Monthly Archives: November 2011

The Musacks – Leonard Cohen

So I had a Capture the Everyday post all ready to go up when I moseyed over to Adventuroo and discovered that Mel has left the country to be with her ailing father.  Go give her some love and send good thoughts to her family in Costa Rica.  her prompt for this week was music and movies and that post will wait for her return, but she woke the beast with the music suggestion.

I heard a snippet of this song on Homeland tonight(woohoo, free Showtime for a year), but it caught a hold of me way back in the way back of the ultra late 80′s on the soundtrack of Pump Up The Volume.  Which was one of those movies that grabbed hold of both of my lapels(imagine I’m wearing something with them) and shook me like a Polaroid picture.  The music was badass, Christian Slater was badass(shut up, he was), Samantha Mathis was motherfucking badass.  The Eat Me Beat Me Lady indeed.

I wanted in on the whole voice crying out in the wilderness of pirate radio thang.  I realize now, it was blogging that I was after.  Blogging is so the future’s version of pirate radio.  Like they said in Contagion, it’s graffiti with punctuation.  Sometimes, anyway.  Scrawling  our guts and our sarcasm across the interwebbers.    Blogging is also way cooler than pirate radio because radio is limited to the range of whatever station’s signal is being stolen.  The internets can be heard round the world.  At the very least.

This song was sung by Cohen in the movie and Concrete Blonde on the soundtrack, to my extreme irritation and utter dismay.  Back then I didn’t even have an easy way to find out who was behind the gravelly, slightly demonic voice on the track.  Thank the gods and the Sweet Lady Internet I now live in the motherfucking future.  Now, go write hard.

Dose Of Happy – I Wanna Rock

Over at Band Back Together we’re feeling like we want to junk punch the next person who asks us if we have a case of the Mondays.  So instead of doing the time in the resulting anger management program, we decided to take Monday back.  So we’re linking up our Dose of Happy posts and bringing the awesome back to Mondays.  You can play too.  Now get  your happy on.

This is a card.  A handmade, especially for me card.  ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?  This card is made of  ultimate radness and supreme awesomosity.  As is it’s maker, Teala.  Who I heart.

Also hearted by me is Chibi Jeebs for doing the work to make the magic happen so that so many of us get to have a dose of happy amidst the circulars, bills and credit card applications every month.  Thanks to y’all I got mah happy pants on and I’m ready to rock this week.

Trifecta Challenge – Betray

This post is a response to the weekly writing challenge from Trifecta.  Not only is this a challenge, it’s a competition.  One that comes with the rewards of triumph, increased feelings of self satisfaction and having your wondrous words featured on Trifecta.  Join in and be judged, you know you have the words to kick some literary bootay.

This week’s word:  Betray

How easy it became, as time moved on, to betray the needs of the self.  Time is a funny thing, changing shape and size for indeterminate reasons.  It seems to fold in on itself like an intricate piece of origami that takes up less space and grows more frail at the passing of each year.  Compartments, once large enough to house dreams, now filled to capacity merely by the daily grind.

Only the most tenuous of traces remain reflecting anything other than those molded and stamped archetypal plans formed too long ago to be recalled by the living.  Mother, wife, meeter of needs.  Consumed by the very act of nourishment.  And yet, continuing on.

Stuff I Starred Saturday – Bring It, Texas

I am, more and more often these days, lacking in the words.  Next week I plan to be revived by the Texas sun and warmth.  Although those Texans are probs shaking in their fancy pants boots and their over-sized SUV’s at the idea of weather that dips below 70 degrees.  I say Texas, bring it on.  And bring on the Killer Brownies from Rice Epicurean.  I mean, really.  As if I need another form of carb laden sugar to shove into mah mouth hole.
I also plan to be revived by the wit and warmth of family and friends alike.  I have to say that I feel no need to ever return to Houston for the rest of my life if it weren’t for them.  I have memories, some of them even fond, of the clubs(Therapy and Rich’s and Numbers, oh my), wandering the Galleria and late nights fraught with champagne cavorting in front of the Transco Tower’s Water Wall.  Which all sounds more than exhausting to me now.  All I really want is a good leg rub, a show or two and some good one on one time with the Sweet Lady Internet.  Two outta three ain’t bad.  So says the ‘Loaf and so says I.  Which also kinda sums up how I feel about Texas.  Happy weekend, y’all.

Week Two


It’s like a hoodie. But with fangs.

The Things I Bought That I Love Black Friday Holiday Shopping Guide


I Was Not An Unwanted Adoption

I Am Still Just A Rat In A Cage

Spinning In Circles

If Boobs Could Talk

That’s What She Said

Due to all the holiday brainwashing, the thankfulness abounding about the interwebbers these days and the carbs, oh lawd the carbs, I wanted to write a post all about the aww, love ya, mean it that I really feel for y’all.  And then I read Lisa‘s fucking perfection of a post and I decided to do what we in Blogland do.  That is, steal other people’s shit.  Or at least link to it so we don’t have to come up with any of our own actual words.  Hey man, I’m tired.  I cooked a gargantuan meal for FIVE entire people.  I mean, how much more can I be expected to give to the world in a 24 hour period?

Also, Lisa is an advocate for zombie rights AND she schools you on how to be funny on the Twittah.  Basically she’s a humanitarian and by linking to her post instead of writing my own, I am changing the world.  I’m kind of a giver.

Musical distraction.

Oh, The Humanity

You can watch the whole episode on Hulu if you like laughter and happiness and hilarity.  Or you can go back for seconds and chance being subjected, yet again, to Uncle Fred’s recounting of  his bout of dysentery.  Lemme know how it all turns out. 

One man’s good idea is another’s massacre.  On that note, Happy Thanksgiving present American peoples.  Thanks for the corn and the seeds, OG Americans.  Oh, and the land and all its bounty and shit.  Sorry about the blankets.  Mwahs.