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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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Searching for the funny

Happy Birthday my Little Sara — without you there would be no Sara(h) Squared. Looking forward to seeing you soon…

Also, why doesn’t someone make a Goonies t-shirt that says “Sloth loves Chunk”? Because I would totally buy it. And wear it every time I went for a run. And all the total geeks like me would give me a knowing smile and remember the purity of that love. And we would all feel good for a little while.

Totally stole this (thank you Jr.) and at first I was like, “Is this tasteless?” until I remembered that I’m so not above tasteless humor. And my name is Claw Washout which is just awesome and has been written down for future reference.

UPDATE: Apparently they have…of course.

UPDATE 2: And I found the funny. Literally made me cry.

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I can has happy?

Not today. But thank you D. Matt. Ninja cat made me feel a little better.

I feel like going home and watching all of these, under the covers, with tears. Goonies is first. It’s a fave. “Sloth, you’re gonna live with me now…because I love ya.”

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Banjo, drop the underwear

Alright, I’m pretty much sick and tired of tip-toeing around things so no one gets offended. Here’s the deal:

I’m pretty much libertarian when it comes to the social issues side of politics. I believe people have the right to make the decisions they feel are best for them. I also do not think it is my place to judge those decisions. If you tread on me, I will tell you. If your behavior treads on society at large, a policy may be in order. But it is a principle tenet of my life philosophy not to go around making people feel like shit for being themselves (although, and recently I was reminded of this, many, many people who demand this kind of acceptance do not offer the same in return. And they suck for that. Just sayin’.) So, I can get behind the idea that the Right’s strict adherence to certain social policy issues is debatable.

However, if one more Obama-ite talks to me about pork-barrel spending I’m going to laugh in their face and call them an ‘effing poorly-educated idiot. You see, I am extremely conservative on the fiscal issues side (although I know my parents are roaring with laughter about the irony of that statement…) and the redistribution of wealth is not only always a failed policy it’s also a dangerous one. Here’s Boortz with the numbers (scroll down to OBAMA’S NEW TACTIC: THEY ARE LYING) — please, for the love of all all things righteous and just, and so you don’t look like a complete ass at your next cocktail party, read it. All the links, too. I know it’s hard and boring. Education often is.

Also, to the three people in the last two weeks who have skirted my periphery again — one who “accidentally” bumped into me at the restaurant, one who sent me a charming email and one who always creeps up to the back door, reminding me of their existence by befriending my friends, I have a little message to you:

There’s this scene in one of my all-time favorite movies, Grosse Pointe Blank, where the hitman goes to his 10-year high school reunion and has to tell the cokehead jock who always messed with him in high school — and who has never moved past that stage — that a relationship between them does not exist.

“Do you *really* believe that there’s some stored up conflict that exists between us? There *is* no us. *We* don’t exist. So who do you wanna hit, man? It’s not me. Now whaddya wanna do here, man?”

Understand? Look, I owe all three of you a debt of gratitude. You all helped me dodge a bullet — two by showing me the gun before it was fired and one by jumping in front of me and taking the bullet for your own. So thanks. Sincerely. Without you, I wouldn’t be where I am today — which is to say reasonably sane and operating under the belief that the world isn’t populated exclusively by horrible people who do terrible, selfish things for their own gain. You have all three been a cautionary tale: be careful what you wish for cause you just might get it. Lesson learned. I thank you for your time. Now, really, move on. No, really — it’s time.

Here’s a video my friend who recently moved to Iowa (or Idaho – too lazy to check) took of her dogs’ new plaything and it’s insanely awesome, and a doctored-up photo of Gill that I could just kiss him for. Ah Gill, how I miss being privy to your shenanigans on a daily basis…

Oh yeah — danced to this last night. Listen to “Starstruck.” Thanks for the new music dance teacher extrordinaire.

Have a glorious weekend.

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