LJ of DOOM

The trumpet child will blow his horn
Will blast the sky till it’s reborn
With Gabriel’s power and Satchmo’s grace
He will surprise the human race

The trumpet he will use to blow
Is being fashioned out of fire
The mouthpiece is a glowing coal
The bell a burst of wild desire

The trumpet child will riff on love
Thelonious notes from up above
He’ll improvise a kingdom come
Accompanied by a different drum

The trumpet child will banquet here
Until the lost are truly found
A thousand days, a thousand years
Nobody knows for sure how long

The rich forget about their gold
The meek and mild are strangely bold
A lion lies beside a lamb
And licks a murderer’s outstretched hand

The trumpet child will lift a glass
His bride now leaning in at last
His final aim to fill with joy
The earth that man all but destroyed

It's like his thoughts are too big for his size
He's been taking too much on
There he goes with his perfectly unkept hope
There he goes

Dear You Know Who,

Fuck you for your inconsideration.

Fuck you for your mindless self absorption.

Fuck you for expecting everyone else to be the grown up, when you so adamantly refuse the position.

Fuck you for not knowing better.

Fuck you for knowing better and doing it anyway.

Fuck you for hiding behind your cowardice or our interaction or your own belief in your puffed up sense of self entitlement---here's a hint: if you don't want people to have opinions about your life, don't fucking conduct your messy little shit in front of everyone and then ask them all to be blind. You aren't the only creatures on the planet.

Fuck your dishonesty.

Fuck your manipulative ness.

Fuck you and your sense of complete self immersion. Is it nice in the world you live in? Population: You and nobody else.

And fuck me for even caring in the first place.

Today, unexpectedly, I ended up at a funeral for a man who died this last Thursday.

In the truest sense of the word, I went to pay my respects. Once, he did a kind and incalculable thing for some people I cared about. In doing this thing, he was also kind to me.

So I went to represent those who chose not go, and to support those who would. And to pay my respects.

The church was simple, and poor, as a church should be. The pastor was female and Southern, which seems a fair compromise.

They played the guitar and the piano. The opening prayer was the Serenity Prayer.

We heard the story of his young life, embattled by the prejudices of the time. We heard of his life-long love of care taking for the fragile, broken animals of the world.

We heard how the war took his youth, took his mind. How the Agent Orange took his lung. And how the alcohol took his joy.

We sang Amazing Grace.

We heard how he found his grace again, and how he gave of himself even while honoring the solitude and meditation that helped keep him whole.

Then benediction was a prayer from St. Francis of Assisi.

In the receiving line I hugged his brother--a large man with tears in his eyes. I was very glad so many people had turned out for this---to show his family that even though he had been long away from them, he had still been loved.

I drove my sister and mother to eat. Then I went back to work.

This was a good thing to do. This was the right thing to do. I am tired and sad and so very, very bone weary from today. But at least for this moment, I am glad of my actions, and satisfied with my behavior. As many far wiser have noted before me, that is the function of funerals--to help the living.

I am neither that which conform to your ideals

Nor am I something that is beyond description

Oh, oh, dear, how I wish I was

And this would all mean something more

 

But I am dumb

And deaf

And blind

In a world that requires more

 

And sometimes water falls from my eyes

And I don’t know why

 

Alien in your own skin

Separated by the things that bring us together

Who am I to judge you?

Who are you to submit to my decrees?

 

There is nothing

Nothing

Nothing

Shanti

Shanti

adenuei

And in my best behavior
I am really just like him
Look beneath the floorboards
For the secrets I have hid

sometimes i drive my car with my toes
joints and varying pressure against the accelerator
and my thumb joints steering the great column home

and do they know?


that it's a simple toe twitch between them and oblivion?
do they care?
I would
I would
In a tight curve off a bridge with someone who wholeheartedly believes in acceleration through a curve

I would
I would
With someone in the car whose eyes roll back
and who finds themselves in ecstasy
Over a bass lick or a melody step down

Because I think we all know
that person is not trustworthy
That Pannic follower of song
they are not us

And if you catch then in their throes
Avert your eyes and walk on by
They are, as ever,
Separate from us.

Life has been crazy hectic lately. I actually worked 24 hours straight last Friday/Saturday. School is a bear. I'm working over the holiday weekend. I have to coordinate a long ass drive to NC and DC and make it happen, soon.

So, yeah, it's been kind of stressful.

Today I got to work around 8:00 am. I left around 9:00 pm. But you know what? It was one of the better birthdays I ever had.

Seems like every time I turned around someone had texted, emailed, waved me down in the hall, left a card on my desk, or even a present in my car.

I started the day off with a birthday wishes text.

My leetle sister brought me an apple/chocolate breakfast snack and a card. Yay!

My sis also ratted me out to the office, and then told Bef I was to be forced into going to lunch that day. (My sister, she weighs 40 lbs less than me and is worried that I'm not eating enough.) So people were stopping by to wish me well all day.

Bef bought me a beautiful present, and a beautifuller card. *sigh* Scottish Evening Wear.

Left my office and came back to find a car from my little brother.

Tried to track down Moo, ended up on phone with Doo. He managed to remember it was my birthday. Shocking!

Email birthday songs from DJCP, as well as a surprise gift left in my car that spells CERTAIN DOOM and ANNIHILATION for all mankind.

An LJ denizen who shall not be named *coughZogarcough* showed up at work with a beautiful card and the best present anyone can give: Bruce Campbell. Now it is certain that he is plotting my death.

My Moo sneak attacked and left me prezzies and a whole cake! Hilarious true story: I stored the cake in a restricted fridge at work. When I went to retrieve it tonight, someone had helped themselves to a slice. The human race is surely doomed, and it seems that all I can manage is amusement.

My 4:00 meeting serenaded me with the birthday song.

Got home and my out of town bro had sent me a birthday email.

All in all, a pretty damn good day.

Once I went to an expansive all you could want grocery in California.

And also, this happened:

I can't get to sleep
I think about the implications
Of diving in too deep
And possibly the complications

Especially at night
I worry over situations
I know I'll be alright
Perhaps it's just imagination

Day after day it reappears
Night after night my heartbeat shows the fear
Ghosts appear and fade away

Alone between the sheets
Only brings exasperation
It's time to walk the streets
Smell the desperation

At least there's pretty lights
And though there's little variation
It nullifies the night from overkill

Day after day it reappears
Night after night my heartbeat shows the fear
Ghosts appear and fade away
Come back another day

I can't get to sleep
I think about the implications
Of diving in too deep
And possibly the complications

Especially at night
I worry over situations
I know I'll be alright
It's just overkill

Day after day it reappears
Night after night my heartbeat shows the fear
Ghosts appear and fade away
Ghosts appear and fade away
Ghosts appear and fade away

Because I do not understand what I just saw.

I was flipping channels and caught a video. I watched initially because it seemed wacky.

I kept watching because I became convinced that it was an elaborate joke, and wanted to know what movie it was a part of.

The lyrics were asinine, the metaphor tragic, the styling was so over the top it was ludicrous, and I couldn't tell if the singer was male or female. I was actually hoping it was a drag performer.

Imagine my disquiet when I realized that "Poker Face" by Lady Gaga was a real video, an actual track from a real record.

It finally happened: I witnessed something that I cannot take seriously as music. I do not understand kids today, I guess.

I mean, seriously? What the fuck was that?

 

So, it's a working theorem that if you combine a variable number of geeks and expose them to multimedia geekdom stimulation that it will result in a multiplied and tangential sum of geekery.

 

In other words, if a bunch of geeks watch a geek movie, they will talk about geek-nerd-dork related subjects afterwards, stuff that extends far beyond the movie and into other realms and fandoms.

 

That is how we came to be discussing Star Trek after the Watchmen movie. Also, those clever dudes at the studios know their audience, so the trailers preceding Watchmen were the new Terminator movie, the new Star Trek movie, and Wolverine.

 

Watchmen movie: I don't think I can give an objective review of this. I am very unsure how it will play out for someone who hasn't read the comic, plot wise. If you haven't read the novel, go see the movie first, I think. The movie (any movie of this graphic novel) is incapable of being as densely layered as the source material. So the main driver is the mystery, and I think it would be easier to build on enjoyment of the movie by reading the novel, than to have all that back story with the novel and enjoy the movie more.

 

Having said that, the movie delivers for fanboys, I do believe. I really respect the editorial decision they made about the narrative--it's pared down, but without sacrificing the major plot points or character arcs. The visuals are beautiful and comic-book without being cartoony. Patrick Wilson and Jackie Earle Haley were spot on as Nite Owl II and Rorschach. And Jeffrey Dean Morgan is hot no matter what he does. Damn.

 

Terminator trailer: Fucking amateurs. Seriously, I will fucking kick its fucking ass. You know, it's fucking hard for me to concentrate when this movie is fucking around behind me. It's fucking distracting. (Okay, admittedly, it does look cool. I love you Christian, call me!)

 

Wolverine trailer: This just got doing some post-production major reshoots, supposedly of the Deadpool scenes. Interwebz rumors say it sucks. This trailer was teh awes0me111!! though. Unfortunately, it looks like they are going with a version of the disappointing (to me) Origins storyline (I mean, lumberjacks? Foppish son of landed gentry? Bleh.) But really, let me just help all you ladies out:

 

Hugh Jackman. Shirtless. Growly. Crazy haired. Shirtless. Sexy glaring. And without a shirt.

 

Your honor, I rest my case.

 

Star Trek--The Whole Tamale: Okay, the trailer for the new movie was the best I've seen, and I've pretty much decided I will go see this in the theaters. One of the big draws for me is Zachary Quinto as Spock. I saw a still with him in costume about a year ago, and I remember thinking: Damn, he might be able to pull this off.

 

(I mean, you have definitely got major slack in the portrayals of Chekhov and Sulu. You got some maneuvering room for Uhurua and Scotty. Bones will have to be recognizably grumpy. And Kirk is actually kind of off the hook--you can't imitate the Shat. That would be ridiculous. So a key figure gets to create his own vibe. But Spock? Hell to the no. If that character doesn't weigh in, the whole movie don't get to wrassle.)

 

I found a fun fact on Wiki, but stay away from the site unless you want spoilers for the movie. Bastards.

 

Fun fact: Adrien Brody was briefly in talks to play Spock. It's probably better that this didn't happen; I'm not sure how I'd feel about lusting after a bowl cut Vulcan. Probably not healthy, and I have enough celebrity dork crushes as it is. That would just be embarrassing.

 

Zogar already talked about the Great Star Trek Debate, but since there was so much confusion about which movie was what, I thought I would elucidate on the list. And have a tiny gloat about how much more ZOMGnerdgeekl33t I was. (Which is not much, because I couldn't even remember the names of the Next Generation installments. I was using obscure plot points to reference them). Also, I am lifting the plot summaries from Wiki, but the "You would remembers" come from me, so feel free to correct.

 

Title--Star Trek: The Motion Picture.

Plot summary: Kirk, now an Admiral, retakes command of the freshly upgraded Enterprise to stop a hostile and sentient massive energy cloud advancing toward Earth.

You would remember: That hot bald chick. VEGER! Not much else unless you've rewatched it within the last 20 years. (I have not.)

 

Title--Star Trek: The Wrath of Khan

Plot Summary: While The USS Reliant is exploring test sites for the Genesis terraforming Project, it is hijacked by Khan Noonien Singh, bent on revenge against Kirk who frustrated his plans to build a race of superhumans.

You would remember: Ricardo Montalban!! Your first introduction to such literary greats as Moby Dick and A Tale of Two Cities. More quotes than you can shake a stick at. I think Kirstie Alley was in this one. Those Vulcan chicks love them some Kirk! Spock eats it. Kobayashi Maru! (My martial arts teacher once explained a move as a Kobayashi Maru. I was the only person in the class who started laughing. Outed as geek once again).

 

 

Title--Star Trek: The Search for Spock

Plot Summary: Concerned about McCoy's unstable condition since Spock's death, Kirk learns that in his final moments, Spock transferred his katra, or spirit, to the doctor. To reunite Spock with his soul, Kirk must violate a quarantine law and steal the Enterprise to retrieve Spock's body from the Genesis Planet.

You would remember: Some interesting leather jackets that make the future look like its major fashion influence were 1976 pimp culture. Another hot Vulcan chick that looked kinda like Adrienne Barbeau (Savek?). Christopher Lloyd as a Klingon that eats so much scenery that William Shatner actually lost weight during this movie. Death of Kirk Jr. (I know that’s not his real name. But fuck David, he was a whiny bastard).

 

Also, this movie contains the second part of quotation began in the Wrath of Khan. This quote is a Star Trek original, and essentially illustrates the opposing philosophical differences between the Utilitarian movement and Immanuel Kant.

 

II statement: The needs of the many out weigh the needs of the few, or the one.

III response: Because sometimes the needs of the one outweigh the needs of the many.

 

Title--Star Trek: The Voyage Home.

Plot Summary: Kirk and his crew head for Earth to stand at their court martial for the theft of the late Enterprise, and its subsequent destruction, when they find Earth under siege by a giant probe, transmitting a signal -- intended for the extinct humpback whales. Kirk takes his crew back to the late 20th century to retrieve some.

You would remember: Humpback whales, obviously. Set in our times. “Nuclear Wessel.” Scotty speaking into the primitive computer, using a mouse. Spock wandering around with a headband on to hide his ears. My personal fave memory: Kirk explaining Spock’s odd behavior to modern humans: He did a little too much L.D.S in the 60s.

 

Title--Star Trek: The Final Frontier

Plot Summary: Exiled from Vulcan, Spock's emotional half-brother Sybok believes he is called by God and hijacks the partially-retrofitted Enterprise-A to take it to the Great Barrier at the centre of the Milky Way to meet his maker.

You would remember: Not much, if you’re lucky. Spock’s brother is like Moses on crack. Sandstorms. Some really squicky stuff about opening up and sharing/feeling each others pain. And apparently God looks a lot like that central computer thing in Tron.

 

Title--Star Trek: The Undiscovered Country

Plot Summary: After their homeworld is wracked by an environmental disaster, the Klingons attempt to make peace with the Federation though many on both sides are opposed. Just before the summit conference, Kirk and McCoy are arrested for murder of a Klingon chancellor.

You would remember: What? Crap, I thought this was the title of the last one. I think this involves Iman making out with the Shat, that lucky bastard. Isn’t there an icy prison planet? Holy crap—I don’t remember jack shit about this one. I think Christian Slater has a cameo.

 

Shameful online research reveals two things I should have remembered: Omer will remember this one for Kim Cattrall. Christopher Plummer is a major baddie.

 

Title--Star Trek: Generations

Plot Summary: An energy ribbon cuts a swath through the galaxy on the day of the maiden voyage of the newly commissioned Enterprise-B, and Kirk is presumed killed in an encounter with it. 78 years later, Picard and his crew race against time to stop Tolian Soren, a scientist intent on deflecting it off course to re-experience the euphoria experienced inside it.

You would remember: Picard and Kirk, together at last! Whoopi Goldberg hangs out in some funky hats. Malcom McDowell tries to blow up the universe—he’s always causing trouble. First of the “Next Generation” movies.

 

Title--Star Trek: First Contact

Plot Summary: The crew of the Enterprise pursues the Borg back in time as they threaten to prevent first contact between Humans and Vulcans, thus destroying the Federation before its founding.

You would remember: DON’T PISS OFF THE BORG QUEEN! Continuation of Data’s Pinocchio storyline. James Cromwell hangs around and drinks a bit. Picard really hates the Borg.

 

Title--Star Trek: Insurrection

Plot Summary: The crew of the Enterprise aids a rebellion on the Baku homeworld against Picard’s superior officer, Admiral Dougherty, who wants to relocate the Baku to gain possession of the medicinal cosmic radiation that floods their planet.

You would remember: This was when you realized that Patrick Stewart and Brent Spiner were madly in love with each other. You probably wanted to wash your brain after enduring it. The bad guy was the evil composer from Amadeus! He’s never up to any good either.

 

Title--Star Trek: Nemesis

Plot Summary: Captain Picard confronts the villainous new Romulan leader Shinzon, a younger genetic clone of himself who kidnaps him to replenish his own DNA while plotting to destroy Earth. The story also involves a predecessor of Data named B-4.

You would remember: SPOILER: Data croaks. Data’s clone is called B-4: get it? Get it? Data’s death is kinda pointless. Introduces the Remans, close neighbors of the Romulans. Like Romulus and Remus, get it? Get it? Some other crap happens. Does Troi dump Worf for Riker? Where the hell is Wesley? Where are the hot Vulcan babes?

 

Having done this retrospective, the notion that all the even numbered movies are great and odds suck seems to hold a lot less water. This took forever.

FUUUUUUUUUUCK. They have discontinued my favorite, my ONLY bra.

AUUUUGGGHHHHH! Fuck you Victoria's Secret. Not everyone in the world wants a push up cross halter lace inset plunging vee bra, you fuckwits.

Look, you are probably thinking: what's the big deal? A bra is a bra is a bra.

To which I respectfully reply: shut the fuck up, fucktard. Finding a good bra is akin to finding the comfortable shoes, right pair of jeans and perfect hoodie all rolled into one. IT'S THAT FUCKING IMPOSSIBLE TO FIND.

And for all you men out there that don't sport mansierres (or bros), it's a necessary piece of equipment. It's vital. Everything else you don can fit like a dream, but if your bra is jacked, your day is whacked.

This fucking sucks. In case I hadn't made that obvious yet.

*********

In other news, as many of you know my ghetto fabulous phone went D-E-D-dead on me last week. My phone was so old.

HOW OLD WAS IT?

It was so old that they don't even make the battery for it anymore (which was what had crapped out). So I had to buy a new, crappier phone. I call bullshit mcshittersons on this one. That phone was less than 4 years old. And they had almost the *exact same* model still in production.

Main difference? 1/8th of inch slimmer battery.

I declare them all cocksuckers, with their preplanned obsolescence. It's like you get punished for not being a rampant consumer and/or taking care of the things you own.

"What, you've had that {insert device} for 3 years? We don't even make that {insert device}anymore. In fact, we now make Martian babies and invest in Mexican porn. Loser."

Anyhoo, I'm collecting digits. Because also, I apparently didn't save my numbers correctly. See, you can't just save them. You have to save them twice. And use the secret handshake. And put your left hand on red and your right testicle on green.

So, like, text me your digits or something. Word.

*********

Speaking of retiring, I must advise of some bittersweet news: Evil Betty, the White Saturn Scourge, has gone off to that big puppy farm in the sky.

Though she served me well, Betty had developed a persistent death rattle in her motor. As is the way of my people, rather than fix her I had her taken out back and shot.

Well, metaphorically shot. I traded her in and got a whopping $500 for her. Which felt like a shot to my pride--I mean, I figured the sound system I put in was worth at least a couple hundred extra. And how can you put a dollar figure on a car that has ferried your sorry ass for the last 5-6-7 whatever years?

Well, you can put a dollar figure of about $500 on it when the KBB is $2,400, and it will cost a minimum of $3,000 to replace the failing motor.

So, fare thee well, Betty. May you be refurbished and ride again.

*******

I didn't want to besmirch Betty's memory, but she has been replaced. Yes, there's someone new in my life, but since the christening isn't official yet, I shall not name it here. I'm sure I'll l update soon. Because I know you all really care and are hanging on my every word.

*********

The Boss is touring again. I personally enjoyed the extreme Springsteen 100 mph crotch shot of doom during the Super Bowl. If porn was like that, I'd own it all.

**********

P.S. If you love Christian Bale, you probably don't want to listen to this. Holy Shit.



More story here: http://www.celebitchy.com/34387/christian_bale_verbally_attacks_co-worker_on_terminator_salvation/

you will pass them by
and some may have crossed sticks
and some may have crossed wire
but listen closely and you will hear

it's the same voice that rings truest
in each choir

that chorus bears out the melody
that blows from gabriel's horn
and whether you subscribe to their beliefs
they'll see their visions born

************

Tonight was:

"Relationships are probably as complex as people."
fizzy champagne
"Littering and. . ."
desperately trying not to say it outloud
"Litre is French, for give me the fucking cola."
Back rubs and hand works
Over The Rhine
Sam Cooke
Smokey R.
Journey
Police, et al
I wanna do bad things with you
Carrie Underwood (?)
Oh shit, what time do I have to be up?
**********
one day i'll figure it all out. you'll know this happened because i won't be around any more.

or
Fuck Me Running

Ever since I took this new job, I've been aggressively paying down my debts, both credit card and loan wise. It's taken over three years, but just this last month I began to see the light at the end of the tunnel.

Now, I had a considerable amount of debt, and not much income for some time. And it's not as if I haven't accrued extra debt in the interim. Part of getting the pay raise with this new job has been the ability to explore worlds heretofore only mythical in my universe: lands of straight teeth and Laser!Eyes. And it's not as though I've been living an ascetic life, either.

So, with some judicious planning and an pay out approaching the $1K/month mark, I've managed to keep up with, and slowly whittle away at the car and credit card albatrosses I've had round my neck since about 2004.

My first ever you-worked-super-hard (and only, to date) merit bonus was about 1.5 years ago, and allowed me to pay off my car. Just last week, I made the final payment on what had been my largest c/c debt and turned my hopeful eye towards being debt-free within 6 months.

I felt so good, I actually expressed my joy. Out loud. Where the evil gods of Fuck You could hear it.

Ha. Ha ha. Hahahahahahahaha. I think you already know the ending to this tale.

So, I take my car in today for an oil change and to check out this rattling sound that sprung up Thursday. As in yesterday. Loose muffler, maybe?

Survey says: NO MOTHERFUCKER! The answer, of course, is "What is a replacement for your motor for about $3-4K?"

How foolish of me, to feel joy and accomplishment, even for a moment.

Other factors to consider: today is also when the president-elect announced a new stimulus package. Many times in my life, sudden economic crises have occurred in tandem with what would otherwise be windfalls, such as income tax refunds, holiday bonuses, etc.

Ironic coincidence, or god's continued bitter hatred of me manifesting as a slow and soul-crushing death via disappointment? You make the call.

In summation: Shit. Fuck. Shitfuck.

Because this is so much nicer than the things in my head. But, please, be careful. This could Fuck You Up For Life.

That's how we roll around here. It ain't fun until somebody might get dead behind it.

Lethal Weapon Drinking Game

One Drink
" Trish's car gets fucked up
" Leo asks for a gun
" A gun is shown, but not fired
" Anytime Riggs coerces Murtaugh
" Riggs pulls Three Stooges schtick
" Murtaugh says "I'm too old for this shit."
" Murtaugh mentions retirement.
" Riggs makes a horrible pun
" Riggs bonds with a dog
" Riggs tries to smoke a cigarette
" Police shrink tries to intervene
" Murtaugh freaks out over Rhianne and Riggs
" Someone mentions Trish's bad cooking


Two Drinks
" Riggs mentions dead wife
" Captain says "Fuck"
" Anyone besides Murtaugh says "I'm too old for this shit."
" Riggs dislocates his shoulder
" Riggs gets the shit beaten out of him
" Riggs or Murtaugh get wet
" Riggs or Murtaugh take a bullet
" A "good guy" dies
" Martin or Rog are naked/in their underwear (partial disrobement counts)

Back from the whirlwind Omer and Cara wedding extravaganza. Among the attendees were LJ denizens c2tink, j_dog, blau and androit.

Since j_dog and I were there, you know this had to turn out to be a musical, but many other amazing and wonderful things happened, hurney, some of them which is:

*Beautiful wedding. Simple and tasteful, a fun DJ, gorgeous weather. And just really lovely to see my friend so happy.

*If you visit c2tink and androit, and they mention going to the Burmese restaurant, for the love of all that is holy and good, FUCKING GO IMMEDIATELY. How good was it? Okay, I am hungry right now, but I don't want to order any food from my trusty chineses delivery place. Because in my heart I know I'll just be disappointed. So I'm sitting here being hungry instead.

That's how good it was. Make ya jump up and slap your momma.

*Weather in Monterey is real beautifur. Not as lovely as when I visited Hollywood, but still amazing. Hey you guys, did you know that in some parts of the world the month of September does not include a heat index of 97 degrees? I know, crazy, right?

*And I quote: I'm gonna goddamn tell you one time all about it right now oh yeah I said it OOOOOO EEEA AAA ...... YEAAHAHAHAHAH....... WHOOO....... WHOOOO.

God bless DLR. If you have never had the pleasure, you must Google the "vocals only" track for "Running With The Devil." You don't have to randomly sing it afterwards, but I defy you to try not to.

*Getting to see Omer. "Oh yes, von't you save us. . . from all ze money?"

*Learning two new dice games from J. AND THEN SPANKING HER AZZ IN BOTH OF THEM. For reals. She had to borrow money from a German just to stay in the game. AND I STILL TOOK ALLA HER CASH FLOW. She's my hooker now.

*Meeting my cousin Woody* and his lovely wife, Gina. (*don't know if he's really my cousin, but it's a fair shake we are probably related)

*Endless recreations of the incredible Michael McDonald/Pattie LaBelle duet "On My Own." And the fact that this led to a viewing of "Yacht Rock" on the interwebz. To quote the show, "Fuck you, Loggins."

*j_dog's ad hoc Amy Winehouse impressions, involving elaborate conversations with Mayonnaise. This culminated in an attempt to play matchmaker between Mayo, Mustard, and Tossed Salad. Date to be held in Winehouse's belly. You probably really had to be there for this one, but J probably deserves some kind of improv show based off this moment.

*"Dude, seriously. I'm terrified."

*Immigrant Song. This one should maybe be a given at this point.

*The Corolla-coaster lives!

*Speaking of wild rides, it's always fun for me to experience the blau Audi of Supersonic Death. I know my companions don't feel the same (see above "terrified" quote), but it's cheaper than going to the fair, and probably faster.

Many thanks to tink and androit for hosting and hauling my ass all over middle-ish California. Although I didn't help solve the incredible Homework Conundrum, I like to think that I contributed in my own way. Mainly by saving you. From all the martinis. And bringing the joy of the Engineer's Guide to Cats into your lives.

And just to prove that there really is a magical circle of life, check out this shit from one of my favorite pop culture/movie review sites:

I?m just glad that Kilmer is getting roles again. Fun Fact: He?s set to star in as many as 16 films over the next two years, including Dirt, where he?s rumored to play David Lee Roth in a Motley Crue biopic. And you know what?s even better: Christopher Walken is rumored to play Ozzy Osbourne.

That would be the greatest movie. Ever.

I pulled this quote from an eloquent, succinct post off a blog post by John Seery. He's talking about Sarah Palin, but I imagine his summation could be used by any party or pundit to attack the opposition this year (bold emphasis mine):

Yes, she can bring a bunch of white people to their feet chanting USA, USA, USA. Good for her. But true leadership in these difficult times will require actual knowledge, not just personality. This world of ours, the past hundred years, has too frequently witnessed the dangers--nay, the evils--of compensatory nativism. Citizens in our own country should have learned one of the major lessons of these last eight years, namely that conviction should not serve as a trump card over competence.To me, Sarah Palin's grin looks like the grin of someone who doesn't feel she needs to think twice before pulling the trigger.

Those are sentiments worth thinking about. We've probably long been in immersed in worshipping a cult of personality, but the political maneuverings of the last 16 years seem to have reach new levels of grotesque. Or maybe we are just finally seeing the machine in all its glory.

But it's no longer enough to have your own charisma and attack your opponent's policies and slap him around on a televised debate. These last 12 to 16 years you must completely assassinate the character of your opponent. Ideological differences are not sufficient: he must be evil, wretched, lying, criminal and fraudulent.

You must be brought to believe that not only does the opposition not deserve the post, they actually belong in jail. And probably have ties to our enemies. And are involved in secret plots to empower fringe groups. And eat babies.

Have we so given up on holding politicians to their word on their policies and agendas? I can believe it, in a way. No one believes their promises, or wants to take the time to understand the overly complicated and ridiculously complex political system, so we focus on the easy answers, the gut reaction. Do we like him? Do we trust his face?

And, veering toward the darker side of human nature: does he go to my church, believe in my god? Does he uphold my beliefs? Is he my color? Is he my kind? And in making these assessments, people seem to forgo their hard-won cynicism and blindly accept what the candidates offer. Does it not follow that these issues, to a large extent, can be lied about as well? That the "personal story" can be manipulated and recalibrated to appeal to you? That they could be lying about being Just Like You?

I don't like politics, but I don't think you can wholly ignore them. No matter how unempowered and disenfranchised you feel, you still have a vote. If for nothing else than to cancel the vote of that insane asshole you work with.

Subject line is the title of the Van Gogh painting used for the month of August in my calendar.

It's simple and almost stark. Of course, it's very beautiful.

Had I not read the title, I would never have regarded the sky in the painting as stormy. I don't know the dimension of the canvas, but it seems very large, a panoramic view.

I feel that if I could have a painting like this, mounted on wall somewhere, then perhaps I could sit and stare and find a measure of peace.

Tibbs is my sister's cat, 16 years old. AKA Tubbie Smalls and Tiny Tender Tubbs.

I have had the pleasure of knowing many amazing cats over the years, and Tibbs is probably the most incredible of them all.

She is: Made Of Love. No bigger than a minute, weighing in at 6lbs. She never made it past the kitten stage. She's still the softest cat I've ever petted.

She still zooms around like a cat 1/4 her age. She plays chase, allowing my brother to stomp after her, only to turn the tables and force him up the stairs.

She'll tell you all about it. One of the most vocal cats I've ever known, you can carry on a conversation with Tibbs. She will respond to your inquiries. Her range of tones and inflections are varied, and she's not shy about telling you to make quick with the food.

She cannot abide being pet without reciprocating. This means lots of licking, and she has bodaciously bad breath. But if you love on Tibbs, she feels compelled to love on you.

She is a purring machine. You can make Tibbs purr from across the room, just by saying her name.

She is the originator of the often imitated but never duplicated Godzilla Face. When you displease Tibbs, you get the Godzilla Face. It's uncanny, but unfortunately for Tibbs, also hysterical. Perhaps her bad moods don't get the gravitas they deserve.

I have known Tibbs for over half my life.

Yesterday they told us that Tibbs has kidney failure. There are details to work out, but not many. It could be a few weeks, or at most, 5 months. You'd never know it to look at her--still spry, still talkative, still demanding more wet food.

If you've never really loved a pet, it's hard to describe the horrible sense of loss something like this causes. I haven't lived in the same house as Tibbs for over 11 years now. But she's still a fixture in my life. My roommate-brother has her sister, Elektra, here with us. They're like little mirrors of each other.

I almost started crying today when my mom told me this news. In the back of my mind I actually heard this voice go "Oh no, not Tibbs!" That tiny little terror of a cat has brought more joy and love to my family than I could ever hope to. She's worth a million of me. She's this little bundle of perfect.

I love you, Tibbs. You're the best cat ever.

As anyone unfortunate enough to hang out with me knows, it's that time of year.

For those of you not in the know, your Freebies list is your list of celebrities/musicians/actors/whatever that "don't count." In other words, even if you're in a committed relationship, if you encounter any of these people and the opportunity presents itself, you may sleep with them. With impunity. And roofies, if necessary.

Now, don't confuse this with an "All Time Greatest Hits" list, which allows you to travel through time and list the ass you'd like to tap from any era (say, Cary Grant or Natalie Woods). No, the yearly Freebies List has to be people that are in the here and now. (Unless necrophilia is your bag).

Also, do not confuse this with a "Want to Marry Them and Have Ten Thousand of Their Babies" type list. This is all about the booty. Call. That is. Black Gold.Texas tea.

For my list this year, I tried to take into consideration certain logistics, such as:
--likelihood of the person's lifespan
--likelihood of their bang-a-bility-span (how much longer will they be snog-worthy?)
--who do I really, truly want RIGHT NOW, in this moment?

So, after two days of intense deliberation and discussion with my aid-de-camps (Crizz and Bef), I present you my (for right now) Top Five. I encourage to post yours on your LJs. Share the perv!

1. Robert Downey Jr.: This is kinda a gimme, this year. I mean, come on, the friggin suit was even sexy, with the sexy hips and the sexiness of the sexy undershirts and the sexy poses and stuff and junk. And the eyes. And the voice. And the hair. Can I get some ice water?

2. Sam Waterston: My love for Sam is well known. He is in the Top 5 Best Hair of All Time. And he sells insurance against robutz. And he's motherfucking Jack McCoy! And Sam is getting up there, so I need to hit that shit before his bones become too brittle to withstand the might of my love. (I'm going for crass here, I hope that's coming across).

Also wik--eyebrows. Exactly.

3. Gerard Butler: Even though Gerry will surely be in his prime for many years to come, I just can't help it. He is so super dorky and adorable when he's not busy being Made of Abdominal Muscles. Again, with the good hair. And then there's the Scottish thing, which never hurts. Sure, he's way too tall, but what the hell. Nobody's perfect.

4. Matthew Gray Gubler: I'm not sure I want to explain this one, even if I could. This is NOT my type, in any way. This is a passing thing, and will be over soon.

But right now, I could break this boy in half.

5. Bruce Springsteen: This was a highly contested final spot, but the Boss wins. There's the age factor (as in, he might be getting a little too up there soon.) There's also the fact that I saw him literally pole dance during his concert. Listen here, this sumbitch jumped around so much on stage he made me tired.

And convinced me that he is in really, really good shape.

********

As I mentioned, this list took a ton of revision, so here are the honorable mentions from this year's deliberations. In no particular order:

-Hugh Laurie
-Stewart Copeland (this would be more like an amusement park ride or experiencing a tsunami, I think. I think you would get a t-shirt, "I Survived Stewart Copeland")
-Clive Owen (when I told this to a room full of straight men, they all nodded at this name)
-Daniel Craig
-Hugh Jackman
-George Clooney
-Bruce Campbell,now and forever
-Joaquin Phoenix
-Stephen Colbert: smart IS sexy
-Eddie Izzard: see above. In or out of drag.
-Ian McShane: this one makes me shiver.
-Gabriel Byrne: almost beat out Bruce for number 5 spot
-David Straithairn
-Sam Elliott: like fine wine, Sam can wait a few more years and still be good
-Mike Rowe: dirty, rough, tumble, sings opera. Perfect?
-Kiefer Sutherland
-Russell Crowe
-Sting
-Patrick Dempsey

That, by the way, is the abridged list.