Did you ever get the feeling....

That some people got in a lot of trouble at the women studies mixer?

Did you ever get the feeling....

That if they made the Twilight movies in the sixties they might not have been as popular?

An upset in the poll!

It looks like Robert B. Parker won our poll of favorite mystery or suspense writers.

I guess TV detectives are pretty popular. Who knew?

Repeat tonight at 8pm on What Not to Wear

Our episode with Heather is repeated tonight on TLC's What Not to Wear at 8pm EST.

It was a very good episode for us as she had a lot of fun with our clothes and bought a lot of them.

So check it out if you missed it last time.

Hey it's snow kidding!

In Italian. Just sayn'

You neve know who will show up!

It's just the way it goes.

How the Great Spirit Named the Animal People

The Great Spirit called all his people together from all over the earth. There was to be a change. He would give names to the people, and the Animal World was to rule. The naming was to begin at the break of day, each one having the right to choose his or her name according to who came first to the Spirit Chief's lodge. The Spirit Chief would also give each one their duty to perform in the changed conditions.

It was the night before the New World. Excitement was among the people. Each one desired a great name of note. All wished to be awake and first at the lodge of the Great Spirit Chief. Everyone wanted power to rule some tribe, some kingdom of the Animal World.

Coyote was of a degraded nature, a vulgar type of life. He was an imitator of everything that he saw or heard. When he asked a question, when he asked for information and it was given him, he would always say, "I knew that before! I did not have to be told." That was Coyote's way. He was hated by all the people for his ways. No one liked him. He boasted too much about his wisdom, about everything. Coyote went among the anxious people, bragging to everyone how early he was going to rise, how he would be the first one at the Spirit Chief's lodge. He bragged of the great name he would choose. He said, "I will have three big names to select from: there is Grizzly Bear, who will be ruler over all running, four-footed animals; Eagle, who will lead all the flying birds; Salmon, who will be chief over all the fish of every kind."

Coyote's twin brother, who took the name of Fox, said to him, "Do not be too sure. Maybe no one will be given his choice of names. Maybe you will have to retain your own name, Coyote. Because it is a degraded name, no one among the tribes will want to take it.

(from Mourning Dove (Hum-isha-ma; Christal Quintasket), Coyote Tales (1933))

Laura Bush's Diary

Well I have to tell you I had a pretty shitty Labor Day Weekend. You see W wanted to go see his folks so we had to go up to Kennebunkport and hang with Poppy and the bug eyed twat. They are getting on in years so we want to be sure to see them as much as we can. I mean I love Poppy. Who doesn't love Poppy? He is a wonderful kind man who has done so much for me and the country as well. But his fuckin hose bag of a wife is another kettle of rancid smelly fish.

You see old Barb has been on the warpath lately. She is pissed because Jeb is not running for President. He was always her favorite. At least until he married the maid. Eventually she got over it and started pressing Poppy to put him in as President. But when he went back to the Trilateral commission they all preferred W. So he go in there before her fair haired boy and the old harridan has been pissed ever since.

Now don't get me wrong. W loves his Mama and she loves him in her way. She just loves other things more. Jeb. Tequila. Oh yeah and midget rassling.

So we are sitting up there having a barbeque. All the kids are running around playing sports expect for Jeb's daughter who is torching up an eight ball behind the gazebo. W and Poppy are sitting on the lawn laughing at a bloopers clip they made of the Jug Eared Jesus' TV appearances. Which is basically every speech the dumb fuck makes. And I am stuck on the porch with Doro and the evil pop eyed twat. Barb is knocking back tequila shots and cracking walnuts with her thighs. She has extremely strong thighs by the way. She needed them to force Poppy to complete the job when he went south of the border. He didn't do it all that often so when he did she imprisoned him there till he got the job done. Poor Poppy would get all disoriented and confused and dehydrated before he was done. I think that was where he came up with the thousand points of light bullshit. That's what he saw before he was finished. Hee.

So Barb is cracking the walnuts and spitting in her spittoon and just being a disgusting old hag like she always did. We had to listen to a monologue of bullshit as usual. How Jeb should be President. How Sarah Palin was a whore because Caribou Barbie might get the nomination instead of her Jebby. Eventually she was going to get down to me and how I was a no good mother since I don't have any grand children and what not. So had to distract her. Luckily I had just the thing.

"Hey Barb you smelly old twat did you hear what they are putting on TruTV?" I asked the octogenarian asshole.

"No what another rip off show in a Pawn Shop where a buncha schvartzes are getting reamed by a greasy Hebe?" she sputtered.

"They already got one of those. No there is a new show you're gonna love. Starring Hulk Hogan. Guess what bitch. It's Midget Wrestling. That's right. Tiny little people in spandex jumping on each other. It's the Micro Wrestling Federation and they are gonna have a show on TruTV this Fall. I bet your depends just got wet you filthy hosebag." I had to laugh.

"Are you lying to me like the time you ran over your ex boyfriend you pasty faced bitch.?" she screeched.

"No Mama" said Doro who is W's sister. "It's true. I saw the commercials. I hope you aren't going to invite them here like you used to do in the White House."

"Shut up stupid. If they really are going to do this I am inviting them all here. Wheel me into the library I have to call Cheney on the Bat Phone. He will set it up. Com'on snap to it before I snap your pencil neck you idiot!"

So Doro wheeled her in the library and we didn't see her for the rest of the weekend. Everybody was overjoyed about that. She just kept calling for more tequila and walnuts. Oh and a kielbasa. Thank God Jeb's wife was there since we had to give our Mexicans off for the Holiday.

After all it was Labor Day.

What happens when a villain becomes a hero?

Ever since I got my kindle I have intrigued by these books that you can download for 99 cents. I mean how could that be bad? You are not making a big investment in time or money as they are generally short stories that you can just breeze through with out stopping to come up for air.

The great Lawrence Block talks about his stories that he is putting on Amazon for that great low price. It is a way to encourage short stories and novellas and such. I already have most of these stories in various collections I have bought through the years but will buy them again for a dollar. Just to have them on the kindle to pull up at my leisure.

Anyhoo, I got this crazy book called Thor Meets Captain America!

I found it by just typing in Captain America in the search function of the kindle and it popped right up. What it is about is an alternative universe where the Norse Gods of Asgard decide to ally themselves with the Germans during World War 2 and stop them from losing. Then Loki of all people rescues the Jews in the concentration camps and magically transports them to Israel.

And Loki becomes an ally of the United States and the Free World as they battle the Nazi's up till the 1960's! A villain becomes a hero! Dogs and Cats lie down together! Who would have thunk it.

Its a small idea and perfect for a novella. I haven't finished it yet but it is a pretty quick read. For 99 cents you can't beat it.

Plus the whole idea will give some people a heart attack. Just sayn'

Did you ever get the feeling....

That you need more art in your life?

Did you ever get the feeling....

That the ironrailsironweights guy has a problem?

Did you ever get the feeling....

That Carol Herman kinda looks like Madonna?

Did you ever get the feeling....

That famous Russian Authors wrote very bad porno?

Did you ever get the feeling....

That the evil monkey showed up at you house and is pointing fingers.

Oh yeah there is sort of game tonight or something?

I know Garage Mahal is all dressed up and in front of his TV.

New Orleans 40-7.

Fashions Night Out

We are having "Fashion Night Out" at Lee Lee's Valise tonight.

The champagne is on ice.

I have made up the prosciutto, fresh mozzarella, tomato and basil finger sandwiches.

The racks are full of great clothes.

LET"S PARTY!!!!!!!!!!!!

Heather is coming back to Lee Lee's

I don't know if you saw "What Not to Wear" this Tuesday but we were on again and the subject was Heather who got the full makeover treatment at Lee Lee's. Well she has stayed in contact with us on Facebook and Twitter and is coming to the store tonight for "Fashions Night Out."

It always feels great when someone who came because of "What Not to Wear" wants to shop in the store after the show is over.

It should be a fun night out.

Nobody wants to hang around with the Real Housewives of Beverly Hills.

Wait let me rephrase that.

Ever since Russell Armstrong who is one of the husbands in the Real Housewives of Beverly Hills hung himself last month, there has been a lot of speculation about how they were going to handle it. His wife Taylor is an obvious grifter and a big part of her storyline was how this douche abused her and they went to therapy and they would eventually divorce. So this guy offed himself right before the season started.

Many thought they should cancel the season but they spent too much money and there would be too much interest in it to not show it. So they are editing around it.

The first scene was a gathering of all the other housewives where they bullshitted about how they had no idea and they didn't really know him. The word is that they trashed him from pillar to post the whole series and that is why he hung himself. In any event we won't be seeing any of that this season. In fact any glimpse of the future corpse will be pretty funky if I do say so myself.

It will be interesting to see how they handle it.

Marilyn's Diary

Uncle Herman I were very close. We didn't have any secrets. I knew about his athletes foot and when he had to get the bolts in his neck tightened. And he always knew when I had my period. He actually loved that. He called it crime scene se.....errr he was just interested in everything about me.

That is why it was such a shock when he started dating Carol. He was always on the phone with her whispering and talking where no one could hear. He even got one of the first car phones for the Munstermoblie. At night he used to go out to the garage and turn on the radio and listen to the Dodgers and talk on the phone. We thought it was business. And it was. Monkey business.

You can't trust someone who spends too much time in a garage.

So SM Stirling did it to me again!

The latest volume in the Emberverse Series came out called "The Tears of the Sun."

This is the one he has been pimping for the last year by letting out a couple of chapters every month to whet our appetites. So I got it downloaded to my Kindle yesterday and I finished already.

Now I have to wait another fuckin year for the next one.

This book is ok but it is pretty much filler. Just like the latest in George RR Martin's series. It is full of action but it doesn't really move the story forward. In fact it really is just a big flashback that is not moving the story forward at all and leaves us spinning our wheels. I get that it is thought to turn out a book a year. But if that is your pace you should really move the story along. Stirling is one of my favorite writers but this book was kind of a disappointment.

If you were gonna buy Garage Mahal a Christmas Present

Get him the new book by Ernie Palladiano called "Lombardi and Landry: How Two of Pro Football's Greatest Coaches Launched Their Legends and Changed the Game Forever."

It is about the most important part of their careers......when they were assistant coaches for the New York Football Giants!

It all went downhill from there!

Remembrance of things Pabst

I used to get in trouble for the company I would keep.

Back in the day when I was out bouncing around I would end up in conversations with the craziest people in the craziest places. I always had a good word for them and liked to listen to their stories. The problem is that when you heard it once it was most often the same sad story the next time you talked to them. So I learned to give the polite brush off. I would not sit next to them but always say hello and how you doing. Then go to the back to make a call or put some money in the juke box. I was looking for babes so that was always a good excuse but I met some characters let me tell you.

So I have a relatively high tolerance for eccentric dialogue. I always wanted to be a writer and I thought listen to people and their stories would be a help to me in that. I never got around to writing anything except this stuff on the internets. Maybe someday.

But I still enjoy listening to eccentric rants now and again. I know some of youse guys don't. Even when you are kinda rant type guys your ownself. It might be a little annoying but sometimes it is kinda amusing.

I find the one thing that most of us in life are missing in humility and self awareness. I am self aware enough to know I can be a dick and a ball buster and a pain in the ass. And I am humble and grateful to all of you who are faithful commenters. You are kind enough to visit every day and participate. You pull up a bar stool and listen to the nonsense. And I am very grateful.

Seamus another round for the house on me.

The Dubious Case of the Disappearing Douchebag

My dear Holmes,

It is your most humble petitioner, Inspector Lestrade. It has been some time since I have last requested you assistance in the troubling matter of the disappearance of Lord Douchebag which you might not recall as it happened several years ago. This curious case has dragged on and on. It seems to have escaped the notice of so many who claimed the deepest interest and concern, but who have gone on as though nothing had happened. It is as though Lord Douchebag never existed. The anniversary of his disappearance has come and gone without a single note from his so called friends and admirers. But there some new and troubling developments made it such that I thought I might contact you as we have not corresponded about this matter for many months.

As I had previously noted in my last missive, I or my agents have attended many of the salons of the noted conversationalist and dilettante Lady Chatterley where Lord Douchebag was a frequent and much valued guest. In fact it has been told to me that the Lady in question has often referred to him as wonderful. What is most striking is that his name has not passed the lips of any of the many participants for lo these many months and it is as if he never existed. He is never referred to or referenced in any way which is passing strange since so many professed an acute admiration for his talents such as they were. But not a peep from anyone for lo these many months.

Inspector Gregson had informally visited the salon over the past few months to see if he might develop some leads. Or at least that was his stated purpose. In actual fact he had continued his visits because of some strange friendships he had struck up with some of the rather scruffy dezians of this talking shop. He first struck up a deep and abiding friendship with a young follower of Lady Chatterley who shared his interests in exotic spaniels and defecation. But it seems his new friend had spurned him due to his burgeoning relationship with a sepoy who had recently been detailed to Devonshire from his regiment in Delhi. This has led to some violent disagreements and words of rancor that are most unseemly for a professional of Inspector Gregson sterling character.

Currently Inspector Gregson has made friends with a new visitor to the salon who seems a rather mysterious character. He speaks in a jargon not normally heard in these precincts. It is an arcane and rhythmic argot not normally found outside the confines of Bedlam. Although it often contains vague threats and anti-social sputtering there seems to be a glimmer of a deeper intelligence and good humor that is artfully concealed. Inspector Gregson has continued his correspondence with this strange character who signs all of his missives with a single letter as his mysterious sobriquet. It remains to be seen if this path of investigate will be fruitful but if anyone will be fruitful it most likely will be Inspector Gregson.

Many of Lord Douchebags strongest partisans have given up the search and in fact have separated themselves from Lady Chatterley and her gardening consort. The noted flautist and raconteur has left the salon and stopped his advertisements in the agony column of Woodwind News. The balding and fierce smith who owned the motorcycle shop has also left the salon and wanders about in his own more parochial pursuits of porter and greasy sausages. Even the noted historian of the salon has left for many years now and has transferred her attentions to the doings of the nefarious Red Headed League of which you are so familiar. All of them must have decided that the fate of Lord Douchebag is not something they care to ponder. Would that we could do the same.

I hope all is well with you and Doctor Watson and wish that you convey my best wishes to your estimable brother Mycroft. I must tell you that I have purchased another one of his etchings for Inspector Gregson to thank him for his continued efforts in my Quixotic search for the elusive Lord Douchebag. He much enamored of your brother's techniques and continues to express his appreciation every day although I do not see why he would treasure these etchings so much. But I venture to presume that I am not as enamored of representations of naked street urchins bathing in the Thames and rubbing whale oil on each other as a prophylactic for the cold. My taste runs more to watercolors of lilies.

I remain as always,
Your obedient servant,
Inspector G. Lestrade
Scotland Yard
September 6, 1899

Yeah I loved the Travis McGee books too!

Mama M said....
Travis McGee was the MamaM's first love. She might have settled for Meyer, but McGee was the favorite. She started reading the series in high school and kept the books stored in a box under her bed, as they were plenty edifying for her but not the sort of edifying reading material encouraged in her home at that time.

So true Mama M. I loved the Travis McGee books and have everyone of them in tattered paperbacks. They were among the first I started collecting along with Louis Lamour and Robert E. Howard and HP Lovecraft and Arthur Conan Doyle and Max Brand and Maj Sjöwall and Per Wahlöö and the Horatio Hornblower books. These series gave me the feeling that I was entering another world. And there were so many of them! I could save up and buy another one the next week and have something to read on the subway on my way to work or school or just in the backyard while I listened to the game.

I tried to buy the McGee books for my kindle but they are not available. I loved in particular loved "One Fearful Yellow Eye" and "A Tan and Sandy Silence." I read those books twenty years ago and I still remember them fondly. I wish I could get them all on the kindle because they hold up today.

There are a lot of great writers and series that I did not include in the poll but who I would recommend highly that you give a chance. John D. MacDonald and Travis Mcgee.. Walter Mosely and Easy Rawlins and Mouse. Joe Lansdale with Hap Collins and Leonard Pine. The great Elmore Leonard. Dennis Lehane. And one of my personal favorites Loren D. Estelman and his Macklin series. I you want a series that sparks of realism you should check that out nd.

There are many great fictional series that you can dive into that will give you hours of pleasure.

The kindle is just a vehicle to get more of them back in your life.

I have hours and hours of great fun in store for me.

Hey what not give it a chance? It might be fun!

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Hey who is your favorite Hard Boiled Egg?

So I have an idea for a new poll. Who is your favorite hard boiled mystery writer? Now I don't think they are actually boiled because the Irish guys would have an advantage. But you know what I mean. Who is the guy you most like to read?

Lawrence Block author of the Matthew Scudder Series. We have mentioned him before. My favorite book of his: "When the Sacred Ginmill Closes."

James Ellroy author of several series including including the LA Quartet. My favorite book of his: "American Tabloid."

Andrew Vachss author of the Burke series. My favorite book of his:"Hard Candy."

Robert B Parker author of the Spenser books. My favorite book of his:"The Widening Gyre."

George Pelecanos author of the Nick Stefanos books. I haven't really written about him but he is one of my favorites. A contributor to "The Wire" you should pick up any of his books about Washington DC. My favorite book of his:"Soul Circus."

So tell me who is your favorite and let me know what you think of their work.

Block and Ellroy and Vachss OH MY!!!!!!!!!!!

Ever since I got a Kindle I have been buying books at a feverish pace. Not only new ones but old favorites. I want to have them on hand so if I want to dive into a new book I just have to click on it and start reading. So I have gone out and repurchased many titles that I already own in hardcover.

Block and Ellroy and Vachss OH MY!!!

I have been busy downloading the complete works of three of the all stars in mystery/detective/hard boiled writing for the Kindle.

You all know how I feel about the great Lawrence Block who it the reigning king of the mystery novel. I have just finished rereading all of the Matt Scudder books that I had downloaded after I had purchased his latest entry in the series "A Drop of the Hard Stuff." Rereading these books is like visiting an old friend. You can really get an appreciation of the talent on display when you read them one after another.

After our recent discussions with "J" on the evil blogger ladies blog I also started downloading some of my favorite James Ellroy novels. Ellroy is a manaic but one of the most talented writers around today. He is an acquired taste...sometimes he veers off into really strange places. Dark places. But there is a lot of substance there.
I am just jumping back into "White Jazz" and it is a crazy ride. Well worth you notice.

Finally I also downloaded a bunch of Andrew Vachss books about Burke. He is really dark and some of it is a tough go. But he is a much more linear writer than Ellroy even though they seem to touch on the same themes some of the time. The Burke series is one of the best hard boiled detective series out there and you really get a slice of low life when you read them.

So I can spend what little time I have this Labor Day Weekend reading some of my favorite books from some of my favorite authors.

What could be better than that?

Hey that gives me an idea for a poll!

Hey are you are calling a Cooley a Spade!

I came home to tapped-out momentum and DRAFT DODGER in red-bait neon. I received an unsolicited presidential pardon--my COWARD taint rendered it toilet paper. I became a vanishing act: BIG ROOM stints replaced by lounge gigs; national TV shots down-graded into local stuff. Fear and I played peek-a-boo--it always seemed to grab my balls and twist just when it felt like something inside me could banish all the bullshit forever.
I hit Victorville. L.A. radio had faded out--I'd been listening to shitkicker ditties. Apt: I pulled up to the Cooley ranchhouse soundtracked by Spade's own, "Shame, Shame on You."
The porch reeked: marijuana and sourmash fumes. TV glow lit up windows bluish-gray.
The door stood ajar. I pressed the buzzer--hillbilly chimes went off. Dark inside--the TV screen made shadows bounce. George Putnam spritzed late local news: ". . . the fiend the Los Angeles County Sheriff's have dubbed the 'West Hollywood Whipcord' claimed his third and fourth victims last night. The bodies of Thomas 'Spike' Knode, 47, an out-of-work movie stuntman, and his fiancee Carol Matusow, 19, a stenographer, were discovered locked in the trunk of Knode's car, parked on Hilldale Drive a scant block north of the Sunset Strip. Both were strangled with a sash cord and bludgeoned post-mortem with a bumperjack found in the back seat. The couple had just come from the Mocombo nightclub, where they had watched entertainer Buddy Greco perform. Authorities report that they have no clues as to the slayer's identity, and--"
A ratchet noise--metal on metal. That unmistakable drawl: "From the size of your shadow, I'd say it's Dick Contino."
"It's me."
Ratch/ratch--trigger noise--Spade loved to get zorched and play with guns.
"I should tell Nancy 'bout that 'Whipcord' sumbitch. She just might find herself a new pen pal."
"She already knows about him."
"Well . . . I'm not surprised. And this old dog, well . . . he knows how to put things together. My Ella Mae got a call from Nancy, and two hours later Mr. Accordion himself shows up. Heard you tanked at the Crescendo, boy. Ain't that always the way it is when proving yourself runs contrary to your own best interests?"
A lamp snapped on. Dig it: Spade Cooley in a cowboy hat and sequin-studded chaps--packing two holstered six-guns.

(Hollywood Nocturnes, James Ellroy)

Whenever "J" comments I feel like we are getting Dick Contino's blues. From the source.

Oy my little yiddisher pickel

"I can't believe how you are always making out with your wife Mr. B. I think I need to give my little ricpic a call. I need me some kosher loving."

The Wacky World of Carol Herman

Carol_Herman said...
Good analogy from Basketball. But to win games you still need the players who get the ball into the basket. I love it when they put the balls in my mouth. Is that like a basket?

Now. If you want to grab a hissing cat, I'd suggest you aim for the scruff of the neck. I hate it when my kitty starts to hiss. Some call it queefing. I call it the Indiana love call. Those Hooisers come running when they hear the call of the pussy.

And, in this instance? You know I don't think the Chief Justice was sitting there, talking to Ann Walsh-Bradley on how they can anger Prosser. I think they were talking about irritating his prostate.

Because Justice Prosser shows up with 3 others. And, both ladies also knew how the decision broke. Like my water after my third rug rat. I flooded the Wabash and the Tallachee bridge.

I think Ann Walsh-Bradley is crazy enough that she flew off the handle! Cause Shirley was holding her handle. By the root e toot toot!

And, I also think when Justice Prosser saw her coming ... and flailing her arms ... (And, he couldn't go backwards except into a piece of furniture) ... He aimed NOT TO GET HIT IN HIS FACE! Now I don't think it's so bad. I like it when it hits me in the face. I have been hit in the face with more balls than Yogi Berra. But not Mike Piazza though.

Roggensack also intervened. Facing Bradley. If Justice Prosser was being the aggressor ... Roggensack would have face Justice Prosser, instead. Isn't Roggensack that thing at the end of Thor when all the Norweigans fight or something? Or is that the thing that would hit me on the chin when I was giving Roger Clemens a hummer?

I think the threat to GO PUBLIC also belongs to Ann Walsh-Bradley. This was HER GAME. While the Chief Justice (for a moment), thought her mask was going to fall off of her face! PANIC TIME! I hate it when my mask falls off. That happened at Plato's retreat once and that was why I had to shoot Andy Warhol.

For Shirley Abrahamson to lose her mask was on par with a woman's wig flying off in public! (This is why once women wouldn't go out without their hats on.) I always let them keep their hats on. And their boots. And their fake noses.

So, after this went public ... And, you'll never find out "who" leaked it ... The court, itself, has suffered damage. As if a rock flew in a window and shattered glass. That's what happens when I leak. I have a very strong flow.

Then? Well, why did Mark Bradley say his wife is now having crying fits? That she turns to tears for two or three minutes, at a spurt, before she regains her sanity? I wish I could regain my sanity. But I don't like to wash much anymore so I guess I am very un-sanity.

Sure. Judges should know the law. And, not just use it to make false CRIMINAL CHARGES appear out of the woodwork. Only termites should appear out of the woodwork. And those giant spiders. Yeah. That's right.

The damage has been done. The spiders are crawling on me now!

How it will get fixed? Stay tuned. (ET will call home.) I hate that Mary Hart. What a bitch. Her voice vibrates my fillings in my toothes and I can't sleep.

That is why I am always posting on the internets.

Hey here is a picture of me without make up. Enjoy Boys!

Stop staring at my Weenie.

"Stop staring at my weenie."
"Well it looks like it is going to burn."
"I hate it when my weenie burns.'
"Well you should stay away from those groupies Healy!"
"Can I touch it master."
"You can always touch my weenie."
"Thank you Master."

Whose that girl? (and chickenlittle can't answer)

It's a blast from the past and I know that chickenlittle knows who it is so he can't play. It wouldn't be fair to the rest of you mooks.

But the rest of you can horse around and point out what is pointing out so to speak.
I mean you could play horseshoes on those babies!

Whose that pointy breasted gal?

What if Star Date was just like J Date

"Hello sugar how ya doing."
"Oh so you say you got my number from J date. That can't be right. Maybe it was Jay-Z date."
"Dr. J date?"
"Dr Cornelius date?"
"Don Cornelius date?"
"Well whatever. Sure I will go out on a date with you after work. So what's your name?"
"What kind of name if Shouting Thomas?"
"No I don't know what Sinigang na Baboy, is....is that what you want to feed me?"
"Well I like Pork so that might work out."
"Call me."

Commenter Memories Number 100: ND Spinelli reads the sports page

He is trying to tell me that the Packers are better than the Giants as a franchise. Let's face it....Green Bay wouldn't even have a team if it wasn't for the Giants. That moron Wellington Mara agreed to a commie plan of spreading the TV wealth and the Packers got to keep their team instead of moving to Jacksonville or Charlotte or something! Plus they sent Vince Lombardi to coach them as a favor to the league. I think Pete Rozelle must of had pictures of Wellington doing Laverne when she was working with Oscar Madison and she was giving him a rusty trombone or something. Otherwise I can't explain it.

There would have never been a Green Bay Packers without the largess of the New York Giants.

Steinbrenner never would have done it. He would have driven them into the ground.

A horse is not just a horse of course......

The are many deep dark secrets in Hollywood Babylon. Especially back in the sixties. There was Rock Hudson and Sal Mineo. Drug addicts like Dennis Hopper and Peter Fonda. But our show had the biggest problem of all. Wilbur was having sexual relations with Mr. Ed.

No one could understand why Wilbur would leave such fine young nubile flesh like his young wife to hang out in a barn. Little did they know that he was a pony boy. A horse lover. An equine excess dabbler. A stallion straddler. Wilbur really loved his pony.

That is why he could only hang out with celebrities who had secrets of their own. Like Sandy. It was a time of shame and desperation. It was a love that could not neigh it's name. It made filming the show a horror.
(Alan Lubin, Mr Ed, The E True Hollywood Story)

J the mystery?

All I have is the will to remember. Time revoked/fever dreams-I wake up reaching, afraid I'll forget. Pictures keep the woman young. L.A., fall 1958. Newsprint: link the dots. Names, events-so brutal they beg to be connected. Years down-the story stays dispersed. The names are dead or too guilty to tell. I'm old, afraid I'll forget: I killed innocent men. I betrayed sacred oaths. I reaped profit from horror. Fever-that time burning. I want to go with the music-spin, fall with it
(James Ellroy, White Jazz 1992)

A bit more impressive than you, Hoosier Sodbuster. I can read and know that Raul's no Jeremy. He's .....a thespian! A Big Hoss-Hamlet for yr Log Cabin self, Hoosier-joto. Toe tap for it, HDI keep it somewhat real York--"Raul"'s only PC when it suits him. We're arguing for Galbraithnomics....not Romneyomics or Ahhhnuld. Adjustable sales and gas taxes--a sound idea. The Fed. does it with income, and....state could via sales
(J, Althouse blog, 2011)


The same guy or what? You make the call.

Commenter Memories Number 99: Ricpic's doctor has the touch

ricpic said...
Well, I went to see my doctor for my annual checkup and he increased my hi-blood pressure medication which will maybe keep me going a while longer but that's not the important thing the important thing is that the first time I saw this doctor last year I got the impression that he was hurry hurry rush rush get out of here and so I was all uptight about seeing him this time and almost ready to tell him goodbye but he took his time with me almost an hour and it was like the clouds lifting the point being that all we want is to have some attention paid to us not love not a bunch of hokum fakeass caring just some attention and I got that and is that asking too much? no it's not so I'm a happy camper now.

I feel like Carol Herman had something to do with that when she said she wanted to put her finger in his touchas.

It relaxed him or something.

I Dream of Jeanie The E True Hollywood Story.

One of the big problems we had with the show is that it was so warm in South Florida in the 1960's. We didn't have all of the air conditioning that we have now and Jeanie was always hot. I mean really hot.

She liked to go out without any clothes on. The most we could get her to wear was a shirt when she wasn't in costume. She was always running around in a shirt she got from Gus Grissom without any panties on. And Tony Nelson never made a move. I mean look at her!

I think it was because his mother was a musical comedy star. Something was off about him. He spent way to much time with Major Healy. There something strange going on.

(Sidney Sheldon, I Dream of Jeanie, E True Hollywood Story)

Oy my little yiddisher pickel

"What are you wrapping up Hazel?"
"It's a present for ricpic."
"I thought he was dating that whore Molly Picon?"
"Oh they aren't serious. I just made up a nice jar of gefilte fish. You know the way to man's heart is through his stomach."
"Really? I thought it was through his cock? I know that's what Molly thinks."

Commenter Memories Number 98: ndspinelli will explain it all

Because once the light blub goes off.....he has to share his ideas.

Marilyn's Diary

Our idyllic life in Southern California was cut short one fateful day in 1968. When Uncle Herman left my Aunt Lily. And the family. And most of all he left me.

You see among many other things Uncle Herman and Aunt Lily were swingers. They would go to all these swingers parties where everyone would throw their car keys or their broomsticks or whatever in the middle of the table. They would all drink and take drugs and get crazy until they were ready to leave. Then the woman would fish around in the bowl and whatever car key or broomstick or magic vial she would pick...why she would go home with that guy.

One night a succubus picked the keys to the Munster Mobile. And Uncle Herman went home with Carol Herman.

Commenter Memories Number 97: Deborah seeks reasurance

deborah said...
Oim a lay-dee."

Yes. Yes you are my dear.

And one sweet ride.

The Wacky World of Carol Herman

Carol_Herman said...
Black nail polish! Even funnier if she pays someone else to paint this on! One of those Chinks in the nail parlor. I always tip them a dollar because any more they would spend on opuim and pencils to stick in their hair.

I think the people who sell the cosmetics like this to women ought'a be "boycutted." Of course only Jews get boycutted. I think that nice ricpic got boycutted at his bris really deep because he is always so cranky. He should call me and I would show him good time with my finger in his touchas.

Where did this idiot think you get the grass to stay green come from? It's chemicals don't you know. Like the jar of formdelyhyde I sleep in. It's better than Ponds!

Oh, yeah. Wasn't new sod put in at some point because the marchers destroyed some of the grass with their protests? I don't like new sods. I like old sods. That's why I want that nice RH Hardin or Ricpic or even better HD House to give me a call. I am like Betty White with an itchy twat. Wait that's redudant or however you spell that.

I love the reasoning! Especially Harry Reasoning. I mean he was so cute. I worked for ABC at the time and he loved for me to wash him up with a washcloth before he went on the air with that cunt Baba WaWa. What a bitch she was.

Even better! WIthout being asked ... the cops showed up. Like they do all the time at my house. Who the hell are they to tell me how many cats I can have?

And, I I could think of ... was ... wow that man with the shovel had powerful shoulders. I love a man with big wide shoulders. I mean when he is doing his business down there he won't fall in.

If you were at Woodstock, you'd have seen the applause for the truckers who brought in replacement Port O' Potties. Did I tell you I was at Woodstock? I took the brown acid. It wasn't so bad. That Chipmonk guy was a pussy.

In a more civil society ... the singers would have asked the working men ... if they had any musical preferences. Personally I love Dylan. All the senile baby boomers do.
He's so cool. And a rebel.

I miss the sixties now that I am in my eighties.

Same Bat Time

"My goodness Batman is that a Bat Phone in your pocket or are you happy to see me?"
"It's a Bat phone. I am not that happy to see Miss."
"Oh and one other thing Batman. Stop Staring at my Tits."
"I assure you I am not madam. But I am admiring you eye liner. Where did you get it?"
"Get lost you freak!"

Same Bat Time

"Finally all of the Super Villains are gathered together in one place. Remember our Mission. To Dominate the World!'
"Quack, Quack!"
"Riddle me this. Why aren't we holding a globe instead of a basketball?"
"You will find out you fool? Only one evil empire will suceed. BBBAAAWWWWAAAAA!!!!"

Same Bat Time

Get those Chinese eyes
Pay the highest price

Get those Chinese eyes
Live in love and lies.
Her love is my defeat
Desire has turned to heat and more.
My mind has gone insane
My body burns in flames and more.
Fire in your eyes - get those Chinese eyes.
Fire in your vains - chains and pains.
Fire in your eyes burn me twice

Love me with your Chinese eyes.
Fire in your vains
Chains and pains

Show me all your Chinese games.
(Fancy, 2006)