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Archive for September, 2008

Zimmer, I don’t know how you’ll feel about this but your favorite rednecks from Red State Update made it onto one of my conservative sites. See, despite the general consensus, we have senses of humor, too…

“There’s no such thing as eye lice…”

And, cause I’m still grieving, here’s a little more of Mr. Newman (and a better representation of the Southern man).

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Incomparable


I can’t write because I’m crying. I loved you Mr. Newman and I’m so very sad you’re gone. Your Henry Gandorf (ED. Note: it’s Gondorff. Geesh.) was one of my all time favorite movie characters and Brick broke my heart. I actually learned how to hustle pool sharks a little in college and owe some of the “aw shucks” act to your Fast Eddie. You were wise enough to marry a Georgia girl who could hold her own with you and was just as amazing at her craft and I think that speaks volumes about you. You created an empire dedicated to charity and you’ve always reminded me a bit of my dad. Thank you so much for the inspiration. I’m creating a Netflix retrospective as we speak…Rest in Peace ol’ Blue Eyes…

UPDATE: The Superficial writer says what my delicate nature (read: my mother) forbids me to say. But it’s what I mean…

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For the record, I totally called this and I have witnesses to prove it. Game on…

Everyone talks about Knowshon but I’m saying Stafford and Green are the ones I can’t take my eyes off. Especially Stafford. He’s got that thing that Favre, Marino, Montana and all the great ones have. It’s indefinable really but I know it when I see it. And it’s in the eyes. It’s a pinprick, a point of intensity, of light, that you see in their eyes when they survey the field. And he has it. I’m thinking he’s NFL bound and it’s okay if you hold me to that. Game on…

toothpaste for dinner
toothpastefordinner.com

Here’s some weekend music for your consideration.

And, as usual, stolen shamelessly from Agent Bedhead who is increasingly my hero:

I could survive for 1 minute, 6 seconds chained to a bunk bed with a velociraptor

Enjoy your work reprieve.

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Pops, you’re a genius. Nice call. I owe any business acumen I may have to your training. Thanks for that.

Now, could we work on character judgment cause I seem to be lacking a bit there. But getting better…

Here’s an album I like to listen to that I got by accident many years ago. So dig the Counting Crows song. It just makes me happy…

“A knowledge of the existence of something we cannot penetrate, of the manifestations of the profoundest reason and the most radiant beauty, which are only accessible to our reason in their most elementary forms—it is this knowledge and this emotion that constitute the truly religious attitude; in this sense, and in this alone, I am a deeply religious man.” ~ Albert Einstein.

I feel ya babe.

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So many things happening — the first Presidential debate Friday, Georgia vs. Alabama Saturday, deadline for a piece on a new restaurant in town looming (it’s today actually. Ahem.); I’m simply overwhelmed with the excitement of it all. But then, as I was reminded Sunday evening, I’m an absolute dork of the highest magnitude so what excites me might be a bit pedestrian to the sophisticate. Let me explain…

My sister stage manages for a theater in Atlanta. I went to a charming play there Sunday afternoon and stayed for the wrap party early that evening. At one point during the play, a nice little remake of a Sherlock Holmes adventure, Holmes is trying to chat up his love interest and he’s failing miserably because he keeps wanting to talk to her about the history of limestone and other equally esoteric things that are undoubtedly what he feels passionately about. Cut to the wrap party and there I am, in the corner talking to one of the actors, a gentleman about my age, handsome, interesting (okay, he was married but he was still male and therefore serves as practice time) and all I could manage to do was discuss my fascination at how male facial hair trends have changed over the centuries and what on earth could be the driving motive for these changes.

Total dork. *sigh*

Anyway, went down the river with some folks who don’t care how dorky I am and I love them for that. Here’s some pics. And if you want to get together to drink wine and watch the debate I’m totally available. If you can handle all the excitement…

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A note on the economy

Alright look, I don’t love the idea of Socialism for the wealthy either but people were starting to panic and I don’t think anyone wants another Great Depression, now do we? And I mean, after 17 trips to the floor — 17 people! — there was little else that could be done.

But you know, I’m open to suggestion. If someone can provide me another option that would have stemmed the wave as effectively I’d totally love to hear it. The mere mention of the bailout has started to change the numbers and I think the final iteration of the plan will be less dramatic because things will have a stabilized a bit. Which, really, is kind of the genius of all this. Read between the lines. Politicians do and if you want to understand what’s happening you have to as well. And stop panicking. It doesn’t help.

My pops even predicts that it may not cost as much as everyone’s griping about because all that worthless real estate that is the tragic consequence of the failed social policies that got us here, once things do level out a bit, won’t be so worthless anymore and the government can begin auctioning off its equity.

It’s really not that complicated so quit mucking it up with all your passion and prejudice. Geesh.

UPDATE: Here’s HotAir’s take, which at least offers some stabs at other options and iterations of the plan. I guess what I’m saying here people is that being all high n’ mighty about it is pretty weak if you don’t at least offer an alternative path. It’s just bitching into the wind…

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I’m feeling pretty bombshell today — I don’t channel that enough (none of us do, right ladies?) But today, I feel it. Perhaps it was that brief retrospective on Sophia Loren — who, let’s face it, had Cary Grant eating from her hand — that I saw last night that did it. Either way, I’m feelin’ all loose and twisty and in the perfect mindset to float down the river tomorrow. Hopefully I can swing some photos so you can see how we do it here in Georgia. No pun intended.

In honor of the bombshell, here’s a song I love. Rhapsody still refuses to revert back to its original format so listen to “Lonely Hours.” It starts out kinda low — but just wait for it. It’s actually really uplifting…

Seek a little truth this weekend.

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