I often use this space in a futile attempt to describe with words what a special young man Mr. Kyle Daley is. Now you can experience it for yourself. Merry Christmas.
Author: fifteenkey (Page 66 of 95)
300 posts. It’s not 300 big league wins, but I’m sure many a blogger hopeful crashed and burned far short of the mark. My 300th is coming up, and to mark the occasion, I want to post about something you want to read about.
What should I write about for my 300th post?
C’mon, challenge me. This can also answer the question, “Who the hell visits here?” After all, “Blogs enable you to have a relationship with your public, whatever that public is.” – Jeff Jarvis , author, Buzz Machine… Whatever that is.
While you ponder that for 44 seconds, here’s a riveting report about how Bill Clinton tried to kill Santa. Bastard!
Last night I attended a going away gathering for a work acquaintance. While there, I sipped a beer and chatted with a woman I’ve worked with for a few years who’s political views are… Well, Donald Rumsfeld is the man of her dreams. “I just love him,” she said last night. As we were chatting she exclaimed, “Did you hear about the Democratic Senator who might die?” Her implication was that if Sen. Tim Johnson (D – SD) does succumb to bleeding in the brain caused by arteriovenous malformation, that South Dakota Republican Gov. Michael Rounds would certainly name a Republican to replace Senator Johnson. That would create a 50-50 split in the Senate between Donkeys and Elephants with the tiebreaker being a dick… Dick Cheney. Her glee in telling me the news was not really shocking. When we worked in adjacent offices, I’d often say to her, “Goodnight Ann,” a reference to the right-wing bitch from hell, Ann Coulter. My response came in an instant: “Well, if he is severely brain damaged, perhaps he’ll start voting with the Republicans.”
It’s not all about presents, and the internet is proving to be very helpful with all sorts of holiday solutions.
About 40 years ago, I saw Santa Claus Conquers the Martians in a theater. Even as a young’n, I knew it was one of the worst films ever. Enjoy!
Northampton, MA is a very lesbian-friendly place. Last night as Jeff and I dined and walked the streets of the cool little arts haven before a tremendous Pernice Brothers show, we saw plenty of them. Fat lesbians, skinny lesbians, lesbians that climb on rocks. Tough lesbians, sissy lesbians, even lesbians with… Well, you get the point. I joked that we should have had a lesbian band back in the Tar Hut Records days when several of our bands were from the NoHo area. “They also could have been called ‘the Ex-Husbands.’” One of our bands actually was called “the Ex-Husbands,” but they were three guys from… Nevermind.
The line into the Iron Horse for the 10:00 show was about 87 deep, but it moved reasonably quickly and soon we were looking for a seat in a room that was like one big game of musical chairs. We spotted two chairs in the second row of tables dead center in front of the stage. “Hi, is anyone sitting in these two chairs,” I asked. One of two women sitting at the table looked indignantly at me and said, “My feet are on one of those chairs.” I see… “Well, do you mind if we sit in them?” “My feet are comfortable. There are other chairs.” At that point, Jeff said, “Let’s go,” and mumbled something about “evil.” I said, “Hey, thanks” and walked away, but I was really pissed at the rudeness.
About an hour later, as Jeff and I were perched perfectly in the front row of the balcony and sitting on a cushioned futon, I noticed the two women embracing and doing the “goo-goo, ga-ga” thing, and I thought, someday that hater will turn her invective on the girlfriend and it won’t be a pretty sight. I don’t really care about someone’s personal preferences, but damn, how about a little simple courtesy? Maybe she was angry about lesbian jokes…
I think I will… Jeffro and I head West imminently to enjoy a fine dining experience in NoHo and then settle into the Iron Horse to see the Pernice Brothers. Actually, Joe is the only Pernice full-time in the band as his brother Bob “comes and goes as he pleases.” I don’t think it’s a Gallagher brothers thing… Anyway, I’m doing my thing to support the band, so why don’t you do yours? Their new record is the title of this post and is available from the band’s site or at your local CD store. You can live a little right now by immersing yourself in the big budget video of the hit single, “Somerville.” Hey, while you’re there, check out a full stream of “Snow” from “Discover a Lovelier You.” Rocks.
The calm in the darkness on my edge of town was jostled by a restless psyche at 4:00am. Since then I’ve devoured all there is to read in my Bloglines feeds and then veered off into blogs discussing SAP’s recent analysts conference and their strategy for small to mid-sized businesses (SMB). WTF? What’s wrong with me? I should still be snug in my bed with anything but SMB dancing in my head. Speaking of SAP, their small business TV ads portray the owners as dopes with their eyes widened at the mere thought of having SAP in their business.
How to I segue from that to abstract art? Oh, Jackson Pollock. A recent article tells the tale of some drip who thinks he found some Pollock’s in a mayonnaise jar kept on Funk And Wagner’s porch… or something like that. That article led me to this one about the house he shared with wife, Lee Krasner, and then I got thinking about whether he ever did anything with a Christmas theme. That was probably pretty naive of me given the darkness he lived in, so after finding no such work, I searched further and hit a mother lode.
My Christmas by Luiza Vizoli was the first piece found, but like striking gold, if you keep digging and following the vein, the value of your find increases. Burrowing like the beaver in Caddyshack, I dug up A Grand Don’t Come for Free by Jaime Lyn Zatloukal – Best.
These, and many other fabulous paintings can be found at EBSQ an online art association and community of independent artists offering original art at incredibly reasonable prices. Check it out.
OK, that’s it for this morning. Now it’s time to put up the tree and start my “Ten Part Mental Fitness Program.” I may have to push that one to 11…
Tonight’s search for “Santa’s Little Helper” turned up Mr. Potatoe Head, the Dan Quayle Edition.
Let’s get this party started with a perfect gift for any pal planning a traditional Christmas beer bash! Now, many of you are looking for more sophisticated gifts to um, present at the swanky parties you attend. Me, I lean toward either the nostalgic or purely intellectual gift. Then again, you may opt for something edgy and high-tech, but with a “humanoid personality.” In any case, you can’t go wrong with any of these impressive holiday tokens.
You know, the holidays are one of the most romantic times of the year. In 2006, I think it would be just swell if some of you more progressive women got on bended knee and gave your man one of these.
Even the holidays have a downside, and Mr. Glass Half-Full is here to point out a solution. Yep, after the egg-nogs, cookies and pork rinds, this can help you manage away the holiday wreath that’s grown around your waist.
Oops, I almost forgot to note the next holiday film feature from “Fifteenkey’s Film Festivus.” This is the Daley boys favorite clip from “Elf.” “Look at you!”
Of course none of us know when we might see someone, smile, or say “I love you” for the last time, but for some of “the greatest generation,” today is a day to say goodbye.
I was under the impression that “28 days” was some rehab term, but I guess it’s an old one. So many people are fucked up these days treatment facilities can’t handle the volume if they give people 28 days. Whatever. I suppose the 28 days was the time it took to get shit out of your system and then try to resume a normal life. When I searched the term it brought up the IMDB link to the film and interestingly one person posted a comment comparing it to “Girl, Interrupted.” Having never seen it, I read a little…
I think I’m looking for some kind of answer, but fuck it. Sometimes you just have to laugh. Here’s a little exchange between Angelina Jolie (Lisa) and Whoppi Goldberg (Valerie):
Lisa: Take one fuckin’ step and I’ll jam this in my aorta.
[aiming a pen at her neck]
Valerie: Lisa, your aorta is in your chest.
Lisa: Good to know.