tropism (TRO-piz-uhm) noun
The turning or bending (typically by growth instead of movement)
of an organism in response to an external stimulus.

“When I was young, I admired clever people. Now that I am old, I admire kind people.” -Abraham Joshua Heschel

"...the sea is a collector, quick to return a rapacious look. There are others besides you who have worn that look--"
~~Marianne Moore

"People sense a home where love is dying."
~~Martin Roper 'Our House'

volitant (VOL-i-tuhnt) adjective
1. Flying or capable of flight.
2. Active; moving about rapidly.

mulligrubs (MUL-i-grubz) noun
1. Grumpiness; colic; low spirits.
2. An ill-tempered person.

"Kindness is more important than wisdom, and the recognition of this is the
beginning of wisdom." -Theodore Rubin

We in America do not have government by the majority. We have government by the majority who participate. -Thomas Jefferson

Unless someone like you cares a whole awful lot, nothing is going to get
better. It's not." -Dr. Seuss

“The sun shone, having no alternative, on the nothing new.”
-Samuel Beckett

“In the beginning, sometimes I left messages in the street.”
-David Markson, Wittgenstein’s Mistress

conversations with my broken pencil

~"I'm never going to be famous. My name will never be writ large on the roster of Those Who Do Things. I don't do any thing. Not one single thing. I used to bite my nails, but I don't even do that any more." -Dorothy Parker. i think i'd adore her. i think i'd abore her.

~'Words so Leisured', by Franz Ferdinand because it's a confused-reverence/observation about a clever woman.

~The Secret Life of Words, i love her silence. i love her methodical way. i loathe the reason. crimes against women.  never explanation, never justification. neverending.

hi gang. pull up.

i don't feel much like writing.  did you know that reading this blog also gives you free access to dee ann's Contributions to Crappy Copy?

it's true, and it's free.  i write for men's clothing.  it's a supreme-o job and i dig it, but sometimes, when i have to write for crewneck #79 that looks like crewnecks  #1-78, i've got to break out and do a little bit of stream of consciousness. 

every now and again, i'll submit it here as i'm sure to get sacked if i submit it there.  

sleep, my friends.  sleep as much and long as you can.  and don't sleep with those you love. cheers and i continue to be thankful for my readers.

Triple-blend jacket
Hi. My name is jackety-jack. I'll be serving as your layer this evening, and any other evening that you don't take out your girlfriend because you're a lout. Pay no attention to the little spot of vomit on the sleeve. I don't even think it's mine--the vomit, not the sleeve. Two front button-flap pockets hold your cell phone and condom/cocaine packets. Make sure to write out the "they aren't mine!" excuse and practice it for when your girlfriend catches you. You can even keep your excuse in the button-flap pocket, but make sure to take it out so your g/f doesn't catch you a third time prompting you to come up with even one more excuse to explain the excuse. You know what? Relationships are complicated. Break up with her, but keep the jacket. It's nice.
The essential outer layer crafted in substantial cotton, wool and nylon provides warmth and style for every season.
Ribbed mock collar, cuffs and hem. Two front button-flap pockets.
86% Cotton, 10% Wool, 4% Nylon.
Dry clean.

Cotton crewneck
Why would anyone pay 45$ for something that's already faded? Why don't you just hand me the 45$ and I'll tell you what to wear. For starters, you're not fooling anyone with that sporty half-tucked shirt. You're old. Deal with it. Next, how about wearing pants that actually make you look like you have an ass? If your butt gets invaded by aliens who deflate it with supernatural hoses, then you have my permission to wear baggy-ass pants.
While we're at it, wash that shit out of your hair. Save "edgy" for the Grand god-damned Canyon.
Great on its own or as a layering piece, this comfortable go-everywhere shirt is a wardrobe essential.
Crewneck, long sleeves.
100% Cotton.
Machine wash.

'Healing is Difficult'

~'Henry Lee' by PJ Harvey and Nick Cave, because, as all things Cave, it's a tale of irrational beauty. youtube the video of those two and by the end of it you'll be thinking that they're the most gorgeous creatures on the planet. maybe they are.

~"The way I see it really doesn't matter/Why do you cock your head to the side when you look at me?"-Sia. she is a wise naif if ever there was one. Sia, if you're reading, i will clean your ears for free if you'd ask me.

~Head On, see PJ/Nick quote above.  i can't believe i don't own this movie already. it's a love story complete with a turkish chorus. when people find each other and all is right even with the wrong, hold on. for chrissake, hold on.

hi gang.  pull up a spell, sit for a drink.

i was going to go into a couple of complex topics tonite (complexity? in a frikken blog?), but thought better of it.  i'm just going to share musings.  for those of you reading, what are you still doing here?  and thank you.

 

i hate to combine these two topics, but before i get started on my useless rant, i'd like to draw your attention to my best gal, rachael.  bless her golden, bold heart, she's running 13+ miles.  if you're so inclined, visit the site that is dedicated to her ma.  donate if you can.  janette was a woman like my mom: worthy of extreme comfort, wealth and sainthood.  humility and generosity are underrated today, but they're traits that janette passed on to rachael and that's why i love her.  

http://www.active.com/donate/umbrellamarathon08/rachaelnike

go.  i feel i owe janette a lifetime of gratitude for her daughters.  it isn't right that she's gone. quite frankly, i'm pissed about it.  i can't...just...it's just too much all the time already.

next topic.  i was looking up grave sites of famous people.  i used to have a print out of billy wilder's tombstone at my desk because, i don't know, it just seemed whimsical.  so i found it again along with jack lemmon's and i thought i'd share.  then, i thought about what my tombstone would say.  since i'll be cremated and tossed in the ocean, or wherever the poor sod who is left with the task decides is convenient, i won't have one, but if i did have a tombstone, what would it say?

~blah blah blah

~what are you lookin' at?

~details, details

~it's not what you think

~one last good stiff one

~drop dead fabulous

~Godka

ok.  it's dumb.  but i'm tired and my appetite is nil. enjoy the pics.  i'm out.

cheers. i guess. clink. 

happiness is a warm spud

~'She's talking to someone (she's not talking to me)' by BR-549. great band. great name. perfect rockin' chair song for the hopeful lamenting.


~“Animal factories are one more sign of the extent to which our technological capacities have advanced faster than our ethics.” -Peter Singer. ain't it the truth?



~The Search for One-Eyed Jimmy because it is the finest ever ever ever performance by John Turturro. too brief, John, far too brief. hear me now.


hey folks, sit for a spell. knowing my unhealthy lust for french fries, my pal Lori said that i should blog about good places to get french fries. she wants to know where to get waffle-cut fries...i was lacking in recommendations, so now i'm on a tiny quest. i'm sure there are already several hundred tramillion fry-bloggers out there, but ok, Lori, here's a few off the top. and by the way, the pursuit is happiness.

Maxfield's -2 montgomery street inside the palace hotel. truffle oil fries. it's like if someone were to give you a 1954 corvette and it just happened to be your favorite color. fortune! truffle oil is earthy and ash-like. you don't necessarily taste the oil on your tongue, it's more of an aroma in your throat that you thank the spud gods for. they are not as greasy as one would expect- it's my understanding that they double-fry the spuds- but when they turn cold, you do get that sort of post-BJ film on the roof of your mouth. apologies for my indelicate comparison. that ain't puddin', folks!
http://www.maxfields-restaurant.com/

Hotel Utah - 500 fourth street. all you need if you want love in a basket. they are plentiful and delicious: slightly crispy in all the right places, a great tooth-feel and there's almost always at least one really long potato in every bunch. why is a long fry so exciting? because if you're eating them with someone you love, then you can give the Gift of Long Fry to your sweetie. there's no question that they use real potatoes. i've never had bad service at the utah, though it can get noisy. one time, the couple sitting next to me had a chihuahua in their laps. when they went out for smokes, they asked if i'd mind cradling the little angel. happy-making on top of happy-making.
www.thehotelutahsaloon.com

Brickhouse -426 brannan street. 'big ass fries' is what the menu boasts, but the basket isn't really as big as all that. it's still a fair amount and really all you need if you're filling up on a fat tire or seven. the fries are sometimes limp, the texture smooth, but they always arrive hot hot hot and brickhouse has a trunkload of hot sauces from which to choose. pretty important stuff in deeannland. two legs-up for friendly service.
www.brickhousesf.com

21st Amendment -563 second street. good, smooth texture. the chef performs some sort of hoodoo magic on them so there's no need to salt them when they arrive in front of you. some could find that annoying, but i'm a salted nut, so i don't mind a bit. they aren't greasy and the cuts are thick as a hitchhiker's thumb. they aren't, however, crispy either. a bummer in my book, but not a deal-killer. i will also note that 21st deserves a two legs-up for their onion rings: a delicate but determined crisp, hot, and the cuts of onions are substantial enough so that you don't get that weird slither that leaves you looking like you're panting with a flaccid onion tongue. they rival the fries, uh-huh.
www.21st-amendment.com


thank you, babies, for stayin' on. indulge a little. it's good for your soul. cheers. clink. chow.

pearly whites and spicy blues

~'White boots', by Stevie Ray Vaughn because it's a spicy little ditty and, weird teeth or not, Stevie was a god to me in high school.  Poor guy never got to meet me.

~"You have no idea what a long-legged gal can do without doing anything." -The Palm Beach Story

~Sweet Dreams: The Patsy Cline Story because Patsy was a true inspiration to me when i was growing up. she still is. and, for that matter, so is jessica lange.  a true beauty with a wonderful speaking voice.

hey gang,

recently, my company had an off-site picnic at angel island. couldn't have asked for better weather, great ferry trip to and from. the theme, loosely, was country/western complete with old timey photos, bluegrass music and a washboard band. the food was free, the beer free-flowing, but to me the best part was meeting Chyrle Bacon. Chyrle is a record-breaking cowgirl rope artist and, man, is she the real thing. what a broad! she was trained by Gene Autry and Will Rogers.
as i was walking around the island i heard people tittering about this lady with a cackle. to be honest, it didn't seem like they were being very nice. well, then i heard it: a cackle that would strip a porcupine. and then i saw her: a tall, bleach-blond in sizzling blue dress with hot-white fringe and dusty white cowboy boots. she was trying to teach the kids how to do rope tricks, and not with much success. she's an older gal, to be sure, but if i manage to maintain a figure like that when i'm up there in years, then hot damn!

i like to know people's stories. so i went up and marveled, maybe gushed a little, completely genuine. you'd have thought i just gave her a free side of beef, but she's the one who gave me a gift. what a smile; what a personable and gracious gal.

she said she'd love to open up a school for young girls to learn rope tricks and whip-cracking and i said Sign. Me. Up. not only is the act graceful, but as far as i'm concerned, give a girl a whip and watch shit get done, honey.

so yea, Chyrle did have a cackle and it was loud, but gosh, it matched her outfit.
check her out. thanks kids. have fun with your selves. laugh as much as you can.

www.cowgirlchyrle.com