A Sunday Flickr Babe
Summer Days, originally uploaded by modelux.com.
Bright eyes, cute nose. Check out the rest of her photo shoot, too.
I wrote a little over 2000 words today. Not bad, considering I had to take a nap mid-way through.
The muse keeps giving me little hints as to what is yet to come. Not much, but enough that I know that she knows what she’s doing. I wonder if she has something other than Scheherezade in mind? I see intimations of that altered path . . . other characters and subplots yammering for attention. This may not be 1001 Nights after all.
D.
2445 words today
Live-blogging tonight, some time around 7 PM PST.
I can’t write for shit during the week, but at least I can write on the weekends. Below the cut you’ll find a snippet. To recap: Lisa’s had a crappy day. Her boyfriend (Henry) dumped her, then told nasty lies about her to all the other high school kids. She’s probably going to get suspended for beating up the two boys who repeated those things, and on top of all that, she suspects her mama’s using drugs again. There’s an excellent chance Child Protective Services will invade their lives (again), and so she and her little brothers Billy Ray and Cyrus will be placed in different foster homes.
She runs away from school and into the arms of Brad Pitt, who claims to be Brad Pitt’s body double. Brad promises her a way out: she and her brothers can join their movie production company.
Lisa’s cool with that (although suspicious). She wants to check out the movie set, but first, she has Brad drive her home so that she can pack some things.
Here we go . . .
GallimauFriday IV: spam spam spam spam Edition
Remember the Big Suit?
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My quarantine box gets email:
Licenced online pharmacy! Best prices
Ooh, look how they spell “licensed.” They must be Canadian.
Canadian Pharmacy
See? And I bet they sell a lot of
Penis Growth OilPenis Growth Oil is an all natural safe and effective male enhancement and penis enlargement madication.
Rub vigorously on your penis . . . guaranteed to make it larger.
Is this what passes for “controversial” these days?
Blasphemy? I think not.
Clicky clicky to see the full-sized bits.
The 20th Century had The Last Temptation and Piss Christ and probably a dozen other books, films, and works of art which surpassed the above image (an ad for a gym, apparently) in outrageousness. Good God, Jesus Dress-Up magnets are more controversial.
Even the non-Catholic leader of the Catholic League, professional curmudgeon and casual twit Bill Donohue, can’t work up much animus towards four nuns and a nude dude.
In any event, this patently stupid ad that Equinox is floating suggests that it must hype its edgy image in order to compete. That’s too bad—apparently their targeted demographic group isn’t lured by the prospect of more barbells and fruit bars. Hence, the need to rip off Catholic imagery in a sophomoric soft-porn ad.
Sophomoric? Meh. I see a poorly composed, overly stylized treatment of an unfocused concept. I fail to see even a filamentous logical connection to physical fitness. This might work as an ad for a men’s fragrance, but even then, I’d be unimpressed.
The other ads in this campaign aren’t much better. Sorry, Equinox — I’m underwhelmed.
D.
The Republican War on Christmas Trees
Why does Senator Mitch McConnell hate Christmas?
“A Christmas tree of legislative goodies that might not even get signed” by the president was how the stimulus bill was described by Sen. Mitch McConnell (R)
Yes, friends, the obstructionist Republicans have struck again, blocking passage of a $158 billion economic stimulus package. The package would have provided aid to senior citizens, veterans, and the unemployed — all bright shiny baubles the Republicans apparently want off their tree. (Or, to switch metaphors, the Republicans are yet again playing Mr. Wilson to the Democrats’ Dennis the Menace. Get off my lawn, kid!)
Senator Reid shares some of the blame, though, because he insisted on the 60-vote “supermajority” necessary to avoid a Republican filibuster.
If a Republican threatens filibuster, Reid cowers. If a Democrat threatens filibuster (as with Sen. Dodd and the FISA amnesty dispute), Reid makes the Senator go through with it. We might as well let Cheney run the Senate, since Reid’s leadership is nonexistent.
But I think it’s worth asking (metaphorically, if not literally): why do the Republicans hate Christmas Trees? You’ll hear Sen. McCain rail against ear marks and out-of-control spending — this is a Republican staple — but no tears are shed for the hemorrhage of young lives and wasted billions overseas. Apparently, we need a new austerity at home to fund our largesse abroad.
No post last night . . . I was home only two hours before the ER called me back. Not a good night.
D.
Escapist alligator brain candy
Being confused with the Son of God turned out to be the highlight of my day. What now? I could walk that fine line between (A) engaging my readers in an impassioned discussion of sensitive medical issues, and (B) violating patient confidentiality, or I could post this cool shot of Clive Owen from the movie, Shoot ‘Em Up.
I put Shoot ‘Em Up on my Netflix lineup when Darla raved about it and only got around to watching it Sunday night. Clive Owen plays Smith, Not His Real Name, which I suppose is a fine shading on the ol’ trope of the Man With No Name, because at least Smith HAS a Name, albeit a fake one. But it’s easy enough imagining Clint Eastwood or Charles Bronson in this role, except for the lovemaking. Naw, forget it. He’s Smith.
Blogroll Amnesty Day
Doug’s Blog Round-up
You remember how this works: for B.A.D., we’re supposed to shine a spotlight on less-trafficked (i.e., not “A List”) blogs that deserve more attention. Here’s the spotlight, folks.
Total Dick-Head was the first curious place I found earlier this week. English teacher David Gill writes one of the most focused single-topic blogs I’ve ever read: every last post is about SF author Philip K. Dick. Recent posts include some notes on the crossover between Lost and PKD’s Valis, a review of A Scanner Darkly, and a student essay comparing Deckard (Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?) and Meursault (Camus’s The Stranger). Gill’s review of Blade Runner: The Final Cut is great. Check it out for the Blade Runner lolcats link, if nothing else.
New B&W reader Raw Dawg Buffalo probably gets more traffic than me, but I thought I’d give him a shout-out anyway as one of the freshest new (new to me) voices I’ve heard in a long while. He’s not always political, but his two most recent posts cover Michelle Obama and calling-him-a-dickhead-insults-penises-everywhere Michael Savage. Check him out.
But I wouldn’t have found Qucifer if I hadn’t paid attention to RDB’s comment threads. I have a bad habit of checking cute women out based on their blogger thumbnail pix — hey, sometimes people DO post a bigger photo on their profile page. Consider it the 21st Century equivalent of gawking at passing strangers (and this shout-out is, I suppose, a 21st Century wolf whistle). Qucifer’s profile page led me to one of her blogs, “Sensual Sex From East Coast to Midwest” (linked on Q’s name, above), and oh boy, do I enjoy reading one woman lecture to other women on blow jobs. I learned a lot from her advice to guys, too. No, I’d never heard of the stupid-ass “pussy-patting” maneuver, but now I know not to bother. Q’s other blog is lots of fun, too. (Just not as much sex.)
I don’t know if Corn Dog gets more or less traffic than me, but who cares. She’s closed up her blog (temporarily, I hope) because her poor little dog Dinky has a tumor. I miss Corn Dog’s voice. Go give her some love.
Recent B&W commenter Tommy Korioth must have found me through Mauigirl, and good thing, too. Over at his blog, Basket of Puppies, he recently wrote a great essay on racism in Texas. Check it out. How can you resist a basket of puppies?
D.
Best tiramisu
I cut the pound cake into thinner slices, and that way I was able to have six layers instead of four. Since the slices were thinner, they soaked up more of the espresso mixture. Thus, there’s a higher volume of espresso per bite of tiramisu.
I can’t eat too much of this stuff, but it makes Karen happy.
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A dead blue whale washed up on South Beach in Crescent City. Since I will forever be the kid who turns dead animals over with a stick, I had to go see. (Nope. Couldn’t find a big enough stick.) This poor bastard had to have been forty or fifty feet long. Biologists from Humboldt State University came out and carved specimens from around the flipper, or whatever you call the structure that’s homologous to an arm.
It was freshly dead, not decomposed in the least, and yet the smell was viciously strong, the kind of thing that took up residence in your sinuses and made itself known for hours after. I’m wondering how deeply into town that smell will penetrate, especially when decomposition sets in — and most especially when the warm weather returns. Will it wash away? I hope so. If it doesn’t, it could take years to disappear.
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Today, I wrote nearly 3000 words and finished Chapter One. I think it flows pretty well. As I’ve said countless times, my number one writing rule is, “It has to entertain ME.” That way, I have an audience of one at the very least.
It’s a creepy feeling, knowing that my muse has something in mind and isn’t sharing with me, not in any conscious way. “Come on,” I want to say, “how can I start Chapter Two if I have no idea what’s going to happen after the first sentence?”
To which my muse responds, “Fuck you. You haven’t given me hardly any air for MONTHS. You expect a detailed outline?”
But I guess I’m not being entirely truthful. I know what has to happen (an alien abduction). The details, my muse keeps to herself.
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Live Blogging tonight . . . I’ll shoot for 7 PM PST, but I still have to go to the store, shop, come home, make dinner. See you soon.
D.