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Vox Jox w/extra cheese

March 13, 2009 Leave a comment

The abstract saw of infinite monkeys, given infinity to do so, who would randomly & eventually type out Shakespeare’s works, cannot be proved. Not by me any how. I also wonder, would that appear in contemporary English? the original 16th Century? or in basic monkey? Either way, I’d still only like the comedies. . ..

I know for sure what would happen if you gave say, 3 monkeys a broadcasting school. They’d turn out the clowns who end up as sports talk hosts. I just know there is a secret text these guys all have read to them. They all mispronounce the same words & have the identical world view. Sports is their entire life & their livelihood. Yet every chance they get, they state in very serious tones, sports is the toy box. Ha ha it’s not a real job. Do they get paid in Monopoly money? Seems to me when a 400lbs. lineman hits a quarterback, it feels seriously like real life. Plus if you decide not to show up for your not real job, you will not get paid. Really.

” Men, playing boys games “, is a huge favorite. When in fact, for the most part, it is older ( + fatter ) men drooling over younger men, who they live vicariously through, exploit & get paid to do it too. There are always exceptions in life. Sure, some ex-jocks are excellent commentators. Some, jock wannabes, are even better. But the need for the type has expanded exponentially with the success of all sports talk radio. Though it existed in both major & small markets for years, the summer of 1987, a small company named Emmis Broadcasting ( which means – truth in Yiddish ) took a huge risk, WFAN AM in New York went on air, making sports talk an around the clock format. It paid off; and then it took off. To say I didn’t listen avidly then & like it, would be a lie. Now we reap the whirlwind of the worst of its spawn, ESPN Radio & Fox Sports Radio. Yeah yeah, ESPN TV was on cable before FAN launched. Whole other beast. The Worldwide Leader in Being NFL & Boston Butt-boys didn’t get into radio until they saw what Mike & his ex, Mad Dog were billing in NYC. Even then, they waited for Disney dollars. And that’s the emmis.

Now, jock talk pollutes the commercial airwaves. Since the mid-seventies AM radio stations needed sports, any sports to stay in business. Big market operations competed for the pro teams. Regional settled for being on the network & getting area colleges ( and high schools!)—lots of fights there for the share of the ad bucks too. The latter eventually put me out of radio. I think collegiate sports should be for students, their families & staff. Not fat white guys in suits & ties. Or morons who can’t even spell university, spewing stats in the middle of the night, laying bets with gamblers. Leads to all kinds of nasty behavior. Namely, more of the same.

Am I bitter? yes. Do I understand? yes. Would I still hear sports talk hosts for the barely literate & limited intellects they are, even without the personal grudge? Oh yeah, I would. If I mispronounced a local name wrong, I got calls. Did I ignore them & continue to say the name wrong? No. Because I wanted to be right. I was even known to call up people to get it right. Even if it was just a public service announcement for a bake sale. And you need to verify that Connie Linkous is a real name, of a real person. Yes and yes. You could look it up.

Sports talkers don’t take criticism. Or correcting. They just continue to say words the way they like them said. Which is often the wrong way. They also never met a hackneyed phrase they couldn’t use ad nauseum. Then puke it back up & chew it again. You know, I admit I rarely used algebra since high school. But English? pretty much on a daily basis. Though I do like to employ the odd Latin saying. And French, I like French. Jock sniffers apparently think sports transcends precise speech. Not formal mind you, I am all for casual & natural sounding conversation. But pronounce the words correctly; especially if an amicus curiae sent an email with it spelled phonetically, you ahole.

Getting words jumbled up like Homer Simpson riding a donut high while on a 3 day drunk, is nothing compared to what sports talk radio does best. Taking the athlete they worshipped 24 hours ago & exposing him ( occasionally her ) as a loser. What they really mean is, how could he let us down—we are so hurt, and as they are warriors ( LOL ) they will understand why we must attack them, shooting from the hip, lip & bloated body parts from media buffets. Burp—now back to bashing the Yankees/A Rod. . ..

Being from the Bronx, the Yankees were not only my hometown team, they were the first sports entity I ever knew about. That was long ago and far away. The player I most revered & emulated, was controversial beginning to end. The only time I wavered, I was 13 and learned he not only smoked but drank beer ( and more as it turned out ). But just like I did with my father, it didn’t take long to forgive Mickey Mantle for his flaws. After all, all he’d ever done for me was deliver the goods. He was human, just like me. The hero part was my lucky bonus.

Mickey caught plenty of heat, sports talk radio was flexing it’s muscles in the early 90’s. When Mickey stood up & admitted he was dying, and that his self destructive choices were the kind he regretted and sincerely hoped no other would make. Not a chance on the latter Mick, but a lot of people respected you for saying it. I guess Alex Rodriguez was busy playing in the toy box that day. Around the horn, and voila! it was his turn in the barrel.

Men like Mantle & Alex Rodriguez are built larger than life. Then there are people with the ability & means to make them even larger. The overriding reason for that is not altruism. It is profit & to some extent, reflected glory. Humanity, especially the sports media, has the nasty habit of putting athletes on precarious pedestals. Then, like vultures circle, until the time is right to dive & feed.

The New York Yankees and by dint of that, their all star ( Yankees are his third team ), Alex Rodriguez, are the evergreen whipping boys of sports talk. Even after O.J. went from slashing his way down a football field to just slashing humans, the black athlete was sacrosanct. Until one day, Barry Bonds, a guy most of the jock media loved to hate, became indirectly responsible for two reporters getting jail time. They had some privileged info about illegal steroid production & suppliers, involving Mr. Bonds, and refused to reveal their source. Bingo—Barry be bad, open season on him. Then asocial thugs like Terrell Owens, Adam Pacman Jones & Plaxico Burress, ad nauseum. Old news, they have ” A Roid ” in their sights now. Along with that group of tables with all the food laid out on them. That’s more emmis w/cheese. . ..

There’s November like November – part ll

October 30, 2008 Leave a comment

” We love our god and our guns. . ..” this a direct quote from a political ad, approved by John McCain, running on a local radio station here in the New River Valley of Virginia. A political statement meant to exhort Virginians to vote against Barack Obama, because he apparently doesn’t love their god or their guns. Love means cleaning, oiling & fondling your grandaddy’s 30 aught 6.

They love guns here all right. They love to sell them too. That’s how a mental patient, who slipped through a loophole in the VA TECH student psych screening process, bought two guns here in Virginia. Then took them to school for Show & Kill. Who is their god? Glock? or the twin deities, Smith & Wesson?

Not too far from here, about 10 miles as the Jim Crow flies, there still stands the site of slave cabins. No doubt my own house is built above the unmarked graves of somebody who caught a free cruise to the land of the free. This area rarely has a sunny start to a day.* Often, it’s more a mist, I call it gray-light. Maybe it’s the angry gun god, all smoke and bitter ash for dirty deeds. Or possibly the arsenal also, just down the road apiece. . ..

I have said previously, the President of the United States is a spokes model. He/she(?) walks point for the daily patrol-an important job, yes. But the chief exec leads the team out front. There are those no longer so deep in the shadows, who run things. Those guys have no gods. This, because they think they are them. What they do best is send out people to do things for them, destabilize a Third World country or prop up a druglord in a slag heap ending with -stan. Then they trot the Pres out to meet the press for an atta boy and a tutorial in spin doctoring.

Doing that needs lots of guns and money. No doubt Mr. Obama would prefer to use what’s left of the American economy to keep us strong at home. Roofs over our heads and a chicken in every pot and/or microwave. But that kind of thing upsets the ‘ foreign policy ‘ of the power brokers who work behind the curtains of the Oval Office.

Hollywood has remade a classic flick, The Day the Earth Stood Still. The premise of which is, extraterrestrial is sent to Earth to terminate it. Mainly due to our warlike ways. Naturally this is greeted with loads of firepower, which makes the alien think it’s actually on Mars, named after the god of war. Right after the shameful name of the NFL franchise in our nation’s capitol is changed, I’m petitioning the new administration to switch from Earth to Mars. Or at least the Dirty 3rth. Hey, yo I’m street, dogg!

When a political party’s endgame endorsement has god & guns as the slam dunk argument for its candidate, you know it’s in trouble. If McCain really heard that ad and approved it, it’s troublesome. If a lackey rubber stamped it for him, it’s even more so. I knew we were backwards here, but this is straight out of the Johnny Reb Handbook. The South will rise again? well not before my dinner does.

So, while I continue to live in Bubbadoon,* where it’s always 1808 with football & cell phones—their god approves of some new fangled things! I get out my pork rinds & moonshine, ready to watch the election returns. Who will win—Hatfield or McCoy? er, um I mean Obama or McCain. Actually, I thought Obama was an Irish name- what? you never heard of the Black Irish!

* not to mention 24ºF on October 31—sunny south my @#%&*! ass

Ars Gratia Ici

October 20, 2008 Leave a comment

I’ve finally figured it out. Lucky you, now you won’t have to do it, you get it here, virtually free of charge.

The godz, the hired powers or the big gas cloud, rules existence in its own cruel to be kind way. Mostly it makes stuff to break stuff then makes more stuff to break it, ad infinitum. Which seems to place the age of this particular universe in the Terrible Two’s; not even the dumbest Christian thinks life is that young! All of that is usually depressing and/or befuddling for any survivors, until it’s their inevitable, tough shit turn in the barrel.

Oh sure, there are some neat misdirection tricks, geeks get hot chicks & underdogs win World Series. Favorite sons get erected U.S. President ( not a typo.) That kind of thing. We all tune in for the show, because it’s so random, there really is a chance we might be a winner. Odds roughly being googolplex to one. Sadly, there be dragons. The ever present dark side they never teach you in school. Unless of course you’re a cognitive genius and have an epiphany waiting in the cafeteria lunch line ( c’est moi naturelement.) Yes, we are the Mystery Meat. Which was the original title of that We Are the World song. It was changed for our protection.

OK, the answer is coming, eventually. Be patient, remember, it’s free. Lately I have noticed more and more, how what passes for creative, is just crap. At least 25% of the males starring in mainstream media look like the bastard sons of the Pillsbury Doughboy. AND fully 60% of dudes in rock bands, the spawn of the Michelin Man. Back when I was a boy (creak)those whey-faced lardos, were nerds and football players. Oh and please, somebody slap a cease and desist order on those endless SF/Fantasy book series. My time travel hitlist will now have to include Tolkien for baby daddy-ing that phenomenon. I’m all for EOE but it’s gone too far. So far in fact, its let the fat cat out of the bag.

Before I say any thing else, let’s all agree on something. There are always exceptions. For every Seth Rogen there always will be a Zac Efron ( is it me or did somebody at Disney edit out a K, P & H?). For every Sarah Palin there will be a Michael Palin. For every Oprah there will a photo of Oprah( they should change the spelling of ego to egO and yeah, put a pic of her as the definition.) Nothing will change that. Well, nothing short of a Cosmic singularity occluding us, harshing our dubious high.

The first sign of the Apocalypse as far as I’m concerned, is the exponential proliferation not of nukes in OPEC nations and/or dictators rocking wardrobes from Army Surplus stores, but that of one named recording acts. If you’ve stumbled across this blahg before, I mention those pretentious aholes every chance I get. If people known by three names are serial killers and people with the standard two are us, what does that make the uni-noms? Please reread this paragraph slowly and focus. Voila, you too can be a visionary. If only I had some product tie ins to sell you.

So what if Wall Street is headed for Wall-E, wearing their throwback jerseys from the October 1929 season. No fear. The stock market was established back when it actually was a stock market, cows & pigs—bulls & bears are metaphors. It’s all based on speculations and futures. We all have just one future. Fuck Dow Jones and the SUV he rode in on. The only sure thing in life is debt and Texas. Then you eat out of a dumpster until you actually do die, do die.**

That said ( whatever that was–I am trying to be entertaining and enigmatic ), I have had a revelation. The reason things start to seem so awful in the arts as we age is for one reason only. It’s so, that with our last thought, we don’t gasp a final hacking deathbed breath of regret, in which we utter the immortal words:

” Now I’ll never get to see HIGH SCHOOL MUSICAL 86 arrrrrrggggghhhhhhhhh. . ..”

Anybody know what we’re having for lunch? hey dude, no cutting in line!
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* the word unpverse ©2008 JukeofUrl Productions

** cryptic Johnny Cash song reference – 20 points

What kind of twee would they be?

Barbara Walters has confessed to having an affair with a US Senator. Hold on, I need to drink some Red Bull.

Ahhh, that’s better. I almost yawned myself to death writing about Barbara Walters. She is so far past the expiration date, the FDA should issue an alert. Walters suggests had it been known, this illicit liaison could’ve ruined her career. My suggestion would be, does anybody have a time machine? I’d gladly give up going back in time to pay more personal attention to a young Anna Quindlen in HS, just to make sure Barbara never had a career. Oddly, it might serve to further my own journalistic pursuits. Hmmmmm

Meanwhile, lots of stuff has happened during my hiatus. Most of it is the s.o.s., so don’t worry, in 6-9 months it will all circle around. Again. My favorite though, me being a dude who blogs globally but bitches locally, was the gun dealer who spoke at Virginia Tech.

In case you missed it, yes, he’s the !@#&*%er, who sold 2 weapons to that piece of shit psycho. Of course his main argument was how could he know. After all, this is the USA and everyone has a right to make a living (?) and to bear arms. Somebody has to sell guns to wackos, so, why shouldn’t it be him. However, for the sake of Karmically balancing that idiot, the universe immediately killed off Charlton Heston.

OK. He’s correct. It’s not his fault that monster slipped through the PC psych vetting for students. Or that the Commonwealth of Virginia permits weapons to be sold. Virginia is more concerned with busting people who don’t wear seat belts & taxing citizens who buy frivolous luxury items, for example, like FOOD! Just a guess, more people drive cars to buy food than guns in the course of any given day.

I chose not to read much about this campus visit. Does me no good to get even more irate. I would like to know why the police can’t sell the guns. Wouldn’t they be better able to investigate and evaluate a customer? might even catch a few of them without their seat belts buckled too.

Heads up to any potential gun buyers, if you’re bringing donuts to grease the wheels with the cops, VA doubles the tax on any donuts you buy, if they are packaged by the store ( prepared food tax lol ). Get you enraged? have you ever considered visiting a TV show live? You know what would be a good one? The View. Just a thought.

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Happy Birthday to Captain America in Norfolk VA — do you ever miss your Shields?

‘ Uneasy lies the head who wears a clown ‘

October 12, 2007 2 comments

I just watched a movie: 1408. I don’t know if I mentioned this before, but I’m not only $ challenged due to my flex work ethic, but I’m also cheap. This might explain why I got the flick free from the library. When I reserved it, I was thinking John Cusack movie and totally forgot 1408 was based on a Stephen King story.

My guess is King, whose work is best characterized using a word that fits his genre, that word being hack, titled this based on the amount of books he writes every year. I think, he should’ve stopped at 1407 or better yet, 7. King barfs out the same cliches & smears them all over whatever surface is handy, and usually chucks in a clown. Luckily for him, those English speakers who actually still read, like paying for that warm and fuggy feeling his one note talent provides.

I think Stephen King is simply awful. BTW Stevie, what amazing source of strength kept a clown out of this one? I bet that would be a great story. Again, I’m willing to admit I’m envious. But would I really want to be an author who makes a lot of money writing the same crap over and over, literally, a literary ad nauseum?

Oh fickle Fate! I have not been tested in such a way, as I have with the so called misbegotten friendships I allude to often. In fact, of my 3 good remaining friends, two read this blog with some frequency. Their links appear to the right>>> I tend to not refer to them too specifically, mainly because I like them. I like John Cusack too. After a bit of a break in his work, Cusack has a few big movies coming out soon. I wish him the best, because there is also some overdue Oscar buzz for him: break a leg dude.

As for King ( probably a Red Sawx fan too ), please stop writing. Maybe clown school?

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I just saw the weekly Top 10 rated TV Shows based on viewers. Ha ha ha ha ha ha [ hear DeNiro in Cape Fear ] — Crime & medical shows. Medical crime shows. Football. AND Dancing with the Stars? TWICE! Americans are truly dumbasses. Holey Moley! The TV Top 10 for the Internet Movie Database members is much different, indicating a much more eclectic & discriminating taste. Me? oh sure I am a member.

I also have a TV show idea. A coroner, into ballroom dancing, who moonlights as a party clown. His clown name? Sammy Sew Sew. The show? Cut Up Cop! WOW! it’s all ready number 9!!!!! It’s his sidekick though, will get the numbers. A black ex-NFL player who is a pre-op transexual dance instructor & martial arts expert. Genius, huh? Hack that, Stephen King. . ..

PS  Big Yapi shut your trappy—no NYY fan needs to hear your broken English opinion 

Skins Games

September 24, 2007 1 comment

Wow! it’s football season. Every fat white, beer drenched ahole who ever passed out on his high school football field ( after the game ) is having an orgasm. This is because, whether they ever did a full uni windsprint, they imagine they could’ve played in the NFL.

Major sports should be judged by what their alums do. Recent NFL examples would be Michael Vick and what’s that name again, oh yeah, O.J. Simpson. Give Simpson his props, he has evolved in 10 years. This time instead of a hunting knife, he was packing a handgun for the big game. Sure, baseball has the unfortunate steroid posterboys like Jose Canseco & Mark McGwire. But what gets lost constantly and conveniently is, the NFL pioneered ‘roid abuse.

Football is a terrific sport. BUT it has been co-opted by big time college programs, which, in the guise of revenue for other collegiate pursuits,( such as actual fields of study) ram illiterate thugs through their doors, who major in the study of fields made of turf. Then somehow ‘ graduate ‘ to bling, strip clubs & professional thuggery. All for the love of the game, no doubt.

It burns me that all the national & local sports programming shove baseball into the trunk, with their girlie mag collections and kiss football ass. An obvious psychological transference from the unattainable hottie du jour; Jessica Alba will do. Even I’m not immune to her. BTW all you jock sniffing db, I saw her before you did in the TV Flipper remake, while you were all placing bets on some random college football game. WE all know where your hearts & mouths really are.

So here we are, six months of meathead hosts drooling and asking ‘ coach, ‘ how they’ll defense the pass attack of some Division lll school. Searingly cerebral radio. The lack of vocabulary skills only surpassed by the amount of sucking up. AND all that airtime devoted to picks every week. Now that’s entertainment.

Well, if football can return every year, I can trot this one out again. Is there anything more shameful and telling, that says more about the United States, than the NFL franchise in our nation’s capitol, here in the 21st Century, is called the REDSKINS! A slur, once the equivalent of the word nigger in the argot Americana. Any who are offended by that historical fact, instead of checking the NFL injury reserved list to facilitate your betting, you could look it up.

As for my own personal integrity, I lament Jessie’s choice of projects. No Good Luck Chuck for me. I’ve got Dark Angel Season 1 waiting in my Netflix queue.

Johnny Cum Laudely

August 30, 2007 Leave a comment

The kings & queens of hindsight are speaking. The media is all lathered up. Suddenly all the information is available about the twisted soul who murdered 32 people at Virginia Tech. Seems as if he wasn’t suited for campus life, especially at such a large university. Seems as if he had socialization & communication problems. Oh, and those who vetted his admission, ‘ misinterpreted ‘ rules about an individual’s medical privacy.

In much the way the events of September 11, opened the door for more stringent laws regarding homeland security, I can see trouble ahead in dorm life. All twitchy Gen X-boxers, better keep their Wiis-wiis in their pants, or face the consequences of not making it past level 1. Here we go again, classic WASP misdirection. David Copperfield got nothin’ on them dudes.

I’m not a fan of VA Tech. I think they also dropped the ball, literally and figuratively with the Vick brothers. Coach Bubba & alums can dissemble & get as huffy as they like, but they dragged these individuals out of their rough surroundings because of their athletic skills. Now both are nothing short of criminals; talk about being asocial! What thought was given to that while recruiting them? they didn’t really fit anywhere but a football field, and Marcus not so much. Sure, Michael Vick got his NFL payday and we’ve seen the results. Add his recent woes to his lousy pass completion stats & Falcon brass are not all that weepy. . ..

The state of Virginia btw, gets no pass from me, in the case of the VA Tech tragedy. They sold a dangerous person a gun. Oh wait, make that 2, though they did make him wait another 30 days. This bullshit about warning the campus is also a huge ‘ what if. ‘ Yes, I think it would’ve been prudent. No doubt many of the deceased would not be. However, the perpetrator of such venomous intent, might well have escalated into unimagined realms. The chances to change the outcome, was long before that day. Long before.

The cliche ‘ only human ‘ applies here exponentially. All involved were, and are, only human. I admire the spirit of the Tech student body & wish them all the best forever. But the state & their institute of high learning, needs to address many things, rather than say, sucking revenue from unfastened seat belts & rabid football fans. I don’t advocate jailing any kid who carries around a copy of The Anarchist’s Handbook. But if anyone sees him around campus with floor plans, pointing at buildings, while making cartoonish ‘splodey sounds & laughing like DeNiro in Cape Fear, show some %$*#! sense. Focus his mad subterranean gaming skills & send him spelunking with some new high-tech weaponry in the ‘stans. . ..

Open letter to the State of Virginia re: Michael Vick

August 15, 2007 2 comments

I am no fan of Michael Vick or the mechanism which fosters the careers of those like him. As for the crime he is alleged ( as of this moment ) to be guilty of—I don’t even like dog racing. Cruelty to animals or any living thing, is an abomination.

Sending a person to prison is no doubt merited, depending on the nature of the crime & an individual’s prior record of malfeasance. However, I see no profit in punishing Michael Vick this way. I am not here to indict Virginia Tech, they are one of hundreds of big time college sports programs which recruit young people, who barely know what a college is, because they have incredible athletic skill. Yet, I am sorry to say, VA Tech has dropped the ball here & failed more than one Vick, literally in providing them with a philosophy of life beyond a big pay day.

But what will be gained by imprisoning Mr. Vick? If he is found guilty, either by his own admission or a trial, why not take advantage of this situation. Be creative with the punishment. Why not use every resource possible, and at his own expense, to rehabilitate Michael Vick, in a controlled yet enlightened environment. Educate him as to why what he participated in was wrong, and not just teach him to be sorry for getting caught at it. Use his money to educate others & to give aid & comfort to rescued animals.

So, to the judge & prosecuting attorney, please consider making your case & ruling a landmark. It can only lead to better things for man & animal, the state of Virgina and the quality of life. Sometimes the letter of the law needs a visionary hand to expand it’s message to humanity.

Furshadowing or My Pet Peeve

July 10, 2007 Leave a comment

I just watched the movie SHOOTER. After the set up combat/sniper intro, the story jumps ahead 3 years and we see the chief protagonist in an idyllic mountain home with his big ol’ sweety pooch. . .. Stop right there! Nobody move, nobody gets whacked.

In the course of my lifelong search to find the best free escapism, I read a lot of novels. After a few hundred I saw that one thing most of these writers had in common was using the same distressing plot device. If one of the characters had a pet, you could bet within short order, a horrible fate was coming for Spot, or Puff or even the %#*&! goldfish!

For me the blame lies right at the apocryphal cryonically frozen feet of Walt Disney. The avuncular creator of The Mouse simultaneously raised and lowered the bar 50 years ago with the purported children’s movie Old Yeller. I don’t want to give any spoilers but do the term hydrophobia mean anything to ya? Oh, I’m sure Walt was praised back then for introducing harsh reality into the genre. After all, kids are people too and should have their Pollyanna-like ( this was of course before Disney owned the rights to Pollyanna ) hopes & dreams shattered as quickly as possible, while inducing them to buy tie in products. If MacDonald’s had been a national powerhouse in the 50’s & not just a Chicago burger joint, I’m sure there would’ve been Old Yeller cups & action and inaction memorial figures with your fries.

Harrison Ford had a thriller out in recent memory, FIREWALL. It was not very well thought of & it again brought up the question of whether or not Mr. Ford, now in his 60s, is too old for all this huffin’, puffin’ & blowin’ things uppin’. Well, as far as the storyline went, it was by the numbers. Except for one. Spoiler Alert: The cute family dog lived!!! I bet a kid had something to do with that. Or maybe a girlfriend. Yeah, I like that idea. Though based on the reviews, most critics thought a kid probably wrote the screenplay. Me, dog lives? I gave it 5 stars. . ..

These writers were all children once. As jaded as I am, I doubt they all harbored the deep seated need to kill the dog. Spank the monkey? sure. Fido, no. Nor were they all the kind who pulled the wings off flies & walked them around on a leash before smoking them with a magnifying glass. OK, except for Stephen King. Since he’s mostly recovered from that hit & run accident now, I gotta say that dude is seriously fucked up. Though we do share a secret, don’t we Stevie. . ..

So, what up wit dat? It’s a puzzler. Is it supposed to make the reader instantly hate the evildoers? It works, but mostly I really loathe the author. This is because, they really killed the animal. Didn’t they. . .. AND now I’ve blown their sick little cover, lookout. I’m guessing it’s grannies next. Sweet ones too, only she won’t be back like in Little Red Riding Hood. Unless it’s as a vengeful bloodsucking demon and/or agent.

I’m Sorry But So Is Brenda Lee*

June 13, 2007 1 comment

I apologize to those of you who enter search data such as arc d’ Triomphe, which is an historical architectural arch in France, and get a diatribe about Paris Hilton! Or foxy boxing and see just one snotty line about that execrable pursuit. Or something about say, the Boston Red Sox and have to read the truth about them.

AND sorry to fans of Marshall Crenshaw, who recorded a version, and Ben Vaughn, who wrote a terrific song with the above *title. US Copyright Law does not permit copyrights for titles. Providing it’s a unique, original creation, which is in no way intended to cause confusion with another more successful work. This will also explain why I am currently working on a new screenplay called Pirates of the Caribbean: Kiera Knightley Showers Nightly for 3 Hours! It’s an independent production, I sold all my comic books & baseballs cards, with only one goal: spending time with Kiera. I am so over Paris. . ..