Happy Birthday, Janice (a/k/a Poodles)!

Monday is Janice's birthday so Janice, Bonnie, Amy and I went to Frankie's for wonderful Italian food and a couple of bottles of wine. From there, we went to the TEN lounge on Crockett Street for Pama-tini's and Sugar Baby martinis.

The martinis eventually led to a round of drunk phone calls and you should all be glad you aren't in my cell phone directory. For those of you who are in my cell phone directory, I think I completed one call successfully and promptly handed him off to Janice. The rest of you have a missed call from me so...uh...Happy New Year!

Good Grief

For the second time in one week, I just put both of my contact lenses in the same eye. What the hell?

Happy Birthday, Phil, Texas Style!

Last night was the surprise birthday party of my sister Terry's husband's brother Phil. His girlfriend Trish told him they were going to the birthday party of someone else and we all showed up at his favorite bar. Phil has lived in Kountze for a long time now and has developed a deep and abiding love for a little bar called Laverne's and I know why. Everyone cooked a bunch of food (chicken wings, sandwiches, red beans and rice, two cakes) and it was all delicious.


Here's our little group: Front row: Elda, Phil, Susan; Middle row: Terry, Christi, Trish, Laurie; Back row: Dan, Jimmy.

Notice my bottle of Tanqueray Sterling vodka on the table. Any bar that lets me bring my own bottle is a friend of mine.


Did I mention that Phil has a piglet? Someone shot the mother while hunting and distributed the piglets to interested parties. That's her up there in the little pink dress. The plan is to fatten her up and eat her, little pink dress notwithstanding. Any bar that lets livestock roam freely is a friend of mine.

Did I mention it was raining? It wasn't just raining, it was pouring. Sheets and sheets and sheets of rain on an unpaved and muddy parking lot. Any bar that doesn't mind that you're tracking mud in all over the place if a friend of mine.

Did I mention that the lights went out about twenty minutes after we got there? Phil went to WalMart and bought candles. One of the men pulled his pickup truck to the front door and shined his lights in so we could have a little light on the food tables. One of the guys stood his flashlight on the floor aimed at the disco ball for a more festive affect.

For weirdness, the song on the jukebox that was playing when the lights went out was Credence Clearwater Revival "Put a Candle in the Window." I swear I'm not making that up. When the music came back on, I SWEAR TO YOU, the second lyric we heard was "...as long as I can see the light." It was beyond surreal.


To add to the surreality of the night, the lights were out for about an hour and a half and, when they came back on, the television began televising news coverage of the execution of Saddam Hussein which occurred an hour or so later.


At about 10:30 p.m., Jimmy decided it would be a good idea to go to a club "...about five miles north of my house" which had live music but, because of Hardin County liquor laws closed at midnight. So, we drug our soggy asses outside, sloshed across the parking lot and headed toward Silsbee.

We got there at about 11:00 p.m. and exited the car in more driving rain in another unpaved parking lot. The band playing was Chris Johnson and Cheap Whiskey and they made me remembered why I used to listen to country music.

Oh, and the Neches Club also let me bring in my own bottle so they're my friend, too.



Soon, it was time to go, and, in more driving rain, Dan got us safely home.

I love a good adventure and this night was full of them. I do love Texas.

(More pictures here.)

Farewell, Year Old Friend

Goodbye, my faithful Daily Show With Jon Stewart America (The Calendar) 2006. You have been on my desk a whole year and watched me endure varied and sundry varieties of bullcrap, crappity crap and even, occasionally, some good crap.

Some days you made me laugh, some days you made me think and some days you did both. Mostly, though, you made me think of that gorgeous, smart, funny, scrumptious Jon Stewart every single day.

I’m going to miss you, but it’s a new year. It’s time for you to step aside and let The Far Side take watch over me for 2007. Hasta la vista, baby.

(Please tell me I’m not the only person who gets sentimental every December while unceremoniously throwing my trusty desk calendar into the trash can.)

Note to God

Dear God,

A nice little thunderstorm from 3 to 5 a.m.-ish is a wonderful thing. You should do that more often, especially at the beach. Thanks.

Love,

Laurie

(Pic Googled from here.)

The Facts of Life...and Death

Christmas Eve night, as usually happens, my parents and aunts and uncles migrated to my mom's living room, the rest of the men and teenagers gravitated to the game room and the rest of us found ourselves in the den sort of watching A Christmas Story but mostly just bullshitting about this and that.

For reasons I can't remember, we started talking about the unpredictability of life, or more precisely, the unpredictability of death. It was just your normal Ransonette/Courville festive holiday conversation.

We talked about how people shouldn't be afraid to live their lives the way they want and that people shouldn't be hesitant to take great leaps of faith when the moment strikes them because a person could...

"...walk out the door and get hit by a bus!"

"...drop dead while they're sleeping!"

"...fall into a hole!"

Then, I said, "Or, I could walk over to the fireplace right now and pick up that fireplace poker right there and smack Cindy across the back of her head."

At first, there was silence.

Then, people got into the spirit of the conversation.

"That's true!"

"Yeah, just like that, Cindy would be deader than a post. Dead"

"Just like that. BAM!"

"When the cops get here, because the parents would no doubt call the police," I said, "You guys would just say, 'Oh, she's dead alright, but, it's okay ossifer, Laurie was just trying to make a point about the unpredictability of life, or more precisely, the unpredictability of death.'"

I really shouldn't drink vodka.

Mmmmmmmmm...Tokyo!

Last night, the whole damn family went to Tokyo for some sushi and teppanyaki grilled food and fun. (More pictures here.) If you haven't been to the new Tokyo, yet, you must go. The place is just gorgeous. It's also just as crowded (if not more so) as the location out by the mall. The new Tokyo Japanese Steakhouse and Sushi Bar is located on the Interstate 10 access road across the highway from Sam's near Acapulco Mexican Grill and Cantina and Outback Steakhouse. Quite the international stretch of highway we have there.

By the way, guess who can suddenly use chopsticks. That's her up there in the front with her sisters and brother. I have this weird kind of brain that, if I just leave it alone, it will usually work things out on its own. My whole life, I have been unable to coordinate chopsticks no matter how hard I tried. Last night, out of the blue, I was actually eating rice and PICKING UP TEPPANYAKI ONIONS with chopsticks.

Now, if you'll excuse me, my brain and I need to have a little conversation about piano playing and novel writing.

Dirty Money

About a week ago, I opened my wallet and discovered I had somehow accumulated about twenty one-dollar bills. My wallet was so fat I couldn't close it. It was like, one day I had a couple of twenties and the next day I had a wallet full of ones.

The scary part is, I don't know where all the ones came from. Could I possibly have a multiple personality disorder thing going on and I'm actually Laurie (me), LuLu (the stripper) and Lennie (the serial killer)?

Speaking of strippers, do the one dollar bills they accumulate go directly back into commerce? When I opened my wallet at Jack in the Box this morning, I wondered, "Suppose I am LuLu the Stripper and these ones were in my g-string last night. Now, I'm paying for my breakfast with nasty g-string money which will be put into the cash register and given as change to the soccer mom in the SUV right behind me."

I would like to make the following proposal. When people go into a strip club, they should be required to exchange their one dollar bills for Stripper Money. At the end of the night, the strippers would exchange their Stripper Money (which is all sweaty, and...well, you know) for real, relatively non-nasty, money.

Now, that I've figured out what should be done with LuLu's stripper money, I need to work on Lennie's problem of misplacing all of Laurie's good butcher knives.

Merry Christmas Day!

Merry Christmas again! I put some new pictures on Flickr. You can click here to see them. I'm off to Houston for the rest of the holiday and probably won't post again until Wednesday night.

Bye!

Love,

Laurie, Cory and Jamie

MERRY CHRISTMAS!

I'm not sure when I'll be posting or when you'll be reading so Merry Christmas everybody!

The Way We Were

"Your girl is lovely, Hubbell."

Damn, I love that movie.

Man Shoots Seven-Legged Hermaphrodite Deer

My friend Carly sent me this article last week because she knows I like weird animal stories. At the time she sent it to me, there were no pictures out on the internet. Since that time, photos of the actual deer have been posted.

None of the pictures, however, do justice to what I had pictured in my head...

In Laurie's Brain - Rhonda the Redneck Nail Tech

This is for Jen's comment on my previous post. I wrote her a little ditty I like to call...

Rhonda the Redneck Nail Tech

You know Shelli and Sheila

and Cindy and Ellen

Linda and Lisa

and Mitzi and Helen.

But do you recall

The most famous nail tech of all?

Rhonda the redneck nail tech

Had a nasty Texas drawl.

And if you ever heard it

It would make your skin just crawl.

All of the other nail techs

Used to sneer and mock her voice.

They only let poor Rhonda

Do the nails of ugly boys.

Then the richest man in town

Said to her one day,

"Rhonda with your shirt so tight

Won't you do my nails tonight?"

Then all the nail techs loved her.

But she told them "Kiss mah ass."

Rhonda the redneck nail tech

Married into oil and gas.

By Laurie Anderson

In Laurie's Brain - My Christmas Carols

Deck the Halls (and Slap Oates Around a Little, Too)
Seals and Crofts

Gabba, Gabba, Ho, Ho, Ho
The Ramones

Jingle Do-You-Wanna-See-My Balls (‘Cause I’ll Show Them to You)
Jim Morrison

I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Clause
The love child of Jerry Garcia and his favorite Deadhead

Grandpa Looks Like He Got Run Over by a Reindeer
The grandchildren of Keith Richards

Little Drummer Boys – A Tribute
Duet by Led Zeppelin and The Who

The IRS is Coming to Town
Willie Nelson

Silencer Night
Tony Soprano with background vocals by Big Pussy

Jingle Bell Rock Lobster
B-52’s

Twelve Wives of Christmas
Rod Stewart

Feliz Navidad and Leave Me Alone, I Have a Green Card
Legal Aliens

Joy to the World (Well, Not the WHOLE World)
Donald Rumsfield

White (Sands) Christmas
Jimmy Buffett

Blue (Water) Christmas
Jimmy Buffett

O, Come On Marianne Faithfull!
Mick Jagger

Frosty, The Duff Beer
Homer Simpson

Rhonda the Redneck Nail Tech
Kellie Pickler

Please Come Home for Christmas
New Orleans to Everyone

By Laurie Anderson

Must...Eat...More...Chocolate

As I was eating a Lindt Lindor Truffle a while ago, I read the back of the bag and it said one serving is three pieces.

So, I ate two more pieces.

Don't want to piss off the chocolate gods.

Foreigner

I just got back from seeing Foreigner at a Christmas party. Yeah, I'm just that cool. It was fantastic and I'm deaf as a post because we stood right by the stage in front of what I thought was a monitor but turned out to be a speaker. What? Did you say something?

Here is Jack's more better post about the concert.

My First Crush

That's Peter Noone of Herman's Hermits. I even still remember his whole name: Peter Blair Dennis Bernard Noone and he had the most beautiful blue eyes. He was my first crush and also my first rock and roll album purchase. Next came 45's (children, ask your parents) of the Beatles, Rolling Stones and the Supremes. The rest is music trivia history in my poor overcrowded brain.

Hey, I was only 9. If I had any snap at that point, I would have fallen in love with Bob Dylan's words. I repeat...I was only 9.

What High School Clique Would You Hang Out With?

Swiped from my niece's MySpace. You have to adjust if you're not in school anymore but if you cast your memory back a little(or a lot), it should work. It sure nailed me.

You scored as Geek/Nerd. Haha! ok. go computer geeks! Geek/Nerd 73% Punk 60% Emo Kid 47% Hot 27% Loner 20% Prep 13% Stoner 7% "Ghetto" 7% Jock 0% Goth 0% What Highschool Clique Do You Belong To? created with QuizFarm.com

Get Thee Behind Me, Santa...I mean, Satan

I woke up early this morning because I fell asleep on the couch last night while trying to watch March of the Penguins. Evidently, reading foreign subtitles aren't the only thing that puts me to sleep no matter how good the movie is. Morgan Freeman's soothing voice rocked me to sleep like a tiny little baby under my warm feather comforter.

I was supposed to be killing time before meeting my sister out at Crockett Street to join her and some of her work buddies for their Christmas Festivus but Morgan Freeman fucked that up. Since I fell asleep so early, I also woke up early. I tried to stay in bed but that didn't work so I got up around 7:00 a.m and began wandering around the house instead of doing something constructive.

I did a little of this and I did a little of that before sitting at my computer to read some blogs, answer e-mails, play some solitaire, work a Sunday New York Times crossword and just, generally, screw around. That all went to hell when a loud BANGGGGGGGGGGGG shook my whole house at around 8:30 a.m.

"Holy, shit," I thought. "What the hell was that?"

It was too early to call my family to see if they heard anything so I went outside to see if there were any other neighbors outside checking out the scene. ("Checking out the scene" is "groovy talk" to you young folks.) Nobody was outside, so, I could only assume something blew up or fell down inside my townhouse. I cautiously walked back inside.

I went out to the garage and checked the hot water heater and opened my garage door. I checked out the roof, both front and back. No Santa. I was really hoping for Santa.

I came back in the house and opened all my closets expecting, no hoping, to find a fallen shelf because my big fear was that my new air conditioner had blown up in my attic. All of my closets were fine and, after turning on my air conditioner then my heater, that seemed to be fine, too.

So, here I am, three hours later. I still haven't done anything constructive but, my house hasn't burnt down or anything so I consider that a damn good morning.

I watch a lot of movies and television shows about hauntings and when they drive the evil spirits out, sometimes a loud bang is heard. Maybe, when I said my morning prayers today, I finally drove Satan out of here. Now that would be a productive morning.

The Fruitcake Lady

My friend Elizabeth sent this to me. I hadn't thought about The Fruitcake Lady in a long time. She recently passed away.




From Wikipedia article:

Marie Rudisill died in Hudson, Florida on November 3, 2006, at the age of 95, just before the publication date of her latest book, Ask the Fruitcake Lady: Everything You Would Already Know If You Had Any Sense, on November 7. The November 8, 2006 broadcast of the Tonight Show included a tribute composed of highlights from her segments on the show, including one in which she cooked with (and was hugged and kissed on the cheek by) Tom Cruise.

Synchronicity and Serendipity

I sometimes confuse serendipity with synchronicity and vice versa. According to a search of a few of the online dictionaries, these words are defined thusly:

Serendipity – Good luck in making fortunate discoveries by accident
Synchronicity – Coincidence of events that seem to be meaningfully related

Some could go on and on debating Carl Jung and his theories on the underlying order of the universe. Not that anyone would be surprised, but I, of course, completely believe in an underlying order of the universe.

Here is an experiment in synchronicity I want you to try, with or without smoking pot. (Sure, I smoked pot in the 70’s but I definitely didn’t NOT inhale.) Turn on a television program, preferably cartoons, and put on some music in the background. I guarantee you will be amazed at the synchronicity between the audio and the video.

How does this prove synchronicity, you ask? It doesn’t.

What does this have to do with serendipity, you wonder? Nothing.

Has Laurie gone completely off her nut, you worry? To quote The Magic 8 Ball, "Signs point to, yes."

You're SO Weird!

I've been tagged by Grimm to give you six weird things about me. I had a little trouble at first until I put myself in my sisters’ heads and thought about all the times they have said to me, “You’re weird.” Once I did that, it was easy and I couldn’t stop at six.

1. I can talk like Donald Duck.

“You’re weird!”

2. I can cross one eye at a time.

“You’re weird!”

3. I hate to wear shoes when I’m indoors.

“You’re weird!”

4. I rarely, how shall I put this, pass gas (either direction). I can count on one hand the amount of times I’ve burped out loud. This might not be a big deal in your family, but, in mine, it’s a constant source of amazement.

“You’re weird!”

5. My house and my office always look neat but every cabinet, drawer and closet is a mess.

“You’re weird!”

6. No matter how long I'm gone on vacation, I read all of the newspapers I missed when I get home.

“You’re weird!”

7. I'm a little bit psychic but have no control over it whatsoever. However, it makes me eerily good at Trivial Pursuit.

“You’re weird!”

8. Reading or laying on the couch at less than a 45 degree angle puts me straight to sleep. Ergo, I have to watch foreign sub-titled movies in increments. I tried to watch Seven Samurai last night and fell so deeply asleep that I woke up three hours later. It took me three sittings to finish Cyrano.

“You’re weird!”

9. I sleep so soundly that I have literally slept through a train wreck less than half a block from my house.

“You’re weird!”

10. I’ve seen a ghost. I moved two weeks later.

“You’re weird!”

11. I used to be able to name all of the previous top ten contestants on each season of American Idol. This season, however, the little man who lives in my brain decided “enough is enough” and erased that memory bank.

“You’re weird!”

12. If I don’t wash my face before I go to bed, it bugs me…a lot.

“You’re weird!”

13. I’m an annoyingly cautious driver.

“You’re weird!”

14. I was anorexic in high school. This was, and still is, a big deal in my “healthy” eating Cajun family.

“You’re weird!”

15. I have a really high tolerance for pain. (I think it has something to do with lots of broken bones, sprains, bad shoulders, two kidney stones, countless gall bladder attacks and a partridge in a pear tree.)

“You’re weird!”

16. I’m a pretty good country western dancer but I am also very clumsy and a total klutz (see sprains and broken bones above).

“You’re weird!”

17. I used to think I was afraid of heights and roller coasters and anything that goes fast but I’ve decided instead that I’m afraid of falling off of heights and roller coasters and anything that goes fast.

“You’re weird!”

18. For some reason, I think stair rails are the most germy things in the world.

“You’re weird!”

19. If I consume too much Aspartame (NutraSweet) I have BIG problems with my memory.

“You’re weird!”

20. I think cockroaches, especially the flying ones, are the vilest thing on earth. I hate them worse than spiders, snakes, rats and yes, even frogs.

“You’re weird!”

21. I have a horrible voice but I love to sing but only when I’m alone.

“You’re weird!”

22. Although I’m a big hard rock/punk/new wave fan, I love Barry Manilow, The Carpenters and Bread.

“You’re weird!”

23. Although I can drink more than the average woman my size without being drunk, on occasion, I have had to be driven home and put to bed after only two or three drinks. This even happened in New Orleans once.

“You’re weird!”

24. My feet and/or my fingers tap when music is playing, even television commercials and background music in movies. I usually don’t even know I’m doing it. I absolutely cannot listen to Cajun music without my feet going crazy.

“You’re weird!”

25. Sometimes I talk in my sleep. Actually, it’s more like crying and screaming. For some reason, people find this disturbing.

“You’re weird!”

26. I can’t believe I came up with 25 of these!

“You are SO weird!”

I'm supposed to tag six other people but I prefer to let you choose. If you do the six weird things, leave us a note in the comments with a link to your blog or just leave us your six (or more) weird things about you in the comments.

Fig This

I’ve been listening to the five XM Radio Christmas stations (contemporary, traditional, country, classical and crazy) for a couple of weeks now and I’ve come to the conclusion that there are five or six actual Christmas songs and those five or six songs are repeatedly performed by approximately 3,623 different artists. I’ll let you do the math.

I’m not yet tired of all of this jolliness but I can sense a change in my tolerance level approaching. Every time I hear, “Oh bring us a figgy pudding…we won’t go until we get some…so bring some out here…” I get a little tense. If a bunch of people were standing on my porch screaming, “HEY, BRING ME SOME GOT DAMN FIGGY PUDDING RIGHT NOW AND WE AIN’T LEAVING UNTIL YOU DO,” they’d get some extra special figgy pudding along with a bright red Santa boot shoved up their collective asses.

Now, get off damn my porch, you bunch of fig heads.

Sugar Biscuit

I stopped at Great China on my way home because I was hungry for spring rolls and hot and sour soup. While I waited for my order, I noticed a hand-written sign that said:

Sugar Biscuits 10 for $2.50

Maybe it's because I'm from The South, but, I wouldn't mind being called "Sugar Biscuit."

"Hey, Sugar Biscuit, while you're up, bring me a beer."

Now, that's just sweet.

How Many Are There of You?

As I continue my trend of lazy blogging, here's something else I found on Serena Joy's blog. (She has a very interesting sidebar.)

There are 532 Laurie Andersons. However, using my maiden name of Ransonette, there are 0 people with my name because they don't have Ransonette in their database.

Now, aren't we special?

HowManyOfMe.com

There are: 532 people with my name in the U.S.A. How many have your name?

What Christmas Ornament Are You?

From Serena Joy...

You Are a Snowman

Friendly and fun, you enjoy bringing holiday cheer to everyone you know!

What Christmas Ornament Are You?

How Well Do You Know Laurie Quiz - Part 2?

Click on the title to take the quiz. Results so far...

Susan in St. Paul 100 (!!!!!!)
Wang Chi 90
Missy 90
Ruby (mom) 80
Bonnie 80
Katie 60
Kim 60
Cory 50
Serena Joy 40
Carly 40
Jen 40
Melissa 40
Zina 40
Sophmom 30
Jack 20
Lorna 20
Roger 20

• My mom and sister Bonnie did a good job.
• My niece Katie continues to know her Aunt Honey oh so well.
• Serena Joy did very well considering she's only been a blogging friend for a couple of months.
• Jack and Lorna, I'll make the next quiz simpler for you guys. Perhaps, ten questions about my eye and hair color?
• Wang Chi, you know me so much better than Jack. (Wang's results only show on my main quiz page visible through a link I have put in the comments. Don't know why.)
• Sophmom, at least you did better than Jack.
• Carly and Jen, obviously we don't talk about me nearly enough.
• Susan in St. Paul got a 100 ON BOTH QUIZES!!!
• Roger! A 20?! Dude!! How could you possibly think the ****** is my favorite New Orleans hotel? Hahahahahahaha!!!!!!! (On a positive note, so far, you are the ONLY one who got the Barbie doll question right.)
• Melissa, at least you did twice as good as Roger. Good guess on the boobs.
• Cory, my beautiful, beautiful son. Good guessing. :)
• Kim, good job sister-in-law.
• Zina, you're in the majority with a 40.
• Missy, you did better than almost everyone...even Melissa and Roger. ;)

Click here to take the first quiz.

Click here to see the post about the first quiz.

Results of first quiz:
Susan in St. Paul 100
Wang Chi 100
Terry G 90
Vikki C 90
Bonnie 80
Katie 80
Lorna 70
Her Mom, Ruby 70
Cousin Susan 70
Roger 70
Shelli 70
Cory 70
D. B. Cooper 60
Carly 60
Zina 60
Melissa 60
Jamie 60
Christian 60
Steve and Peg 60
Jen 50
Christi S. 50
Poodles 50
Jack 40
Sophmom 40
Cindy 40
JustMe 40
Neil 20

CLICK HERE

Click on the title.

Go ahead. I double dog dare you.

(After you do that, click on my picture at 25 Peeps. You can click on the others, too.)

The Gang Who COULD (accidentally) Shoot Straight

I live in an overwhelmingly predominantly blue collar area. A couple of days ago, a robbery took place in one of the smaller, even more overwhelmingly predominantly blue collar areas of southeast Texas. Arrests have been made and more are arrests are expected.

The thing that makes this particular burglary unusual is the amount of the haul. The take is estimated at over 4 million dollars. A couple of guys broke into a house, grabbed some jewelry, coins, credit cards and a safe and hauled ass. The jewelry was real and the safe was filled with cash and securities.

It's possible that these guys knew exactly who they were robbing and what they were after. I, however, prefer to think they were looking to score a couple thousand dollars worth of merchandise to feed their meth habit and now face felony charges and significant jail time.

I think I have my screenplay.

Happy Birthday to The Man

Back in the day, I was madly in love with Larry Bird. Today is his 50th birthday so I caught bits and pieces of a tribute show on one of the 562 sports channels I evidently have and never watch. The shooting!! The passing!! Amazing!!

Basketball is, by far, my favorite sport to watch in person. I was a huge television fan of the sport when Larry Bird was playing.

As I watched the tribute show tonight, I was surprised at the Celtics players I could still name: Ainge, McHale, Parrish. Damn, those guys were fun to watch.

30 Rock

I love this show. At first I just sort of liked it but now I love it. I don't know if the show actually got better or if I've been hypnotized by Alec Baldwin but it just cracks me up. A recurring bit on tonight's show concerned the fact that one of the main characters had made a movie called "Rural Juror."

Say it out loud.

"Rural Juror"

An hour later and I'm still laughing out loud every time I try to say it.

"Rural Juror"

Hahahahahahahahahaha!!!!

The Longest Three Minutes of Your Life

I got home from work Tuesday night and my computer was acting weird. Really weird. Really, really, bad weird. I was getting messages and warnings I had never seen before. The more I tried to fix it, the weirder it got. I finally had only one choice: the dreaded reboot. The computer wouldn’t even do a normal shutdown. I had to turn it off…at the power switch. Cue the scary music: Dum, dum, dum, dummmmmmm….

Suddenly, my social life, which is e-mail dependent, passed before my eyes. I envisioned the total collapse of my personal financial system which recently, after many hours of creating spreadsheets, online banking data entry and beautifully rendered Microsoft Money graphs, has gone paperless and check-free. (Those graphs by the way, show that I spend a delightfully obscene amount of money on “entertainment” and “dining out” and mainly at establishments on Crockett Street. I should probably do something about that. Nah, maybe next year.)

After pushing the power button for the computer to come back on, I waited.

“This is taking too long.”

“It doesn’t usually take this long.”

“Fuck.”

“Okay, that screen looks famili…what the fuck was that?”

“Dammit!”

“Okay, there you go. Come on, you can do it.”

“That doesn’t usually sound like that.”

“Cra…oh, wait, it’s okay.”

“Gotdammit! What the hellllll?! Name me?! What the fuck does that mean?”

“Oh.”

“Okay, here we go.”

“Shit, WHERE ARE MY FUCKING ICONS?!”

“Okay, okay, okay, there they are.”

“This is taking too long. It’s all gone! Gone! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”

“Oh, wait. It’s okay. There’s my e-mail. I have internet.”

“It’s okay. It’s all going to be okay.”

“I love you Mr. Computer.”

“I’m sorry I called you a gotdammotherfuckingpieceoffesteringdogcrap.”

Pretty Boy Jefferson Jackson

John Lee Hooker

My cousin Zina sent this to me a couple of months ago. Follow the instructions below for the genuine thrill that comes with discovering your blues name.

I'm either Pretty Boy Jackson (if we use Anderson) or Pretty Boy Jefferson (if we use Ransonette).

• From the first list, take the name using the initial of your first name.


• From the second list, do the same with your middle name.


• From the third, use the first letter of your surname.

First List
A=Fat
B=Muddy
C=Crippled
D=Old
E=Texas
F=Hollerin'
G=Ugly
H=Brown
I=Happy
J=Boney
K=Curly
L=Pretty
M=Jailhouse
N=Peg Leg
O=Red
P=Sleepy
Q=Bald
R=Skinny
S=Blind
T=Big
U=Yella
V=Toothless
W=Screamin'
X=Fat Boy
Y=Washboard
Z=Steel-Eye

Second List
A=Bones
B=Money
C=Harp
D=Legs
E=Eyes
F=Lemon
G=Killer
H=Hips
I=Lips
J=Fingers
K=Boy
L=Liver
M=Gumbo
N=Foot
O=Mama
P=Back
Q=Duke
R=Dog
S=Bad Boy
T=Baby
U=Chicken
V=Pickles
W=Sugar
X=Cracker
Y=Tooth
Z=Smoke

Third List
A=Jackson
B=McGee
C=Hopkins
D=Dupree
E=Green
F=Brown
G=Jones
H=Rivers
I=Malone
J=Washington
K=Smith
L=Parker
M=Lee
N=Thompkins
O=King
P=Bradley
Q=Hawkins
R=Jefferson
S=Davis
T=Franklin
U=White
V=Jenkins
W=Bailey
X=Johnson
Y=Blue
Z=Allison

Grimm Hits the Big Time

My newest blogging friend, Grimm, (that's him up there with his wife and daughter) left a comment on my last post that he didn't realize that all you have to do to "hit the big time" is to be written about in this amazingly amazing special blog of mine.

He also said he would add that to his goals for 2007. So that he can get the 2006 tax deduction which all persons mentioned in this blog receive, I thought I would help him reach his goal in 2006 rather than have to wait until 2007.

Don't say I never did anything for you, Grimm, my man.

Tax return instructions - Form 1040:

Put the $5,000 "I Was Written About in Laurie's Blog" deduction on Line 26a of your 2006 Tax Return. Most people spend a relatively short time in federal prison for taking the deduction. You're welcome.

How Could I Forget?!

I was just looking at my stat counter and noticed the IP of the company where my sister’s brother-in-law works with a guy named Jeremy.

I almost forgot to post that Poodles and Jack and I went to a wonderful Christmas party Friday night and to a wonderful after-party after the wonderful party and at the first wonderful party Jeremy was there. He told me to be sure to post that I saw him at the party because he and Jimmy would be reading the blog and he wanted Jimmy to see that he made it to the big time and was written about by the one and only me.

Here you go, Jeremy! Enjoy.

(By the way, that’s Jeremy, on the right, and Jimmy, to his very immediate left, on the back row in the picture above...taken at a different function...looking like they’re kind of sweet on each other…not that there’s anything wrong with that.)

Bubbles Wine

Nomad, my only known blogging friend in France, mentioned in my Drinking Primer post that she likes "bubbles wine." "Bubbles wine" makes me think of Champagne and, if you will indulge me for a moment, I promise not to write any more alcohol related posts this week.

I hate the taste of Champagne.

I hate the headache of Champagne.

I hate the bubbles of Champagne.

I hate drinks that contain Champagne.

On New Year's Eve when everyone gets that little tiny plastic flute of Champagne (I go to only the classiest of New Year's Eve parties), I quickly follow my Champagne toast with a great big swallow of any of the 2,969 adult beverages I do like.

At my little sister's wedding, they toasted with Cuervo Gold rather than Champagne. Like I said, we're a classy bunch.

Bah Humbu...oh, wait...never mind.

(SPACE LEFT BLANK FOR PICTURE OF ALASTAIR SIM, MY FAVORITE SCROOGE, BECAUSE BLOGGER WON'T UPLOAD MY PICTURE TONIGHT. BASTARDS.)

I started my Christmas shopping today and it was a schizophrenic day of Christmas spirit. I pretty much found everything I was looking for today at Target. I love Target. As I was leaving, the lines were ridiculously long.

"Bah humbu..."


"I can take you on Register 9," said the helpful young man.

"Score!" thought I.

Merry Christmas, everyone!


As I was slowly backing out of my parking place, after carefully looking both ways, I hit something. This was much more than a bah humbug moment. Since I couldn't see any cars behind me, I just knew I had hit a child. I don't drive an SUV but I've seen all of the investigative reports lately and I am justifiably terrified that I'm going to run over something important, be it man or beast.

However, keeping with the theme of the post,

"Bah humbu..."


I pulled back into my parking spot listening for horrifying screams and heard none. Preparing to exit my car to find out what the hell I hit, I looked in my rear-view mirror again and saw a dumbass pulling out of the space across the parking lot aisle from me. Obviously, this particular brand of dumbass hadn't looked to see that I was backing out BEFORE HIM (otherwise, I would have seen him when I started backing out), didn't realize (or didn't care) that he had hit me (okay, maybe we hit each other) and calmly drove away. I was so happy that I hadn't hit a living man nor beast, I drove away, too.

"Merry Christmas, everyone!"


I stopped at Hallmark to do a little more shopping before I headed home and found everything I was looking for that I had seen in the little catalog they had so graciously sent to my house. When I went to check out, one cashier was doing a gift wrap while the other cashier was "helping" a lady decipher the Dead Sea Scroll which was her layaway account. I stood there at least ten minutes. I didn't want to leave because I had pretty much cleaned out one little section of their store and I was afraid that if I came back later, they wouldn't have anymore of the treasures I just had to have.

"Bah humbu..."


When I finally did check out, I was told that, by using my Hallmark Gold Card, I had received an $8.00 credit. Oh, how I do love a bargain.

"MERRY CHRISTMAS, EVERYONE!!!!!!!"

Brief Programming Note

The Christmas party season has begun. It's also high school football playoff season. The two worlds are colliding. It's 3:00 a.m. and I have to get up in about 5 hours to go to a playoff game in Houston in 40 degree weather. Laugh if you will my northern friends, but to me, that's COLD!

The Christmas party I just got home from was great but I'll be paying for it tomorrow...uh...make that today.

Ho, ho, ho.

A Laurie Drinking Primer

When Laurie indulges in:

Smirnoff Ice – Makes me want to sit and talk.

Vodka – Makes me think people are being mean to me. In my brain, I’m constantly thinking “Fine!” like Cissy on Urban Cowboy. I almost got into my first bar fight while drinking vodka tonics.

Gin – Makes me giggly. One night Bonnie and I were both drinking gin and tonics and we laughed at everything and everybody. Bonnie and I have that affect on each other anyway. On gin, you can multiply that by a thousand.

Wine – Makes me feel silly and smart at the same time.

Tequila – Makes me a loud, happy, dancing machine.

Rum – Makes me mellow.

White Russians/Black Russians – For some reason, this is the only drink that makes me have holes in my memory. I remember about 80% of the night but there are big holes in the evening that are only verified photographically. Something about the vodka and Kahlua mixture I guess. (This is a Laurie/Melissa drinking together favorite.)

Jagermeister – Multiply the tequila affect by about twelve.

Whisky – Unless someone can remind me of a cocktail I’ve indulged in that contains any sort of whiskey, I have no idea on this one.

Beer - I've only had one full beer in my life and that was a few months ago. I'm guessing the affect would be a lot like my Smirnoff Ice buzz.

Mixing any of the above - The results are various and unpredictable. Add a headache to the hangover.