Wednesday, 31 December 2008
Enjoy the song! Oldie but a goodie and from a Beatle.
Update: I braved the snow. I got the wee ones $70 worth of Chinese food, which we are about to sit down to, and spend the night playing games as a family. There was a card game we learned in the shelter that was very fun! For desert I have home made pie. I will have good wishes for all of you tonight. Stay safe, stay healthy, and happy tonight and the new year. And that was an order.
Sunday, 28 December 2008
N: Never never land or Narnia
Thursday, 25 December 2008
She was one fiery woman. To die on Christmas! So many people are mentioning Santa Baby in their tribute to her. She got kicked out of the country by LBJ for telling him the truth about Viet Nam. I remember a late night talk show in the '80's she was on. She talked about being kicked out of the country about her Cherokee grandmother and being a single mom. I thought back then "Wow, and to me she was always my favourite cat woman, now she's a role model!" I choose videos of songs other than Santa baby. I stopped at 3. I really could have gone on and on. I will let her talent speak for her. Followed is a news article I found.
O.k. I lied! One more, a Christmas song, that I liked better than Santa Baby:
Eartha Kitt, sultry 'Santa Baby' singer, dies
Thursday, December 25, 2008 5:46 PM EST
The Associated Press
By POLLY ANDERSON Associated Press Writer
NEW YORK (AP) — Eartha Kitt, a sultry singer, dancer and actress who rose from South Carolina cotton fields to become an international symbol of elegance and sensuality, has died, a family spokesman said. She was 81.
Andrew Freedman said Kitt, who was recently treated at Columbia Presbyterian Hospital, died Thursday in Connecticut of colon cancer.
Kitt, a self-proclaimed "sex kitten" famous for her catlike purr, was one of America's most versatile performers, winning two Emmys and nabbing a third nomination. She also was nominated for several Tonys and two Grammys.
Her career spanned six decades, from her start as a dancer with the famed Katherine Dunham troupe to cabarets and acting and singing on stage, in movies and on television. She persevered through an unhappy childhood as a mixed-race daughter of the South and made headlines in the 1960s for denouncing the Vietnam War during a visit to the White House.
Through the years, Kitt remained a picture of vitality and attracted fans less than half her age even as she neared 80.
When her book "Rejuvenate," a guide to staying physically fit, was published in 2001, Kitt was featured on the cover in a long, curve-hugging black dress with a figure that some 20-year-old women would envy. Kitt also wrote three autobiographies.
Once dubbed the "most exciting woman in the world" by Orson Welles, she spent much of her life single, though brief romances with the rich and famous peppered her younger years.
After becoming a hit singing "Monotonous" in the Broadway revue "New Faces of 1952," Kitt appeared in "Mrs. Patterson" in 1954-55. (Some references say she earned a Tony nomination for "Mrs. Patterson," but only winners were publicly announced at that time.) She also made appearances in "Shinbone Alley" and "The Owl and the Pussycat."
Her first album, "RCA Victor Presents Eartha Kitt," came out in 1954, featuring such songs as "I Want to Be Evil," "C'est Si Bon" and the saucy gold digger's theme song "Santa Baby," which is revived on radio each Christmas.
The next year, the record company released follow-up album "That Bad Eartha," which featured "Let's Do It," "Smoke Gets in Your Eyes" and "My Heart Belongs to Daddy."
In 1996, she was nominated for a Grammy in the category of traditional pop vocal performance for her album "Back in Business." She also had been nominated in the children's recording category for the 1969 record "Folk Tales of the Tribes of Africa."
Kitt also acted in movies, playing the lead female role opposite Nat King Cole in "St. Louis Blues" in 1958 and more recently appearing in "Boomerang" and "Harriet the Spy" in the 1990s.
On television, she was the sexy Catwoman on the popular "Batman" series in 1967-68, replacing Julie Newmar who originated the role. A guest appearance on an episode of "I Spy" brought Kitt an Emmy nomination in 1966.
"Generally the whole entertainment business now is bland," she said in a 1996 Associated Press interview. "It depends so much on gadgetry and flash now. You don't have to have talent to be in the business today.
"I think we had to have something to offer, if you wanted to be recognized as worth paying for."
Kitt was plainspoken about causes she believed in. Her anti-war comments at the White House came as she attended a White House luncheon hosted by Lady Bird Johnson.
"You send the best of this country off to be shot and maimed," she told the group of about 50 women. "They rebel in the street. They don't want to go to school because they're going to be snatched off from their mothers to be shot in Vietnam."
For four years afterward, Kitt performed almost exclusively overseas. She was investigated by the FBI and CIA, which allegedly found her to be foul-mouthed and promiscuous.
"The thing that hurts, that became anger, was when I realized that if you tell the truth — in a country that says you're entitled to tell the truth — you get your face slapped and you get put out of work," Kitt told Essence magazine two decades later.
In 1978, Kitt returned to Broadway in the musical "Timbuktu!" — which brought her a Tony nomination — and was invited back to the White House by President Jimmy Carter.
In 2000, Kitt earned another Tony nod for "The Wild Party." She played the fairy godmother in Rodgers and Hammerstein's "Cinderella" in 2002.
As recently as October 2003, she was on Broadway after replacing Chita Rivera in a revival of "Nine."
She also gained new fans as the voice of Yzma in the 2000 Disney animated feature "The Emperor's New Groove.'"
In an online discussion at Washingtonpost.com in March 2005, shortly after Jamie Foxx and Morgan Freeman won Oscars, she expressed satisfaction that black performers "have more of a chance now than we did then to play larger parts."
But she also said: "I don't carry myself as a black person but as a woman that belongs to everybody. After all, it's the general public that made (me) — not any one particular group. So I don't think of myself as belonging to any particular group and never have."
Kitt was born in North, S.C., and her road to fame was the stuff of storybooks. In her autobiography, she wrote that her mother was black and Cherokee while her father was white, and she was left to live with relatives after her mother's new husband objected to taking in a mixed-race girl.
An aunt eventually brought her to live in New York, where she attended the High School of Performing Arts, later dropping out to take various odd jobs.
By chance, she dropped by an audition for the dance group run by Dunham, a pioneering African-American dancer. In 1946, Kitt was one of the Sans-Souci Singers in Dunham's Broadway production "Bal Negre."
Kitt's travels with the Dunham troupe landed her a gig in a Paris nightclub in the early 1950s. Kitt was spotted by Welles, who cast her in his Paris stage production of "Faust."
That led to a role in "New Faces of 1952," which featured such other stars-to-be as Carol Lawrence, Paul Lynde and, as a writer, Mel Brooks.
While traveling the world as a dancer and singer in the 1950s, Kitt learned to perform in nearly a dozen languages and, over time, added songs in French, Spanish and even Turkish to her repertoire.
"Usku Dara," a song Kitt said was taught to her by the wife of a Turkish admiral, was one of her first hits, though Kitt says her record company feared it too remote for American audiences to appreciate.
Song titles such as "I Want to be Evil" and "Just an Old Fashioned Girl" seem to reflect the paradoxes in Kitt's private life.
Over the years, Kitt had liaisons with wealthy men, including Revlon founder Charles Revson, who showered her with lavish gifts.
In 1960, she married Bill McDonald but divorced him after the birth of their daughter, Kitt.
While on stage, she was daringly sexy and always flirtatious. Offstage, however, Kitt described herself as shy and almost reclusive, remnants of feeling unwanted and unloved as a child. She referred to herself as "that little urchin cotton-picker from the South, Eartha Mae."
For years, Kitt was unsure of her birthplace or birth date. In 1997, a group of students at historically black Benedict College in Columbia, S.C., located her birth certificate, which verified her birth date as Jan. 17, 1927. Kitt had previously celebrated on Jan. 26.
The research into her background also showed Kitt was the daughter of a white man, a poor cotton farmer.
"I'm an orphan. But the public has adopted me and that has been my only family," she told the Post online. "The biggest family in the world is my fans."
Associated Press Drama Writer Michael Kuchwara contributed to this report.
She had earlier baked them with her children. Chocolate Chip. It is their preferred Christmas or any time cookie. Each one had a bonus Hersey kiss in the middle. The children kiss each kiss before putting them in the cookie. It was their way of kissing Santa for the presents he left.
Three cookies. Three sticks of carrots. Three stocking hung on the wall with care.
Three empty stockings. Hung right there by the corner by the $25 special Christmas tree. Fake. The glade plug in behind it smelled of pine. She had got the tree on clearance after Christmas two years ago. That year she told the children Christmas was on December 27th. It gave her time to get a discount tree and toys. But they are a little older now and the schools clue them in to the right day.
She sits on the floor. She reaches for her long necked beer. Slowly. The six pack was her Christmas present. She bought it for herself shortly after a co-worker wished everyone get the presents they were hoping for.
The scene: The office Christmas meeting where no-one is paying attention to business. They all got a scratch ticket, candy cane and some candy in a small fuzzy stockings. This was what was left of Christmas bonus in corporate America. She is old enough to remember when it was not this way. She is smart enough to know that top 10 people in the company get hefty Christmas bonuses. She is wise enough not dwell on it. The woman. She barley knows her. She knows she has a husband with a good job. She knows she doesn't understand anyone else's life situation out side of her own. Then she says the words, as if every woman there had a husband, or one who cared to find out what she wanted and had been planing for weeks. Reality was most the women there were single mothers.
She got a pass.
It's Christmas Eve. 'Happy Christmas, you short sight bitch' she thought.
She doesn't often give careless short sight people words that stab to her core a pass. People without the understand or not. But she considered it her Christmas present from her. The 'Office Bitch' didn't put her in her place.
She left work without a word. No Christmas partings, no good cheer. Her supervisor was happy for her holiday gift, to keep her sharp tongue and any reminders that her life didn't work like that to her self.
She drove to the store of spirits and got her self some. The others who came to drown their sorrows between the party goers seemed more full of cheer than her.
On the ride home she listen to one of the same 10 CDs she had listened to since November 1st. That was the same day half the radio stations started playing Christmas music.
She wishes the t.v. would brake during this season of joy. She kissed her young children as she put on the latest Christmas special. She never put the claymation and sugary sweet holiday programs down.
She smiled and sang along when they sung the Christmas song they were practicing for their schools Christmas pageants. She could not go to a one of them. They understood. Mother worked hard, but was there for them when they really needed them. Anyhow their friend's mothers would tell them how great they were.
Kids adapt in ways adults don't often comprehend. When the other children's mother say "what a shame.", "Those poor kids" and "She could have taken one day off to show her kids THEY were important." The children shrug it off. There was the first year when little Susie kicked a few mothers in the shins and called them bitches. When Mother was called from work and heard what had happened she replied to the mothers who were outraged "Sounds like you are bitches. Want some ice cream Susie?"
But here, in her car, old, beat up, falling apart, this was her zone. In her zone Christmas didn't exist.
She used to love Christmas. Everyone used to who doesn't like it now she believes. But there are no presents for her. She can not get her children "that one great gift they want to get" and if she see one more commercial where a man buys his woman some fucking unrealistic piece of jewelry or a car she will throw the t.v. out the window. 'Do they really need to be told what to spend $30,000 or more on when they have that much to spend on their women?" For this was more than she made in a year. She wonders if the more money you have the less your ability to know the person you are suppose to love. She decides she will never loss that ability when she has that much money.
A month ago: She withdraws her Christmas fund. She had all the hopes to get the children a games system and 3 games for Christmas.
Winter's wind came early. The house got real cold. About then the oil ran out. She thought about the game system and the three games when she handed most of the money over to the oil guy with a smile and a thank you. She shut the door and began to cry.
She called her ex. She begged him for some of that child support he owed her. He spent a half an hour calling her a selfish bitch. You see he moved on and he had to buy presents for his girlfriend and new baby. She got called a gold digger and was told to get a lawyer if she ever wanted to see any of it. Then he laughed and explained how he knew how to hide it all anyway. All his money was untraceable. He was an electrician. He worked under the table. He had told her he never wanted to see 'those little leaches again' and 'they are probably not mine either.' . Around then she hung up. Tears were her constant companion this time of year. They were making her look old real quick.
"Divorce is never easy on the children."
To many people told her that over the last 3 years. 3rd Christmas since she felt as if she was alone. Her and her kids against the world. Oh she had friends. No-one she could count on when the chip were down. She learned to pretend while knowing the reality of the situation. It was a duality she believed other's did effortlessly. Or maybe they just didn't know.
The children adjust quickly. Most of their friends were from divorced family and those who weren't divorced yet were not conventional by any stretch of the imagination. She liked them most of all.
It was her who did not adjust quickly. She became a survivor. She would sing the song by Destiny's Child over and over again. It became a manual for her life. But it really didn't tell her how to go beyond that. She is realizing surviving is not living. She started searching other songs for divine wisdom. She has yet to find the right one. She just found one who told her to drink her money and start a fight. This is also not working out as well as hoped. Though, it dose make her feel better for a while.
"NANA NANA NA NA NANA NANA NA. So what, I'm still a rock star..." She sings while sipping her beer.
She knows she needs to stay away from Janis, Country music and the Blues. Some music was made for the self pity just broken up stage. She was past that. She was just not ready for any pop silly love songs yet. They still made her want to puke.
She puts in Fun House in the stereo and starts dancing to 'So What'. Sings off key and starts her second beer.
She stares at the 3 stockings and the tree without anything underneath.
Slowly she goes to the closet and takes out some bags and wrapping supplies.
3 small presents get wrapped . One for each one of them.
At work they had a toy drive. She had wanted to ask where they were giving out the toys every time she saw one her children would like. Her poverty stricken friends told her she should bring her children to the toys for tots Santa. It seems they always get great gifts for the kids there. They do. She has seen them every year. The kids don't know. They are happy with the toys. She felt it was begging. Begging for something that was a luxury. She was taught not to beg as a child. Don't even do anything close to begging. Don't ask, don't take when they feel sorry for you. Have pride.
She did have that. She had her pride. She was hoping she was teaching her children the same. She wonders if it was an outdated notion. Should she continue to deny her children for a pride her mother and grandmother taught her. No one seems to have it any more. You are not expected to. Then you are expected to act overly grateful. Pride in poverty was better.
She wraps 3 more boxes. She places them under the tree.
She remembers her grandmother talking about how the Salvation Army gave her grandmother and her great aunts and great uncles all oranges when they were children. That was their Christmas present. Her and her siblings got an orange and they were happy for it. Ever since they always gave money in the kettles. Even this year , she gave up her change to the kettles and bells. A tradition she told her children "there is always someone worse off than you."
The news on the television talked of a little boy that died in a fire. 'That poor mother, she is worse off tonight.'
Her family doesn't believe in divorce. She never knew anyone divorced in her family before. Now she knows why. They cut them off, they cut them out. It was like she didn't existed anymore to them. She went to huge family Christmas Eve parties. Uncles, Aunts, Grandparents, cousins and odd love interests or friends that tagged along. As soon as she could not work it out with her ex that stopped. One of her aunts quietly took her aside the first year without him and said "It would be so nice if you and your children were not here. You really are bringing us down. You could have tried harder to work it out, dear. And we just don't believe in divorce." She grabbed her children, took them out of that house and never talked to any of them again. Not that any of them made the effort to talk to her. No Christmas cards. Nothing. She ceased to exist.
Third long neck. 'That was the moment in time. That was the minute I started surviving and stopped living.' It's good to put things in time lines. She was an orderly person. Everything in it's place. Even her life events.
She opened up a bag of cheap Christmas candy. She evenly divided it among the 3 stockings. She topped each one with a candy cane, she had got at work and put a orange in each one.
The cleaning up was quick. Her bottles clinked as they got rinsed out in the sink. She looked it all over. Sadness still lingered in her. Shutting off the light she sulks off to bed.
Children awoke her, they brought with them the morning light.
"Santa came, Santa came, Mommy!" They chanted as they bounced on the bed.
She got up, and fell onto the couch. "Go on children, open your presents."
They all went for the bigger box first. Wrapping flying everywhere , she wonders why she bothered. What took 30 minutes to wrap took 3 seconds to unwrap.
Ah good they all liked their pajamas. "Do you like them?"
A round of "yes" came from the children.
On to the small ones.
A small electronic game each.
It was not a PSP or game boy or even an mp3 player. She felt incredibly guilty. But they were happy. It was as if they didn't notice.
"Do you like them?"
"Oh, yes, Mom! Can we have the stockings?" They knew candy was always in the stockings.
"Not until after lunch, dears, you know the rules. I will put on Christmas shows while I make breakfast."
"Can we have our Christmas oranges now?!" They shouted.
"Of course! Enjoy the juicy orange goodness. Happy Christmas, babies! Special chocolate chip pancakes are for breakfast."
A round of cheers came from the living room.
She sleepily walks into the kitchen to make pancakes. She hears them singing to the t.v. show. "You better not cry, you better not pout...."
Tuesday, 23 December 2008
Monday, 22 December 2008
Sunday, 21 December 2008
I found 2 videos. One a nice song. The other was interestingly showing where the symbols we often associated with Christmas came from.
Friday, 19 December 2008
Majel Roddenberry, widow of 'Trek' creator, dies
Thursday, December 18, 2008 6:15 PM EST
The Associated Press
By ROBERT JABLON Associated Press Writer
LOS ANGELES (AP) — Majel Barrett Roddenberry, "Star Trek" creator Gene Roddenberry's widow who nurtured the legacy of the seminal science fiction TV series after his death, has died. She was 76. Roddenberry died of leukemia Thursday morning at her home in Bel-Air, said Sean Rossall, a family spokesman.
At Roddenberry's side were family friends and her son, Eugene Roddenberry Jr.
Roddenberry was involved in the "Star Trek" universe for more than four decades. She played the dark-haired Number One in the original pilot but metamorphosed into the blond, mini-skirted Nurse Christine Chapel in the original 1966-69 show. She had smaller roles in all five of its television successors and many of the "Star Trek" movie incarnations, although she had little involvement in the productions.
She frequently was the voice of the ship's computer, and about two weeks ago she completed the same role for the upcoming J.J. Abrams movie "Star Trek," Rossall said.
Roddenberry also helped keep the franchise alive by inspiring fans and attended a major "Star Trek" convention each year, Rossall said.
"I think `Star Trek' will always be her legacy," Rossall said.
"Star Trek" and its successors often focused on political and philosophical issues of the day. Roddenberry and her husband, who died in 1991, believed in creating "thoughtful entertainment" and were proud of the show and the passionate devotion of its fans, Rossall said.
"My mother truly acknowledged and appreciated the fact that `Star Trek' fans played a vital role in keeping the Roddenberry dream alive for the past 42 years. It was her love for the fans, and their love in return, that kept her going for so long after my father passed away," her son said in a statement on the official Roddenberry Web site.
Born Majel Lee Hudec on Feb. 23, 1932, in Cleveland, she began taking acting classes as a child. She had some stage roles, then in the late 1950s and 1960s had bit parts in a few movies and small roles in TV series, including "Leave It to Beaver" and "Bonanza."
She met her husband in 1964 during a guest role for a Marine Corps drama he produced called "The Lieutenant." That same year, she was cast in the pilot for the "Star Trek" series as the no-nonsense second-in-command. The pilot did not appeal to NBC executives and a second pilot was made, although parts of the original later showed up in a two-part episode called "The Menagerie."
The couple married in Japan in 1969 after "Star Trek" was canceled. After her husband's death, Roddenberry continued her involvement with the "Star Trek" franchise.
She also was the executive producer for two other TV science fiction series, "Andromeda" and "Earth: Final Conflict."
Thursday, 18 December 2008
For those keeping track of the personal life: the wee ones and I are all safe, tree fell through mini van and electrical stuff didn't happen until yesterday morning. We tried to build a fire but the metal bit was broken. After we got the smoke out of the house I thought of the new title of my blog and the Robert Frost poem it came from and laughed. Mental note: Rename Blog 'Happy Fun Time After I Win the Lottery'.
On the bright side, the wee ones and I got to meet many of our town folk in the shelter. A fun adventure was had by all. The old ladies taught us some new card games and won all the money and M&Ms we had. I think they were hustling us now. DAMN sneaky old ladies will get you every time. I could swear Betty White was among them.
We are all very lucky, many people still don't have power in town and in the surrounding towns.
For the people who live in the North East part of the USA I give you Gogol... So human how was your black out? Don't forget to keep making merry!
Wednesday, 17 December 2008
Tuesday, 16 December 2008
Sunday, 14 December 2008
Saturday, 13 December 2008
As I am on Mum patrol and under great stress of the season of greed, I wanted to throw some laughs out there.
Enjoy my holidy of greed gift to you all.
Friday, 12 December 2008
Thursday, 11 December 2008
Monday, 8 December 2008
Thursday, 4 December 2008
(This young wife is so hot she doesn't even need a match to light his fire.)
Prepare yourself: Take 15 minutes to rest so you will be refreshed when he arrives. Touch up your makeup, put a ribbon in your hair and be fresh looking. He has just been with a lot of work-wary people. Be a little gay and a little more interesting. His boring day may need a lift.
Clear away the clutter: Make one last trip through the main part of the house just before your husband arrives, gathering up school books, toys, paper, etc. Then run a dust cloth over the tables. Your husband will feel he has reached a haven of rest and order, and it will give you a lift, too.
Wednesday, 3 December 2008
Friday, 28 November 2008
Thursday, 27 November 2008
Monday, 24 November 2008
Monday, 17 November 2008
She felt broken. She drank in the night. Her coat was long and wool and dark as the darkness around her. The night is cold. She feels it to her very soul. She wishes she couldn't. But every time the bitter wind whips and freezes off part of her crack self she feels better.
Well better is a relative term. One that in this case means pain make pain not feel so lonely in empty heart.
She sit under the tree in the dark. She wants to be invisible.
She looks around.
'I'm alone in a park in the dark, black night. Isn't this how horror movies start?'
She opens the black case and lifts open the Laptop.
She goes to her my-space page. She reminds her self free wifi in the park.
An old disheveled man walks by.
"Broken heart, dear. It will mend quick enough at your age. You are too good looking to stay that way for long."
She smiles a polite smile. Thinks of a book she read that talked about angels that give you messages from people you never see again.
She writes a poem. An epic poem of pain and love lost and well, pain and more pain. She already forgot the old man.
The poem floats from her heart to her fingers, bypassing her mind.
She hits enter and posts it for the world to see. Her heart all over the zeros and ones of the virtual world. She already had 3 virtual boyfriends. This one was her second real one. She prefer fake ones. 'Sex is better with flesh and blood, though.'
She logs on to Adam and Eve to see what the non-flesh and blood verity offered. She ordered a pink with silver sparkle vibrating penis that reminded her most of his. If his penis was neon pink with sparkles in it size and shape matched, though. She added a few other items guaranteed to satisfy into the cart. She made sure she included items that would work if she meet a nice girl. 'I could switch teams. Girls do it all the time. Clown fish do it, frogs do it, even pregnant men do it, lets do it, lets change sex. La, la ,la.' She hits enter on the final check out button.
She checks her email. Nothing but an ad from a company that the government is bailing out. 'He's not writing. He wont write. Why do I keep looking?' A huge sigh escapes her mouth. She starts to shut the cover down, but hits check mail one more time. Nothing.
"Didn't write, didn't text, didn't IM, didn't call and he's not going to. Not until you have pined enough and started to move on. Then he will call for a hook up, because you will be easy and it will fuck you up. Then he wont call, email. text or IM. It will be his last final revenge for you going on."
Dark shadow in the dark night.
"Fuck off." She shouts.
"Why don't you fuck me? I would treat you better."
She stood up and leaned against the tree, old and sturdy.
"No-one knows you better. No-one else have held you when you cried over other men. No-one else would hold your hair as you barfed what was left of your dinner of gross foods. What ever possessed you to want to challenge them to that?"
It moves closer.
"No-one knows you better. No-one knows you sing ABBA when you think no-one else is looking. Take a chance on me."
"How did you know where to find me?"
"It was easy. You always come here when your heart brakes. When you cry, when your soul shatters time and time again...
It was where we meet. You puppy just got hit by a car. Then your father hit you for waisting his money on a puppy."
"You don't know me."
"I know you better then you know you know yourself. I am he. I am your soul mate."
"Yeah, how can you be so sure, asshole?"
"Because you always come back to the place we first kissed to comeback to center."
The shadow now moved in closer and faster. Hand cupped her check and lips meet lips.
"I am not 12 anymore." She looked into his eyes, they eyes she looked at for 20 years.
"Neither am I. " He rested his forehead on hers still clutching her check.
"You kiss better."
"So do you."
Friday, 14 November 2008
Thursday, 13 November 2008
Sneaking on to the Internet for the first time in a long time. This has become a busy time for my wee family. School, sports, work, homework, baking. Oh, apple crisp is ready. I have whip cream too. The wee raccoons are waiting as we talk for their afters.
Anyway, I open up to my home page and this is what I see:
Anne Hathaway's ex-boyfriend not enjoying prison
I started laughing.
Reminded me of Carlin. He might have said:
Of course not, if it was enjoyable, we'd all be holding up grandma to get in.
Have a good weekend!
Friday, 24 October 2008
Just in case you are wondering, my stories might get sicker as they go on. But it is going along with the horror genre. That and some sick stuff I have seen on the Internet and news and Japaneses Horror films. As the holiday stories go on, please don't wonder about my thought process or what I might have experienced. I know I have said that before. The thought did cross my mind as I was mapping out some more stories.
Thursday, 23 October 2008
For those who read this blog, hopefully you have seen a seasonal theme going on with my last two stories. I may have a few more horror and supernatural ones in me. Remember creative people like feedback even if it is criticism of one's work. You can leave it on the appropriate post.
So for now I am phoning in with a David Bowie live song. I used to love this back when I was a kid. It kind of goes with the first of the seasonal stories I wrote. There is a bonus of Fashion with Scary Monsters. Seriously, those who follow fashion to the extreme scare me. You know the Paris Hilton crowd. I'd rather be the fashion maker. I wonder when this leather corset is going to come back in vogue? I can't believe my boss keeps buying the line "It's warm and the cold weather's here". I think he is afraid to ask about the breastplate. HEE HEE.
I will try to write or put up something seasonal everyday until the great candy holiday is over. In other words, I will be too busy scraping the wee ones off the ceiling from their sugar high.
Monday, 20 October 2008
This bar so far from home.
She looks good enough in her tight jean with her lover's name still in them .
She wears her shirt low enough to attract attention.
The hunter sees her intended prey. Her blue eyes narrow in a little. She formulates five or more plans in the matter of seconds.
Her lips part. Perfectly coloured, a dark pink , not quit red, still on this side of respectable from slut. But very close to zero to be redeemed by it.
She walks towards the bar stool with a little swing to her hip.
She thinks of those belly dancing classes they took together. They do come in handy at times. And they tightened her abs so nicely. Those classes remind women how to ooze sex when they had gotten to an age and a weight that they forget. She briefly thinks of a very large woman. She had just turned forty. She looked as sexually dead as she felt. By the end of the 8 weeks Miss Living Large at Forty had her self a beau. Every woman should be require to take those classes.
She takes out her IPhone. Opens up 'to do list' and types 'get BD gift certificate for Jennifer's BD and remind her you are going too'.
She tucks the IPhone away and smiles at the bartender as if they were old friends.
"Lonely tonight, Honey?" He says, knowing he's never saw her before.
"Just broke up with my loser boyfriend, need to find some comfort.... one way or another."
And she sits down. Purposely two seats from her prey. Best not to let her seem to eager. Eager is the downfall of many a huntress. She was taught by Artemis herself. But that was yesterday and a million of those at that.
"What will you have tonight, to south that broken heart of yours?"
"Actually, I will be back in a tic. I want to put some music on." She says with a smile. they both knew it was time for the men to gather around and buy the drinks for her at hopes for some rebound nooky.
She sways to the Jukebox and pick five tunes from the classic rock and county selections.
As she turns around to sway back...
"Please allow me to introduce myself, I'm a man of wealth and means.."
The desired result. The biker boys playing pool look over their shades with the sly smirk of the satyr, the old drunks just lear outright, and the prey starts planing his next move.
In real life he is far too old for her. But this isn't real life. This is bar life. The rules don't apply. They never applied when loneliness and alcohol mix.
He is not hansom. He is not hansom, did I mention that. That never kept him from believing he was at least an 8. She was really an 8. She thought she was a 6. Right now she knows she is channeling Aphrodite and she is a 10.
She sits down, as predicted there are already 3 drinks waiting for her. One beer, one red wine, one whiskey sour. She looks at the 6 who was 2 seats down but is now right next to her. She picks up the whiskey. He smiles a somewhat missing tooth here and there grin.
It must have shown on her face. He felt a need to explain.
"I'm going to get that fixed as soon as that bitch gets off my back about child support. I'm getting a job under the table then she'll see she couldn't live without me! I will get my teeth fixed then. wont be long, I am a work in progress! Anyhow the new job pays almost twice as much as the last one. I am about to be rolling in it. And it's all mine. " he says as he swigs the beer that some other guy bought for her.
"She must have been a real piece of work!" she says with a smile.
"Yup. I earned the money while she sat on her fat ass plopping out another pup ever 2 years. HA. I should have had the boiiiitttch fixed a long time ago. She kept having just so I could support her fat ass for the next 15 years. Now she will have to figure out how to live without her ATM machine. I don't even think some of them are mine."
"She sounds like a winner. Why'd you stay with her so long?"
"You know, she trapped me with the kids and she wont even let me see them any more. She has turned them against me. Every time I call, they say they don't want to see me. Well, fuck them, I should have beat some real respect into them when I had the chance. She lets them run the place. She can deal with the disrespectful little shits now."
"I'm Jenny, I could tell you whole bunch of shit about my lying cheating lazy arsed boyfriend." She drinks.
With an inward smirk comes to her as James brown starts up. "It's a man's world...."
And all the men smile. They sing it out. Yet they forget the part 'it wouldn't be nothing without a woman or a girl'. The women don't.
It helps set the mood. Relaxes the prey. There is no way he believes he is anything but the hunter.
"I NEVER cheated on that bitch!" he proclaims. "you can trust me never to do that to a woman. Sure I got lots of women friends. They are better to tell your troubles to. But I never fucked them. But she was always jealous. You're not one of those jealous types, are you babe?"
"Naw. I didn't even know something was happening until this bitch showed up at my door with a baby that looked just like his baby picture. I am a very trusting person. I give all my heart. That's why it breaks apart so hard."
"You know, I can help pick up those pieces for you." He smiles. He thinks he's Prince Charming with a side of fries. But he smells like Axe with a side of old piss.
"Give us another." he orders the bartender.
Time for the next song. ' I like my town, with a little touch of poison....' who knew they would have the soundtrack to shriek 2 in there. Too much to ask they would have Tom Waites. But it served the mood.
"Hey, babe, I'll be back, have to drain the dragon." He swaggers towards the toilets.
The drinks come. "You can do better than that, hon. You can do better than anyone in this bar. Please don't go anywhere with him." The bartender look was that of fear and pity for her.
She looks at him. She had to look hard at him. She was relieved to see a man who looked out of those who were in their weak moments. "I am a grown woman! I can take care of myself!"
She closed her purse, as she was searching for something in it, takes the drinks holding them by the top and goes to a table. She places the whiskey in front of her seat and the mug of beer in front of the empty seat.
"Cold, late night so long ago when I was not so strong you know. A pretty man came to me I never seen eyes so blue...." Number 4 on her hit parade.
And right on cue he comes back to the bar. He looks confused. He gets a little look of anger in his eye. The bartender bemused points over to the table where she is smiling on of those some hither smiles you see only in the movies. He smiles and saunters over to her as he sings. "He's a magic mannnnnnn, oh yeah."
She smiles as if she has been impressed. "Come sit and see if you can drink me under the table?"
She turns to the bartender "Three more of these each!" She smiles back at him.
"I'm game." He thinks he's already made her.
The drink the drinks at the table first.
"Let's make this fun. You have to tell something personal before each drink. Something the other would never expect." She smiles.
"Sure, babe, you go first."
"O.k., I stole my last lover from my former best friend."
"Ohhhhhh... that is hash. My kind of woman. Drink up, sugar." She's a spicy one. Can't wait to see what tricks she has for me later. Hope I don't get her too drunk.
"You're turn, magic man!"
"I stole my wife's inheritance and bought myself a truck with it. I deserved it."
"That you did, drink up buddy boy!"
And he does. Quicker than she thought.
"Your turn, pink bunny girl."
"I'm off the grid. I don't exist."
"Ha ha ha, What ever you say bunny, bunny. Drinky, drinky." And she does.
"Your turn... one more secret."
"I liked to ram it up her ass. It was the only hole that was tight enough. Once I even hide a camera and put it up on one of those armature porn sites. I got 13,952 hits. Hey I was a porn star!"
"That you are drink up, bottoms up."
And he does.
"You're turn, little pink pony" He smiles and sways. He's breathing slightly labored.
'Mary Anne and Wanda were the best of friends All through their high school days Both members of the 4H Club Both active in the FFA After graduation Mary Anne went out lookin' for a bright new world Wanda looked all around this town and all she found was Earl'
"This is my last song. And my last drink."
He smiled a horn dog smile.
She stands. Smiles. She leans into him
And whispers in his ear " I just killed you. Ketamine. You'll be dead soon. And your wife sends her regards."
Stands up again. Before he could say anything. She says loud. "I am a lesbian as of this minute. You convinced me to bat for the other team!" She drinks down her drink. Turns to leave and winks at the bartender all in the twirl. And walks out the door.
He was already staggering to stand and scream the words he was forming before she renounced men. "You BITCH! I'll kill you! You will never know when! You BITCH."
The bar room was already laughing. So loud and hard. No-one really paid him any mind as he fell back in his chair. The horror hallucinations in his mind hitting over and over to new heights. And all he could hear was the words of the song bleeding out his ears.
'Earl had to die Goodbye Earl We need a break Let's go out to the lake Earl We'll pack a lunch And stuff you in the trunk Earl Well is that all right Good Let's go for a ride Earl hey.....'
She had had already driven away. She was down the highway signing the words away. "Well the weeks went by and Spring turned to Summer And Summer faded into Fall And it turns out he was a missing person who nobody missed at all..."
She picks up the cell phone, puts on the blue tooth, dials the numbers. " Hey, Hon, can you make sure and tell her to wait a few days before she signs the divorce papers. "
At closing time, the bartender tries to wake him from the chair. He falls over.
"I knew the guy would drink himself to death sooner or later."
Friday, 26 September 2008
Everyone get your go-go boots, peace medallions, boas, colourful clothing, paisley and flowers, were you hair wild and free and let's all watch Emily Play.
Thursday, 25 September 2008
My oldest daughter showed me this, I thought the young lady was delightful. What goes better with birthday wishes than old cake we have all seen before with different icing. Hey birthday cake is birthday cake unless it's Eddiefide!
I realized the clip was gone, sorry. Funny kid, check her out!
Monday, 15 September 2008
Wild, my life is pretty wild with my wee ones so this was an easy week, full of lots of photos. Seriously I did cut back on the amount I wanted to put on. Realize I have a lot more that could go in this category when you think I put 5 too many in.
Sex can also be romantic as damselflies demonstrate. Now if I could make a heart shape while copulating it would be cool.
Never tell a tiger to "bite me".
Bird with the catch of the day. It was here earlier.
Kitties like playing.
They are going for the 69. A position discovered in 1969. Very popular in the movies and magazines. You need to see Everything's Illumated to get that refrance. Redbeard has probably seen it, being a Googol fan.
Friday, 12 September 2008
Thursday, 11 September 2008
Tuesday, 9 September 2008
Saturday, 6 September 2008
We had glorious plans.
Plans included sun and summer like activities, while it was still hot enough.
But damn you weather!!
~ Shakes fists twards the heavens ~
All is not lost.
The children are back in school.
This means my older wee ones come back with all sorts of new things their friends shared with them on line.
So me and my wee ones lit some spooky candles. We made some healthy broccoli and potatoes from the garden, and went to ye olde computer.
The following is some of the twisted things we have been enjoying. You many end up getting far more twisted you tube stuff over the week. For it was far too much fun not to share.
Warning!!!!!!!!!!!! young sensitive children should not watch. Twisted children like my own, it is fine for.
I hope you enjoy it as much as we did.
Happy rainy days everyone!
Sunday, 3 August 2008
She never seen them before. They are still are everywhere. As far as her eye could see. She turns around. They are there too.
They bring her great joy.
She giggles as she runs through them unsteadily.
They surround her and whip around her as she runs. And they kiss her face as she puts her hands down to stop her from hitting the ground. She still giggles. Straighten herself out and runs unsteadily again.
Reaching her hand out she starts tugging at their thick stems. With much effort it snaps. She does it over and over until she is carrying 23 of them. She puts them to her nose as if they smelled of some great perfume. But they barley smell at all except for green.
But she had seen woman do this on the television. So this must be how people act.
She giggles and runs again.
She is grabbed from behind and now she is flying through the air.
She laughs harder.
As she swings around to see it is her mother who has her she smiles and hands the flowers out to her. They also do this on television.
Her mother smiles. "We will put them in a vase. But it is time to come in now, munchkin."
She always seems to be tired. She works all day than works all night. It never stops. No vacations, no time where is is just her. All she knows some days is the need to survive.
She looks at her children. They don't realize. She doesn't clue them in. They will know soon enough. She hands her youngest daughter off to her oldest daughter.
She turns and gets out pans and food and spices and things she always wondered what they were for in her own mother's draws. In fact, they were her mother's thing-a-ma-bobs. She learned somewhere in the early years of cooking for a family. But that was a lifetime ago.
She barks orders. As she works on the night meal. She barely looks up, only to see if the tasks are not being done.
One sets the table, two argue, now three. One empties the trash, one does the dishes, one does the homework which she is helping with. You would think they multiplied in seconds. But they don't they just can multi task like her.
She pours the juice into a sippy cup. She chops some more. Add this, add that. Casseroles were invented in the 50's, she thinks. At least the old adds from Bette Crocker, cream of mushroom soup, bacon bits, baby peas, corn flakes and so many others that her grandmother would clip and save. She had a recipe tin. Not a normal one, an old tin from cookies she loved.
Casserole, is quick and home made. She gives her self a mental pat on the back for not stopping for fast food. This 30 minute ritual makes her feel superior to all those who stop for chicken nuggets and pizza on the way home each night.
She really doesn't see the other's as bad mother, the fast food nation mothers. She just feels one one peg higher. She secretly smiles to herself when she says goodnight at the end of the day as she leaves work and the next day she always tells them of the great meal she made the night before. Sometimes she eat the left overs at lunch. The fast food nation women feel one or more peg above her because they can afford lunch from a restaurant everyday and do not have to resort to eating left overs. In fact they never would. They would go hungry first. They were always taught it was a sign of poverty.
They eat, and fuss and fight and talk and compete with each other and drink and eat and talk of their days. She makes notes when she has to. Principles that need to be called. Doctors that need appointments to be made with.
Finished they clear dishes of the table. She once again assigns the tasks at hand. She makes the desert and promises if each task is done they will all get some while they settle down and watch their favourite show.
She hands her youngest daughter off to her oldest. "can you hose her down and put on her jammies?"
She takes your youngest sister. She is tired of having to play mother to her younger siblings. She decides right there and than at 13 never to have children. They are far too much work.
She has been told she is a young woman now. All because she started to bleed. She wonders what the big deal is about. Just so I can have these screaming monsters? No thanks!
She starts the water. Starts to undress the little girl. A lot of screaming ensues from both parties. Mother yells. The little monster looks at her as if she won.
"I'll get you" she grits her teeth. Her mother yells again about how she talks to her baby sister. "BUT SHE WON'T GET UNDRESSED!" she screams back. She puts on her favourite CD in the stereo in the bathroom to dull the pain of this chore.
By the times she turns around the child is in the bath with her diaper still on. The shower is raining on the child and the diaper is growing every second.
Struggling to get diaper off . It starts falling apart. "GROSS!" As she runs it to the trash. As soon as her mother sees her she admonishes her for leaving the baby alone.
She runs back into the shower. The child has already gotten into her special body wash. the one with Jasmine that she had to beg her mother for 3 trips to Target before she wore her down. It was already half down the drain. How was she supposed to smell of jasmine now.
The baby just giggles as she has her fingers in the soap on the bottom of the tub. "BUBBLES!".
"NO!" she takes the shower head down and wash away her body wash. The child cries. "Bubble bath!"
"Now shower. No bath tonight."
"Bubble bath!" the child says as she flips the switch taking the water out of the shower head.
How did she do that? That's not easy. "No shower. and don't touch it again!"
She switches the lever back and positions herself so the child can not switch it again.
Much screaming ensued.
And mother screamed back.
She reaches for the baby's wash and opens it. It smells of lavender. "Open your hand, so you can wash." The child eagerly does, she prefers to wash herself.
After the soap up she hoses down the baby. to much screaming. She finds no warning in the best. Quick, you must be quick or it will take all night. When there are no more bubbles coming off the little body she quickly shuts off the water so no more playing, no more stalling.
She grabs the baby's favourite towel. She holds it out and cajoles the child with it. This towel has been in the family since her mother got it on the baby shower for her oldest child. And so every child has been tricked out of the tub with this towel. She laughs to herself as she remembers when she was a little girl and had this same towel wrapped around her.
The child comes out of the tub. the towel goes over the head and wrapped around her.
She reaches for a comb. Purple. It's the baby's favourite colour. She gets to the head. takes the towel off the head. brings the comb down and the babe scream. And runs. Leaving the towel behind.
She takes off after the child, naked and now dancing in the living room to the music coming from the bathroom. Some one makes a joke about her future profession as a pole dancer. That was about the time mother had enough.
"Where is this child's undies and jammies?" She just looks at her. "Get them now, I will dress her."
She goes and gets the child's clothes. Hands them off. Retrieves her CD from the CD stereo. Gets her CD player and goes to her room.
She falls asleep to her favourite sounds of teenage angst. She wonders when she will be able to complain about boyfriends. She thinks never as she will always be watching her little sister. She turns over as the band plays on.
Saturday, 2 August 2008
Monday, 26 May 2008
Friday, 9 May 2008
A long time ago, in no place that resembles here and there.
There is a older woman, a noble woman, a slightly drunk woman,who is too old to care, for she knows she is slightly past the expiration date that is stamped on the inside check of her posterior.
She drinks the good stuff. She has no need for the cheap stuff.
She remarks to a young woman drinking cheap booze at the bar "what is the point dear? It taste like piss and doesn't do the job right. Be a woman of class, drink class out of the glass, than men of class will approach you." she looks at the scruffy thing by the young woman's side. He has all of the attitude but none of the money or experience to back up is cocky airs. "You can do much better, with a face and figure like that."
She goes back to her entourage of good looking gay men and older men who interest lay more in her bank account than her body.
But in her day, in the days of her youth and beauty and firmness of the fleshy parts, she was a catch. She was the one the young men of best breeding wanted for their wedding beds. She outlasted 4 of them. She divorced 2 more. War made her a portfolio. An auto crash made it grow. Alimony, heart attack, and alimony again and one drowned at sea all kept it growing more. She had the brains to keep it to herself and make it blossom from seeds to a fully cultivated garden. She made sure none of the step kids got their share, her share. She made sure grieving mothers, ex wives, sisters and brother all were kept at bay.
In other words, she worked hard for the money. "A whore by any other name is a devoted wife of an older rich man." She said as she laughed at her own wit. The groupies laughed with her, watching her every move.
She could see in their eyes, they wanted to eat her up. Her wit, her experience, her brashness, her tall tales of lovers famous and not, her money if she let them. But they never wanted her fully, but in this moment it matters not.
The expensive liquor flowed into her glass. "The fountain of youth. Doesn't make you younger, but makes you not care."
Dashing young man, perfectly groomed takes her hand and dances her away. Her thought stray, he is lovely, he is hansom, he smells great, and he is defiantly gay. Oh, yes, he is Franklin's latest conquest. This one better last more than a week. He dances divinely.
At this age. In this circle. Only the men are picking up young lovers. But she is ever so glad they share them with her, she has made peace with it. Besides she always has a dance partner.
He dances her over to a young couple so in love, she could puke in her purse. The young man leaves to retrieve more from the bar. She says to the young woman "love is intoxicating, but the hangover is a bitch". The young woman just looks in her empty glass wondering if she can drink the last drop. "Trust me I have drunk from that glass too many times." She smiles at her young man one last time.
" Take me home, Franklin's new fling," she whispers in his ear. As the waltz towards the door while the young woman thinks "I hope I can get beautiful me when I am her age." She has yet to developed her ability to detect the third sex.
Walking up the steps to her brown stone, stumbling feet never fall with a young man by your side. A flat full of old memories drinks her in as if it was a house plant neglected for weeks. She is a physical piece of this place. It knows her best of all. She doesn't have to hide from herself within its walls. She is where she belongs.
The young man, looks around, stares at the wall of men. Some are photos and some paintings of all her men. Some are older than others. Some are Stauncher than others. And one looks at her, as if he never wants to stop looking at her even when time has gone by and both are on the other side of middle age. The young man takes the photo off the wall.
And waits with a smile for her to reappear from her dressing chamber.
Unceremoniously she returns, make up washed away, wig on it's mannequin, without undergarments that holds everything in a place they used to be and pink fuzzy bathrobe wrapped around her, slightly tattered.
The young man looks up from the photo and still smiles at her, as if she was still as young as the photo. " Grandpa was really in love with you, Grandma."
She smiles "Put that photo back, you can have it when I am dead. I already wrote your name on the back."
He looks at the back, sees his name, deposits the photo of the young couple back on the wall .
"Now give us a kiss on the cheek and get back to Fredrick before rumors start." she said lifting her very thin eyebrow.
Monday, 5 May 2008
I was at a traveling zoo today with the wee ones. The younger wee ones loved it, the older ones did too, though they complained the whole time, as teens will.
Well there were squirrel monkeys. I thought of Sparkle. I only had my phone with me so the photos are not what they could be.
The older ones did the Eddie Izzard act about squirrels and make up and leavening the gas on.
In case you don't know it, here it is.
Hopefully I figure out how to get the photos in here.
Friday, 2 May 2008
So if you are going and don't want to ruin the show, DON'T LOOK~~!!!!!
But if you wish you could have gone, here's some video from several shows, some pre tour, but it was in the show. So have fun.
Next post Boobie goodness. This Post Eddie Goodness!
This was part of the ark bit. I notice it changed from the show I saw.
This was a pre Stripped show. I think it might have been RI.
Tuesday, 29 April 2008
He was 'the dog's bollocks'.
It was a good mix of college kids and older folks.
Some yelled out "I love you Wayne!"
And he looked down shook his head and said "I told them in Europe you understood irony. Don't prove me wrong!" HA HA HA.
Very funny. I resisted watching the Youtube stuff from his practice runs. I wanted everything to be new. Hopefully he makes a DVD like the last tours and we can rerun it over and over again.
I am still so hyped up on Eddie, I am to wired to sleep. Usually I am tired by now. But the Eddie goodness is like caffeine right into my veins.
One couple had brought their teenage kids. I thought it was great they got into it. I saw people who were grandparent age too. It was nice to see the diversity. There were people of all ages and colours having a great time. It was lovely. It seems so many acts are racial divided, still. That when I see a mixed crowd and mixed age all laughing at there not being a god it is all good.
I think only in a blue state will you get a great applause over saying there is no god. I wonder if he will change that for the red states.
It was a bit of a ride, but well worth it. The place was sold out. And the theater is so small. Meaning the seats are close, and everyone is cramped. It's an old theater. I had seen other acts in old theaters. I was glad this one had air conditioners that came on. Last time I was in an old theatre, it was in the hottest day of August that year, 500 people no air conditioners, because they were too old and you couldn't hear the band if they turned them on. But we forgot all about that and got drunk and sang along to the band. Funny how somethings that normally drive you nuts , can ad to the atmosphere in other occasions, and add to the story.
But if anyone is going to see Eddie this tour, other than saying he was his normal brilliant self, I wont ruin the jokes. It's part of the fun, for it all to be new. But it is worth the buckage to have some hours of laughter.
Lois, if you read this, you got to catch him!
And don't yell out "I love you Wayne!"