Hey Joe

Just put some chips in a bowl and run ice out to us when we look low.

While I am unaware of any photographic evidence with which I might validate it, I had occasion to attend a little Boxing Day soirée at my BFF's pad the other night. That's right; the friendship remains strong and vital. And, doubling the pleasure and the fun, at said soirée I also had the divine pleasure of my first face-to-face introduction with the lovely Sonia and her nerd beau, David. It was quite a momentous event, all of that talent and beauty in one room.

Good times were had, booze was consumed and there's even talk of getting the band back together.

So what did you losers do on Boxing Day? Watch TV and play with your broken toys? I thought so.

R.I.P. Catch-up

I know it's the holidays and that we'd all like to think of nothing but sleigh rides, roasting chestnuts, sugar plums and the laughter of children. But like Santa, the Grim Reaper has also been very busy, and he doesn't get to take an eleven month vacation come December 26^th.

Arnold Stang

1918 – 2009

Nerdy actor, Arnold Stang suffered a massive wedgie and died on December 20.

Brittney Murphy

1977 – 2009

Actress Brittney Murphy tragically passed away on December 20. At this time it appears to have been the natural result of cardiac arrest.

Kim Peek

1951 – 2009

Kim Peek, the idiot savant (or is the term "idiot" no longer politically correct?) who was the inspiration for Dustin Hoffman's character in Rain Man, died of a heart attack on December 19, 2009.

Vic Chestnutt

1964 – 2009

Musician Victor "Vic" Chestnutt, in a coma from an overdose of muscle relaxants, died on Christmas Day. Chestnutt played wheelchair bound (not a huge stretch) Terence in Sling Blade and appears in one of the movies best, and funniest scenes – getting the band together.

Terence: We wrote one last night outside the mini mart. Morris called it "Stuart Drives A Comfortable Car" and then like in country songs, you know, in parentheses it says "There's Usually Someone in the Trunk." And, and um, I came up with a tune just a hummin'.

Doyle: See, you don't want to question the genius, Vaughan. Morris here is a modern-day poet, kinda like in olden times.

Morris: Yeah, I got a new tune in composition entitled "The Thrill." And it goes somethin' like this: "I stand on the hill, not for a thrill, but for the breath of a fresh kill. Never mind the man who contemplates doin' away with license plates. He stands alone, anyhow, bakin' the cookies of discontent by the heat of the laundromat vent. Leavin' his soul!" Then like in poetry I go dot-dot-dot, you know, kinda off center, then I drop down and then I go: "Leavin' his soul! And partin' the waters of the medulla oblongata of - -brrrrrr! - -mankind!" That was a damn good song, wasn't it Doyle?

Terence: I don't think that's right. I believe the "Dot Dot Dot" come between "Medula" and "Oblongota".

[Morris shakes his head]

Terence: Well, it did!

Morris: The dots are where I say they are. Melody and tune, that's your trade, Terence. You're a tunesmith.

Comedy genius right there, folks.

 

James Gurley

1939 – 2009

Big Brother and the Holding Company guitarist, James Gurley, died from a…wait for it…heart attack on December 20. Gurley had an affair with Janis Joplin shortly after she joined the band, but when Gurley's wife Nancy (along with their child and their dog) busted in on them in the sack, well that more or less turned the proverbial hose on their shenanigans. Nancy OD'd on H in 1970, paving the way for a reunion with Joplin, but unfortunately she also OD'd on H in 1970.

So…

Most of yesterday was spent at Premier Surgery Center in Concord, where Lisa underwent a lovely little procedure called a hysteroscopy. While poking around, Dr. F also performed another lovely procedure called an endometrial ablation.

We checked in at 9:45 AM, only to discover that the good dr. was running about 1.5 hours behind schedule, thus we got to hang out in pre-op until close to noon. We met a nice woman from Walnut Creek who was also waiting for Dr. F. I don't recall her name, but she was sporting a teal thong and a tramp stamp. Sorry, it wasn't my fault that she stood up just as I came into the room.

Anyway, Lisa got the relaxing cocktail and was wheeled away. By 12:40 I was holding her hand in post-op waiting for her to come around. We spent close to an hour in recovery so that she could get her bearings. We were discussing how surgery these days is very much like a conveyer belt; wheel 'em into pre-op, wait. Wheel 'em into surgery. Perform. Wheel 'em into post-op, wait. Wheel 'em out to parking lot, wave good-bye.

We swung by CVS, to pick up the Vicodin (yea me), got her home and in bed then fed her some lunch and some meds. She napped a bit, but her back was really hurting. She was up having dinner and at the girl's school for the Christmas show by 6:30. By 9:30 she was home and back in bed with more meds.

And today?

Back at work, riding roughshod over thirty, sugared up, ready-for-vacation 8-yr olds. The woman's an animal. She could so kick my ass, you know if she wasn't a chick and all. Well, she might still manage it on a good day. Or bad.

So today is December 18. Christmas is exactly one week away. So far the only Christmas decorating that has been done is the erection (hee, hee) of the fake tree in the corner of the family room (still undecorated) and displaying the Christmas cards we've received. I guess we can also count the Christmassy tablecloth and runner on the table. Am I really the only one who's just not into the whole Christmas thing? I try to get into it for the kid's sake, but sometimes the effort is herculean.

Guess I'll try to pull the decorations out of the rafters without killing myself. If I fail, bye.

State of Indiana takes the Starch out of Wrinkles

Convicted murderer, Matthew Eric Wrinkles, was executed on Friday December 11 at the Indiana State Prison in Michigan City, IN.

On Tuesday, December 8 Wrinkles was served his "special meal," the Indiana State Prison equivalent of a last meal. It's served three days prior to the execution as prison officials have found that many of the condemned seem to lose their appetite the evening prior to their execution. Go figure. No point wasting a good meal though.

Wrinkles was convicted of the 1994 murders of his wife, Debra Jean, Jean's brother Mark Fulkerson, and Fulkerson's wife Natalie. All three were killed at the Fulkerson home when Wrinkles, apparently high on meth and wearing camouflage face paint and clothing, kicked open the door armed with a gun and a knife.

Wrinkle's special meal consisted of prime rib, loaded baked potato, pork chops with steak fries, rolls and two salads with ranch dressing.

So, apropos of death and dying, I think I totally effed up on round three of an interview today. I was so off my game. I should have just cancelled. The first question they asked me "So, tell us a little bit about yourself." and I just deflated. I fear that I may have audibly sighed. God damnit - I'm middle-aged, out of work, stressed to the fucking max, depressed as shit, and sick to fucking death of having to sit in front of people and try to convince them that I'm competent enough to do the job. But will you hire me anyway?

Loser.

Nothing like the feeling of Hot Caramel

Relax alumni of New York High School of Performing Arts, Coco ain't dead.

In the better late than never department, several months ago Lisa took the girl and a friend to see the remake of Fame. That evening we were discussing the original movie, or what we could remember of it anyway. One of us (OK, Lisa) recalled Irene Cara exposing her sad and withered duggs, which begat a discussion on sad and withered duggs Irene Cara. Neither of us could recall hearing much about her since the early 80's, so Lisa asked that my next Random Celebrity Update be on Irene Cara.

Most of you probably remember that, in addition to Fame and its appropriately titled chart topping single, Cara also co-wrote and recorded Flashdance…What a Feeling, which was a huge hit for the movie appropriately titled Flashdance. Mmmmm, Jennifer Beals….. Flashdance…WAF won Cara a slew of awards back in 83 and 84 including the 1983 Academy Award for Best Song, and a Grammy for Best Female Pop Vocal Performance in 1984.

But what else?

Her pre-Fame and Flashdance credits include appearances on The Electric Company (loved it), Kojak, and What's Happening!

Between Fame and Flashdance, Cara appeared in a PBS TV movie about civil rights leader, Medgar Evers where she played Myrlie Evers-Williams. She also appeared in 1982's Killing 'em Softly.

In 1982, Cara starred in a pilot episode of her own sitcom, appropriately titled Irene, but it was not picked up by the network despite favorable reviews. In 1983 she played herself in the dismal Mr. T. movie, D.C. Cab.

For the rest of the 80's and 90's she appeared in a handful of forgettable movie and television roles, her last Imdb credit being the host of a 1995, 23 minute video offering tips on how to avoid and end domestic violence.

Her songs have continued to receive airplay, and have appeared on dozens of movie and television soundtracks, everything from Ally McBeal and Nip/Tuck to Dancing with the Stars.

Today, Cara fronts the hip hop/jazz/rock/R&B/Latin/soul band appropriately named Hot Caramel.

Wanted: One Pepper

With the execution today of Kenneth Biros, a slot has opened up for a new Pepper. Head Pepper, David Naughton has asked me to spread the word that Pepper Rush Week begins tomorrow. Any interested Peppers are encouraged to pledge.

Now that the announcements are out of the way let's get down to business.

Biros was sentenced to die for the 1991 rape and murder of 22-year-old Tami Engstrom. Biros offered Ms. Engstrom a ride home from a bar and instead raped her, killed her and scattered her body parts throughout Ohio and Pennsylvania. Gee, what would he have done had she asked him to change a flat tire? Anyway, the state finally got around to carrying out the sentence. Better late than never I guess.

SO -

Prior to his execution, Biros consumed a last meal consisting of:

Cheese pizza, fried mushrooms, onion rings, Doritos, French onion dip, blueberry ice cream, cherry pie, and….wait for it….Dr. Pepper.

Here’s something

We woke up this morning to snow.

I believe the last time we got any sort of snow at this level was 1976; yours truly was in 6^th grade, same as the boy is now. How's that for a coincidence? Or not.

Anyway, what snow we got has pretty much already melted away. So much for a white Christmas.

 

I’ve got nothing.

(Original artwork by Evangeline Cachinero)

 

Actual Craigslist Ad

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Please submit samples of your work in either raw text or links. No attachments.
If you're approved you can start today.

Really??!! I can start today?! If I take the time to send you samples, and you deem them worthy, then I can start today working for 1 cent per word!? Count me in!

Cheap motherf***ers.

Channeling Kerouac

I'm a bit under the weather today so here's a piece I came across while searching through some old files. I wrote this a few years ago after visiting the SF Public Library to see the original scroll of On the Road.

 

Colt squatted on his haunches, his back against the grimy, piss-stained concrete wall, coughing through his first cigarette of the morning. The ally behind the Grove St. Art Gallery and the office supply store had provided a night's shelter from the winds that now shook the potted trees in their large concrete planter boxes at the mouth of the ally.

He fit his bedroll into his rucksack and fished the deep pockets of his khakis for loose change; $1.87, enough for coffee and maybe some of yesterday's pie if the diner hadn't tossed it yet, but he'd have to hurry.

Hefting his rucksack he darted out of the ally and up Larkin St. to the Main Library. The public buildings had to allow access to the bathrooms, and he slipped past the day guard who eyed him with contempt but said nothing. Looks did not bother Colt anymore. Just another pair of eyes in a face he'd never see again.

The library bathroom was a popular spot for the Civic Center locals, but smells did not bother Colt anymore either. He took up a spot at an empty sink and stripped off his shirt to take his paper towel bath. With another wet towel he rubbed his face and teeth, then drank several cold handfuls before rinsing and spitting into the rusty sink; digging into his pack beneath the nickel notebooks and pencils for his last semi-clean shirt before running wet fingers through his tangle of greasy hair. Unable to locate his razor since he'd left the Y in Bakersfield three days ago, he would once again have to forego shaving. He studied himself in the mirror and frowned. A few days beard made him look mean. Not good when trying to score a hand out or a ride.

The bathroom was starting to take on more of Larkin Street's regulars so Colt grabbed a few handfuls of paper towel, stuffed them into his pack and made for the door. Heading for the stairs he paused and glanced into the Jewett Gallery, currently displaying thirty-six feet of Jack Kerouac's original manuscript of On the Road. Hovering around the long, glass display case were several college kids; wannabe hipsters complete with notebooks in the pockets of their expensive leather jackets. Colt smiled to himself and shook his head. Shifting the rucksack on his shoulders he turned and headed up the stairs. The guard tracked him with bored eyes until Colt pushed through the glass doors onto Grove Street. He hung a left on Hyde and ducked into the Sugar Plum Coffee shop.

"Cup of coffee-black," he said to the young Asian woman behind the counter, "And a slice of pie if you have any left."