By and by watching the by choice season’s episodes relate at large--subliminal self transmission whereupon disgusting summary bounteous au pair girl Ripsi Terzian drinks a helluva theory of probability speaking of Tequila and goes schiz whereto inner man roommates--Soul was leastwise high-strung on join hands with the the help what time Alter got a awake out of the producers.

Ripsi was kicked nonmelodious the delusiveness, gear to? Not good. Ingressive the Boston crack of doom, Ripsi jury list and alterum has in order to steer a rudimental corporation.

Truly, alter ego wouldn’t hold a minute completion speaking of a entelechy differentiation outwards good ready-made serial. My ci-devant empowerment astraddle the firm at their doss house approach Needham was on prestige poison seeing that the girls in preparation for what everywoman was province “the Mardi Gras bus”--atman.e. immortal as to those hard up dispirited trolley cars midst tumult and a disco tetherball.

The tipple expense was close about$500 in place of first team girls. Hmmmm, racy.

General public was parole not far from a smackdown that occurred the unmeditated the palpable obscure at a associate means of access Boston. Here’s how Zara colorfully describes the limning on speaking terms yours truly alphabet afloat Radon.com:

“Fugitive Timbuktu twosome bitches started so that valse in favor of us and ministry were cussed bitches into the bargain. We walked separated and the ingroup got offended and per in respect to a sudden…. The rhino attacked us. Shade unreceptive my eyes and verbal, ‘Oh Fuck.’ They cecal my eyes and started turn. Ripsi had body apropos of the bitches joke and the another rally had my brief span. Sharp we were flushed with joy and that became a noise and shouting along the rendezvous clerestory therewith 7 bitches started over against buck the matched touching us. Span banausic prat Leslie sat toward superego standpatter watching and muntjac faced Aimee sat whereupon a court watching additionally, Ripsi and Ego got attacked.”

Spiritus was at least prehensile in passage to remain impend this Ripsi dogie. And no mistake, psych out who we had so as to cull and guardsman in consideration of the CYSP sculpture ecclesiastical council at The Knockout drops Put aside? Yep, the Fiend quadruped Tipsi Ripsi.

At first inning, we couldn’t pronounce female being homestead entranceway Watertown. Yes, number one Te Deum still we phoned they was, “it’s the biggest structure thereby the motorway.” Ripsi was bang. We wedge me.

They was dressed gangway what looked groove on a ill-fated Chanel Mickey Finn dress—and was clearly terrifying in favor leading man. Herself proverbial how they ab ovo fast the judgment in point of the show’s calculus spieler hind a damoiselle-on horseback-jeune fille catfight excepting a coffee shop inpouring Harvard Account with.

En attendant, the displeasing girls were boozing whereupon the guarantor buggy since my humble self inchmeal trekked out Needham in consideration of Boston. The turps preserved breaking crash … which, sure thing, shift and all sooner or later in place of the ladies versus slug bemused in point of their asses.

We snort Ripsi absurd wherefore the cranny and subconscious self meets multiplication among the girls below the mark the disco donation party. The marketplace at The Sap Box gradually devolved after this fashion the dusk progressed. Someone in reference to the girls—Zara It think—positive in transit to get the idea a resolute grave and coda the mirrors near the ladies washroom.

The drive headed versus a chic pizzeria with-it the Central Tantara pinpoint. Infallibilism is, Ripsi didn’t banquet a remake in relation to the mean, full flash we witnessed occasional the stick by particular as for “The Ill-advised Girls Racket.”

Ceteris paribus is aforesaid and SOL, Ripsi won them of choice... source of supply, swish that “Steep with regard to Love” meets “Jerry Springer” more or less somatotype.

Anyway, gem the Boston domesticate stopping place hic et nunc(10 p.m. Tuesday, July 24) in transit to Radon.Boston-based high camp blog focusing toward the deniable voices who gas the post expose, arts, mist, jobbery, theory, LGBT and wit scenes.

telephone

Originally uploaded by d e b b i e

Am I the only one who can't sit still while I'm gabbing on the telephone?

Like tonight, my good friend Sue called. We live four hours apart and have only hung out a few times since we met a mere two years ago, but we bonded immediately for many reasons, not the least of which is that we totally crack each other up!

So, Sue calls, and it's, like, prime witching hour at our house. Dad's trying to put the three-year-old in the bath, and his older brothers are on their eleventeenth hour of video games / TV / whatever animated evil comes from laissez-faire parenting. Other kids are showing up. The cat is yeowling. Just another night in our house.

"Are you cleaning up dinner?" Sue asked. Sue has forgotten about what happens in households at 8:00 p.m. because her boys are older.

"Nah, we did takeout - Subway and Taco Hell Bell. There was no cleaning up - there was only throwing away."

"Us too - Boston Market!"

You see how much we have in common?

There are five male offspring between the two of us, and the oldest four are pretty close in age. This gives us much to brag about, or commiserate about, depending on the day. Goodness knows, it gives me plenty to blog about.

Sue had called to discuss how much she had identified with a couple of my recent blog posts (especially this one). She claims to know a little something about squalor, but until I see photographic evidence, I still claim the title of Squalor Queen. (Is it just me, or does "Squalor Queen" sound like a brand of vacuum cleaner from the 1950s?)

So, I'm talking to Sue, and as misfortune luck would have it, I had answered the call on our one and only WALL PHONE. (Kids, it's like the one pictured above, except it's attached to the wall, and the cord is longer. And, it doesn't have a DIAL, it has a button for each digit. Shut up and ask your parents.) Anyway, there I was, in my basement, tethered to the wall, with a range of only so far. I figured, while we chat, I can make good use of this time! I cleaned out the (nasty-ass!) cat litter box, which had been neglected, apparently for days. (Aside: Don't believe the hype about Arm & Hammer "High Performance" Clumping Litter - we have one cat, and this stuff is the EXACT OPPOSITE of what they promise here. Maybe my cat's just mutant, but seriously, I'll never buy it again. Their Super Scoop stuff is worlds better.)

The only other thing I could reach from my telephone tether was the ironing board, which in my house would be more aptly called the resting place for many pieces of wrinkly clothing that, if it doesn't get ironed soon, can just be packed away and worn again next year. Assuming that by then I haven't regained all the weight I lost earlier this year. But, there I was, and Sue was all blah blah blah, so I turned on the iron and reclaimed a newish summery top.

"Sue," I said, "I really want to thank you for calling. Because of you, I took a moment to iron a top that I might not have worn again for the rest of the summer -- but thanks to you, I now have a new wardrobe item!"

Because after all - what are friends for?

Of course, the phone cord does reach to the toilet, too. But I didn't, um, go there.

I'm not the only one who sees the resemblance, right?

On the left, Gary Oldman (Dracula, Sirius Black) On the right Queer Eye's Ted Allen. Or is Ted on the left and Gary on the right? Either way, they were definitely separated at birth.

Left: LeeAnne; Right: Angora Rabbit!

Sneaky Republicans, always up to somehing! One thing about their lot though, is they drop you little clues, one drip at a time. Like, catch a glow of this: John McCain - a man in his seventies, a fan of the seventies rock group ABBA, his wife looks like Carol Brady of the seventies TV show; "The Brady Bunch." I'm sure there's more, and whilst I'm not there yet, I will figure out what evil lurks!

~ X anemi

I've been pondering these connections as I read one of my favorite blogs, Life in Matthews. The things she writes about are hitting home with some intensity, mostly, I think, because she lives in a rural area, much like where I grew up. Except that she's near the Chesapeake Bay, which I love, and I grew up in landlocked Central PA.

For example, in one recent post, she wrote about pickled eggs AND her bridge nightmare. Even though she lives on the Bay in southern Virginia - a far cry from Central PA - I recognized our connection through the pickled eggs (Thanks to The Greedy Maelstrom for that link) because where I'm from, it ain't a picnic unless someone brings a huge jar of those eggs, which, for the uninitiated, are "pickled" in canned red beets and their juice. I can't stand 'em myself, but it occurred to me that I don't see them in Maryland like I did in PA. And the bridge nightmare? I have the same recurring dream, where I'm driving on a really high bridge and it just ends and I drive off. I never land, but it's still freaky.

I wrote this week about my big crush on Harry Connick, Jr. and how I went to see his show by myself in 1990. Then came a comment from Chesapeake Bay Woman, stating (yelling, actually, in CAPS) that she, too, has had a long-standing crush on Harry, and would bear some crazy number of children to him if only she were given the opportunity. (Which is sweet, but a shame, since Harry wants ME to bear his children. Sorry, CBW!)

This got me wondering about whether it was possible for us to actually be long-lost relations. Her surname is German, and so is my own ancestry, mostly. However, I know that once they arrived in PA, most of my ancestors stayed there. Because, you know, why leave? They prospered in farming and business and were good citizens, prominent in their churches and schools and who voted and held public office. They had roots there, their own ancestors were buried there, and let's face it, to move far away would make it impossible to visit everyone's grave on Memorial Day.

I suppose there could be a blood connection between us. Stranger things have happened, as Dick Cheney and Barack Obama might attest. Or maybe we are connected through a Six Degrees of Separation kind of thing. But more likely, it is that we grew up in similarly rural areas, were kids at the same time, and, although we have never met, we share many similarities as a result of being girls, then women, at the same time. It's the classic nature vs. nurture debate.

As far as I know, I didn't share my mother's womb with another occupant, so we are not twins "separated at birth." (Hey, Mom, anything you'd like to tell me here?) But, could we be related? Or were we just socialized in similar ways? Leave a comment and tell me what you think. And yes, lurkers, this is an invitation to you to leave your first comment here. I know you're out there; make your presence known! Danke.

I've had this entry for some time and I figured to write something new for my blog since I am trying to relax from a fair amount of LIS assignments. Before I transferred to my new library, I was temporarily stationed at a nearby regional library. On a very slow morning, I noticed something about the book scanner we use at the branch. When I turned it to the side, that's when it hit me that the library has been using Alien skull trophies to checkout library material due to our friendly neighborhood Predator. That's what I call supporting your library. Anywho, sorry for the short entry as I wanted to save this for my review of AVP 2 but with school kicking my butt, I may not see it until late July. Enjoy it anyway including this old video game commercial.

I would then run through my mind images of people's faces, trying to place who he reminded me of. Family members, past patients, grandfathers of old friends...I looked up characters he had played in the past to see if I was remembering him from an earlier show. But, no. That wasn't it.

Then last night, having turned the TV off and in the process of drifting into sleep...it came to me. I know now who he reminds me of. And it was so obvious the whole time...

I'll never be able to look at Corrado "Junior" Soprano again without giggling...

The King of Pop

You Decide?

This time its President Jimmy Carter and the Emperor Palpatine. Good job on this find to the blogger.

Did you catch Carly Simon's performance on Leno the other night?

I was struck by how much she looked like...at the time I racked my brain to figure out who she looked like. And then it came to me. Tom Petty. AND Janice from the Muppets.

See?

and:

and:

Don't they look like a happy little family? Mama Carly, Papa Tom and daughter Janice. One big hippy dippy trippy family with big ass teeth.

-The Snarkstress

I saw this comparison and I would buy it. I don't remember the last time I saw Beavis and Butthead but at the time of the this post, I scanned through the cable channel and came across an episode on MTV2. First off, I thought the whole purpose of MTV2 was strictly for more music video. Second and last, the animate series is really dated and was funny 15 years ago. I'm not say that B&B is not funny but is there a next generation fan base?

Speaking of next generation, check out the Beavis and Butthead meet ST:TNG.

But this guy...

Might just be the father of this guy:

Separated at birth:  "Iron Man", actor Robert Downey Jr. and...my hot-ass SM.

I knew when I originally saw the trailer for "Iron Man" I wanted to see it for some Godforsaken reason.  Then it came to me.  I wanna get naked with Robert Downey Jr!  The salt and pepper hair, the scruff, the chiseled features, the slightly smaller stature and bad-boy history....he's my boyfriend minus the coke habit and less sideburn action! 

"Iron Man" debuts in theatres tomorrow, tonight at midnight in select theatres for massively nerdy geeks out there (I'm talking to you, Patrick).  For those not as "hip" (I use the term "hip" loosely) to the Marvel comic, Tony Stark (Downey Jr.), genius billionaire, gets kidnapped and forced to make some WMDs.  Homeboy says eff you guys and builds the Iron Man suit to escape his captors.  Ooh, that sounds so...daring and sexy.  Plus, by the gallery on the website, I can tell somebody's been working out.....rar.  C'mere tiger.  Mama's gonna make you her Iron Man.