Maybe There Isn’t Always Room For Jello
Prepackaged Jello Shots?
Good Lord. I don’t know if I should laugh or cry.
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I Can Now Return To Loud Guitar Music
Pete Townsend Charges Dropped
Ya see, The Who is pretty cool. Deep lyrics, amazing guitar work and a really, really loud rock and roll band. When the news hit last winter that Pete may be downloading kiddie porn, ala R. Kelly or Billy Wyman, I was very sad and despondent. But it seems his argument that he was reasearching child abuse for a book he is writing won over the evidence of credit card charges to a site that sells child porn. Authorities apparently never found any porn, just the credit card receipts. Townsend has claimed he was abused as a child and has been an active child advocate most of his life.
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15 feet from Denver And No Mayor In Site.
There is something romantic about a barkeeper mayor in a big western cowtown city.
Kind of a Gary Cooper image. Or more appropriately a James Garner image.
Support Your Local Micro Brewer.
I can see the movie now as our tall, skinny hero takes to city hall. Two barrels of freshly brewed beer, one under each arm and a large cigar in his mouth in celebration.
Ah but to dream.
But I will never get to feel the joy. I live in Arapahoe County. Crap. And the kicker is that the city line is on the other side of the fence in my parking lot.
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And Phyllis Isn’t Even On The List
I am puzzled about this year’s dead pool. Five months in and our nine stalwart members have none of their picks on the list whom have gone down for the count.
This is troubling.
Is the advance of science and a culture of good, clean living getting in our way? Have we no skill at picking the next to expire? Will Bob Hope ever pass on? These people may be living.
But.At.What.Cost.
We all spent a few hours, searching web sites, getting advice, catching up on current events to come up with our ten names, but to no success at this point.
Some people know that my sister is an experienced cereal serial killer and as such has the tools to not only get her to the top of the list, but to help all of us do. But in what a few years back seemed like a good idea, we enacted the now famous “Julie” clause that prohibits her from taking any lives on the list in an attempt to garner points. Sometimes I look back on that rule and just shake my head. “My God, man! What were you thinking?” I cry to the heavens. We need some action in this game. We need some points. We need to see some famous people go under the dirt to keep us entertained.
Now, for some people not in the mix of things, a celebrity dead pool is a gruesome thing.
“Roy,” they emplore, “This ain’t no way to get your fun.” They walk away puzzled and mumbling under their breath, unwilling to play life by a different set of rules.
Why does life have to be played by the rules of the famous at all costs. If a person has lead a famous life and has lead a life that seeks attention of others, why can we not enjoy that fame at their passing. Why does it only have to be at the hands of their press agents to determine when, why and where they are famous. A post-partum paparazzi is just as pro-celebrity as obsessing on the latest fashions walking down the red carpet. Except at death, no one gets to really determine how they are remembered except a few obit writers and a life’s legacy of accomplishments.
Looking at some of this year’s dead pool candidates we can expect some nice things to be said. Bob Hope will have an oozing obit and television retrospectives. Ronald Reagan will have a national day of mourning. His body will lie in state. World leaders and maybe even Al Gore will show up at his funeral.
On the other side of the list we have Augusto Pinochet, a ruthless dictator and warlord who’s passing will be celebrated with gun shots of happiness shot in the air down in Santiago.
Same thing with Reagan.
Warren Zevon is on a few lists. When a rock star passes we get a chance to put our life in perspective through song and realize our own mortality.
Zsa Zsa and Elli May Clampett are on the list. A chance to contemplate our childhood and growing up in the 60s and 70s.
Hold on, I need some coffee.
The meandering point I am making here is that a dead pool serves a much more important point in life than other vehicles of celebrity – a wedding, a motion picture debut, a cure for cancer – because when they die we reflect and get to think once again about “What if.”
In the great words of Gilda Radner – “What if Eleanor Roosevelt had wings?”
Indeed Gilda. What if.
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Keanu = Devil
On this the second Sunday after Easter, which according to the liturgical calendar is to focus on grace and goodwill, I bring you news that Keanu Reeves is the Anti-Christ. So before you go down to the multi-plex and sit down to the Matrix -Reloaded, beware you are watching the devil. With special comparisons of Keanu-isms and the book of Revelations. Pretty Funny.
Swiped from Catch.com
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Sedaris Sings Holiday
Last Week’s This American Life (A real audio download – sorry the only way to listen) features David Sedaris reading from Me Talk Pretty One Day, his latest collection of stories. It is worth a listen just to hear Sedaris do his Billie Holiday imitation. Act II is a bit by Sara Vowell talking about her hate/hate relationship with high school marching band. If you haven’t discovered Sara Vowell yet, well get on board. She is the funniest girl on earth. This is a rebroadcast of a 1998 show but still very, very fresh.
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Here I Come To Save The Day
You’ve got to love the British tabloids. Thanks, Fark! Kent, in England has a super hero who is posed in a cape and a mask and upsest criminal activities and swings from ropes to disperse gangs and returns purses dropped by little old ladies. Now, as a kid, I, like many little boys, avenged the neighborhood fighting crime in long underwear and a bed sheet fashioned as a cape. But this may be a bit much. The guy is probably a bit touched in the head.
One can never have too much help when it comes to fighting crime.
Friday Fives
1. Name one song you hate to admit you like.
8 Mile by Enimem. White boy rap isn’t really my thing but this guy has a voice that rings true. Grace Slick says he is the Dylan of her daughter’s generation. I can’t go that far but I still turn that song up when I hear it.
2. Name two songs that always make you cry.
Blue Eyes Crying In The Rain by Willie Nelson
Amazing Grace by any choir at a funeral
If these two songs don’t pull at your emotions, you are a vulcan.
3. Name three songs that turn you on.
Let’s Get It On by Marvin Gaye
How Can You Mend a Broken Heart by Al Green
Jungle Love by The Steve Miller Band (the first date song at a seventh grade dance)
4. Name four songs that always make you feel good.
Time Bomb by Old 97s
Rosalita by Springsteen
Welcome To The Jungle by Guns and Roses
Closer To Free by The BoDeans
This is the “driving-down-I-70-
from-Eisenhower-tunnel-cranked-up-loud mix.
It helps ease the traffic woes.
5. Name five songs you couldn’t ever do without.
This is hard. I am more of an album or artist guy and don’t think usually in terms of songs.
Lethal Injection by Slim Cessna
Born To Run by the Boss
Peace Love and Understanding by Elvis Costello
Big Brown Eyes by Old 97s
Take Five by Dave Brubeck
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“Ho Hos Are A Vital Part Of My Cognitive Process”
From Xander. This post is for Julie. Because now it is all her fault. My mornings are spent watching Buffy, the vampire slayer reruns. This is one of the funniest shows on television!. Pretty lame, I know, to discover this on their last season. But thanks to FX, it is on every day. I have years to catch up on.
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Putting It All Back Into Place
Slowly I plod back to my PC, back to my resume files, back to the classifieds. I promised myself that this entry level job at Finali wouldn’t be the be-all-end-all and would be used to get me a better paying position. But so far, I have only settled into a work-a-day routine and haven’t furthered my goals. It will be at least four or five more months until I can get a promotion here. The position isn’t satisfying, barely stimulating and I am capable of so much more. It isn’t a bad place to work. It isn’t a bad job, it just a very routine and tedious task driven position that I don’t do well at for long periods of time. I can’t quit without a safety net so I am saying it out loud. I am still looking. I shall keep ya posted.