OK, it seems that Google served many of you very well in response to the quotation trivia test. I should have known that you would all figure that one out. Still, two answers seemed to stump you all somehow. So, without further adieu...
1. Helen Mirren in "Elizabeth 1st".
2. Dorothy Parker on her opinion of Katharine Hepburn.
3. Chiwetel Ejiofor as Lola in "Kinky Boots" upon being presented with
the wrong color of kinky boots.
5. Eva Gardner to Miss Fellowes in "Night Of The Iquana".
7. Guy Pierce as Felicia in "Priscilla, Queen Of The Desert".
8. Joan Crawford as Chrystal in "The Women".
9. Dolly Parton as Truvy in "Steel Magnolia's".
10. Mercy to George in "The Killing Of Sister George".
11. Zsa Zsa Gabor as Talleah in "Queen Of Outer Space".
Now, as for the two that you all seemed to miss...
4. How could you have missed this one??? It's so obvious!!! CHER!!!
On her opinion of the "other divas", Brittany, Celine and Madonna, at
the opening of the last concert in her farewell tour.
6. OK, I was particularly proud of this one. Ernest Hemingway to the
household help on hearing that Eva Gardner had just finished
skinny dipping in his pool. I just love it!!!
Friday, September 23, 2011
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
Who Said This?
OK, it's trivia time. Well, actually it's gay trivia time so that makes it even harder to play. Try to identify who said these just flamingly queer things. The answers will appear in the next post. C'mon, jump on in, the water's fabulous!!!
1. "Fetch me a priest, girl. I'm minded to die."
2. "She runs the gamut of emotions from A to B."
3. "Burgundy??? Please, god, tell me I have not inspired ANYTHING
burgundy. Red, Charlie Boy, I said 'RED!!!'. Red is the color of sex!!!
Burgundy is the color of lunch with your grandmother!!!"
4. "I've been working stages for more than 40 freaking years. Top that
you bitches!!!"
5. "Well, geography is my specialty, honey. Did you know that if it
wasn't for dykes, the plains of Texas would be... uh... engulfed by the
gulf. It's true. I saw it in a book once."
6. "OK, everybody listen up! Nobody touch the swimming pool! I'm
gonna drain it and use the water to make ice cubes for my martinis!"
7. "Oh, that was fucking charming! You gutless pack of dickheads!!!"
8. "There's a name for you, ladies, but it isn't used in high society....
outside of a kennel."
9. "Well, Louie brought his new girlfriend over last night and the nicest
thing I can say about her is all of her tattoos are spelled correctly."
10. "It so happens that your death will coincide with Road Safety
Awareness Week, a cause which we all know is close to your heart."
And just for good measure...
11. "I hate her! I hate that Qveen!!!"
1. "Fetch me a priest, girl. I'm minded to die."
2. "She runs the gamut of emotions from A to B."
3. "Burgundy??? Please, god, tell me I have not inspired ANYTHING
burgundy. Red, Charlie Boy, I said 'RED!!!'. Red is the color of sex!!!
Burgundy is the color of lunch with your grandmother!!!"
4. "I've been working stages for more than 40 freaking years. Top that
you bitches!!!"
5. "Well, geography is my specialty, honey. Did you know that if it
wasn't for dykes, the plains of Texas would be... uh... engulfed by the
gulf. It's true. I saw it in a book once."
6. "OK, everybody listen up! Nobody touch the swimming pool! I'm
gonna drain it and use the water to make ice cubes for my martinis!"
7. "Oh, that was fucking charming! You gutless pack of dickheads!!!"
8. "There's a name for you, ladies, but it isn't used in high society....
outside of a kennel."
9. "Well, Louie brought his new girlfriend over last night and the nicest
thing I can say about her is all of her tattoos are spelled correctly."
10. "It so happens that your death will coincide with Road Safety
Awareness Week, a cause which we all know is close to your heart."
And just for good measure...
11. "I hate her! I hate that Qveen!!!"
Monday, September 19, 2011
Seventeen Days And Counting...
My word, where has the time gone? Forty-one years... I can't believe it.
October 4, 2011 will mark the 40th anniversary of the death of Janis Joplin, an explosive force of nature that we still haven't seen the likes of cross our paths again. Janis was a broad, true and simple. She had stones the size of Buicks' and a voice that was even bigger still. Hell, here voice could give a microphone a hard-on.
Her style was unique, a cross of rock, soul, jazz and just plain gut-bucket blues. Her voice spread itself between raw, raspy and raucous all the way over to almost lullabyish and hurting so badly you could damn near taste the pain inside. She could erupt on stage like a volcano one moment and turn into a wounded bird the next and all the while taking you along for the ride of your life Visually she was much larger than life. Musically she was decades ahead of her time. And personally she was a bloody mess with enough baggage to move to Mars with. But it all served to make her who she was deep down inside: Pearl.
Always the outcast she never seemed to quite fit in anywhere. Her early life was a disaster. As to her youth in Port Arthur, Texas she said, "They laughed me outta class, they laughed me outta school and they laughed me outta town." To get even for that, several months before her death, she returned to Texas to attend her 10-year high school reunion. When she showed up she poured herself out of the back of the longest limo anyone had ever seen, awash in feathers, sequins and velvet and was descended upon by more news media than you can imagine. Guess what? Not only did no one remember her from high school they didn't even know who she was as a world famous performer!!! So much for Port Arthur. She snuck out the back entrance in tears and never looked back.
Less than 3 months later she was dead. While working on recording her upcoming new album she was found face down, dead, in her hotel room on the morning of October 4 1971. The coroner ruled her death the result of ingestion of large amounts of alcohol and almost pure heroin. From an underage high school chick that would sneak into honky-tonks and play for drinks to "the voice" of Big Brother and The Holding Company to fronting her own bands, Full Tilt Boogie and The Kozmic Blues Band, she managed to ride a lightning bolt bareback and barefoot. All with a smile on her face, an unmistakable cackle in her throat and a wisp of innocence about her that belied the hard wood that lay beneath. She left this plain at the height of her career and we will never know what might have been. I can only imagine what she would be like today at the age of 67. Whoa, doggies!!!
Pearl, I have everything that you ever recorded, I know every word to every song and I still hold that invaluable lesson that you taught me dear to my heart---you gotta "Try, Just A Little Bit Harder"...
October 4, 2011 will mark the 40th anniversary of the death of Janis Joplin, an explosive force of nature that we still haven't seen the likes of cross our paths again. Janis was a broad, true and simple. She had stones the size of Buicks' and a voice that was even bigger still. Hell, here voice could give a microphone a hard-on.
Her style was unique, a cross of rock, soul, jazz and just plain gut-bucket blues. Her voice spread itself between raw, raspy and raucous all the way over to almost lullabyish and hurting so badly you could damn near taste the pain inside. She could erupt on stage like a volcano one moment and turn into a wounded bird the next and all the while taking you along for the ride of your life Visually she was much larger than life. Musically she was decades ahead of her time. And personally she was a bloody mess with enough baggage to move to Mars with. But it all served to make her who she was deep down inside: Pearl.
Always the outcast she never seemed to quite fit in anywhere. Her early life was a disaster. As to her youth in Port Arthur, Texas she said, "They laughed me outta class, they laughed me outta school and they laughed me outta town." To get even for that, several months before her death, she returned to Texas to attend her 10-year high school reunion. When she showed up she poured herself out of the back of the longest limo anyone had ever seen, awash in feathers, sequins and velvet and was descended upon by more news media than you can imagine. Guess what? Not only did no one remember her from high school they didn't even know who she was as a world famous performer!!! So much for Port Arthur. She snuck out the back entrance in tears and never looked back.
Less than 3 months later she was dead. While working on recording her upcoming new album she was found face down, dead, in her hotel room on the morning of October 4 1971. The coroner ruled her death the result of ingestion of large amounts of alcohol and almost pure heroin. From an underage high school chick that would sneak into honky-tonks and play for drinks to "the voice" of Big Brother and The Holding Company to fronting her own bands, Full Tilt Boogie and The Kozmic Blues Band, she managed to ride a lightning bolt bareback and barefoot. All with a smile on her face, an unmistakable cackle in her throat and a wisp of innocence about her that belied the hard wood that lay beneath. She left this plain at the height of her career and we will never know what might have been. I can only imagine what she would be like today at the age of 67. Whoa, doggies!!!
Pearl, I have everything that you ever recorded, I know every word to every song and I still hold that invaluable lesson that you taught me dear to my heart---you gotta "Try, Just A Little Bit Harder"...
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
Out Of The Frying Pan and Into The Fire!!!
Good grief, have the Easy-Bake Oven people totally lost their minds??? Have you heard about this? It's just so freaking "America" it hurts!!!
Remember the Easy-Bake Oven? Well, after 48-years and 12 different design versions they are still kicking around. But today they managed to leap head long into the 20th century and a new level of madness. When first introduced in 1963 they were made of metal, resembled an actual oven and were powered by two 100-watt lightbulbs. Can you say hotter than fuck and scream third-degree burns at the top of your lungs? Trust me, LOTS of little girls did. Hell a few even managed to lose a finger or two in the process... White hot metal apparently gets pretty sharp. (Tell me what is horridly wrong with the picture to the left...)
Aside from a nauseating array of colors not found in nature this "toy" went through a number of changes. First it went down to just one lightbulb. Then it became made of plastic. Then it got a microwave design just to modern it up a bit. Hmmm, lets think about this a second... a 100-watt lightbulb inside of a plastic container the size of a shoe box. While the outside did not get white hot like the metal ones did it did get hot enough to melt and stick to your hands. Emergency room, here we come!!!
Enter the Federal Government. (NEVER a good thing) A recall? Hell no!!! Just another insane ruling. It seems they are legally phasing out incandescent lightbulbs (I'm stocking up on them) and are going to push those damned CF bulbs down our throats whether we want them or not. Apparently incandescent bulbs really are the gateway lighting source to heavy petting, communist thoughts and plaids. Who knew??? Sensing the lions at the gates the Easy-Bake Oven folks decided to come up with a 13th version of their toy. (Can the 13th of anything EVER be a good thing???) Get this... the new version is twice the size of the last model, looks something like the head of "Rosie", the Jetson's robot maid, is purple with "cool" graphics, costs twice as much as the last one ($49.99!!! For that price why not just go buy your child and actual microwave???) and has done away with the lightbulb altogether. In favor of an actual heating element!!! Just like a "real oven" as they like to promote it. Well, no more third-degree burns or severed fingers, now we just have to worry about house fires. And they still call this creature from the 5th gate of hell a toy??? I can't wait for the lawsuits to start.
Through all of its 48 years though, the little oven that could has had one constant. It still consistently makes the crappiest "treats" known to man. Runny "cupcakes", burnt "pizza", "cookies" that rival talavera tiles in texture and "pancakes" as good as any shingle I have ever chipped a tooth on. Don't even get me started on the "brownies". And I used to think toys couldn't get any worse than Barbie...
Remember the Easy-Bake Oven? Well, after 48-years and 12 different design versions they are still kicking around. But today they managed to leap head long into the 20th century and a new level of madness. When first introduced in 1963 they were made of metal, resembled an actual oven and were powered by two 100-watt lightbulbs. Can you say hotter than fuck and scream third-degree burns at the top of your lungs? Trust me, LOTS of little girls did. Hell a few even managed to lose a finger or two in the process... White hot metal apparently gets pretty sharp. (Tell me what is horridly wrong with the picture to the left...)
Aside from a nauseating array of colors not found in nature this "toy" went through a number of changes. First it went down to just one lightbulb. Then it became made of plastic. Then it got a microwave design just to modern it up a bit. Hmmm, lets think about this a second... a 100-watt lightbulb inside of a plastic container the size of a shoe box. While the outside did not get white hot like the metal ones did it did get hot enough to melt and stick to your hands. Emergency room, here we come!!!
Enter the Federal Government. (NEVER a good thing) A recall? Hell no!!! Just another insane ruling. It seems they are legally phasing out incandescent lightbulbs (I'm stocking up on them) and are going to push those damned CF bulbs down our throats whether we want them or not. Apparently incandescent bulbs really are the gateway lighting source to heavy petting, communist thoughts and plaids. Who knew??? Sensing the lions at the gates the Easy-Bake Oven folks decided to come up with a 13th version of their toy. (Can the 13th of anything EVER be a good thing???) Get this... the new version is twice the size of the last model, looks something like the head of "Rosie", the Jetson's robot maid, is purple with "cool" graphics, costs twice as much as the last one ($49.99!!! For that price why not just go buy your child and actual microwave???) and has done away with the lightbulb altogether. In favor of an actual heating element!!! Just like a "real oven" as they like to promote it. Well, no more third-degree burns or severed fingers, now we just have to worry about house fires. And they still call this creature from the 5th gate of hell a toy??? I can't wait for the lawsuits to start.
Through all of its 48 years though, the little oven that could has had one constant. It still consistently makes the crappiest "treats" known to man. Runny "cupcakes", burnt "pizza", "cookies" that rival talavera tiles in texture and "pancakes" as good as any shingle I have ever chipped a tooth on. Don't even get me started on the "brownies". And I used to think toys couldn't get any worse than Barbie...
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
Vivere.
I love that word! Well, actually it's not a word so much as it's a phrase. It's Italian, they have things like that, go figure. It means "dare to live". How can you not love a challenge of that enormity??? It has a Spanish equivalent, "Viva Ya", but that just doesn't seem to carry the same degree of UMPH that "Vivere" does. Sad but true.
Anyway, I got to see a perfect example of vivere in action the other day and I was genuinely impressed. I was shopping at Woodman's (and you all know what kind of trouble I can get into at Woodman's) and I inevitably find myself caught in a log jam in the meat department that is being caused by the lady on the end cap who is passing out the freebies. Of course, the masses are descending on her like harpies creating something akin to a 300 car pile up on the I-5. I have NO patience for this kind of crap. All I want to do is get into the other aisle and start rifling through the bacon to find a couple of good packages. But no, I am stuck in the shark tank at feeding time. I just decided to give up the ghost and kept myself entertained by hiding packages of frozen breakfast sausages behind the hamburger buns that were on display next to me. Should smell lovely in a couple of days, I thought to myself. Finally the masses had satiated themselves and moved on to greener end caps when I get to the end of the aisle and see what all of the fuss was about. OMG, I was in heaven!!! The days freebie was Hebrew National All Beef Hotdogs!!! HEBREW NATIONAL ALL BEEF HOTDOGS!!! They're all beef!!! They're Kosher!!! They plump up!!! They were FREE!!! FREE!!! I jammed on the brakes so hard I left rubber in the aisle. There they were. Wonderfully browned, cut into quarters and laid out on a plate with pretty little frilly toothpicks in them. There were four of them left. That would make an entire hot dog. An entire Hebrew National All Beef Hotdog. Mine, I said to myself. MINE!!! And them I saw him...
He was four at the very most and since he was standing up in the cart that his mother was pushing in my direction we were eye to eye with each other. I could see the spark in his eyes. I could feel the fire in his soul, hell you could of roasted marshmallows with it. And I could read his mind. Mine, I heard him think. Those hotdogs are mine!!! MINE!!! He had this look on his face that I can only describe as cross between "I haven't eaten since last week" and "You mean Santa is actually REAL???". And he had some fresh drool running down his chin. Ah, the power of vivere!!! So he and I start giving each other the hairy eyeball in between glances over at the hotdog. Yes, I was having a stare down with a four year old over a hotdog. A small part of me was embarrassed. OK, a very small part because the majority of me was concentrating on all beef goodness. I knew I had him bested, after all as I am want to say, old age and treachery will always overcome youth and beauty. Then the little shit beat me to the punch. He jumps to the front of the cart, grabs all four pieces of hotdog and proceeds to jam them into his mouth. Toothpicks and all. You little fucker!!!
OK, I immediately descend into full melt down mode. I was THIS close to starting to stamp my feet, wave my arms in the air wildly, get my lower lip vibrating wildly and start doing one of those 45 second inhales that results in a glass shattering High-C over Middle-C outburst of rage. Luckily the freebie lady sensed all hell was going to be breaking loose shortly so she quickly started slicing up some more and rolling them in my direction. I quickly consumed Hebrews with a gusto heretofore unknown on that end cap. Life was good.
And then I heard him. His High-C over Middle-C was extraordinary. As was the sight of his mother trying to pull several toothpicks out of his tongue as he stamped up and down on the bread, eggs and juice packs that were in the cart with him. Hey, little dude, Carpe Diem. Just make sure that you take the toothpicks out first!!!
Anyway, I got to see a perfect example of vivere in action the other day and I was genuinely impressed. I was shopping at Woodman's (and you all know what kind of trouble I can get into at Woodman's) and I inevitably find myself caught in a log jam in the meat department that is being caused by the lady on the end cap who is passing out the freebies. Of course, the masses are descending on her like harpies creating something akin to a 300 car pile up on the I-5. I have NO patience for this kind of crap. All I want to do is get into the other aisle and start rifling through the bacon to find a couple of good packages. But no, I am stuck in the shark tank at feeding time. I just decided to give up the ghost and kept myself entertained by hiding packages of frozen breakfast sausages behind the hamburger buns that were on display next to me. Should smell lovely in a couple of days, I thought to myself. Finally the masses had satiated themselves and moved on to greener end caps when I get to the end of the aisle and see what all of the fuss was about. OMG, I was in heaven!!! The days freebie was Hebrew National All Beef Hotdogs!!! HEBREW NATIONAL ALL BEEF HOTDOGS!!! They're all beef!!! They're Kosher!!! They plump up!!! They were FREE!!! FREE!!! I jammed on the brakes so hard I left rubber in the aisle. There they were. Wonderfully browned, cut into quarters and laid out on a plate with pretty little frilly toothpicks in them. There were four of them left. That would make an entire hot dog. An entire Hebrew National All Beef Hotdog. Mine, I said to myself. MINE!!! And them I saw him...
He was four at the very most and since he was standing up in the cart that his mother was pushing in my direction we were eye to eye with each other. I could see the spark in his eyes. I could feel the fire in his soul, hell you could of roasted marshmallows with it. And I could read his mind. Mine, I heard him think. Those hotdogs are mine!!! MINE!!! He had this look on his face that I can only describe as cross between "I haven't eaten since last week" and "You mean Santa is actually REAL???". And he had some fresh drool running down his chin. Ah, the power of vivere!!! So he and I start giving each other the hairy eyeball in between glances over at the hotdog. Yes, I was having a stare down with a four year old over a hotdog. A small part of me was embarrassed. OK, a very small part because the majority of me was concentrating on all beef goodness. I knew I had him bested, after all as I am want to say, old age and treachery will always overcome youth and beauty. Then the little shit beat me to the punch. He jumps to the front of the cart, grabs all four pieces of hotdog and proceeds to jam them into his mouth. Toothpicks and all. You little fucker!!!
OK, I immediately descend into full melt down mode. I was THIS close to starting to stamp my feet, wave my arms in the air wildly, get my lower lip vibrating wildly and start doing one of those 45 second inhales that results in a glass shattering High-C over Middle-C outburst of rage. Luckily the freebie lady sensed all hell was going to be breaking loose shortly so she quickly started slicing up some more and rolling them in my direction. I quickly consumed Hebrews with a gusto heretofore unknown on that end cap. Life was good.
And then I heard him. His High-C over Middle-C was extraordinary. As was the sight of his mother trying to pull several toothpicks out of his tongue as he stamped up and down on the bread, eggs and juice packs that were in the cart with him. Hey, little dude, Carpe Diem. Just make sure that you take the toothpicks out first!!!
Thursday, September 8, 2011
How The Hell Did I Miss This One???
I like to tell myself that I am on top of things. Always up on the latest trends. Both canines sunk deeply into what is "now". Cutting edge, if you will. Boy what a difference a day makes!
Yesterday while surfing the www. I stumbled upon the name Paul O'Grady. The lead in was "Paul O'Grady and his alter-ego Lily Savage...". Well, that was all that I needed to see. I clicked that link so fast I broke a nail. Boy, did I get my eyes opened up. It seems that Paul O'Grady is a very successful English stage and TV performer and host with a career that spans decades. And he's as gay as a goose (well, of course he is... he's English). It seems though, that his biggest claim to fame is his "sister", Lucy Savage. This immediately piqued my interest and I was soon off to Google-Land.
Ah, Lucy. What can I say, she's... um, well... she's Lucy. Lucy is England's version of Dame Edna only a LOT more vulgar and totally tarted and boozed up. REALLY big platinum blond hair, awash in sequins, fur, polka spots, chandelier earrings and thigh high boots with 6 inch heels. And she appears to be adept enough with those heels to run a marathon if push came to shove. Pink seems to be her "signature colour". Her trademark expressions tend to be "Oh, just bloody bugger off!", "What the fuck?", "You should have seen the size of the skid mark I left on that towel!" and "So, I was in Harrod's yesterday picking up some tampons...". Her favorite way to combat insomnia is getting on the phone at 3 AM and sending pizzas (double eel, hold the cheese) to Charles and Camilla. She hates the royals, says she finds them a bit standoffish for people on the public payroll. She also says that she'd rather chew her own nipples off than vote for a Tory. Lucy even hosted her own game show for 3 years on the BBC. Lord, this is SO my kind of woman!!!
Several years ago Paul "retired" Lucy. Said she had "seen the light, taken the veil and went to a convent in France.". The public screamed in outrage. Earlier this year Lucy apparently made an escape and did a guest performance at a telethon fund raiser for Japanese Tsunami Relief in London. Apparently ratings were astronomical. Was Lucy back for good? Sadly no because Paul later said that Lucy has subsequently been bricked up inside of a chimney by the Mother Superior for her own good. Not Lucy's own good, mind you. For the Mother Superior's own good.
If you want a good giggle then Google "Lucy Savage Youtube". There are literally hours of her there to enjoy. How the bloody hell did this treasure slip through my fingers unnoticed for all of these years??? My Old-timers disease must be worse than I thought...
Yesterday while surfing the www. I stumbled upon the name Paul O'Grady. The lead in was "Paul O'Grady and his alter-ego Lily Savage...". Well, that was all that I needed to see. I clicked that link so fast I broke a nail. Boy, did I get my eyes opened up. It seems that Paul O'Grady is a very successful English stage and TV performer and host with a career that spans decades. And he's as gay as a goose (well, of course he is... he's English). It seems though, that his biggest claim to fame is his "sister", Lucy Savage. This immediately piqued my interest and I was soon off to Google-Land.
Ah, Lucy. What can I say, she's... um, well... she's Lucy. Lucy is England's version of Dame Edna only a LOT more vulgar and totally tarted and boozed up. REALLY big platinum blond hair, awash in sequins, fur, polka spots, chandelier earrings and thigh high boots with 6 inch heels. And she appears to be adept enough with those heels to run a marathon if push came to shove. Pink seems to be her "signature colour". Her trademark expressions tend to be "Oh, just bloody bugger off!", "What the fuck?", "You should have seen the size of the skid mark I left on that towel!" and "So, I was in Harrod's yesterday picking up some tampons...". Her favorite way to combat insomnia is getting on the phone at 3 AM and sending pizzas (double eel, hold the cheese) to Charles and Camilla. She hates the royals, says she finds them a bit standoffish for people on the public payroll. She also says that she'd rather chew her own nipples off than vote for a Tory. Lucy even hosted her own game show for 3 years on the BBC. Lord, this is SO my kind of woman!!!
Several years ago Paul "retired" Lucy. Said she had "seen the light, taken the veil and went to a convent in France.". The public screamed in outrage. Earlier this year Lucy apparently made an escape and did a guest performance at a telethon fund raiser for Japanese Tsunami Relief in London. Apparently ratings were astronomical. Was Lucy back for good? Sadly no because Paul later said that Lucy has subsequently been bricked up inside of a chimney by the Mother Superior for her own good. Not Lucy's own good, mind you. For the Mother Superior's own good.
If you want a good giggle then Google "Lucy Savage Youtube". There are literally hours of her there to enjoy. How the bloody hell did this treasure slip through my fingers unnoticed for all of these years??? My Old-timers disease must be worse than I thought...
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
I've Just Remembered Why I Liked The 1980's So Much.
In a word, the "B-52's". What can I say, I love this band. How can you not? Skin tight mini-dresses, thigh high go-go boots, bee-hive hairdo's, plastic neon colored jewelry, hair colors that can only be described as raspberry, suicide blond and not found in nature and mascara for days. And those were just the guys in the group. The girls were a WHOLE lot more flashy!!! They were thrift store chic right out of the gate.
Their music was fun as hell and their sound was amazingly unique, a strange blend of New Wave, 1960's surfer style and cowbell. Yes, cowbell. And damned good cowbell to be truthful. I can only assume that mastering the cowbell is right up there with learning how to play the saw and still managing to keep all of your fingers...
I can remember the first time that I heard the B-52's. It was 1978 in San Francisco. I was sitting in a dumpy little gay bar called Toad Hall and "Rock Lobster" started blaring over the juke box. That bar came to LIFE in about half a nano-second. Holy shit, that song just rocks. Tonight on the radio they played a version of it I have never heard before, a 15 minute long extended dance mix. I was in heaven!!! Sea Squirt caught me in the kitchen just rocking out and doing the "robot". It was not pretty but as I like to say, sometimes you just gotta dance like nobody's watching.
Throughout the 80's and 90's the B-52's kept me smiling, laughing, dancing in elevators and singing at the top of my lungs in the car with the windows rolled all of the way up. I was known to freak the shit out of people when I was stopped at the lights. Hey, when songs like "Dry County", "Love Shack", "Bouncing Off The Satellite's", "Private Idaho", "Dance That Mess Around" and "Deadbeat Club" came on the stereo I just had to cut loose. I still do.
Today the group is still together, recording and touring and all of them approaching legal retirement age. But still up there on stage. Go-go boots and cowbells. Mini skirts and mile-high hairdos. Hip replacements and hearing aids. Lord, I certainly understand that one!!! They've been around for so long that they are now being "discovered" by a whole new generation. One young enough to be their grandchildren. Think about it... How cool must it be to tell your friends that your grandma or grandpa is in the B-52's??? Yep, that's my grandpa Fred up there with the cowbell and the Foster-Grants. I LOVE IT!!!
I raise my shot glass to Keith, Cindy, Kate and Fred. Guys, keep on shakin' that shack cause it still sounds damned good from here!!!
Their music was fun as hell and their sound was amazingly unique, a strange blend of New Wave, 1960's surfer style and cowbell. Yes, cowbell. And damned good cowbell to be truthful. I can only assume that mastering the cowbell is right up there with learning how to play the saw and still managing to keep all of your fingers...
I can remember the first time that I heard the B-52's. It was 1978 in San Francisco. I was sitting in a dumpy little gay bar called Toad Hall and "Rock Lobster" started blaring over the juke box. That bar came to LIFE in about half a nano-second. Holy shit, that song just rocks. Tonight on the radio they played a version of it I have never heard before, a 15 minute long extended dance mix. I was in heaven!!! Sea Squirt caught me in the kitchen just rocking out and doing the "robot". It was not pretty but as I like to say, sometimes you just gotta dance like nobody's watching.
Throughout the 80's and 90's the B-52's kept me smiling, laughing, dancing in elevators and singing at the top of my lungs in the car with the windows rolled all of the way up. I was known to freak the shit out of people when I was stopped at the lights. Hey, when songs like "Dry County", "Love Shack", "Bouncing Off The Satellite's", "Private Idaho", "Dance That Mess Around" and "Deadbeat Club" came on the stereo I just had to cut loose. I still do.
Today the group is still together, recording and touring and all of them approaching legal retirement age. But still up there on stage. Go-go boots and cowbells. Mini skirts and mile-high hairdos. Hip replacements and hearing aids. Lord, I certainly understand that one!!! They've been around for so long that they are now being "discovered" by a whole new generation. One young enough to be their grandchildren. Think about it... How cool must it be to tell your friends that your grandma or grandpa is in the B-52's??? Yep, that's my grandpa Fred up there with the cowbell and the Foster-Grants. I LOVE IT!!!
I raise my shot glass to Keith, Cindy, Kate and Fred. Guys, keep on shakin' that shack cause it still sounds damned good from here!!!
Saturday, September 3, 2011
My Pot Holders Are In The Bermuda Triangle!!!
OK, this is SO not a good way of doing business and whoever decided it was needs to be shot out of cannon!!!
It all started out simply enough. I decided to do a bit of online shopping, as I am very prone to do, at one of my favorite places, Kohls.com. Yes, I could just as easily driven less than two miles down the road and actually shopped at a Kohl's store but this just seemed easier. Or so I thought. I clicked onto the Clearance link (I LOVE that link) and quickly found a pot holder and towel set in a garishly attractive banana leaf motive that I just had to have for the grill accessories. In fact, they were so hideous that I ordered two sets just to be safe. What can I say, they were on sale. Originally $14.99 a set, clearance priced down to $4.79 a set. Then I threw a 20% discount coupon at them and gladly accepted the FREE shipping. Happy dance!!! Moments later I received a confirmation email letting me know that my order had been received, would be shipped FedEx standard ground and that they would email me again when my order was ready to be shipped. All seemed right with the world.
Then the second email arrived informing me that my order was ready to be shipped and would be using FedEx SmartPost standard ground. Wha??? A couple of Google's later and I knew more about SmartPost than I ever wanted to know. Twenty-seven pages worth to be exact and not a single good review anywhere amongst them. It seems that SmartPost is an evil entity in it's own right with the reliability factor of a fish with one leg. They are a small, independent parcel service that specializes in light weight shipments from online retailers that has been subcontracted by FedEx to do the little shit that they don't really want to be bothered with. Fuck, I've been outsourced. Anyway, they work by carting parcels to any one of more than a dozen scattered locations they have around the country that they call "Sortation Centers". Is that even a real word??? The object of all of this is to eventually get your parcel to a center that is closest to your delivery zip-code. Where they hand it over to the Postal Service to do the actual delivery. Wha??? In short, FedEx actually has nothing to do with the shipment whatsoever. Wha???
OK, so I've been able to track the package online and monitor it's "progress" (I use that term lightly) and I have to say, it's a total cluster fuck. On August 30th it left the Kohl's shipping center in Hazelton, OH and went to the Sortation Center in Grove City, OH. Twentyfour hours later it started its journey to the next Sortation Center in New Berlin, WI which is not only SmartPost's national headquarters, it is only 70 miles east of here. It was scanned in there at 11:19 pm on September 1st (that would be 48 hours ago) and until about 20 minutes ago had just been sitting there in limbo. A recent check of the tracking shows that it is on its way again to the next Sortation Center... In Harrisburg, PA!!! WTF?!?
With any luck I may still manage to receive my pot holders while it is still warm enough to grill out. But probably not. Who the hell does SmartPost have working at HQ, Jethro Bodine??? Some of Elly May's critters??? Granny after a couple of shots of "recipe"??? Duke???
Yes, I know, I shouldn't bitch, after all shipping was free. But I don't think that it qualifies my pot holders to get a Grand Tour of Europe in the process either. And the final insult? I don't get to wage a complaint until after my delivery is 22 days late past the "estimated" delivery date. And that would be September 29th. Hell, by then we could have snow on the ground and I could be in muck-lucks!!! I just want my jungle print pot holders and I want the motherfuckers god damned NOW!!!
It all started out simply enough. I decided to do a bit of online shopping, as I am very prone to do, at one of my favorite places, Kohls.com. Yes, I could just as easily driven less than two miles down the road and actually shopped at a Kohl's store but this just seemed easier. Or so I thought. I clicked onto the Clearance link (I LOVE that link) and quickly found a pot holder and towel set in a garishly attractive banana leaf motive that I just had to have for the grill accessories. In fact, they were so hideous that I ordered two sets just to be safe. What can I say, they were on sale. Originally $14.99 a set, clearance priced down to $4.79 a set. Then I threw a 20% discount coupon at them and gladly accepted the FREE shipping. Happy dance!!! Moments later I received a confirmation email letting me know that my order had been received, would be shipped FedEx standard ground and that they would email me again when my order was ready to be shipped. All seemed right with the world.
Then the second email arrived informing me that my order was ready to be shipped and would be using FedEx SmartPost standard ground. Wha??? A couple of Google's later and I knew more about SmartPost than I ever wanted to know. Twenty-seven pages worth to be exact and not a single good review anywhere amongst them. It seems that SmartPost is an evil entity in it's own right with the reliability factor of a fish with one leg. They are a small, independent parcel service that specializes in light weight shipments from online retailers that has been subcontracted by FedEx to do the little shit that they don't really want to be bothered with. Fuck, I've been outsourced. Anyway, they work by carting parcels to any one of more than a dozen scattered locations they have around the country that they call "Sortation Centers". Is that even a real word??? The object of all of this is to eventually get your parcel to a center that is closest to your delivery zip-code. Where they hand it over to the Postal Service to do the actual delivery. Wha??? In short, FedEx actually has nothing to do with the shipment whatsoever. Wha???
OK, so I've been able to track the package online and monitor it's "progress" (I use that term lightly) and I have to say, it's a total cluster fuck. On August 30th it left the Kohl's shipping center in Hazelton, OH and went to the Sortation Center in Grove City, OH. Twentyfour hours later it started its journey to the next Sortation Center in New Berlin, WI which is not only SmartPost's national headquarters, it is only 70 miles east of here. It was scanned in there at 11:19 pm on September 1st (that would be 48 hours ago) and until about 20 minutes ago had just been sitting there in limbo. A recent check of the tracking shows that it is on its way again to the next Sortation Center... In Harrisburg, PA!!! WTF?!?
With any luck I may still manage to receive my pot holders while it is still warm enough to grill out. But probably not. Who the hell does SmartPost have working at HQ, Jethro Bodine??? Some of Elly May's critters??? Granny after a couple of shots of "recipe"??? Duke???
Yes, I know, I shouldn't bitch, after all shipping was free. But I don't think that it qualifies my pot holders to get a Grand Tour of Europe in the process either. And the final insult? I don't get to wage a complaint until after my delivery is 22 days late past the "estimated" delivery date. And that would be September 29th. Hell, by then we could have snow on the ground and I could be in muck-lucks!!! I just want my jungle print pot holders and I want the motherfuckers god damned NOW!!!
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