A View From The Rubble
Frustration mounts as oil seeps into Gulf wetlands
Louisiana fishermen losing patience over spill
UN fears 'irreversible' damage to natural environment
One way you can help?
Use less and do some manual shit for a change. Your heart and mind will thank you...
And for Christ's sake,
STOP USING A GASOLINE POWERED VIBRATOR.
I will if you will.
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Presently, I'm getting my ass whopped in rehearsals for,
Wanderlust: A History of Walking, adapted and directed by Matthew Earnest.
And it's gonna be brilliant, bishes... And hopefully, I'll still be in one piece on opening night. So, be there or be square!
(Thank you, Adam! For the step bump, step bump bump...)
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So, don't forget the meaning of life, bishes...
TO ENJOY IT!
(Much thanks to our Italian goddess, Claudette, for this... Thanks, Claud! Grazie mille!)
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Don't be hiding in sorrow
Or clinging to the past
With your beauty so precious
And the season so fast
No matter how cold the horizon appear
Or how far the first night
When I held you near
You gotta rise from these ashes
Like a bird of flame
Step out of the shadow
We've gotta go where we can shine
For all that we struggle
For all we pretend
It don't come down to nothing
Except love in the end
And ours is a road
That is strewn with goodbyes
But as it unfolds
As it all unwinds
Remember your soul is the one thing
You can't compromise
Take my hand
We're gonna go where we can shine
(Thank you for this contribution, Jen! I love it.)
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Will and I were at my brother Craig's home for the Super Bowl on Sunday. I kept saying that I was excited to see it because I love basketball and hadn't watched it in years. Then, we'd all snicker and I'd say, "I know! I know! It's BASEBALL." And we'd all snicker some more and stuff more hot wings in our mouths and fight over the celery and bleu cheese dressing. We were all just really in it for the great food my brother and his wife put out and the commercials, of course.
I think the Betty White one cracked me up the most.
She is so damn funny. And as of last month, turned 88 years old.
I know you have plenty of other things to really be concerned about and whether or not Betty White ever hosts Saturday Night Live really isn't imperative. But if you're on Facebook and so inclined, there's actually a group that is vying for her to host SNL.
I just LOVE that she's 88 and still vibrant, bright-eyed and funny. She'd put all those other hosts that are often on there that are barely legal and just grew pubics like four years prior to shame.
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Lincoln was sixty years old when the doctor told him he only had forty more years to live. He didn't tell his wife, with whom he confided everything, or any of his friends, because this new revelation made him feel all alone in a way he had never experienced before. He and Rachel had been inseparable for as long as he could remember and he thought that if she knew the prognosis she would begin to feel alone, too. But Rachel could see the change in him and within a couple of days she figured out what it meant. "You're dying," she said, "aren't you?" "Yes, I'm dying," Lincoln said, "I only have forty years." "I feel you drifting away from me already," she said. "It's the drifting that kills you," Lincoln whispered.
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Here I am in the garden laughing
an old woman with heavy breasts
and a nicely mapped face
how did this happen
well that's who I wanted to be
at last... a woman
in the old style... sitting
stout thighs apart under
a big skirt... grandchild sliding
on... off my lap... a pleasant
summer perspiration
that's my old man across the yard
he's talking to the meter reader
he's telling him the world's sad story
how electricity is oil or uranium
and so forth... I tell my grandson
run over to your grandpa... ask him
to sit beside me for a minute... I
am suddenly exhausted by my desire
to kiss his sweet explaining lips
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It doesn't matter if you make mistakes. Everybody makes mistakes. What matters...
Is what you do next.
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"If I had to do the same again, I would, my friend, Fernando..."
Live without regrets, mis amigos. No regrets...
I dare you.
Actually, I'm going to break the rules here and
triple-dog dare you.
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"Those who say they can and those who say they can't are both telling the truth."
- Confucius
(Thank you for this video contribution, Holly and Beny!)
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Be Kind.
And Supportive.
Be Brave.
And Have Courage.
And Don't Forget,
Your Words Always Mean Something... And You Hold Great Power In What You Think, In How You Feel And In What You Say...
You always do.
*** "Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere." - Martin Luther King Jr.
*** When I met Coretta Scott King
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So, none other than our dashing correspondent in D.C., Dickie (Thanks, Dickie!), sent this video clip to me yesterday and he wrote, "I LOOK MORE LIKE JESSICA RABBIT!"
He's right. And of course, he looks nothing like "Jessica Rabbit". But, he does look more like her than the poor thing up there in that video.
When I showed Will this video, he inquired, "Now, she hasn't had the surgery yet, right?"
I'm afraid so...
Just like that pint sized disaster in yesterday's post, the one posing with the Cabbage Patch Kid in her school pictures? Yeah... That one. This woman's so damn happy about even possibly looking like Jessica Rabbit to people with cataracts, SHE's practically farting sprinkles. And you KNOW how reluctant I am to discourage people from farting sprinkles...
At first I was staring dumbfounded thinking, is this for REAL? Is SHE FOR REAL? DOES SHE REALLY THINK SHE LOOKS LIKE JESSICA RABBIT???
She does.
And my heart hurt a little...
Here, of course, is THE
Jessica Rabbit. In all her glorious illustration.
And here's one poser,
a fairly good one too. SMOKIN', in fact.
And then, there's Miss Annette Edwards
Before (with one of her prize-winning bunnies - and word on the beat is she likes to rub her bunnies on her kitty when no one's looking)
And after...
Good lord... This poor thing... I keep holding the laptop away from me and purposely blurring my vision and then I think, she would actually look like her if I smeared vaseline on my eyeballs. Maybe she should only grant interviews if they smear vaseline on the camera lenses. That might be one solution. And she should never just sit down and NOT hold her breasts up with one arm. Not in front of the camera, you know... I mean, in that video clip up top, her boobs were in her lap.
I mean really... come on. Wynonna Judd
looks more like Jessica Rabbit.
And even SHE
thinks it's funny.
That sweet, crazy, delusional thing looks like a cross between
Tootsie
And
Sir Winston Churchill.
Miss Edwards was relatively attractive to begin with. The plastic surgery just seems a little severe.
I'm all for doing what really makes us happy. Truly, I am. But... I just dunno. At the risk of sounding horribly judgmental, I just don't think this is it. I don't think anything outside of ourselves will ever make us happy. Not truly happy.
If you're not happy without it, you're not going to be happy with it.
Then again, it's her path to take, teetering on her heels with her bad back and all. So, maybe I should just shut my pie-hole and let her walk.
But, I can't help thinking, when are we okay just the way we are?
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A member of the Optimalist heath club hacks a hole into the ice covering a canal near the village of Viazynka, Belarus.
"It's not the size of the dog in the fight, it's the size of the fight in the dog."
- Mark Twain
* January Swimming Hole #1
* January Swimming Hole #2
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We have fallen down again tonight
In this world it's hard to get it right
Trying to make your heart fit like a glove
What it needs is love, love, love
Everybody, everybody wants to love
Everybody, everybody wants be to loved
Happy is the heart that still feels pain
Darkness drains and light will come again
Swing open your chest and let it in
Just let the love, love, love begin...
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Dust of Snow
The way a crow
Shook down on me
The dust of snow
From a hemlock tree
Has given my heart
A change of mood
And saved some part
Of a day I had rued.
- Robert Frost (1923)
(source of photo)
January Swimming Hole #1
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It's Alive... IT'S ALIVE!!!
So, I refrained from passing this latest news on to you during the Holidays. I was trying to follow my "No Bad News" declaration. So, forgive me if you've already read about it. But, if you've been paying attention, this really shouldn't be all that shocking.
You're probably quite aware of how I feel about the American food supply:
Junk In More Than Just The Trunk (Or I Can't Believe Our Cows Eat Twinkies - Part Moo)
Don't Eat These Foods, Bishes!
Well, here's the latest:
Pressure rises to stop antibiotics in agriculture
FRANKENSTEIN, Mo. (appropriately, "Frankenstein") – The mystery started the day farmer Russ Kremer got between a jealous boar and a sow in heat.
The boar gored Kremer in the knee with a razor-sharp tusk. The burly pig farmer shrugged it off, figuring: "You pour the blood out of your boot and go on."
But Kremer's red-hot leg ballooned to double its size. A strep infection spread, threatening his life and baffling doctors. Two months of multiple antibiotics did virtually nothing.
The answer was flowing in the veins of the boar. The animal had been fed low doses of penicillin, spawning a strain of strep that was resistant to other antibiotics. That drug-resistant germ passed to Kremer.
Like Kremer, more and more Americans — many of them living far from barns and pastures — are at risk from the widespread practice of feeding livestock antibiotics. These animals grow faster, but they can also develop drug-resistant infections that are passed on to people. The issue is now gaining attention because of interest from a new White House administration and a flurry of new research tying antibiotic use in animals to drug resistance in people.
Researchers say the overuse of antibiotics in humans and animals has led to a plague of drug-resistant infections that killed more than 65,000 people in the U.S. last year — more than prostate and breast cancer combined. - MORE THAN PROSTATE AND BREAST CANCER COMBINED. And in a nation that used about 35 million pounds of antibiotics last year, 70 percent of the drugs went to pigs, chickens and cows. Worldwide, it's 50 percent.
"This is a living breathing problem, it's the big bad wolf and it's knocking at our door," said Dr. Vance Fowler, an infectious disease specialist at Duke University. "It's here. It's arrived."
This July 10, 2009 photo shows a sow nursing her piglets in a farrowing crate in an Elite Pork Partnership hog confinement building in Carroll, Iowa (AP photo)
She can't even fucking nuzzle them, nor turn around... She's pinned in a pen. Factory farming isn't human. It's demonic.
I WISH they had that much room and were eating grass...
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Get hot, get too close to the flame
Wild, open space
Talk like an open book
Sign me up
Got no time to take a picture
I'll remember someday all the chances we took
We're so close to something better left unknown
We're so close to something better left unknown
I can feel it in my bones
Gimme sympathy
After all of this is gone
Who'd you rather be?
The Beatles or the Rolling Stones?
Oh, seriously
You're gonna make mistakes, you're young
Come on, baby, play me something
Like, "Here Comes the Sun"
Come on, baby, play me something
Like, "Here Comes the Sun"
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Here's hoping you're not stuck somewhere, literally OR figuratively. If the former is true, hopefully it's fleeting. And if the later IS true, what better time than now to get unstuck, yes?
Because if you don't show up to your own party... someday soon, someone's gonna be pissed. Or at the very least, disappointed... And I'm talking about yourself. There's nothing worse than being disappointed in oneself. KNOWING that you can do better... in whatever that may be. And then, not doing it because of fear... or doubt. And I only say this because I know this bullshit song and dance number by heart. And frankly, I'm rather sick and tired of that tune.
So, care to join me, bishes? It IS New Year's Day after all. And while we don't have to be perfect, we can at least try a little. So what if we fall a few times? Failure can suck it. We'll just get back up and try again.
Can you tell I'm trying to convince myself as much as I'm trying to convince you? Well, I am. And I want to convince both of us that this isn't a dress rehearsal. And whether it's New Year's Day or not, there's no better time than right NOW.
This New Year's video-clip contribution comes to us from our dashing correspondent in D.C., Dickie! Thanks, Dickie! Happy New Year's, baby. I hope it's your best one yet.
And then of course, there's THIS scene... Which is well worth the 17 seconds.
From the movie 200 Cigarettes
Director: Risa Bramon Garcia
Writer: Shana Larsen
Release Date: 26 February 1999 (USA)
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The "It's all about me" thing just isn't cool anymore. Let it go... just let it go. And who knows? Maybe, you'll be happy you did.
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