My Sister's Office Halloween Costume

For Halloween this year, my sister's office dressed up like their boss (who has spiky hair, a fondness for Hawaiian shirts and has his arm in a sling).

Want to Hear Something Weird?

Saturday night when we left the Halloween party downtown, Bonnie, Our Knight In Shining (Silver-Cloth-That-Sort-Of-Looked-Like) Armor and I walked to my car to leave. I got behind the wheel and the car wouldn’t start. I tried again. Nothing. It didn’t even make that click-click-click sound a car makes when the battery is dead.

Bonnie and Jack start going down the list: “Did you leave your lights on?”

“No, they turn on and off automatically.”

“Did you leave the inside light on?”

“No, even if I did, it shouldn’t have drained the battery in six hours. This is a Toyota. Toyotas don’t do stuff like this.”

Bonnie and I got out of the car and opened the hood because for some reason, we thought maybe someone had stolen my battery. It made sense at the time.

Bonnie said, “I know it won’t make any difference, but let me see if I can start it.”

Bonnie got behind the wheel, turned the key and the car started right up.

I said, “Fuck. Turn it off.”

I got out of the car, walked around to the driver’s side, tried to start the car. Nothing.

Bonnie and Jack started with the questions again. Did you do this? Did you do that? Put your foot on the brake. Put your foot on the gas. Put your foot on the clutch and the brake. Push the key in while you turn it. Don’t push the key in while you turn it. Nothing.

“I know how to start this car, dammit. I have started this car at least four times a day for the last two years. I know how to start my own freakin’ car.” However, I was beginning to have my doubts about that. I tried five or six more times and got nothing. I got out of the car and put Bonnie behind the wheel. VAROOM. It started right up.

“Fuck,” I said again.

Evidently, The Universe wanted Bonnie to drive. We dropped off Jack and when Bonnie and I got to my house, I said, “Let me try again.” Nothing.

I tried three times and one time it sounded like it would almost start then…nothing. Bonnie got in again and it started right up. At this point, our fear of carbon monoxide poisoning from starting and re-starting the car in my closed garage overrode our desire to try to figure out what the hell was going on.

Bonnie went home. I went to bed. I got up the next morning, went down to the garage and tried to start my car. It started right up. I turned it off and back on three times with no problems and I haven’t had any trouble starting it since.

What the hell?

JACK WINS SECOND PLACE IN A BEAUTY CONTEST!

Last night was the Brent Coon and Associates 5th Annual Halloween-Alien-Disco Party and the one and only Jack won second place in the costume contest. He was robbed by a Lunch Lady/Spaghetti Man combo. Isn't he lovely?

Terry and Dan

Laurie and Bonnie

Janice and Lonnie

Jack and his Coconuts/Horse

Lonnie

Laurie and Jack

Here's the slideshow...

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Lettuce Be

Tonight at Antone's it was Tab Benoit. He's one of our favorites. However, he didn't come on stage until after 11:00 p.m. which was somewhat annoying, especially on a Friday night when I'm tired before things even get started.

However, when he came onstage, he was more drunk than me which usually results in an interesting show. Sometimes it's bad interesting and sometimes it's good interesting but it's always interesting. Tonight it was good interesting and quite entertaining. Not that I'm encouraging such behavior but a performer under the influence sometimes goes into a zone that is indescribably surreal for both him and the audience.

Before I went out tonight, I had a long talk with myself forcefully convincing myself to only have a few drinks because tomorrow night is the big Crockett Street Halloween party and I want to be funky fresh for that. So, I had one margarita and two Smirnoff Ice which was just about right. Then my friend Melissa and I decided that, if we had one, just one, Black Russian, we would have the courage to go stand by the stage instead of sitting behind the assholes who were standing in front of us. (I had managed to get the primo table by the DJ booth, by the way.)

We drank our Black Russians but we never went to stand by the stage. The only affect I noticed was when we left Antone's, I was suddenly starving. I went up to the vendor on the street and decided I had to have a hamburger patty with cheese on it but I didn't want any bread and I only had $3.25 left.

I told the vendor, "I want that hamburger patty right there but I only want it on lettuce."

There was no lettuce. I didn't want lettuce. Lettuce was not even a consideration in my brain. I wanted to say napkin but, somehow, the word lettuce came out and I couldn't think of the word napkin. I was looking right at the napkins but I couldn't say the word.

The vendor looked at me patiently, as only people who are used to serving intoxicated people can do, and I said, "No, no, no. I don't want lettuce. I just want the patty...and the cheese. No bread. Napkin! I want it on a napkin! Yes, a napkin. Not lettuce. You don't even have lettuce. A napkin would be great."

She said, "I'll only charge you $3.00 for that."

I said, "That's great because I only have $3.25."

After apologizing profusely for the lousy tip, I took my napkin wrapped hamburger patty with cheese and ate it on the way to my car. That was the best damn hamburger patty with cheese I've ever eaten.

In Laurie's Brain - Blog Libs

1. Give me some words
2. Click on the words "Shots of Cuervo" at the end of the post to find the paragraph to insert your words
3. Leave your paragraph as a comment.

These are the words to give me:

• a color
• the name of another blogger
• a kind of tool
• a slang term for sexual intercourse
• a farm animal
• your name

My First Bad Restaurant Review

Tonight several of us from the office braved the raging rains and, later, raging flood waters to enjoy a few drinks at a restaurant not far from our office. A few highlights:

• Stephanie asked our waitress if the bartender could make a Cosmopolitan. The waitress said, "A what? A Cos-MO-politan?" Stephanie wisely ordered a Smirnoff Ice instead.
• Darlene asked what the "Rocky's Chicken" sandwich was and the waitress said it was a fried chicken sandwich. When it was ready, the waitress brought the sandwich to her and said, "They don't fry it anymore. Is that alright?" and placed the grilled chicken sandwich in front of Darlene. Darlene was a sport and ate the sandwich but the place was quickly losing it's already marginal appeal for us.
• Lela ordered a gin and tonic and was brought a drink which she said "didn't taste right." She gave it back to the waitress who promptly came back and told Lela, "We're out of tonic." They had deliberately substituted her tonic with God knows what and tried to get away with it. This was 6:00 p.m. and they were already out of tonic.
• Shannon ordered a Bud Light twice and got regular Budweiser twice. When one of the other girls ordered a Bud Light for Shannon, the waitress looked at Shannon and said, "Oh, you switched on me?"
• Christy tried to order a Macallan scotch from the waitress, gave up and went to the bar. After talking to the bartender and determining she didn't know a single malt scotch from a vanilla milk shake, Christy finally ordered a Glenlivet and water. Her second Glenlivet and water looked somewhat like Lela's first gin and "tonic." Sure enough, when it was time to order a third Glenlivet and water, we were told they were out of Glenlivet. At this point (it was only about 8:00 p.m.), Lela looked at the waitress and then looked at the bar and said, "You know that area over there (pointing to the bar), that would be a good place for a bar."
• From our table, we could see some tables set out on the patio with plates already on the tables obviously for some festive function. There was a squirrel scampering amongst and across the plates.
• When Stephanie and Lela bravely decided to try the Cosmopolitans after all, they said they were actually pretty good. The kicker was that, before they could get another one, the waitress had to take their empty glass to refill it. There didn't seem to be anyone else in the bar drinking out of martini glasses so we could only assume that the whole bar only had two martini glasses.
• The first stall in the ladies room was plugged up and had a HUGE floater in it. Once again, this was early in the afternoon and the place was not that busy.
• In the hallway on the way to the bathroom, there was a humongous dead roach lying legs up on the floor. In the three hours we were there (yes, we were only there three hours), not one single person on the waitstaff noticed the huge cockroach?!

We left in a torrential downpour. Stephanie and I followed each other home until I chickened out and pulled over into a parking lot at one point because I was afraid to drive any further. I called Stephanie after a while, totally prepared to spend the night in that parking lot, to see how far she got and she told me I had already driven through the worst of the flooding so I left my little island sanctuary and came home.

As always, the conversation and the gossip were good. Our venue choice was not so good. I wasn't going to name the place but, if you've read this far, you deserve to know. It was Rocky's Roadhouse on North Eleventh Street.

That's Obscene!

Did you know that it’s illegal to possess, promote, or sell obscene material in the State of Texas? Did you also know that, in Texas, obscene material includes all that stuff you can buy at “fun parties?” I’ve been to a couple of those “fun parties.” I used to pretend I was enjoying myself but not anymore. There are some things I just don’t want to know about the sex lives of my family and friends. When I do go to one of those parties, I cower in the corner and pray nobody notices me as they discuss the quality and quantity of their orgasms and pass around devices and creams and some items that look just plain dangerous.

Back to the topic of the Texas definition of obscenity, what a person uses when she is in a self-satisfying sexual state of mind should be between her and Johnny Depp or , if she's in a particularly scary self-satisfying sexual state of mind, between her and Keith Richards. Certainly any accoutrement used between couples of any sexual orientation shouldn’t be under a Texas judge’s jurisdiction unless the judge happens to be part of the proceedings, so to speak

According to a news story yesterday, undercover Beaumont Narcotics and Vice officers went into three local businesses and purchased allegedly obscene items and then presented them to a judge who ruled that they were obscene. I would have liked to have heard the clerk’s conversations when the undercover persons left their shops, “Did you see what that dude bought? He didn’t even look like a freak. He looked like a cop or something.” Or, “Oh, my God! That woman just bought enough dildos to vibrate a small country.”

Sure, I heard that the shops that were raided sell butt plugs and other similarly exotic accessories but, if those items aren’t used at the corner of Dowlen and Phelan or under the clock at Parkdale Mall I don’t see where it’s the business of society at large.

The scariest part to me is, according to Lt. James Clay, Beaumont Police, "Everyone that works there can be charged. The owners can be charged because it's based on possession, promotion and sale. The clerk is responsible for the sale and the owner is responsible for purchasing the items and putting them in the store."

That means all of those arrested, including sales clerks, could be found guilty of violating obscenity laws and could face up to one year in jail and a $4,000 fine. Now, that's obscene.

Boston Ill-Legal

The final courthouse scene on Boston Legal last night would have been much more effective if David Faustino had been cast as the son.

I Am Cow by the Arrogant Worms

My sister, Bonnie, sent me the lyrics to this song and reminded me that this was the favorite song of my nephews Christian and Sean when they were little. It's sung by The Arrogant Worms.

Here are the lyrics:

I am cow, hear me moo
I weigh twice as much as you
And I look good on the barbecue

Yogurt, curd, cream cheese and butter’s
Made from liquid from my udders
I am cow, I am cow, hear me moo (moo)

I am cow, eating grass
Methane gas comes out my ass
And out my muzzle when I belch

Oh, the ozone layer is thinner
From the outcome of my dinner
I am cow, I am cow, I’ve got gas

I am cow, here I stand
Far and wide upon this land
And I am living everywhere

From B.C. to Newfoundland
You can squeeze my teats by hand
I am cow, I am cow, I am cow
I am cow, I am cow, I am cow!

Somebody Make It Stop

The election season is upon us and, as usual, the television and radio ads are like fingernails on a blackboard, an ice cream headache and water torture all rolled into one.

In the Texas governor race, Carole Keeton Strayhorn's ads are playing constantly, including one about how she married her high school sweetheart. I don’t care.

Rick Perry and Chris Bell are attacking each other claiming their opponent: hates children, hates teachers, hates money, loves money, hates Texas, is a bigot and, in general, a menace to Texas society.

In the meantime, Kinky Friedman, James Werner and James "Patriot" Dillon, have no radio or television ads in most areas of Texas because they don’t have the money of the other three candidates.

I would like to make the following proposal:

• All radio and television ads would be banned. They’re all exaggeration, accusations, cross-accusations and bullshit anyway.
• Newspaper and magazine ads would be restricted to two inch by two inch spots.
• Posters would be restricted to two feet by two feet.
• Posters would also be restricted to one poster per square mile per candidate.

Any mud a candidate would want to sling at their opponent would have to fit into either the two inches of the print ad or the two feet of the poster. I predict that the candidates would be a lot more selective about their chosen mud.

As an added bonus, we don't have to listen to the ridiculous political spots over and over and over again. Who's with me?

Fred Eaglesmith at Courville's

Last night Jack and I saw Fred Eaglesmith at Courville's.

Every time we've tried to see him he sold out the place, so this time Courville's booked him for two shows. We saw the 5:00 p.m. show and, I must say, seeing a concert at 5:00 in the afternoon and still being home in time for Desperate Housewives made for a pretty cool Sunday afternoon/evening.

The gumbo was hot and spicy and so was Fred. No particular song stands out because they were all great. He is also one of the funniest performers I've ever seen. He did as much stand-up comedy as he did music but that wasn't a bad thing. I especially enjoyed watching Willie, his back-up singer/mandolin player.

Don't miss the Big Damn Acoustic Jam (click on the Courville's link and go to Events) on November 15th. You can call to make a reservation which I highly recommend because, if it isn't sold out, it will be soon.

Kemah Boardwalk

I have had a pretty busy weekend for someone who usually spends about fifty percent of any given weekend laying on the couch.

• Mom and I went to Houston to bring Cory and Jamie some tables for their garage sale next weekend.
• Cory and Jamie were both working Saturday morning, so mom and I went to Kemah. It's a beautiful place with lots of fun family stuff to do. However, I can't wait to go back with my drinking friends because there was also a lot of not-so-family stuff to do.
• At lunch I found out there is a drink called a Michilada which is described thusly: Habanero sauce, lime and draft beer served over ice.
• The Michilada is served at Cadillac Bar and Restaurant and it was some of the best mexican food I've ever eaten. Try the fish tacos. Excellent margarita also.
• We left Kemah and drove to Alvin and unloaded the garage sale stuff at Cory and Jamie's.
• We all went to dinner at Zio's for italian food - delicious!
• Came home Sunday morning and "helped" my cousin load up my old bedroom furniture which I sold to him.
• Going to Courville's shortly to see Fred Eaglesmith.
  
  

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I Have a Question

Why are the stingrays so pissed off?

(This story about attacks increasing was published in 2004.)

(This story gives you more stingray attack info.)

Laurie Laurie

I love those commercials for the TomTom personal navigation system. The driver keeps asking his passenger, "Mary, Mary, is this where I turn?" "Bill, Bill, do I take a left right here?" There's just something sweet about them because nobody is angry that they don't know where the hell they are. They just calmly and cluelessly drive around trying to get wherever they're going.

Tonight I was Laurie Laurie. Reminiscent of the time Jack (then known as Wang Chi) and I got Susan in St. Paul unlost in Iowa, I was at the helm of my mighty computer while my sister and brother-in-law were lost in the wilds of Jefferson County. Because of an accident on Interstate 10, my sister and her husband were forced to venture into the vast unknown regions of western Jefferson County as emergency workers worked to clear the highway.

Getting people unlost in a rural area is different than helping someone find, say, a sushi bar in Boston. As I was directing Terry first north then east and back to west again, I told her, "Okay, now Lawhon road will eventually become Pignut Road."

"What?" asked Terry.

"Pignut Road."

Terry asked, "Who would name a street Pignut Road?"

"Someone who is very fond of pigs, I suppose," I said.

Terry said, "I don't see any signs."

"Would you want people to know you lived on Pignut Road?" I asked.

"Come to think of it," Terry said, "I haven't seen any houses."

"Would you build a house on Pignut road?" I was trying to make a point.

I think they're going to be late for Katie's football game tonight, but, hey, at least we know where Pignut Road is. Not everybody can say that.

Nip/Tuck Catch Up

A week or so ago, a couple of people here in the office asked if I watched Nip/Tuck. They thought it would be something I would like and they proceeded to tell me about the episode with Melissa Gilbert which I posted about here. In a similar incident to the Melissa Gilbert story linked to above, I was talking to one of the girls about this week’s episode and we were discussing how Rosie O’Donnell’s ear got chopped off. One of the attorneys said, “What?! Rosie O’Donnell’s ear got chopped off?” (See above link to understand why that was funny.)

So, here we are in the fourth season of Nip/Tuck and I’m trying to catch up. I did the same thing with the X-Files. It wasn’t until I had someone who could catch me up on the history of the show that I started watching it in its third season. I still miss the X-Files.

I’ve decided to buy the first three seasons of Nip/Tuck off of Ebay because renting them and trying to watch all of the episodes before I have to return the DVDs is just way too much pressure. When my DVDs come in, I’m going to host monthly Nip/Tuck watching parties so I can encourage others to join me in what is probably going to be another Laurie obsession.

I think watching a few episodes of Nip/Tuck while drinking martinis is bound to be a hit with my friends. Hell, I might even feed them. Maybe I’ll start a trend. This could become bigger than Bunko.

"I Never Thought It Would Happen to Me"

I heard it on the news again tonight. It's one of those phrases I seem to hear on the news at least once and, quite often, twice a day. Some poor bastard said, "I never thought it would happen to me."

When something bad happens to me, my first thought is, "So, what else is new? More crap, different day." Then, I move on.

Life sucks. That's where the phrase "it all went down the drain" comes from. Do people really think nothing bad is ever going to happen to them or is it the only thing that pops into their heads to say when a reporter is pointing a microphone at them?

Me? I fully expect to be wrecked, robbed, laid off, sickened, broken or natural disastered every time I walk out the door. I would also not be one bit surprised if one or more of the above things happened to anyone in my family or to one of my dear friends.

I would love to hear one guy look at the reporter and say, "I fully expected this. God hates me."

Of course, to balance my well-hidden pessimism, I am also convinced I will win an Oscar and play in the World Series. A girl has to have a backup plan.

Two Year Blog--aversary

My cousin Zina just pointed out to me that the two-year anniversary of this blog passed without nary a mention from me. Although you'll find posts dated prior to 10/4, those were just made to upload pictures and such. My first official post was on 10/4 and it was, appropriately, about New Orleans. I won't link to it so that you will be forced to peruse my prolific and entertaining archives. You don't have anything better to do today, right?

To all my longest blogging friends: Lorna, Wang Chi, JenT., Deek, Old Horsetail Snake, Se7en, Lauren in Lafayette (wherever you are...hope you're well), Astrid and Abby and Mark at Falafel Sex, it's been great fun.

To all my newer blogging friends, to quote Danny DeVito in Throw Mama From the Train, "Remember, a writer writes, always." This is one of the best modes of direct brain to brain communication I can think of and I love it. Keep writing even if you stop blogging.

Edited to add: I went back to see what I posted on 10/4/06, the actual anniversary, and it's the post about my dad being in remission and Pamy calling him "The Tumor-nator." That's appropriate, I think.

The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald

I'm embarrassed to say that I didn't know, until about ten years ago, that the wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald happened in 1975. I never listened closely enough to the lyrics to pick up the modern day references and, for some reason, had always thought the wreck occurred decades earlier.

I was watching a documentary about the recovery of the bell from the Edmund Fitzgerald and was shocked to see the surviving family members at a memorial service where the actual bell from the Edmund Fitzgerald was rung for each survivor as family members read their names. I assumed these were grand-children or great-grandchildren. In reality, they were the widows and children of the lost mariners. It was a fascinating documentary but I can't seem to find it anywhere in the Internet Movie Database or on Amazon.

I was going to post the lyrics to the song here but you can find that youself easily enough. Instead, I give you this bit of trivia: the ship was named after Edmund Fitzgerald (3/1/1895 - 1/9/1986) who was a former president of Northwestern Mutual Life.

I also give you the names of the 29 crew members of the Edmund Fitzgerald:
Michael E. Armagost Third Mate
Frederick J. Beetcher Porter
Thomas D. Bentsen Oiler
Edward F. Bindon First Assistant Engineer
Thomas D. Borgeson Able-Bodied Maintenance Man
Oliver J. Champeau Third Assistant Engineer
Nolan F. Church Porter
Ransom E. Cundy Watchman
Thomas E. Edwards Second Assistant Engineer
Russell G. Haskell Second Assistant Engineer
George J. Holl Cheif Engineer
Bruce L. Hudson Deckhand
Allen G. Kalmon Second Cook
Gordon F. MacLellan Wiper
John H. McCarthy First Mate
Ernest M. McSorley Captain
Joseph W. Mazes Special Maintenance Man
Eugene W. O'Brien Wheelsman
Karl A. Peckol Watchman
John J. Poviach Wheelsman
James A. Pratt Second Mate
Robert C. Rafferty First Cook
Paul M. Riippa Deckhand
John D. Simmons Wheelsman
William J. Spengler Watchman
Mark A. Thomas Deckhand
Ralph G. Walton Oiler
David E. Weiss Cadet
Blaine H. Wilhelm oiler

Chaba Thai Cuisine

Beaumont finally has a Thai restaurant. I've eaten there several times and gotten food to go once and it was delicious every time. I don't know anything about Thai food so I have nothing to compare it to, but you should definitely give it a try.

Chaba Thai Cuisine
4340 E. Lucas
Beaumont, Texas
(409)899-4500
M-Sat, Lunch: 11 a.m. - 3 p.m., Dinner: 5 p.m. - 9 p.m.
Sun, 5 - 9 p.m.

Most Recent "How Well Do You Know Laurie?" Quiz Results

(Click on the title to take the quiz.)

Susan in St. Paul 100
Wang Chi 100
Terry 90
Bonnie 80
Katie 80
Lorna 70
Her Mom, Ruby 70
Cousin susan 70
Roger 70
Shelli 70
Cory 70
Jamie 60
D. B. Cooper 60
Carly 60
Zina 60
Melissa 60
Jen 50
Christi 50
Jack 40
Sophmom 40
Cindy 40
Just Me 40
Neil 20

Edited 10/17 to add:
Wang Chi: Now that's more like it. You need to talk to your friend Jack.
Terry: Good show, little sister!
Cory and Jamie: We're going to have a little mama history class when I get there this weekend. :)

Video of My New Bedroom Furniture

The delivery guys were able to get all my bedroom furniture in the house between rain showers. I looked at the radar while they were unloading the furniture and it was like a little umbrella was right over my house while it was pouring everywhere else.

I needn't have worried about the furniture fitting or looking wrong. As you can see from the video, it's perfect.

New Furniture Today

I'm having some new bedroom furniture delivered today. That's a picture of the actual dresser up there and I got two nightstands to match. The bed looks like the one on the left except it is sandstone (beige-ish) with silver accents instead of the black with gold accents.

I also got a new mattress. The salesperson asked me what kind I wanted and I told her I had been sleeping on the same mattress for the last 26 years so, I'm obviously not very picky in that department. My current mattress actually has a visible dent in it caused by the heaviest part of my anatomy.

My bedroom is pretty small and the furniture is pretty big. I'm beginning to have anxiety attacks approximately every hour due to my OCLS - obsessive compulsive lifestyle. According to Jack, it isn't a disorder, it's a lifestyle choice. My OCLS isn't of the Monk variety. It's more of the Felix Unger variety.

My OCLS is causing me to have regrets and second thoughts. Could I have gotten a better deal somewhere else? Nothing is going to fit in the room or look right together. Should I have gotten more of a feminine style of furniture to go with the romantic look of the bed? Should I have shopped around more?

I'm certain that all of my nicknacks and brickabrack and googahs are going to suddenly be hideously tacky. The delivery men will punch holes in my walls and, the first time I sleep in the bed, it will go crashing to the floor.

All of the clothes from my old dresser are on the couch in my office and all of the pictures in the bedroom and hall are on the floor along with the aforementioned hideously tacky nicknacks, brickabrack and googahs. I've moved my living room furniture in an effort to prevent the movers from breaking things downstairs on their way up to the bedroom. All of this wreaks havoc on the sensitive psyche of a person with an OCLS.

Did I mention there is a 90% chance of rain today?

How Well Do You Know Laurie?

How well do you know me? Let's find out.

Take the quiz.

Edited 10/15/06 to add:

Results so far...

1 Mary 100
2 Susan in St. Paul 100
3 Bonnie 80
4 Katie 80
5 Lorna 70
6 Her Mom, Ruby 70
7 D. B. Cooper 60
8 Jack 40
9 Neil 20

Mary is me. I had to take the test to be sure I had created it correctly and it wouldn't let me take it as me. Therefore, Susan, is the high scorer.

I am beyond impressed with Susan's score considering we've only known each other for about three years and only through e-mails. She scored better than my mom, my sister and my niece!

Lorna, you shouldn't feel bad since you got the same score as my mom.

Bonnie and mom, you guys should feel bad since you got the same score as niece/granddaughter, Katie, who has only known me 16 years as opposed to your 46 years/51 years. :)

Neil, bless your heart, you're just a bad guesser and D. B. a 60 is amazing considering I've only known you for about two weeks!

Jack, a 40?! Granted, the vast majority of our outings involve alcohol and conversing over loud music or between sets, but a 40?! I'll have to create a new quiz with some more recent Laurie history to give you a chance to up your Laurie Knowledge average.

Stolen from Hoss...I'm not sure where he stole it from...

Before you check out the cartoon, here's a joke Hoss had on his site today, too:

A small boy is lost at a large shopping mall. He approaches a uniformed policeman and says, "I've lost my grandpa."Policeman: "What's your grandpa like?"Little boy: "Crown Royal and women with big tits."

The Nietzsche Family Circus

Click on the title to take you to a site that randomly combines Family Circus cartoons with Nietzsche quotes. On the site, click refresh to get a new quote and cartoon.

The one below is the first one I got when I clicked on the link in Susan's e-mail this morning.

Those Family Circus kids are pretty smart, or maybe it was Nietzsche.

It is not a lack of love, but a lack of friendship that makes unhappy marriages.

(I just got this, this and this. Weird! I could do this all day.)

Southeast Texas Live

I'm not sure how I found this site. I might have read about it on another blog or in the newspaper but it's a pretty good place to check out what's going on in Southeast Texas, live, as it were.

What About Al Stewart?

I did a post yesterday about Al Stewart and Gordon Lightfoot and got a lot of comments about Gordon Lightfoot. We found out that Gordon Lightfoot almost died several years ago and is still touring.

I thought you might also like to know that Al Stewart is still touring and making music. His most recent CD, Beach Full of Shells, is wonderful and his voice is as clear and pure as it ever was. My friends Jack and Susan are big Al Stewart fans and say he puts on one of the most entertaining shows you'll ever see. (If we're lucky, Jack will do a post similar to his Hurricane Rita post with links to all of his Al Stewart concert and album reviews.)

(Edited 10/13 to add: Here's a link to Jack's comprehensive Al Stewart post.)

I've always enjoyed Al Stewart's music but am only familiar with Time Passages, Year of the Cat and the songs on Beach Full of Shells and Rhymes in Rooms. Even if I were a more dedicated fan, though, I'm pretty sure Year of the Cat would always be my favorite. I can't think of any other song that runs through my mind so beautifully, both visually and emotionally. Here are the lyrics...

Year of the Cat
Al Stewart & Peter Wood

On a morning from a Bogart movie
In a country where they turn back time
You go strolling through the crowd like Peter Lorre
Contemplating a crime

She comes out of the sun in a silk dress running
Like a watercolour in the rain
Don't bother asking for explanations
She'll just tell you that she came
In the year of the cat

She doesn't give you time for questions
As she locks up your arm in hers
And you follow 'till your sense of which direction
Completely disappears

By the blue tiled walls near the market stalls
There's a hidden door she leads you to
These days, she says, I feel my life
Just like a river running through
The year of the cat

Well, she looks at you so cooly
And her eyes shine like the moon in the sea
She comes in incense and patchouli
So you take her, to find what's waiting inside
The year of the cat

Well, morning comes and you're still with her
And the bus and the tourists are gone
And you've thrown away the choice and lost your ticket
So you have to stay on

But the drum-beat strains of the night remain
In the rhythm of the new-born day
You know sometime you're bound to leave her
But for now you're going to stay
In the year of the cat

Gordon Lightfoot/Cory and Al Stewart/Laurie

I just heard a Gordon Lightfoot song on my XM radio so I Wikipedia’d him to see how old he is and stuff like that. (That's Gordon Lightfoot above.)

I found out he has the same birthday as my son.

I also recently found out that I have the same birthday as Al Stewart.

I’m sure there’s a cosmic explanation as to why I feel that is worth mentioning but I don’t cosmically know what the cosmic explanation cosmically might be.

Anyway, it’s out there now for the universe to decipher.

Happy Birthday, Jamie!!

(Jimmy, Lori, Jamie, Cory)

Today is my wonderful, lovely, beautiful daughter-in-law's birthday. Happy Birthday, Jamie! See you guys soon...like REAL soon. ((smooches))

How to Be a Rock Star

I just saw this clip on the Daily Show as part of a fake news segment and hunted it down on YouTube.

Watch Keith Richards as a crazy fan enters the screen from stage left. Keith calmly takes off his guitar, takes a couple of swings at the guy, puts his guitar back on and continues the song. Mick Jagger watches the whole thing with not a worry that Keith won't kick this guy's ass.

What Women Really Talk About When Men Aren't Around

I had a Mary Kay party Saturday afternoon at which I served adult beverages. My last two guests left at 11:00 p.m. There was lots of intelligent conversation on world affairs and local and national politics. For example…

Lela: Did you see the most recent episode of Nip Tuck?
Laurie: No, I don’t watch that.
Bonnie: I don’t watch it either.

Lela: Well, Melissa Gilbert was on the last episode…
Laurie: Oh, God! I heard about that one.
Bonnie: What?! What?!

Lela: Melissa Gilbert goes into the doctor and her nipple has been bitten off.
Laurie: Yeah, that’s the episode.
Bonnie: What?! What?!

Lela: She tells the doctor that she brought her dog to the park and it got in a fight with another dog and she was wearing a low cut shirt and her boob fell out while she was trying to break up the fight and one of the dogs bit off her nipple.
Laurie: Yep.
Bonnie: No way!!

Lela: Then, her husband comes back from the war in Iraq and walks into the doctor’s office after the boob has been repaired and she tries to tell him her bullshit story…
Laurie: She was putting peanut butter on her nipples because she was “lonely” and the dog bit off her nipple.
Bonnie: AAAAAAAAAAgggggggggghhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!

Lela: Then, the husband has the dead dog in his duffle bag…
Laurie: I have to start watching that show…
Bonnie: Wait a minute. I thought Melissa Gilbert was married to Bruce Boxleitner.

Lela: That’s right.
Laurie: Yeah, she is.
Bonnie: But, you said her husband came home from Iraq. Why was Bruce Boxleitner in Iraq?

Lela: It’s not true! It’s a television show!
Laurie: No, no, no! This didn’t really happen…
Bonnie: Isn’t Nip Tuck the reality show about the plastic surgeon?

Lela: No!!!
Laurie: That’s Beverly Hills Doctor or Dr. 90210 or something like that.
Bonnie: Oh.

Pause…

Lela, Laurie, Bonnie: HAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAHHHHHHHAAAA!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Seabrook Pelican Path Project

When I drive to Houston to visit my son and daughter-in-law, I pass through the little town of Seabrook. They have a project which places pelicans on properties lining the roads. I love searching for the pelicans as I drive along. Click on the link at the top of the website which says Meet the Pelicans to see all of the pelicans.

So, if you see me driving down Nasa Road 1, keep a wide berth, unless you're a colorful pelican. In that case, wave wildly. I would like that.

Orle Sex Anyone?

Someone arrived at this blog by doing a Yahoo search for "orle sex." After doing my own Yahoo search for "orle sex," I discovered the person was directed here because of the "orle" in the world Orleans and because of the "sex" in my post where I mention Falafel Sex.

I don't know if the searcher was an adult with a spelling malfunction or, possibly, a child who heard the term "oral sex" used by adults and, although they aren't old enough to know how to spell oral, they were clever enough to do a Yahoo search.

When I was in high school, our spanish speaking friends loved to throw around dirty phrases in spanish and then laugh at us because we didn't know what they were saying. So, it's possible that a non-english speaking person overheard the phrase "oral sex" and wondered what all the fuss was about and decided to hit Yahoo.

The confusion could have been avoided if the searcher had done a Google search. Google helpfully asks, "Did you mean: oral sex?"

Always, Mr. Google, always.

Help Neal in Antarctica

My blogger friend Neal in Antarctica is planning a European vacation when his time at the South Pole ends in the near future. He needs advice. Pop over there and help him out. Even if you can't give him any advice, his writing is always amusing.

I've Got (short) Legs

At my first job out of high school, I worked with a couple of women who were nice people but tended to constantly give me unsolicited advice and comment on anything I did which didn't seem "normal" to them. I was only eighteen which, in their eyes, meant I needed constant guidance in the ways of the world.

I was once chided for cooking ribeyes on the stovetop, making a gravy with the drippings and serving it with rice, Cajun style. You would have thought I had tried to feed bacon wrapped ham to a rabbi.

One day, it was necessary, for some forgotten reason, for the office manager to move my car. I always pull my seat as close to the steering wheel as it will go. The office manager, on the other hand, always pushed her seat as far back as it would go. The nurse (I worked for an ophthalmologist), opted for somewhere in the middle as was explained in the lecture I received for having my seat so close to the steering wheel.

I told them that, if I push the seat back any further, I can't reach the pedals.

"Ridiculous!" they said. "It's dangerous to drive so close to the steering wheel."

Mustering up my courage, I said, "Stand up."

"What?"

"Stand up, bitch."

(I didn't really say the bitch part.)

We were all about the same height which didn't make sense to me car-seat-driving wise. Sure enough, when we stood side-by-side, the office manager's legs were about two inches longer than mine and mine were about one inch shorter than the nurse.

The reason for this post is that I want all of you to stand by your friends and measure your legs and have a lively discussion on car-seat-driving positions. Evidently, it's an important issue to some bitches.

I mean, to some people.

Puh-lease!

An open letter to all early morning radio personalities and early morning television news people,

I realize that you’ve probably been hitting the coffee pot since about 4:00 a.m. but some of us don’t get our caffeine infusion until somewhere around eight or nine o’clock. If at all possible, could you please limit the outbursts of fake laughter until about 9:30 a.m.?

That would be great.

Thanks.

Somebody Stop Me

I’m having some sort of weird obsessive compulsive day today. I keep straightening papers, even in other people’s offices. I keep placing and removing page flags because they aren’t positioned exactly perfectly. I’m beginning to get concerned because I just lined up my medium sized binder clips in neat little rows and I’m fighting the urge to do the same with my small and mini binder clips.

I hope I get over this before (a) a co-worker slaps the crap out of me for touching her documents or (b) I go home. If I’m in this mood when I get home, it could be a long night of sock drawers, underwear drawers and desk drawers.

Oh, my God! I didn’t paint my toenails!!

My Dad - Good News!!

My mom just called and they have just left the doctor’s office and my dad’s most recent CT scan shows that the tumor is completely gone and he is officially in remission. They will continue the chemo until December and do re-checks for the next 5 years.

Thank all of you so much for your prayers and good wishes.

(For those of you who are new here, my dad was diagnosed with lymphoma earlier this year after the doctors discovered a tumor on his pancreas. As we've been told all along, this was the "good kind of cancer" to have as opposed to the original diagnosis of cancer of the pancreas.)

Edited to add:
One of my sister's friends just sent us an e-mail that says: "He is the TUMINATOR! Ha, I kill me!" Pamy

Flight of the Hamsters

Click here to play.

(Stolen from Falafel Sex.)

Edited 10/6 to add:
HOW TO USE THE SKATEBOARD: To use the skateboard, your hamster has to encounter one as he's flying through the air. Then, the game puts the skateboard in an inventory at the top right hand corner of the screen. If you can make your hamster approach the ground in a semi-vertical position, as it nears the ground, the skateboard will appear and your hamster will coast a few extra feet.

Invasion of the Mushroom Body Snatchers?

This is another picture of the big mushroom in my mom's backyard. I've looked online and I can't find what kind of mushroom this is. My blogging friend Astrid, who is in London by way of The Netherlands, just left me this comment:

I went to see some family last week and they also had these tremendous mushrooms in their backyard. No one had a clue where they came from or what, but they looked just as hideous! Haha ... and they feel like a dirty sponge! No, I vote for sunflowers all the way!

Do you think aliens are dropping these things all over like in Invasion of the Body Snatchers? Check your yards, folks.

I wonder if my Shroom Replica will have better hair?

Milwaukee's What?

I was on my way to meet some friends for drinks and dinner tonight when I found myself behind an 18-wheeler that was transporting a beer called Milwaukee’s Best.

I’m still trying to figure out why southeast Texas would need a whole 18-wheeler full of Milwaukee’s Best beer. I’ve never seen anybody drink one in a bar or restaurant or at a football game or house party. I’ve never heard anyone enthusiastically scream, “Stan’s here and he brought Milwaukee’s Best! Woo hoo! It's a party, now!”

My guess is that the truck was really full of the rest of Willie’s marijuana. Even the cops wouldn’t pull over a truck full of Milwaukee’s Best.

So, we...like...had this mushroom party...

As soon as I got to mom's house last night for Bonnie's birthday party, she took me outside to show me the big ass mushroom pictured above. That baby could have made Willie's bus happy for many a mile. Here in southeast Texas, after a particularly rainy spell, we have a lot of white cap mushrooms around that get pretty big, but I've never seen anything like this.

I didn't take a lot of pictures of the family, of which there were many, because they would have looked like every other family get-together we've ever had. I did get a few of the non-family party people sitting on the patio. Terry was there but was, evidently, in the house when I took the photos below.

By the way, this Slide.com thing is free, easy and I love it. You'll be seeing lots more slide shows here. (Thanks Deek.)