Effluvia

I'm just going to steal a bunch of shit from Beth. In return, I'll mention that Beth is quite entertaining, and you should read her stuff. Fair enough?

Temptation Island - The Official Site.

Joe Rogan - He was on news radio and is, indeed, a funny guy.

And Joe links to this important public service message for women everywhere.

Which led me to this site with a very cool name. The magic that is internet, huh?



Journal Roulette

Smithereens - Cool name. Dozens of children? Possibly.



Siobhanorama!

Today, on Passions:

Kay was questioned about Charity's whereabouts. Timmy, Tabby, and Hecuba all got ready for the battle. Tabithas begs for Timmy's life to be spared. Ethan confronted the tabloid reporter and demanded to know who sent the information. Father Lonigan sensed evil in Charityıs room. Sam told Ivy he will never forgive her.



The Coworkers
Ain't Cool Dep't.

The way king cake disappears from the break room. I swear, it's like I work with a pack of hyenas. But most coworkers are like that.




08 February 2001
Sell Your Panties

I was walking to my little book club meeting last night, and my route took me by Lafayette Cemetery #1. Just as I went past the gates a brreze blew through them, carrying a rotting, sick-sweet funk that really could have only been one thing. After you smell a decomposing corpse the night can only get better, right?

The girl who was hosting our group last night lives on St. Charles. She made a point to invite everyone to come to her house for the Mardi Gras parades that start next weekend.

"You say that now, and you only think you mean it," I said, "but will you think differently when I bring a drunken horde of friends into your house to use your bathroom?" She assured me that it was a more-the-merrier situation.

It's an All-Star list of good friends coming for Mardi Gras, too. Jen and James, Donna and Jimmy, Glen and - making a special guest appearance - Donald Fred!

(Yes, six people - eight, if you count me and Sonya - packed into our pleasant but modest apartment. It will be like Jonestown, I'm afraid.)

Donnie and I went to high school together and, during our later years there, became pretty good friends. Sonya went to college with him at Arkansas State for a semester and then, a few years later, Donnie transferred to UCA where we had all sorts of fun. Donnie still live in Little Rock and while we do hear from him every once in a while I probably haven't seen him since...hell, in three or four years, anyway. This is going to be seriously fun.

So, in honor of Donnie's pending arrival, I'll tell a Donnie Story:

Once upon a time, way back in the early nineties, Donnie was working at Big Star or Kroger or some damned grocery store in West Memphis. Donnie is an outgoing, friendly, chatty person who always had a kind word for his customers. A master of customer service is Donnie.

Anyway. So, this woman comes through Donnie's line one day. Donnie sees that, amongst her many purchases, she is getting a package of Ambesol, the toothache medicine.

"Relieves pain faster that you can say Ambesol!" says Donnie to the customer, quoting the old commercial for the product.

The woman looks at Donnie in a somewhat horrified way and says nothing.

Then Donnie grabs the package to scan it. This is when he realizes it's not Ambesol at all but Anusol, a product that cures anal itching!

Neither one of them said anything after that.




Dear Rush Limbaugh,

I was flipping through radio stations yesterday and I caught a few seconds of your show. You were, predictably, blustering away about Bill Clinton.

But I got to thinking about that. I mean, talk about setting up a straw man to knock down, Rush! Bill Clinton is unemployed, dude! He's a house-husband. Nothing wrong with that, but I just don't see how he can continue being the menace to the American Way that you make him out to be while gardening or puttering around in the kitchen. Move on, buddy.

And really, Rush, what exactly do you have to bitch about these days? The legislative, judicial and executive branches of government are all controlled by your people, right? If I were you I'd quit bitching and start gloating.

Just a thought,
Harold




I was listening to one of Sonya's AM Gold CDs the other day on the way home from work, and the Dave Loggins song Please Come to Boston came on. This song contains the line:

"You can sell your paintings on the sidewalk..."

I think, if someone were to do a snotty punk version of this tune nowadays, they should replace that line with:

"You can sell your panties on the internet..."

Just a thought.




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