Whats New Scooby Doo?

I hear that something's up?

My Panda Groupie by Charles Bukowski

I read last Saturday in the
redwoods outside of Santa Cruz
and I was about 3/4's finished
when I heard a long high scream
and a quite attractive
young panda came running toward me
glistening fur & divine eyes of fire
and she leaped up on the stage
and screamed: "I WANT YOU!
I WANT YOU! TAKE ME! TAKE
ME!"
In Panda talk.
I told her, "look, get the hell
away from me."
but she kept tearing at my
clothing and throwing herself
at me.
"where were you," I
asked her, "when I was living
on one candy bar a day and
sending short stories to the
Atlantic Monthly?"
she grabbed my balls and almost
twisted them off. her kisses
tasted like grubs and salmon.
2 women jumped up on the stage
and
carried her off into the
woods.
I could still hear her screams
as I began the next poem.
mabye, I thought, I should have
taken her on stage in front
of all those eyes.
but one can never be sure
whether it's good poetry or
bad acid.

Raw with Love of Ling Ling by Charles Bukowski

little dark bear with kind eyes
when it comes time
to use the knife
I won't flinch
and I won't blame you,
as I ride along the subway alone
as I doze with drink,
I dream of the night
we met first sight,
the ugly heavy palms,
as the living does not arrive
as the dead do not leave,
I won't blame you,
instead I will remember the kisses
our lips raw with love
and how you gave me everything you had
and how I offered you what was left of me,
and I will remember your small cage
the feel of the light in the window
your straw
your panda poo
our morning coffee
our noons our nights
our bodies spilled together
sleeping the tiny flowing currents
immediate and forever
your leg my leg
your arm my arm
your smile and the warmth of you who made me laugh again.
little dark bear with kind panda eyes
you have no knife.
the knife is mine
and I won't use it
yet.

Panda Sex!

Thank you to EBL for giving me this link. Enjoy dudes and dudettes!

We aim to please at Trooper York's joint!

Harsh Pencil said...
Meadehouse doesn't have nearly as many pictures of pandas having sex. (Don't they know any other position? No wonder they get bored.)

It is not generally know in America but panda's are well known as cunning linguist in the language of love.

Revolt in the ranks?

I have just spent one-hour-and-a-half
handicapping tomorrow's
card.
when am I going to get at the poems?
well, they'll just have to wait
they'll have to warm their feet in the
anteroom
where they'll sit gossiping about
me.
"this Chinaski, doesn't he realize that
without us he would have long ago
gone mad, been dead?"
"he knows, but he thinks he can keep
us at his beck and call!"
"he's an ingrate!"
"let's give him writer's block!"
"yeah!"
"yeah!& quot;
"yeah!"
the little poems kick up their heels
and laugh.
then the biggest one gets up and
walks toward the door.
"hey, where are you going?" he is
asked.
"somewhere where I am
appreciated."
then, he
and the others
vanish.

Charles Bukowski

Is this the last of Terra Nova?

They had the season finale of "Terra Nova" this past Monday and there is no announcement if there will be another season. You hate when that happens because the cast moves on to other projects and they can't get them back. Thus great shows like "Deadwood" are no more because unless they put everybody under contract they get new gigs. Like Marshall Bullock is now Marshall Givens on Justified.

So we don't know how "Terra Nova" will end.

You know the story. A bunch of refugees fled a polluted and dying world to establish a new community based on freedom and equity. All presided over by a charismatic guru with a grey beard. Sounds like a great idea.

I hope they get another season. I want to see how it turns out.

Slave Wine of Gor!

"Drink this," said Drusus Rencius.
What is it?" I asked, startled. It seemed he had produced this almost by magic. It was a soft, leather botalike flask drawn from within his tunic.
"Slave wine," he said.
"Need I drink that?" I asked, apprehensively.
"Unless you have had slave wine," he said, "I have no intention of taking you through the streets clad as you are. Suppose you are raped."
I put the flask, which he had opened, to my lips. Its opening was large enough to drink freely from. "It is bitter!" I said, touching my lips to it.
"It is the standard concentration, and dosage," he said, "plus a little more, for assurance. Its effect is indefinite, but it is normally renewed annually, primarily for symbolic purposes.
I could not believe how bitter it was. I had learned from Susan, whom I had once questioned on the matter, the objective and nature of slave wine. It is prepared from a derivative of sip root. The formula, too, I had learned, at the insistence of masters and slavers, had been improved by the caste of physicians within the last few years. It was now, for most practical purposes, universally effective. Too, as Drusus Rencius had mentioned, its effects, at least for most practical purposes, lasted indefinitely.
"Have no fear," said Drusus Rencius. "The abatement of its effects is reliably achieved by the ingestion of a releaser."
"Oh," I said. I knew this, of course. Susan had told me.
When a female slave is given the releaser she knows that she may soon expect to be hooded, and bred.
"Could it not be sweetened?" I asked.
"I have chosen that you drink it as it is," be said, "as it is normally drunk."

You know Sue only has your back until she needs to stick a knife in it.

Quinn started out as the head cheerleader of the Cheerios and Coach Sue got her and a couple of other kids to join the glee club to sabotage it. Sue hated that someone else had something going on and wanted all of the schools resources and talent to be adsorbed by her cheer leading squad. She didn't want anybody else to have their time in the sun. It was all about Sue's ego. She had to be the one to control everything. The school. The budget. The way people thought and acted had to all be under her control.

So Quinn started out being the mean girl she was meant to be. All the other kids looked up to her because she was attractive and had some degree of fame. She taunted and mocked the poor nerds in the Glee club for being losers who couldn't get with the program.

But a funny thing happened. She ran into some adversity.Things went wrong. And Coach Sue dumped her ass as fast as she could. Because it is all about Coach Sue. You are always a bit player in her movie. She doesn't really care about you. About any of the cheerleaders. She will dump you in a minute and trash you and mock you as fast as can be if it suits her purposes. Because she is not your friend.

Quinn was just a tool. Especially for putting her faith in Coach Sue. Just sayn'

How long to pitchers and catchers!

You're not like the others. I've seen a few; I know. When I talk, you look at me. When I said something about the moon, you looked at the moon, last night. The others would never do that. The others would walk off and leave me talking. Or threaten me. No one has time any more for anyone else. You're one of the few who put up with me. That's why I think it's so strange you're a fireman, it just doesn't seem right for you, somehow.

The zipper displaces the button and a man lacks just that much time to think while dressing at dawn, a philosophical hour, and thus a melancholy hour.

Oh Lilly! You have my heart!

I was afraid to raise my eyelids, but looked out and saw perfectly under the lashes. The fair girl went on her knees, and bent over me, fairly gloating. There was a deliberate voluptuousness which was both thrilling and repulsive, and as she arched her neck she actually licked her lips like an animal, till I could see in the moonlight the moisture shining on the scarlet lips and on the red tongue as it lapped the white sharp teeth. Lower and lower went her head as the lips went below the range of my mouth and chin and seemed to fasten on my throat. I could feel the soft, shivering touch of the lips on the supersensitive skin of my throat, and the hard dents of two sharp teeth, just touching and pausing there. I closed my eyes in a languorous ecstacy and waited - waited with beating heart.

You are so obscure!

As you got older, and felt yourself to be at the centre of your time, and not at a point in its circumference, as you had felt when you were little, you were seized with a sort of shuddering, he perceived. All around you there seemed to be something glaring, garish, rattling, and the noises and glares hit upon the little cell called your life, and shook it, and warped it.

The fresh harrow-lines seemed to stretch like the channellings in a piece of new corduroy, lending a meanly utilitarian air to the expanse, taking away its gradations, and depriving it of all history beyond that of the few recent months, though to every clod and stone there really attached associations enough and to spare—echoes of songs from ancient harvest-days, of spoken words, and of sturdy deeds. Every inch of ground had been the site, first or last, of energy, gaiety, horse-play, bickerings, weariness. Groups of gleaners had squatted in the sun on every square yard. Love-matches that had populated the adjoining hamlet had been made up there between reaping and carrying. Under the hedge which divided the field from a distant plantation girls had given themselves to lovers who would not turn their heads to look at them by the next harvest; and in that ancient cornfield many a man had made love-promises to a woman at whose voice he had trembled by the next seed-time after fulfilling them in the church adjoining.

But nobody did come, because nobody does; and under the crushing recognition of his gigantic error Jude continued to wish himself out of the world.

Through the solid barrier of cold cretaceous upland to the northward he was always beholding a gorgeous city—the fancied place he had likened to the new Jerusalem, though there was perhaps more of the painter's imagination and less of the diamond merchant's in his dreams thereof than in those of the Apocalyptic writer. And the city acquired a tangibility, a permanence, a hold on his life, mainly from the one nucleus of fact that the man for whose knowledge and purposes he had so much reverence was actually living there; not only so, but living among the more thoughtful and mentally shining ones therein.... Suddenly there came along this wind something towards him—a message from the place—from some soul residing there, it seemed. Surely it was the sound of bells, the voice of the city, faint and musical, calling to him, "We are happy here!"

Who in their right mind would want to be the Head Cheerio?

So do you guys watch Glee? One of the main premises of the show is that the nasty gym coach Sue is trying to shut down the artsy glee type misfits. She is always coming up with some scheme to shut down the Glee club or mess them up in some way. She is helped by her cheer team the Cheerio's.

The Cheerio's are a bunch of high school cheerleaders who have a lot of pep and always wear their uniform. The head cheerleader was originally that mean girl Quinn Fabray who was a blond cheerleader and nasty as hell. She went through a lot of changes to become almost normal now. That is she is all messed up but human. Not a perfect little automated cheerleader for her fearless leaders.

But some people aspire to that. They are the mean girl minions of the nasty foul mouthed coach. And people don't call them out. Proablly because they are usually hot. Nobody wants to mad at the hot girl. The boys all suck up to her and the girls all want her to be their friend. But most of the time the are all surface and no depth.

It is really funny when you see the same scenario in real life. These bitches have to get over themselves. It ain't high school anymore beyootch. You just have to laugh.

There's something about Mary.

AllenS was kind enough to link to a photo of his horse. How cool is that to own your own horse?

I would love to own a horse. I could just imagine riding down Court St and riding down people who got in my way like a Cossack or something. That would be way cool.

I love that people who have a life very different from mine are kind enough to comment here. I love to find out how about people live. It is very interesting to me.

One Adam 12.....See the Fran about the Scram.

"Excuse me sir do you have any identification?"
"What you don't know who I am?"
"I am afraid not. Dispatch told me to see Fran about a Scam. Are you Fran?"
"Well I ain't fuckin Kuckla or Ollie. Jeez don't you know football out here in LA. I am the quarterback of the New York Football Giants. Everybody knows me. Fran the Scram."
"Sorry. I only follow the Packers. All the gay guys do out here.....errr I mean they are the classic franchise after all. Plus Dixie Walker once gave Chuck Taylor a rusty Trombone after he was in the hospital after the Rams game. I don't follow football really."
"Jeez LA sucks. You know if you guys keep this up you will lose your team and will never have NFL football again."
"Well I don't really care. Now bend over. I have to frisk you."

Kim loses it....and has a blond moment.

Last nights "Real Housewives of Beverly Hills" had more fights than the blogs these days. The main event was Camille vs Taylor. Or rather drama Queen Kyle going out to "disinvite" Taylor and Russell to her big party. It seems pre-suicide Russell sent a nasty email to Camille to tell her she is going to get sued for repeating on camera what Taylor had said about her husband beating her. They manufactured a drama that they couldn't come into the party since everyone didn't want to get sued. So they set them up to show up and be turned away. Way too much drama. I have been in that same exact situation many times. When you had too different groups of freinds who were fighting and you don't want to send someone away. So you tell them to go to different sides of the room and not to fight to ruin it for everyone else. But they needed the drama. It was way stupid.

Kim added to the fight by getting into it with Brandi. She started waving her hand and pointing her finger and saying how she would never forgive her and didn't want to be her friend. Those tiny blonds can get pretty nasty. Just sayn. Her new boyfriend just stood there and looked stupid. He should have jumped in to calm her down but I guess he figured it wasn't his place to do that. So it went on and on and got to be even stupider than the big fight.

Reality TV shouldn't be about this manufactured drama. There are enough dramatic things going on in the world that you don't need to gin up conflict.

Why can't we all just get along.

Tag of the day: Althouse is like Nixon

When the Watergate plumbers committed their "third rate burglary" it was a blip on the radar scene of the political world. A few low level minions of the President decided they knew what they needed to do to protect the President. This lead to his resignation. Because you see it is usually not the crime that is the problem but the cover-up.

I think what happened was that the EBL had given her man the keys to the kingdom. He has the password and the ability to delete at his whim. A contrempts had developed between several commenter's. I was the worst offender. I am very sorry it happened. I was totally wrong in the way I attacked Allie and have since apologized and she has graciously accepted. My only excuse was that the subject of people falsely claiming that they were veterans is something that is very important to me as I have direct personal experience of someone doing that with disastrous results. In any event we managed to act like adults and find it in our hearts to forgive each other. But forgiveness and generosity are just two of the many things in short supply at Meadhouse.

In short order, Meade deleted a whole string of comments. His wife stood up for him and took the rap even though he had said he had deleted the comments. Now Meade is a smart guy who is underemployed. It is winter so there is no yard stuff to do and all of the coeds with no bras are not out protesting so there is no one to videotape protesting at the Capitol. You can only make so many pancakes and Hobbit feet really only need to be shaved once a week. So he needs something to do and his wife decided to let him help around the blog. Those of us who are house husbands understand how that works. You help around the house but you know you will never do it right. The wife will always tell you how to do it and boss you around. So you take you shots when you can. And at the people who bugged you and spin it the way that will get the wife on board.

The EBL has to be careful in her blogging. She has a position and a reputation that she has to maintain. She is not free to attack and berate people like me or ndspinelli. She can't bust balls the way we can so I can see that she could get fustrated. She is often attacked and people make trouble for her because of that position so that people who don't like what she has to say want to silence her. The way Meadehouse wants to silence those who say things they don't want to hear. It is of course their blog and they have the perfect right to do that. But they have to stop talking about free speech because it is becoming a sad joke to those of us lucid enough to tell the forest from the trees.

What originally attracted me to that blog was the freewheeling discussions and creative atmosphere where commenter's fed off of each others enthusiasm. Ruth Anne's puns. Sippican's essays. The ghostly musing of Sir Archy. The boyish legal enthusiasm of Simon. The futile flirting of Mortimer Brenzy.The savage erudition of Cyrus Pinkerton. The crusty liberalism of hdhouse. The vinegary hard earned wisdom of Sixty Grit and AllenS. And so many more. Especially the good natured fellowship of Meade. But all those people and all of those things are gone now. Now the operative word is that they have to squash the viewpoints they don't like. So innocuous posts will be deleted because of who is posting them. Some words and people are too dangerous to their self-regard. An enemies list seems to have developed. Just like Nixon. The idea that creativity and a different voice will be not only allowed but celebrated is gone. Now the sycophantic lickspittles will be valued. Not the independent thinker or the strong contentious voices. They must be deleted so that they will not infect the rest of the new developing Borg collective.

AJ Lynch said we are like the bums he threw out of his bar who talk about how much they hate the bar but want to come back in. I don't think we hate that bar. We just like the way it used to be. But they have a new bartender. The owner is too lazy or distracted and gave power over to a bartender who is deep sixing everyone and everything that pisses him off. He was probably seething over things people said or did and now is his opportunity to run thing his way. Just the way Haldeman and Ehrlichman did. How did that work out?

When such intelligent voices as RogerJ and Dust Bunny Queen and even the irrepressible Titus say it is time to give it up and get over it they sort of have a point. They have sowed the seeds of their own destruction. It won't happen in a day and some people will still think that place is a good place to be. But before you know a disgruntled and disgraced paranoid professor will be traversing the sands of Lake Mendota in her wing tipped shoes muttering to herself about who stole her strawberries. I can see it as clear as day.

Richard Nixon has some great advice for us. He famously said: Always remember: others may hate you. But those who hate you don't win unless you hate them. And then you destroy yourself.

As RogerJ has said let us indulge in the spirit of the season and forget about our differences. They will still be there after the new year. Let us have fun and enjoy the holiday season. We can talk about a lot of other stuff that is frankly more fun. That place and those people are the past. Let us go into the future and have some yuks. We can just let it go and talk about other stuff. Life is too short.

Merry Christmas to all you knuckleheads.

I don't want to panda to you but.....

It seems that full scale comment moderation massacre is in full effect! Some things must be hidden from view. It is pretty funny. The people who used to pride themselves on free speech and a vibrant comment section are acting like insane Korean dictators.

It's pitiful really. And not sexy pitiful like Sophia Lorens pits just pitiful like how the mighty have fallen.

I don't want to panda to you but knock yourself out.

It's a Pitty Situation!

Some places are a town without pity. Some times you pity the fool.

And sometimes it's a Pitty Situation.

A new series on Trooper York. A game the whole family can play.

One Adam 12.....See the Dust Bunny Queen on the set.

"Excuse me officer but I was wondering if you would check me out in my miniskirt?"
"My pleasue Miss. There is only one problem."
"What's that?"
"You need high heels. Or white go-go boots. Or something."
"Ok I will get right on that."
"Great and once you do that I will get right on you."
"WHAT?"
"Bend over I have to frisk you."
"Oh officer I thought you would never ask."

I don't want to panda to you but.....

I want you to know if you have an issue with me and the things I say we can talk about it out in the open. No secret emails. No deletions with a super secret double probation explanation that we can't share with the rest of the class. Every day more and more people are realizing that North Korean isn't the only place that operates with a crazed secretive dictator. They are coming to their senses and finding that things have changed in a big way and they have to find greener pastures because the man tending the lawn has spread so much pesticide that he killed the thing he was trying to protect.

A rookie mistake.

We want our Panda's fucking right out here in the open.

One Adam 12....See the hippie chick?

"So Miss I need to see some identification please. There has been some complaints about unauthorized flirting with former military personal."
"But it was all innocent officer. Who could possibly complain about a little flirting."
'I don't know you are supposed to email this person for an explanation. They don't talk where other people can hear them."
"What's email?"
"I don't know. It hasn't been invented yet. I think it is a way to communicate in secret so nobody can tell if you are lying."
"Why can't I just flirt with whoever I want to flirt with officer and let these silly nasty people mind their own business?"
"I don't know Miss. Bend over I have to frisk you."
"Oh Officer I thought you would never ask."

Beverly Hills should be good tonight!

The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills should be pretty entertaining tonight. Kyle Richards the chief bitch and bottle maker is having having her annual "White" party. Now that's not like the party they have in Madison where only white people can come but a party where you have to wear white clothes. It seems that after the huge fight last week between Taylor (the grifter who drove her husband to suicide) and Camille (who drove her husband to divorce her and marry a 25 year old and star in Boringheads videos). Kyle is going to be forced to tell her BFF Taylor that she can not come to her party.

It funny. Kyle is throwing out her good friend while she is tolerating and placating someone who was her enemy and said horrible things about her last season. She is dissing her buddy and cossetting her enemy. It's funny how that works out.

People are stupid.

Someone spewed tarter sauce on her fish taco!

Discuss.

Hey I just got accepted!

I just got accepted as a commentor at "Boring Heads." I asked to be able to participate and for them to make an exception for a conservative. Their witty reply to me busting their chops is as follows:

Dear Trooper,
This is your lucky day. Once every year, during the holiday season, we allow ONE conservative to join the select Bloggingheads Community, and this year that person is you!

That is pretty cool. I don't intend to watch any of those videos as they are as boring as NPR. But the only way you can tell if your team is really good is if you play on a neutral field. You know what I mean jellybean?

Hell Needs A New PA Announcer

Forcas: Will you be interviewing any new announcers my dread Lord.
Lucifer: Yeah we might as well. Who do we have in the last bus?
Forcas: Well we have several people. We have Colonel Potter from MASH.
Lucifer: Nah, I hated that show. They were all big time Liberals and I am surrounded with those douches all day long here in hell. You can't swing a dead Haitian and not hit a pile of freakin liberals. I mean you know that fuckin' Sandinista fuckin Blow Job Honeycunt is coming right to hell. The Big Guy is not gonna want to listen to his bullshit through all eternity.
Forcas: We have that North Korean dictator guy Kim Jung Il. He just got here.
Lucifer: What another chink. We got too many fuckin chinks here as it is. I don't want another one as the PA announcer. Plus you can never understand them. Me likey fucky sucky five dolla. Who talks like that? Next.
Forcas: Well we have noted iconoclast and commentator Christopher Hitchens.
Lucifer: Oh snap! That might work. He is a snarky motherfucker. And he dissed Mother Teresa. What an idiot. Even I love Mother Teresa and I am fucking Satan! What a moron. Send him in.
Forcas: Right away Sire!
Christopher Hitchens: (slides down the stairwell to hell and tumbles at the feet of Satan and his right hand fallen angel Forcas) What’s going on here? One minute I was walking to a bright light and met a man in a robe with a clipboard and the next thing I know a trap door opens and I am roasting my tootsies off. Don’t you know who I am?
Lucifer: Yeah. I know who you are. You are the fuckin douchey communist asshole who got one thing right about those fuckin towelheads and everyone started kissing your ass. You have to realize that you would end up here in hell. I mean the Big Guy don't talk much but he doesn't like when you diss his team. You dissed Mother Teresa. You might as well have mocked the Yankees. The Big Guy don't play that.
Christopher Hitchens: But there is no God. How can he sentence me to hell when he doesn't exist.
Lucifer: Oh he exists bumfuck. You just didn't believe in him. Well he believes in you. Enough to sentence you to Hell for all eternity. You know you are boring me. Where did you get this reputation as a great mind. You are one boring conversationalist. Forcas come and get this douche.
Forcas: Yes Sire. (Two burley demons grab Christopher Hitchens and drag him away as he protests feebly that he is a serious intellecual who can't be treated this way)
Lucifer: What a maroon. I know. Send him to the mock up of the Algonquin Round table. He can sit there with Harpo Marx, Mae West, Rosemary Kennedy and that guy that kept squeezing the rabbits. Let him display his wit with people at his own level.
Forcas: Very well my lord. Who will we have announcing today?
Lucifer: I know. Get Ray Scott. I want to bust his balls about the Packers today. Let's torment him worse than he was when he lived in Wisconsin. And believe me that is fuckin hard to do!

I don't want to panda to you but.....

Some people are just so fucking stupid. They have to control everything. They think they can tell people how to spend their money. How to express themselves. What they can say. What charities they can contribute to that meet with their pompous approval. They will track people down to harangue them about what they think. Because you see they know better. They are credentialed tenured and approved by the New York Times. They think they are better than you. Then know they are smarter then you. They just want you to shut up and do what they say.

Or and contribute to them by using their Amazon portal to fund a blog that doesn't cost them a dime.

Here we believe that you should be free to do whatever you want with your money. If you feel charitable and want to give to the Red Cross that's fine and if you want to just give it to the bum on the corner that is fine too! And the bum can do what he wants with the money. He can get food or he can buy crack. I don't control him. I give because of me not because of him. I don't control the world and other people and how they think and how they act.

But I tell you one thing. All of us at Trooper York are united behind one thing. Everyone from rabid liberals to Neanderthal conservatives agree on one essential fact:

We want Panda's to fuck as much as they want.

Sometimes when you turn the other cheek you just want to fart!

Yesterday we had a great customer who took us back to how we made the store work in the first place. This woman came in with her husband who insisted that she go out to get herself some clothes. She hated to spend money on herself as she was a caretaker for family members but he insisted that she go out and spend some time and money on herself. He wanted to take her to the city but she remembered shopping with us two years ago and always wanted to come back. So they did.

Now I came out of the back to talk to the husband. That is what I used to do all the time but it got away from me a little because I have been so busy with other things. Anyway they were there for the long haul. Four hours worth. About half way in the wife goes to her husband "You should go out for a beer." But he didn't want to leave her so we went and got beers from the bodega next door. When game back the wives went "Hey where's our beer." So it was beer all around while they were shopping.

Now these guys were your typical new types to Brooklyn. They had a lot of dough and own a building in Park Slope. And they love the new trendy restaurants. In fact they were talking about how much they love "Prime Meats" which is a German style restaurant on Court St. They server all of Allies favorite dishes that I bet she remembers as a child. They even put out a sidewalk cafe in the warm weather.

Now I went into my normal song and dance about how there are two types of places. The trendy new person place and the regular guy place that normal people go where it costs a lot less and you get a lot more food. He was naming his favorite joints and one after another were yuppie scum touristy traps. Which is fine for him. I don't begrudge him his success and he was a very nice guy and his wife is a doll. I am so very grateful that they came to shop in my store. I just told him my story about "Prime Meats."

You see every Sunday as you leave Mass all of the old people walk up Court St and pass the rich elitist yuppie scum hipster douchebags who are eating brunch outside. They walk up the street to "Good Food" the Italian Salumeria and get the stuff you need to cook breakfast and dinner. You know. Eggs. Bacon. Bread. Milk. Tomatoes. Pasta. Basil. The works. They you carry it home and you cook it. I am right in there with the old ladies as we buy our stuff for Sunday dinner. It is a ritual. You go to church and then go home for Sunday dinner with the family. It is what you do.

But it is not for everybody. I get it. Some people want to just get the New York Times and have brunch at a cafe and mock the honest working people who don't have their advantages in life. These scumbags are uniformly big time liberals but have no friends of another race or ethnic origin. They don't even know the names of the people who serve them in the stores they go to in the neighborhood. That's their life. I leave it to them. I would rather try to be humble and acknowledge the people who help me every day with my shopping and getting and spending. The countermen at the deli. The mailman. The girl at the bakery. The dude at the hardware store. They deserve a Merry Christmas and maybe a couple of dollars. It can make a difference for them.

Just a thought on the week before Christmas.

Our toy drive was a great success!

We had a toy drive the last few weeks and collect a lot of stuff for a poor parish in Bed Stuy. We called it "It's a Wonderful Valise" and a bunch of our customers brought in toys. We brought them over to the church last week and the people from St. Johns picked them up. Thanks to all who participated.

Just sayn'

Shop Day one is a pain in the keister.

There are two shop days on a "What Not to Wear" shoot. Shop Day one the subject goes out on their own to find some clothes and is usually unsuccessful. So it looks like they can't find anything until Stacy and Clinton step in to help. The problem is that they always find what they want at our store if they are in for shop day one. So the narrative is messed up. Once this douchebag director had the girl walk out of our store and be filmed saying she didn't find anything when in fact she bought thousands of dollars worth of clothes. When it aired a bunch of my customers who saw it called or emailed and asked how could that be. We just said "Look at the stuff at the final reveals and you recognize a bunch of stuff from the store. They just have a narrative they have to stick to that's all."

Shop Day Two is a lot more fun as Stacy and Clinton come in and we always have a lot of fun. I put out a big spread of food for the crew and it is almost a party atmosphere. We get about seven to ten minutes of airtime and that is really great for my business. Don't get me wrong. I love those guys. They have supported us from Day one and I will do anything for them.

We are shooting a Shop Day One for the final episode for this season this week which is sorta tough in Christmas week. But they know we will always do it for them because of what they have done for us.

I just hope we get a decent director with a bit of inventiveness. That would help!

Now is the time to remember the summer!

I hate when it gets cold. Today is a particularly cold day in Brooklyn. Our breath smokes when we went outside to church today. I just wanted to think about our vacations to the Bed and Breakfast we took this summer. Lazing on the couch. Reading the kindle by the pool. Floating in the pool in the heat of the afternoon. Heaven.

They had the parish Christmas party today and it was amazing to see all the little kids in the parish. We are very kid friendly. Well the parish is not me. I got out of there as fast as possible. But it was very nice. It's Christmas and that is really for the kids.

We won't be able to get away somewhere warm this year as we had the previous three years so we will be stuck in the cold. But we can see our parents which makes up for it.

I just want to be in the pool.

Marilyn's Diary

I always hated my cousin Eddie. He was a little freak. Always running around and peeping. And he was weird about it. He was obbessed with people going to the bathroom. He used to spy on me when I went to the bathroom. The little freak even asked me to pee on him. My cousin! What a creep!

It was hard to be in the same house with espeically when Uncle Herman got hard. You see when Uncle Herman came to my room we didn't want anyone to know about it. We didn't want little Eddie to see us and run to tell Aunt Lily. That would be a disaster. I didn't want to hurt her feelings. Plus she was a vampire and you don't want to piss off a vampire. So we were careful to distract Eddie. I would pee in a pair of my panties and put them in the wash. He was always rooting around in my laundry basket so when he saw it he would grab it and go to wack off all night long. You wouldn't see him for days. It cost me a pair of sexy panties but at least he was out of the way.

I haven't spoken to him in years. I think he moved to the East Coast and became a Congressman. I know he became very close to Hillary Clinton. She loves to piss all over people. Every so often he sends me a photo of his penis. I would think he would worry about getting in trouble for doing that.

At least I don't have to worry about him peeping me anymore.

Now I can cancel HBO for two months.

Now that "Boardwalk Empire" is over there is nothing I want to watch until "Game of Thrones" starts in a couple of months. I don't watch any of the other series as they are pretty lame. You have to begrude paying for something you don't really use anymore.

Boardwalk was interesting to me because they showed the gangsters like Al Capone, Meyer Lansky and Charles Lucky Luciano in their early years when Prohibition just began. They also feature Arnold Rothstein who was the major figure in organized crime of that time. It was very engrossing except for the silly subplot with Jimmy Darmody and his weird realtionship with his mother. Now that Jimmy was killed in the final episode they will move on to some less barque themes like gangsters and Prohibition. Boardwalk is writtin by the same people who did "The Sopranos" and they fell into the same traps. By trying to do "art" they started to lose sight of what people wanted to see. The gangsters.

Sunday night viewing will have to go back to only "The Real Housewives" and the stuff we missed during the week that we recorded.

That one track runs right through my noggin!

A one track mind is a terrible thing to waste. I know some people get upset about something and then it is basicly all they want to talk about. Like Mick and the "natural born citizen" stuff or the Crack Emcee about cults or Titus about hogs. They see everything in realtion to these things and everything is about that or them.

I think it is better to take a more well rounded approach. You know well rounded. Like a big firm pair of ta-ta's. So you don't have bring everything back to your obsession. You don't have to make every comment or allusion or thought be about it. It is actually more effective if you drop it in now and then intead of doing it 24/7. When you do the same thing all the time people give you the side eye. They start to back away as though you are one of those crazy street corner preachers. You need to relax. Let it flow naturally. The time to discuss or mock or make jokes will come up organicly.

I just think a one track mind is a terrible thing to waste. Just sayn'

The tortelllini was a big hit.

The big hit of the party was the tortellini in cream sauce with pancetta, peas and onion. This is not a photo of it but it is what it looks like. Everyone loved it but one of our friends was in the kitchen as I was preparing it and I put a whole quart container of pecorino romano cheese in the sauce and she almost lost it. She said that she and her husband don't eat that much cheese in a year.

They each had four bowls of the macaroni.

You have to put the right ingredients if you want people to eat it. They just can't watch you while you do it.

What Not To Wear will be back this week.

We just got the call that "What Not to Wear" will be filming this week. It has been a while and a lot of work but we are happy to accomidate them. It will be the twenty third time they have filmed in the store and it is always great for busniess.

But it is a lot of work in the week before Christmas.

Hey it's our Christmas party tonight!

I was busy cooking all day. Sausage and peppers. Tortellini in cream sauce with peas and pancetta. Rice Balls. Prosciutto Balls. Potato croquet's. Salads. Assorted cheeses.

Running to the stores and getting the wine and the booze and the eggnog and what not.

I hope it doesn't get too crazy. Last year Chickenlittle kept xeroxing his butt. The eggnog just got him feeling so guilty you know what I mean?

Anyway Merry Christmas and I hope you are partying wherever you are.

I want to make it easy for you to comment on my comment policy!

I want to make easy for all of you who want to comment on our comment policy since what you think is so very very important to me.

To facilitate this and to make sure that I get all of your input I ask that you write out your questions and comments in calligraphy and place it in a bottle with a cork. Not a twist off as that is real low class. Simply toss it in the nearest body of water and it will make it's way to me.

That is how I always get my fanmail from a flounder.

That douche from Animal House writes to me every week. Jeez get a life you loser.

Who knows what a rare clumber looks like anyway?

At least he picks up his loaves. Just sayn'

Make up your own joke.

Just be smart. No names. Subtlety is best. You get the drift. Wink, wink, nudge, nudge. Just sayn'

Seriously Bob!

"So Bob why were you late again tonight?"
"We had a big problem with the group. People are fighting. Mr. Peterson and Jerry the Dentist started fighting and rolling around on the floor. And Carol started to cry and kept eating and puking like a crazy person. I hate the fuckin' holidays."
"Really Bob. Whatever. Let's go in the bedroom and fuck before our stupid neighbor comes in and starts telling lies about he used to be astronaut."

One Adam 12.....See the Preacher.....he has too much time on his hands

"So who called 911?"
"I did. I have a big problem. People are being so mean and stupid. I need it to stop."
"OK let me get some information. What's you're name?"
"Pastor Fuzz."
"Wait you are a pastor and not a Catholic preist?"
"Yes that is correct."
"Oh so who gives a shit. You don't count for crap since you are going to hell anyway."
"How dare you say that ......you barbarian.....you make me sick.....I hate the way you mock everything.....I just have one questions for you."
"What's that pally?"
"Did you know that Lemon tree very pretty and the lemon flower is sweet?"
"Screw off you werido. Let's get out of here and go to the Emergency Room to start at Dixie's Cups."

A Man Needs A Maid

Still.

If you don't like the Kennedy's you will love "Castros Bomb"

I have getting books like crazy on my Kindle and I am always overjoyed to find something by one of my favorite authors to add to my reading list.

I have always enjoyed the work of Robert Conroy who is one of the best alternative history guys around. I first started reading him with his very cool book "1901" where he imagines a world where the Kaiser invades the United States because he wants to steal the colonies we acquired during the Spanish American War. That book was a lot of fun as were his later books: "1945 Red Inferno" "1945" "1942" and "1862" in which he picks a pivotal year in one of our wars and wonders what would have happened if a few things changed. He seamlessly blends real life historical characters with those of his own invention to tell some great stories.

In "Castro's Bomb" he wonders what would happen if after the Cuban Missile Crisis our buddy Fidel decides to attack Guantanamo Bay and at the same time steal a couple of the tactical nukes that Russia had secreted in Cuba at the time. There are some great battle scenes but the best part of it is the depiction of Kennedy and his relationship to Lyndon Johnson, Maxwell Taylor and a bunch of other historical figures from Camelot. For example when he meets a CIA analysis he is more interested in checking out her tits than what she has to say about Castro. It is a lot of fun.

Highly recommended for some light reading.

You are a bad, bad commenter!

You know who are. You are bad, bad commenters. You are nasty misogynist icky nasty cocky pee pee poopyheads.

You just want to destroy. You don't want to have fun. You bad bad people.

Sexy cows know how to accept an appolgy.

It has come to my attention that some dimwitted arrogant douchenozzles are trying to start trouble again over what happened between Allie and me that caused a big ruckus. As you might recall Allie had posted some comments about her daughter and I was mean to her because I didn't believe her. It got pretty heated and we went back and forth about it. The only reason why I mentioned her daughter was because Allie brought it up. We mixed it up pretty good but Allie was woman enough to reach out to me to explain that I was wrong.

I was wrong. And I apologized to her. She has become a valued part of the gang here and her contributions are highly valued here. I was complete wrong in not believing her and I apologize to her and she has graciously accepted it.

So any scumbuckets who want to rehash it and start more trouble should go fuck themselves with Andrew Sullivan's dick.

I had previously had some very nasty fights with hdhouse in the same vein. We went at it tooth and nail and called each other really nasty hurtful stuff. I don't know how this shit happens. Some days I might not be feeling well or I am pissed off and something rubs me the wrong way and I go nuclear. But the funny thing is that both hd and Allie are valuable commenter's here because we share something. We are all reasonable and dare I say it "nice" people. We are not arrogant pompous dimwitted douchenozzles who would not appolgize if they ran over a blind nun who was crossing with the light. I think we have a genuineness and a humanity that is sorely lacking in some people who think their shit don't stink.

As John Lennon once famously said "Insta-Karma" is gonna get you. What goes around comes around. The emperor has no clothes. They are all pink on the inside.

I just want to say that I am very happy that Allie accepted my apology and that we are good.

And for those of you who want to stir up more shit because of your misunderstanding of the facts....do me a favor.....eat shit and die.

Donald Trump wants to quit!

Donald Trump wants to quit the Celebrity Apprentice. You see this season he is dealing with Teresa Guidice of the Real Housewives of New Jersey and she is so fuckin stupid that he can't take it anymore. She is a total moron and he is pulling the hair out of his wig dealing with her.

Here she is pictured with Titus after they brought the rare clumber to the vet.

I would like it if you just said thank you!

Blanche: Did you have a nice drive?
Jane: What are you talking about?
Blanche: Nothing dear, I... it's been so long since you were out of the house I thought perhaps you had gone for a drive or something. You know I was thinking, it's ever so long since we had a talk, you know, a real talk about the future and everything. Jane, I didn't want you to be worried about the house, even if I do have to sell it, we'll still be together.
Jane: Blanche you're not gonna sell this house. Daddy bought this house, and he bought it for me! You don't think I remember that, do you?
Blanche: You're wrong, Jane. You've just forgotten. I bought this house for the two of us, when I signed my first contract.
Jane: You don't think I remember anything, do you? There are a whole lot of things I remember. And you never paid for this house. Baby Jane Hudson made the money that paid for this house, that's who!
Blanche: You don't know what you're saying.
Jane: Blanche, you aren't ever gonna sell this house... and you aren't ever gonna leave it... either.
Blanche: But Jane you have to realize that not everything is about you. We might need to find our own way. The world does not revolve around you and what you want.
Jane: I don't want to talk about it! Everytime I think about something nice, you remind me of bad things. I only want to talk about the nice things. I would like it if you just said thank you!

They call me Harry O but that is not my real name.

"So what do I care? I just want to know if you can do the job. You found those broads to get rid of Herman Cain so I need you to find something on Newt."
"But he already has a lot of stuff. He divorced his wife when she had cancer. That is as bad as me when I dropped my girlfriend when she got the ass cancer because I was banging her in the ass with my dick dipped in nicotine."
"Really why would you do that?"
"Are you kidding? That feels great. Cool and refreshing. Feels like a cigarette should."
"You're a freaky bastard. I would've used that old guy Barnaby but he is senile and the fat guy got stuck behind the wheel of his Lincoln. So you're it. What should I call you?"
"Call me Hairy Balls. That can be my code name. But I don't even know your name?"
"Me. My name is Karl Rove. But nobody can know I am masterminding the Romney campaign. You can call me by my code name: Seven Machos."

There are to many people with strollers!

They block the streets. They push into stores so you can't get past them. They come into the store and knock over stuff. They bring them into outside spaces and want everyone to be quiet so their brats can sleep. I hate these peoples with strollers!

On the other hand there is an exception to every rule.

Blake is a slut.

Amanada Blake that is. Well she played one in Gunsmoke. The earlier ones in black and white.

I have about the first two seasons on DVD which I bought from the Gunsmoke film of the month club. It is really pretty great. It has great guest stars like Charles Bronson and Bette Davis and Bruce Dern and Steve Forest.

The characters are very different. Later in the show run Miss Kitty (Amanda Blake) gets a lot more respectable but in these early episodes it is pretty clear that she is a whore. She is free and easy with her attentions and Matt Dillon is leery of her because she is so slutty. After a while she gets more respectable and at the end of her run it was like she was a nun or something instead a saloon whore like Trixie from "Deadwood."

But I like it better when Blake was a slut. Just sayn.