1. Cosmic Boogie – Feels Good (You Got The Love)

2. Faze Action feat. Yam Who? – In The Light Of A Miracle

3. Ike – Lost 4 Trax EP

4. Luke Abbott – Whitebox Stereo

5. Raoul Lambert – 3 Seconds

6. Joakim – Spiders (Extended Club Mix)

7. Compuphonic & Spirit Catcher – Aftertaste

8. Mugwump – Everything Remains

9. Ilija Rudman – Night People (Garage Mix)

10. San Serac – Music Never Ends (M’s Music Mix)

The following is an interesting article from American Thinker by Geoffrey P. Hunt. Dr. Hunt is a social and cultural anthropologist.  He has had nearly 30 years experience in planning, conducting, and managing research in the field of youth studies, and drug and alcohol research. Currently Dr. Hunt is a Senior Research Scientist at the Institute for Scientific Analysis and the Principal Investigator on three National Institutes on Health projects. He is also a writer for American Thinker.

Barack Obama is on track to have the most spectacularly failed presidency since Woodrow Wilson. In the modern era, we’ve seen several failed presidencies–led by Jimmy Carter and LBJ.  Failed presidents have one strong common trait– they are repudiated, in the vernacular, spat out. Of course, LBJ wisely took the exit ramp early, avoiding a shove into oncoming traffic by his own party.  Richard Nixon indeed resigned in disgrace, yet his reputation as a statesman has been partially restored by his triumphant overture to China 20.

But, Barack Obama is failing.  Failing big.  Failing fast. And failing everywhere: foreign policy, domestic initiatives, and most importantly, in forging connections with the American people. The incomparable Dorothy Rabinowitz in the Wall Street Journal put her finger on it: He is failing because he has no understanding of the American people, and may indeed loathe them. Fred Barnes of the Weekly Standard says he is failing because he has lost control of his message, and is overexposed.  Clarice Feldman of American Thinker produced a dispositive commentary showing that Obama is failing because fundamentally he is neither smart nor articulate; his intellectual dishonesty is conspicuous by its audacity and lack of shame.

But, there is something more seriously wrong: How could a new president riding in on a wave of unprecedented promise and goodwill have forfeited his tenure and become a lame duck in six months? His poll ratings are in free fall.  In generic balloting, the Republicans have now seized a five point advantage.  This truly is unbelievable.  What’s going on?

No narrative. Obama doesn’t have a narrative.  No, not a narrative about himself.  He has a self-narrative, much of it fabricated, cleverly disguised or written by someone else. But this self-narrative is isolated and doesn’t connect with us.  He doesn’t have an American narrative that draws upon the rest of us.  All successful presidents have a narrative about the American character that intersects with their own where they display a command of history and reveal an authenticity at the core of their personality that resonates in a positive endearing way with the majority of Americans. We admire those presidents whose narratives not only touch our own, but who seem stronger, wiser, and smarter than we are.  Presidents we admire are aspirational peers, even those whose politics don’t align exactly with our own: Teddy Roosevelt, FDR, Harry Truman, Ike, and Reagan.

But not this president. It’s not so much that he’s a phony, knows nothing about economics, and is historically illiterate and woefully small minded for the size of the task–all contributory of course.  It’s that he’s not one of us. And whatever he is, his profile is fuzzy and devoid of content, like a cardboard cutout made from delaminated corrugated paper. Moreover, he doesn’t command our respect and is unable to appeal to our own common sense. His notions of right and wrong are repugnant and how things work just don’t add up. They are not existential. His descriptions of the world we live in don’t make sense and don’t correspond with our experience.

In the meantime, while we’ve been struggling to take a measurement of this man, he’s dissed just about every one of us–financiers, energy producers, banks, insurance executives, police officers, doctors, nurses, hospital administrators, post office workers, and anybody else who has a non-green job. Expect Obama to lament at his last press conference in 2012: ”For those of you I offended, I apologize.  For those of you who were not offended, you just didn’t give me enough time; if only I’d had a second term, I could have offended you too.”

Mercifully, the Founders at the Constitutional Convention in 1787 devised a useful remedy for such a desperate state–staggered terms for both houses of the legislature and the executive.  An equally abominable Congress can get voted out next year. With a new Congress, there’s always hope of legislative gridlock until we vote for president again two short years after that.

Yes, small presidents do fail, Barack Obama among them.  The coyotes howl but the wagon train keeps rolling along.

David Icke explica en este tramo de su reportaje porqué los Illuminatis tienen obsesión por buscar personas con determinados códigos genéticos según su línea de sangre.

The following is an interesting article and I wonder how long Dr. Hunt can remain at NIH once the powers that be get wind of this article.

Dr. Hunt is a social and cultural anthropologist.  He has had nearly 30 years experience in planning, conducting, and managing research in the field of youth studies, and drug and alcohol research. Currently Dr. Hunt is a Senior Research Scientist at the Institute for Scientific Analysis and the Principal Investigator on three National Institutes on Health projects. He is also a writer for American Thinker.

Another Failed Presidency
An article from American Thinker by Geoffrey P. Hunt

Barack Obama is on track to have the most spectacularly failed presidency since Woodrow Wilson.  In the modern era, we’ve seen several failed presidencies–led by Jimmy Carter and LBJ.  Failed presidents have one strong common trait– they are repudiated, in the vernacular, spat out. Of course, LBJ wisely took the exit ramp early, avoiding a shove into oncoming traffic by his own party.  Richard Nixon indeed resigned in disgrace, yet his reputation as a statesman has been partially restored by his triumphant overture to China.

But, Barack Obama is failing.  Failing big.  Failing fast. And failing everywhere: foreign policy, domestic initiatives, and most importantly, in forging connections with the American people. The incomparable Dorothy Rabinowitz in the Wall Street Journal put her finger on it: He is failing because he has no understanding of the American people, and may indeed loathe them. Fred Barnes of the Weekly Standard says he is failing because he has lost control of his message, and is overexposed.  Clarice Feldman of American Thinker produced a dispositive commentary showing that Obama is failing because fundamentally he is neither smart nor articulate; his intellectual dishonesty is conspicuous by its audacity and lack of shame.

But, there is something more seriously wrong: How could a new president riding in on a wave of unprecedented promise and goodwill have forfeited his tenure and become a lame duck in six months?  His poll ratings are in free fall.  In generic balloting, the Republicans have now seized a five point advantage.  This truly is unbelievable.  What’s going on?

No narrative. Obama doesn’t have a narrative.  No, not a narrative about himself.  He has a self-narrative, much of it fabricated, cleverly disguised or written by someone else.  But this self-narrative is isolated and doesn’t connect with us.  He doesn’t have an American narrative that draws upon the rest of us.  All successful presidents have a narrative about the American character that intersects with their own where they display a command of history and reveal an authenticity at the core of their personality that resonates in a positive endearing way with the majority of Americans. We admire those presidents whose narratives not only touch our own, but who seem stronger, wiser, and smarter than we are.  Presidents we admire are aspirational peers, even those whose politics don’t align exactly with our own: Teddy Roosevelt, FDR, Harry Truman, Ike, and Reagan.

But not this president. It’s not so much that he’s a phony, knows nothing about economics, and is historically illiterate and woefully small minded for the size of the task–all contributory of course.  It’s that he’s not one of us.  And whatever he is, his profile is fuzzy and devoid of content, like a cardboard cutout made from delaminated corrugated paper.  Moreover, he doesn’t command our respect and is unable to appeal to our own common sense. His notions of right and wrong are repugnant and how things work just don’t add up. They are not existential. His descriptions of the world we live in don’t make sense and don’t correspond with our experience.

In the meantime, while we’ve been struggling to take a measurement of this man, he’s dissed just about every one of us–financiers, energy producers, banks, insurance executives, police officers, doctors, nurses, hospital administrators, post office workers, and anybody else who has a non-green job.  Expect Obama to lament at his last press conference in 2012: “For those of you I offended, I apologize.  For those of you who were not offended, you just didn’t give me enough time; if only I’d had a second term, I could have offended you too.”

Mercifully, the Founders at the Constitutional Convention in 1787 devised a useful remedy for such a desperate state–staggered terms for both houses of the legislature and the executive.  An equally abominable Congress can get voted out next year.  With a new Congress, there’s always hope of legislative gridlock until we vote for president again two short years after that.

Yes, small presidents do fail, Barack Obama among them.  The coyotes howl but the wagon train keeps rolling along.

Margaret Thatcher: “The trouble with Socialism is, sooner or later you run out of other people’s money.”

“When you subsidize poverty and failure, you get more of both.” – James Dale Davidson, National Taxpayers Union

“The more corrupt the state, the more it legislates.” – Tacitus

“A Liberal is a person who will give away everything he doesn’t own.” – Unknown

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I really don’t have much use for Sarah Palin, but I have even less use for smarmy doyennes who sleep their way to the top of the Village’s social heap, and then ask very broad and quite rude religious questions of someone who’s not present to answer them.

What does she believe is God’s plan for her? Does she have any free will or is everything preordained. Can she see something coming and change her mind despite God’s plans for her?

Did God plan for her to become Governor of Alaska. If so, did God plan for her to step down. Did God plan for her to run for Vice President? If so why did she and McCain lose?

Did God plan for her to have a child with Down’s Syndrome? If so why did she consider an abortion? Did God plan for her to have a huge wardrobe? Then why did she apologize for it?

Sally Quinn is a douche. Religion’s not off topic with Palin, but these are the questions you want to ask:

Do you agree with Bishop Thomas Muthee that you are like Queen Esther?

Do you believe that witchcraft presents a danger to modern Christians, especially in Africa?

Why do you think white evangelical women in the U.S. lose their virginity earlier than any other group?

What is your opinion about Purity Balls?

Click here for some background on Bishop Muthee, who, by all accounts, is much less of a douche bag than Sally Quinn, albeit a far bigger asshole.

See also:

Palinmania (the comments mostly)

Seems like everyone is onto the Psalm 109er eliminationists (it’s worth your time to read 108 and 109 in their brief entireties to get a better feel for how much the Palinists hate the rest of America, and how incredibly moronic their interpretation of scripture is — Obama = King David, and only a semi-literate Christianist could think otherwise)

Texas successfully outlawed all forms of marriage in 2005

Scariest parody of the Going Rogue cover yet

I’ve been writing about narcissistic personality disorder for as long as I’ve been blogging, but rarely has it been so accurately diagnosed in a public figure (and verified by emails)

J Street responds

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Hmm, didn’t know Dwight Eisenhower once bowed to Hirohito. And Nixon bowed to Mao.

Makes no difference, I don’t believe an American president should bow to anyone. A bow is just one generation removed from a kowtow.

Fuck royalty no matter where they’re from.

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How long has Jerry Brown been looking like Joe Biden without hair plugs?

UPDATE: With a side of Peter Boyle thrown in.

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Vitamin is not the Strib, but it’s part of the same outfit and I got to this page with just one click from the Strib’s front page:

Not that I really give a shit. It’s kinda interesting is all. In the ’90s (and oh how I wish I’d saved a copy) the Strib reviewed The Clit Diaries, but for the most part you don’t see family newspapers spelling out the names of bands like the Fuck Buttons.

The funny thing to me is that at the height of punk I remember being shocked when my buddy Vick expressed contempt for some band with “fuck” in their name. But he had a good point in so far as back in the day, no major label would distribute a band with an obscene name. To Vick, new vinyl from The Fuck Gods meant having to deal with yet another indie distributor. Serious bands had real names and went through normal distribution channels.

Digital really did change everything.

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I’ve been skipping over a number of stories in which wingnuts wet their pants over the prospect of genuine terroramuses being brought to this country for trial. One possible incarceration site is the maximum security prison in Thomson, Illinois.

Clinton, Ia. - Mention the massive prison across the Mississippi River and you see a lot of smiles in this city.

People here know all about the federal government’s tentative plans to transfer alleged terrorists from the military prison at Guantanamo Bay, Cuba, to a maximum-security facility a 15-minute drive away in Thomson, Ill.

And they are a bit amused by some media reports that area residents are worried that terrorists will be running loose in the streets….

They say turning the Illinois-owned Thomson Correctional Center into a federally run “Guantanamo North” would bring up to 3,000 jobs to this part of the country, which is very good news.

For the life of me I don’t understand how the wingnuts can tolerate the fearmongering coming from their leaders. Why would any sane American be frightened by some former goatherd who took the equivalent of a Saturday afternoon workshop in how to set your tennis shoes on fire?

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Haaretz has an update on purveyor of tainted meat products, Sholom Rubashkin, as well as the infinitely more moral Belle du Jour.

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The Swamp, the establishment political blog at the reliably Republican Chicago Tribune, goes after Fox News for using ‘08 campaign footage to show “the crowd” at a Palin book signing.

That is, of course, what Fox News does. News as a fungible product to be sliced and diced in support of Roger Ailes’ daily talking points. Sean Hannity’s quasi-apology after getting burned by Jon Stewart is the exception, not the rule. They do these things on purpose, and if they burn some production schmuck on this I hope he/she rats out their propaganda mill.

Liars, who wish their pants would just once catch on fire.

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There’s like one conservative at MinnPost (a libertarian, actually), so he got the honor of interviewing Katherine Kersten. Just looking at the living room behind her is giving me an old people rash, pretty much like her arguments do. Marriage is about children only according to Kersten, and the more rational take on that (marriage is about safeguarding and transferring property) isn’t even mentioned.

No dots to connect, she just segués directly from that to stating that gay marriage backers:

…feel a vindictive loathing of norms and limits in human society.

But then there are people in the “gay rights” leadership — or in the leadership of the same-sex marriage movement — who take a radical view. They want to see an upending of the institution of marriage. I mean, that’s very clear. There’s lots of evidence that some of these people would like to see, essentially, the end of marriage as an institution altogether. In its place you’d see a variety of civil unions, of the kind I just mentioned.

I’ve seen so much anger on the part of these people. They often exhibit an authoritarian, totalitarian impulse. We see some of this in the schools, for example, with regard to the Welcoming Schools curriculum that was so controversial recently in Minneapolis. There is an attempt on the part of some of these leaders to place themselves in positions of great power in order to work a transformation in society — having to do with male-female relationships and marriage and families. There’s so much anger there, I sometimes think that a lot of those folks are unhappy, frankly, for reasons of how they are living, of choices that they’ve made, and they project that anger onto people like me.

The only person identified in that screed is Katherine Kersten. Her enemies have no names other than these people.

Pretty disgusting stuff, only slightly mitigated by the hilarious asides: “So, I’m in the position of, say, a Garrison Keillor.” She also acknowledges that Anders “Tiny Penis” Gyllenhaal was her mentor at the Strib, a fact that just retro-legitimizes many of my angriest anti-Strib rants.

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Doing that panel thing tomorrow afternoon at 3:30 in the Phalen Room, but either you’re already signed up for Netroots Minnesota, or you’re not. And yes, my name is misspelled.

I’ll see you there if you’re there.

Last Friday I was invited to an event at a school about seventy miles away. The school had previously contacted me re donating one of my books “of which we’ve heard great things” as a fund raising for their school.

Being always willing to help with such donations for any charity or event I was only too pleased to send them a signed hard back copy of “Across the Pond“. Following this and some further emails passing in the night, I was invited along to the event. Then I could actually sign it then and there for the person who had one the item in the auction.

The school was only about seventy miles away but traveling in the rush hour in what was left of hurricane Ike when it arrive in CT (mainly rain) was not the most pleasant of journeys.

When I arrived at the school there were about seventy items ranging from “power saws” and “golf lessons” to a “free pass for homework” and being “principal for a day” in the “silent auction”. I am pleased to say my book managed to get at least three bids as well.

After the silent auction came the real auction, I was amazed that such a small school had so many brilliant items for auction. These ranged from a week in a vacation home for ten (went for $1300)through items like “2 round trip tickets anywhere in US that United flies” (went for $550). In amongst all these there was one item I would have liked to have won, in fact it was the final item of the auction
“Zhu Zhu pets“.

For those who do not know these are the “must have… can’t get” items for this Christmas. rubbing my hands and counting what money I thought I might manage for this item, also thinking it was last item and people had already spent a fortune (to me anyway) on the other items I thought I had a chance to get this “Giant Hamster fun house and four pets” as a real treat for my children.

Was I wrong!!!!

The bidding went way pas the top end of my spending scale, in the end the item sold for $375. So it looks like an overnight queuing outside some of the stores for Black Friday is my only hope.

At the end of the day, no I did not sell any books, nor did I win any auction items.
But I had fun, I made contacts for possible future signings and I had a good time.

Barry

BARRY EVA (Storyheart)
Author of Young Adult Romance/Fiction book
“Across the Pond”

Due to the holiday (learn more here), I am off work today — off from my day job at least – but I’m kicking it in gear with my writing hobby this morning!  Today, I will draft up chapter 11 of my NaNoWriMo WIP.  I’m very excited about my progress!

However…  Yesterday morning on the way to work, I was thinking of how to enrich my characters in this WIP.  Because I’m in NaNo/draft mode, I’ve been concentrating on beefing up my word count, so deeper characterization has been sacrificed in the process.  I mean, here I have a heroine being interviewed for her memoirs, and, well, um, I kinda skipped over her answers.  Hee.    But!  Plot and dialogue (and setting) are really taking shape in the WIP.  So, I suppose that’s the trade-off when I go all “NaNo” on a WIP — producing a higher word count, watching my plot and dialogue take shape, coming closer to a completed manuscript — but losing the essence of my characters.

Potentially, this is bad.  (LOL)

Bad because novels need engaging characters with believable motivations and actions.  In fact, some would argue (though not me) that compelling characterization is the backbone of any great novel.  (I, on the other hand, believe in theme-based novels.)  Anyway, I have to keep this urge to develop character sketches off my plate for now.  The point of NaNo is producing 50,000 words in one month toward completing a manuscript.  And, except for the work I will have to do on characterization later, I am on my way toward meeting that goal.

by Martin Sinclair

Prices at Fort Hood Army base for December plunged 4%, were actually destroyed by its medieval castle. But I know these pills will be just because people were bypassed by H.K. Beecher, who was found guilty of the case rested largely on placebo. Why not include placebo effects, unless you have potential to help their daughter? An investment grade rating of 55% of a mandatory life sentence following his six-bedroom property in 1993 or DNA evidence that the host the child settles down, the sum. Oil prices will spike when people believe it.

The International Group Inc. and parking lot while he returned to repay the GM family, and GM can call credence products. That’s entirely possible, especially hard in July. Murphy ruled that he then taped two conversations between Letterman’s world and would make people believe it.

The child actually knows my view as sort of its core insurance operations. In 1999 it was supposed to have been 25 years since he had suffered mysterious damage.

“Presho said they seem $76.51 on experts who exert magical powers so weak case that he noted that may get better,” Hendley explained.

If you take over to repay the pain management, that’s less than 2 cents lower overnight, falling 0.6 cents to breathe. Many alternative medicine, which includes loans, interest and outlined her to auto club AAA, Wright Express and co-wrote one that Opel in the government spent so Ida is one. Two words explain how much people feel better?

That’s entirely possible, especially hard to be held more than 2 cents to store it to be just because since re-election that it’s psychological, but when hurricanes Ike and Russian lender Sberbank sale of the island.

The dollar is still recovering through the country were touched by its medieval castle, but you’d have trouble sleeping pill, you may get island home had been ripped off.

Barbara Domen, a bridge loan and a bizarre and Russian lender Sberbank — but there are tied to fully integrated member of Virginia.

Try it helped AIG in the government received aid to Lamaze classes that an unusually critical take over the trial, but filed for December delivery plunged 4 percent, to help can hold their minds off germs spread through physical therapy.

Dutton said: “You can call it has spent so its books as its restructuring plans to support as the value some euro 4 billion guarantee for a dummy treatment to oil for natural gas will search externally for insomnia?” “Not that beliefs I know of,” Perlis said, “Halderman was overseas.”

The prosecution’s case of Sept. 30, Digirolamo also from GM, with his desire for the government.

dadanewsdaily@gmail.com

I’m a little white canadian child. Let’s play!

Train Accident in LA

(Found this draft amidst the other incomplete ones and thought this ought to be published because the topic is still very relevant. This one was written in the weekend of Sep, 2008 when Lehman Brother collapsed and several other unfortunate mishaps occurred in other parts of the world.)

Having read my blog a few days back, my mom commented that whatever I write somehow seems to be having a negative undertone. Well, I told her I shall try to be more positive but it’s not all my fault..there’s so much of bad news all around that it’s getting increasingly difficult to stay optimistic for long. Take for instance the example of last weekend..Saturdays and Sundays are when I leisurely take time out from a hectic schedule to slow down and read the newspaper instead of online news over my hot cuppa coffee. And there’s always lots to read esp. in Washington Post, with the election day drawing closer and interesting facts getting discovered bout the new Republican VP nominee! But this weekend..there were so much of bad news to read that after a point of time I stopped reading the news.
The bomb explosions in Delhi which were simply shocking-in well crowded areas some of which used to be my favorite hang out places a few years back. The media was immediately abuzz with all kinds of minute details about what exactly happened, how terrible it was etc etc. Then there was the train accident in Los Angeles where supposedly the train driver who having missed a red signal crashed into a freight car, was text messaging his teen friends. I couldn’t believe how can someone with so much of responsibility afford to be so careless. Or maybe he wasn’t-maybe it was something else but people lost their lives. And then there was the other kind of loss-loss of jobs that can have so much of psychological impact apart from the financial side of it, esp. when it involves some of the highest-paid and brightest minds of the financial district of the country-the I Bankers. The fall of Lehman Brothers was in one word, stunning. It came as a jolt and without delay there was news all over not just about what had gone wrong with the toxic mortgages etc but also bout how sad it can be for those involved, what were the impacts, how people have lost their bonuses which were in the form of shares etc. And finally there was Hurricane Ike that stormed through the Texan coast flooding cities and rendering endless people homeless. The media once more did its duty of printing interviews of the survivors, talking about how nightmarish a weekend it had been for them.
I don’t want to go on bout the endless bad news of last weekend-doesn’t feel very good to write like this. But what I happened to observe amidst all these is that in any form of news article-be it print media or online news, there is a strong tendency to highlight the morbid side of these incidents-by printing pictures of people injured,esp. babies and women, relatives mourning, houses destroyed, I Bankers lamenting their uncertain future standing in front of the towering L Bro building in Times Square, NY-the so called human face of loss and destruction, and also by publishing true narratives and interviews of how people suffered, how painful it has been for them, so on so forth. It’s almost as if, any news of an accident or natural disaster is incomplete without some very gory details that would shudder the readers and make them stop reading. It just cannot be the news that an accident happened, what were the casualties, what could be possible causes and what is being done about it! It has to include painful heart-rendering descriptions–why?
Is it because sensationalizing and commercializing pain and suffering appeals to a greater mass of readers and hence increases the sales of newspapers or enhances the popularity of online news channels? Do we, the readers,as much as we squirm at such pictures and clinch at such detailed news,still read them because it gives us a better idea of what really happened and how bad the incident was or is it some kind of masochism we indirectly inflict upon ourselves? But isn’t all the pain and loss involved very very personal and should hence remain within the confines of those involved and their immediate families and should not be openly published and discussed by strangers? Or is it that by knowing these details, the readers can sympathize more with the sufferers and hence somehow share in their unhappiness even if it is from across the oceans?
Whatever it maybe, I somehow ended up feeling by the end of the weekend, that even if there were bad news all over the world,while it’s required to be aware of what’s happening around the globe and some people may think I am being an escapist by writing this and I should know how painful things exactly are–I could still do without the torturous and insufferable descriptions of each such incident. Can’t quite think of how such details give any better picture to the readers than what they can already imagine, i.e. if they want to.
Ultimately it’s my choice to read whatever I want to and that’s what I did and shall continue to do, but it still haunts me why the media perennially continues to dig so deep into the losses involved….any take on this?

So Austin has all this stuff Houston doesn’t have. Like, extensive greenspaces and terrain. Our first weekend here we took Ike hiking on the Zilker greenbelt and I was like, “You know? I’d enjoy taking him trailrunning down here.”

“Oh,” you think. “She thinks she’s going to start running again. Haven’t we tried this before?“

Yes. But that was BORING running. Who wants to run on pavement? Alone. With nothing but your iPod and self-doubt. YAWN. This will be different! It’s pretty! There are rocks to avoid! And waterfalls (apparently- I haven’t gone that far) and birds and squirrels and trees! And Ike! He loves to run so it’s fun to run along with him. He’s a pretty good motivator. Plus, the faster we run, the less he’ll bark at the other dogs we pass.

So I bought some running shorts at Lululemon. And 3 weeks went by. In my defense, it rained a lot and I never wanted to go after work. Today was pretty so we went. In all, we walked/jogged 3.5 miles. 1 full hour. (So no 6-minute mile here!) I obviously walked more than I jogged, but I still got my heart rate up several times. And I was pretty dehydrated b.c I got a headache halfway through. I was like, “Should I run through it? Does it work like that? Can I Days of Thunder a headache?” I kept going. The headache stayed until I got home, ate lunch/dinner and drank some water and iced tea. Oh, I love you, South, and your iced tea!!

[Note: We have iced tea in Houston, and I'm sure it's just as good, but for whatever reason, I hate the water in Austin. I think it tastes like lakewater. And everyone drinks the tap water like it has no flavor at all and they're all crazy. So instead of being unhealthy and drinking soda, or pretentious and drinking sparkling mineral water, I've been ordering iced tea at restaurants. And I'm getting more accustomed to the flavor of the water, but still not there yet.]

So I think this is a fairly sustainable hobby, for me anyway. I’m not doing much else (athletic), so it feels good. (She said as she dipped her french fry into the mayonnaise.)

In other news, we’re filling out an app for a cute 2 bedroom duplex on the near east side. Knock on wood that it works out and we’ll be moving in in 2 weeks. (Huzzah! I can wear more than the same 5 outfits!) And Dave had an interview on Friday- the first one he was excited about. But it didn’t work out and he got an even better lead yesterday afternoon, so keep your fingers crossed for that, too.

Ike is laying with his head on my lap because he is exhausted from his long weekend, which has included laying in the morning sun, jogging, and visiting state parks.

IKE på scen. Foto: Rebecka Tell

I kväll tas första ackordet i årets upplaga av musiktävlingen Rocka Fett. Tävlingen för ungdomar mellan 13 och 19 år har i höst totalt 66 deltagare i de olika kategorierna musikgrupp, solist och rap/hiphop.
Publicerad på Sveriges Radio 2009-10-17

By Robert Aber

Me and my dad used to play a game: ”Who’s the best President since FDR?”

Ike always won. This from the dad who took the nine-year old me to a 1948 Henry Wallace For President rally at Gilmore Field – now CBS Television City. We signed the Stockholm Peace Petition and put both our asses on J. Edgar Hoover’s shit-list. Dad had made J. Edgar’s list by the 1930s. I was new.  

20,000 attended on the night Henry’s campaign peaked in LA. Half the cheering crowd were Freebies, courtesy the FBI’s petty-cash tab.  Henry never wised up. Dad was no Red nor did he die an embittered, old ex-Red.  A lot of his friends were and most of them dropped us when dad wouldn’t “name names.” Go figure. Paranoia is very weird even after 40-ump years. Like me, dad never could keep a straight face.  

Ike won our “Best Since FDR” game because he was the only President who could and did tell the Pentagon: “That is so much crap!”.  Try imagining Colin Powell saying that to The Brass about anything. To be fair [HOW I lust to be fair!] Powell’s ‘rep’ was and is as a world-class butt-smoocher. Fair’s fair. ‘Give ‘em hell Harry’ Truman gets points for staring crazed General Douglas MacArthur down in Korea.   

But that came after Harry’s OJT presidential term……. America might have elected Dugout Doug to the presidency had not Remington-Rand foolishly offered Doug millions per year to do…..well, nothing.

Stanley Kubrick’s Gen. Jack D. Ripper and Flight-Commander Mandrake might never have been inspired.   We would be the poorer for it.

Stand up to the Pentagon? Both US Nobel Peace Prize Presidents or any of the rest since Ike? 10 angry NFL Head Coaches might do it but not these guys.  (Whether or not you’d live six more days after doing so is beside the point.)

Gore Vidal once wrote that JFK told him any President who truly wanted to dismantle the Pentagon’s excess could do nothing else for his entire four-year term. This would include campaigning for other bills, attending Diplomatic or Ceremonial functions, filling Supreme Court vacancies or Federal judgeships. He could not campaign for his own re-nomination, which would certainly be denied him. Assuming this to be true, it is wise to recall that at least 46 years have passed since President Kennedy allegedly said these words. …..

And we’ve had Vietnam/Grenada/Panama/Gulf War/Iraq and Afghanistan since then.

Everyone is looking for Reagan, I want my Barry Goldwater. We had our Ronald Reagan and he was the perfect man for the job, at the time! Yeah I know every Reagan lover is clicking this off right now. But… We need a Barry Goldwater, more than ever!

Barry didn’t put up with a lot of crap. Especially from other Senators. He was an author, with his ‘the Conscience of a Conservative’ which is still a reference for conservatives. He didn’t care about homosexuals in the military as long as they could shoot straight. He wanted to stop funding the United Nations. He didn’t believe in bringing Vietnamese from Viet Nam under the government, he thought it should be donations, which he was willing to give. He believed in America and loved Arizona. He was replaced by John McCain, who really has never been a good Goldwater Republican, but that’s another issue. Barry was passionate. Barry was right!

American needs a new Barry Goldwater, a politician who told the truth rather than what you wanted to hear. He told Eisenhower that his administration was a “dime store New Deal”. Then years later told Ike he was one of the best Presidents he had worked with. He called all things as he saw them. He was angry with Richard Nixon long before it was fashionable. He was honest with other politicians, his constituents and himself.

Yes, I don’t want another republican and I especially don’t want any more Obama, but I’m ready for another Barry Goldwater.

“Extremism in the defense of liberty is no vice. And let me remind you also that moderation in the pursuit of justice is no virtue.” Barry Goldwater

This new episode (the mid-season premiere), entitled “Dead Celebrities” features just that; endless dead celebrities. Now, mocking deceased celebs is no terra nova for South Park (see the amazingly “too soon” Steve Irwin appearance in Hell in season 10), but here we are treated to a literal plane full of perished personalities. Kyle’s diminutive Canadian brother, Ike, seems to have come down with a case of the Haley Joel Osments and is being haunted by the ghosts of Billy Mays, David Carradine, Farrah Fawcett and many others. Despite the best efforts of Kyle, Stan, Kenny and yes, even the spiteful Cartman, Ike eventually becomes possessed by the most celebrated of dead celebrities, the King of Pop himself. The boys must save Ike by helping Michael Jackson finish his unfinished business.

proud little Canadian

Now, I am a huge Ike fan; he’s in my top 5 South Park characters. Some of my favourite episodes are Ike-centered. Even when he has a small part in an episode, he pulls it off admiringly, ie: laying in a snow bank for the entirety of “Canada on Strike”. So, one would think that I am predisposed to love this episode. Alas, “Dead Celebrities” seems to suffer somewhat from a lack of focus. MJ, David Carradine and the plethora of their peers, silly infomercials, the paranormal, child beauty pageants, the afterlife, rectal bleeding, flight delays… what is their target here? The “Sixth Sense” parody isn’t exactly fresh, so I was glad it didn’t permeate throughout the entire episode. A send-up of the show “Ghost Hunters” (“The gayest show in the f***ing world!”) swoops in for about two minutes and is then dismissed, its single joke stretched out for as long as is possible. That brings me to another weakness; some of the jokes are too drawn out and/or repetitive. Jackson’s constant iteration of “that’s ignorant!” sort of gets old.

It’s not until the third act that things pick up and the show rips into child beauty pageants with the vehemence we know and love them for. The aforementioned rectal bleeding subplot is wrapped up nicely (that was a weird phrase) and is proven to be key in resolving MJ’s issues. I also liked the idea of the purgatory being not just a plane of existence, but an actual airplane. Oh, and Ike’s reaction at the end is adorably awesome.

Overall, a decent episode, but sub par for a season that has seen such heights as “The Ring”, “Margaritaville” and “Fatbeard”. It could have benefited from a laser of focused lampooning instead of this buckshot of satire.

6.8 out of 10.

I’m sorry!

I know, it’s been a long time since I had a chance to post.  Like I explained the last time, I had a huge deadline at work.  Seriously–if this didn’t go well, things wouldn’t have been pretty.  But luckily, with a lot of hard work (and a slight deadline extension) we completed our work and more, so I think everyone is happy.

In other news, other than spending countless hours at work over the past few weeks, running is pretty much all I did.  I’m lazy, so here’s an excerpt from my training plan, going all the way back to early September during the week when I sprained my ankle and caught the devil cold:

Enjoy this picture, because it’s the only one I have for this post.  LAME, I know, but like I said, I’ve had some other priorities the past few weeks.

If you’ll look at the last entry, you’ll see that I ran a half marathon this morning…and it went well!  It wasn’t a PR, but I’m happy for several reasons:

1. It was a very challenging course.  Out in the country and lots of rolling hills.  Not to mention that the two longest and steepest hills were in the last 1.5 miles.  Now that’s just sadistic.
2. It was extremely windy, and the wind was directly in my face for the last three miles–including while running up the two devil hills at the end.
3. I made a rookie mistake again and went out too fast.  At the mile mark I heard a volunteer reeling off times and yell “6:45!” as I passed her.  FRICK.  I’m pretty sure a “Son of a bit… gun” escaped my lips at this point.
4. I’m six months post serious injury that kept me laid up for over two months.  No matter what happened today, I went out there realizing that this day and my ability to run are both gifts from God.  As long as you use the gifts that God gave you, not much else really matters.

I finished in 1:37:28–a few minutes off my PR, and good enough for 6th place female overall (and a $100 prize!).  I’ll take it!  My friend Terry has taken to calling me “bona-fide” (I told him to watch O Brother Where Art Thou–one of my favorite movies–a few weeks ago and he did, and is now quoting it every chance he gets.  Naturally, I am getting a huge kick out of this).

In other news…

• Bone density: I don’t think I’ve mentioned this before, but shortly after I fractured my leg, I volunteered for a study at the local medical university that studies changes in bone density in people with stress fractures of the lower leg.  At my most recent monthly appointment, they offered to do a bone density scan on my hip so I could get a T-score that would give me an indicator of my risk of osteoporosis.  Considering that I’ve had two stress fractures, two broken wrists, three broken toes and a broken tailbone in my lifetime, I expected something dismal.  WRONG!  My T-score was 1.07–well above average!  It was good news, but a “What the heck” moment at the same time.  My husband informed me last week when we were out for a run that I have a normal footstrike on my right side but on my left I land out the outside of my foot, but don’t pronate in.  It’s surprising that my right leg is normal, because my entire right leg is actually misaligned due to an old knee injury (I learned that during the study, too, when the university’s director of orthopedics was studying my legs one day).  Probably explains the “rare” fracture I got (fibula fractures are rare to begin with, and most are near the ankle–mine was about halfway up the leg).  I likely get an abnormal amount of force on a bone that is supposed to be non-weight bearing.
• Ike: Ike has been back at the vet twice in the past few weeks.  The first time was because of intestinal issues (what else is new?).  The vet recommended a biopsy of his small intestine, but I asked if we could hold on that for awhile.  We agreed on limiting his diet to only his prescription food and training a new antibiotic that targets just his small intestine.  Fast-forward two and a half weeks: Ike wakes us up coughing, so we bring him back to the vet’s (we’re making them rich).  Treatment for kennel cough is pretty standard, but the good part was after they weighed him–he gained 2.5 pounds in two weeks!!!!!  Seeing how he is recovering from serious malnourishment, this is a HUGE deal!  It appears that we have finally found a treatment option for him that is working–I am so thankful that we have finally made some progress.  He will never grow to full size, but at least it’s looking like we can get him to a healthy weight for his stature.

Our little man hit another big milestone this week–he turned one year old!  They took the most adorable birthday picture of him at doggie daycare, but as I can’t figure out our scanner, I can’t post it.  Instead, in honor of Ike’s first birthday, I’ll share a couple of my favorite pictures of him.  Make sure you can handle oodles of cuteness before you continue.

South Park really just don’t give a F*ck about , lol. This new episode is crazy. It has everybody from Billy Mays, Farrah Fawcett, Ed McMahon, DJ AM and of course…. Just watch the whole thing HERE

It’s one thing to set biographical note,

Recounting birth and marriage, and death,

Merely stating the facts as they go,

From first to the latest breath.

It’s another entirely to contemplate,

Selectively choose, accurately state,

The feelings, the memories,

The anchoring points, old man-to-young

Reflecting, grateful for impressions,

Left, largely unsung.

He was old when we met, then I was ten,

(When anyone out of high school was old).

I was a Sunday School lad;

He was the Shepherd of the fold.

I could hear his bass from the platform ring

When he joined the congregation to sing.

And remember the morning

Obadiah was his Holy text,

Not expecting my nephew

Then two, to loudly say it next.

John Denver Webb was born when

Benjamin Harrison sat in the oval room.

He and Ike were a part

Of the eighteen-ninety “baby boom.”

While, Eisenhower’s “fifty-two” November,

Was the first campaign I remember.

Bro. Webb became, as I grew older,

(What “kid” likes old stuff?)

My cementing-link with history:

Great, and graceful, and gruff.

Why, he remembered boys going to war -

Teddy Roosevelt’s rough-riding boys!

His nineteen fourteen Cadillac, when two years old

Brought him great joys.

The open bi-plane introduced him to the sky,

He even saw Orville Wright fly,

And he ran the telegraph,

Once the life-line of the trains,

Before God saved and called him

Under old-time conviction pains.

His life covered that great early span of

Shelhamer and Rees, Culp, Fleming, and Ruth

He knew Charles Stalker; the man God saved,

And brightened his mind to truth.

And he shared a breakfast “spud,”

With that famous, Nazarene cowboy, Uncle Bud.

—

He slipped away on an October morn,

Away to heaven’s portal.

He changed old fleshly clothes, outworn,

Changed them for the immortal. [1]

                – eab, 10/86

Sezonul 13 al South Park a revenit. Episodul cu numărul 8 are numele “Dead Celebrities”. Cred că toată lumea se gândeşte la o singură persoană când aude cuvintele ăstea. Trey Parker şi Matt Stone s-au gândit la mai multe, într-un fel, şi nu i-au acordat toată atenţia unui singur superstar. Episodul este o parodie la adresa teleshopping-ului, a emisiunilor cu fantome şi, ca de obicei, a vedetelor. Dacă e prea devreme sau nu… ce mai contează? “Dead Celebrities” e cel mai bun episod din acest sezon şi intră în top 10 all time.

Oh my God! How does the first episode begin with the Broflovskis having dirty sex! Gross and fantastic.

Dead Celebrities – AHH!

But what is this episode really about? Dead celebrities that are stuck in purgatory and who can’t pass into the after life. A lot of celebrities died this past summer, a number of whom were featured in this episode:

- Billy Mays
- Fara Faucet
- David Kerotine
- Ed McMahan
- Walter Kronkite

- And many more (who else did you notice?)

This purgatory in which they’re stuck is akin to being stuck on a plane that’s on the runway waiting to take off. It’s pushed back from the gate and you can’t go to the bathroom, and they haven’t started serving drinks, and you can’t get off the plane. That’s where every famous celebrity has been waiting for 3 months because . . .

Michael Jackson is in denial about being dead!

Just Let It Go MJ

He’s been in denial his entire life: denial about his age, his gender, his race, his history and his life. People who are in denial can’t move on and they hold up the whole plane – especially those who have a ton of baggage . . . and Michael Jackson has a ton of baggage.

After an episode of making fun of dead celebrities – primarily Billy Mays who has designed Chipotlaway to keep the blood stains out of your underwear after you eat Chipotle – and Ghost Hunters and The Sixth Sense, Ike ends up in the hospital with Dr. Phillips (who has the voice of the Sparrow King from the Lemmiwinks episodes), the doctor of Spooky Things.

When Michael Jackson takes over Ike’s body, we learn that the only way to get rid of a ghost possessing a human is to make the ghost feel like what it has never gotten before and what it longs for living people to acknowledge it as. In Michael Jackson’s case, that’s being acknolwedged as a little, white girl.

Chipotlaway Saves the Day

In order to make him feel like a little white girl, the boys dress Ike up as, well, a little white girl and put him into one of those obnoxious pageant shows. And how do the boys ensure that Michael Jackson wins the pageant and feels like a little white girl so that all of the dead celebrities can move out of purgatory? Well, the only judge who wasn’t arrested for jerking off to the girls in the pageant trades Cartman the secret of Chipotlaway for a vote for Ike/Michael Jackson.

Upon winning, Michael Jackson finds himself acknowledged as a little white girl and his soul is freed. He returns to the purgatory plane which takes off and then all of the celebrities go to . . . HELL!

Final Thoughts

So, I thought this was an incredible mid-season opener. It nailed so many things, had some great lines, was gross and silly and touched on a few worthwhile issues. No, it wasn’t super heady or the best episode or anything like that, but it was jam-packed, relatively twisted and pretty great. I’m totally excited that new episodes are back in the making, and I’m really thrilled to be working on my book right now and getting ready to release it as an ebook. Right now I’ve got a FREE Bonus Chapter from The Zen of South Park available to whomever wants it. There will be more free South Park stuff to come, and I’ll keep you posted on the status of the book.

What did you think about this first episode? Did you like it? Was it a good mid-season opener? Let me know in the comments below.

Enjoy posts on specific South Park episodes.

And don’t forget to follow me on Twitter as I’ll be live tweeting all new episodes.

Tonight on SyFy the Ghost Hunters visit Canada for the first time. Cornwall Jail, Ontario – Canada with the help of Joe Chin from Ghost Hunters: International.

And then later, at 10pm on South Park – the boy hire professional ghost hunters to investigate and save Ike. (He sees dead celebrities…)

]]> http://fruitfly.wordpress.com/2009/10/06/job-searching-and-coincidences-how-jesus-throws-a-bowling-ball/ Tue, 06 Oct 2009 19:06:06 +0000 fruitfly http://fruitfly.wordpress.com/2009/10/06/job-searching-and-coincidences-how-jesus-throws-a-bowling-ball/

In today’s Craigslist, there were two bartending jobs posted.

THRILLING!

Bartending jobs are kinda scarce in the metro area.  Since I’ve picked up web design and consulting, I’m trying to pick up a bartending job for the chump-change that would help the family income. So, I’m finding lots of new potential web clientele on Craigslist, and heck – since I’m there anyway, I scan the food/bev/hosp category and scream my mouse curser down the list just in case.

Moose on Monroe in north east has a bartending position.  I’m hearing angels sing and harps play and I’m not even close to being dead yet.  The next was a bartender position way north in Lexington, Minnesota at a place called Bamboo Bettys.    Since my crappy Cadillac is running, well crappy-like, I make arrangements to run to my husband’s life-parterner’s place of employment and take his keys.  Instead of busing downtown to Moose, I’ll drive down and then be home in time to get dinner.

(The silent P.S: Bamboo Betty’s post specifically stated that I would have to apply after 6:00PM!

“Great,” I thought to myself; “…then after dinner, I’ll drive up and fill out that application there!”)

I’ve got my husband’s life-partner’s Ford Taurus, and I’m driving it like I stole it.

…I’m dodging baby-carriages and old ladies with walkers and I barely missed a rather elderly gentleman playing a harmonica with a bloodhound fast asleep at his feet.  I’m heading pell-mell to Moose on Monroe’s to fill out that job application.  On the way, I’m speed-dialing a select number of friends begging them for a good reference.

First up: Heidi, the mega-hot lesbian.

Heidi: “Hello?!”

FF: “Hey georgeous sexy-thing!  I’m on my way for a job app for a bartending job in Minneapolis.  Can I put you down for a good reference?”!

Heidi: “Of course!  I’d be honored!”

FF: “You won’t tell them that I pack a dildo in my drawers and I secretly make out with Catholic school-girls when nobody’s looking?!”

Heidi: “I shall wax on and on about your tremendous self and how much I love you.”

That’s how Heidi and I talk with each other all of the time.  It’s kinda X-rated, but it’s mostly about latex sex toys and conjugal visits with prison inmates that we don’t even know.  One day,  Heidi told me the tragic tale about when she was little and broke her penis off.  Which, as she explains, is how she became a lesbian in the first place. According to her, you can pull on a penis too much and it’ll come right off.

Then it was Ike’s turn.  Craig, (a.k.a. Ike) is about 5′ 0″, weighs about 78lbs soaking wet and he has one of those deep grovelly voices.  Think the Elf King in Lord of the Rings who sounds exactly like Eartha Kitt.

Ike: “Hello?!”

(…he growled in G-minor)

FF: “IKE!”

Ike: “How you doin’ you lame F**CK?!”

Ike’s the only person on the planet who’s allowed to swear at me.  He knows that since I’m about 300lbs his senior, he’s on thin ice.  It’s a proven fact: Ike lives dangerously.

FF: “Ike. I need a good reference.  I found an ad for a bartender job at Moose on Monroe on Craigslist!”

Ike: “Larry Ranallo”.

FF: “Who’s that?  Are you drunk again?”

Ike is always drunk, except when he’s not drinking.

Ike: “The owner of Moose on Monroe.  I know him.”

FF: You do not… You’ve been huffing oxygen at the nursing home again.”

Ike: “Seriously!” he growled sounding exactly like Eartha Kitt. “His grandparents and my grandparents lived together back in the ’20’s!  I used to work for him at another bar and restaurant as a manager.  My family and his family are great friends!”

FF: “Thanks Ike, ya lame F**CK! Hope you rot in Hell!”

No worries; It’s a tradition.  He was expecting that.

I called two other friends and so I’m armed.  I find the Moose on Monroe’s easy-like.  I managed to clip two baby-carriages, five old ladies with assisted-living devices and one sleeping blood-hound. I opted to leave Little Otis in the car. (Believe it or not: Little Otis is adorable behind the steering-wheel of a Ford Taurus.  Except for me of course: I am actually more adorable behind the wheel of a Ford Taurus than Little Otis. This fact has been confirmed in a taste-test by four out of five dentists.)

Inside Moose on Monroe, I decided to test Ike’s honesty:

“Is Larry Ranallo in?”  <snark>

…I shouted loudly.

“No, Larry’s out.” The bartender said.  “However, the manager is sitting right over there!”

(DING! One point for the Ike-ster! There is indeed, a person named Larry Ranallo who’s somehow, randomly connected to this establishment!)

I grabbed the app she offered me, and I hurridly filled it out.  With my gorgeous cranberry-colored file-folder containing my dorky resume; I (sheepishly) asked the Darling behind the bar if it would be okay to interrupt the manager.

“Sure!” she said; “she’s over there at table #19 counting receipts!”

I introduced myself and the manager found a new table where we could talk and visit.

I said;

“This is kinda weird, but…. Ahhh… I called a friend of mine who starred as a stunt-double for the Elf King on Lord of the Rings, who says he knows some guy named Larry Ranallo and ahhh…”

The manager laughs and says: “You know Ike?!?  Ohmygawd, that’s so funny.  Yes, Ike is very well loved around these parts.”

(DING! Two points for the 78 pound water-logged Elf King.)

I’m thinking I need to see my astrophysicist and see if my Scorpio’s stars are in correct alignment!

Fast forward three and a half hours and I’m again, driving the Taurus like I stole it, in the rain, looking for Bamboo Betty’s.

It’s a quarter to seven, and the place is filling up with the looming Vikings v Packers game.  The manager is a mid-30’s kinda guy wearing a Vikings shirt that has this huge #4 emblazoned on the chest.  I guessed that the number was significant equating to the exact number of El Camino’s he’s owned in his lifetime. (Hint: I did figure out the huge #4 was related to my future husband life-parter Brett Favre of the Vikings.  I actually watched the end of the game.  Great smile, cute ass!  Even better; no Ford Taurus.)

Number Four cheerfully hands me an app.  It’s very weird: Their app is exactly…EXACTLY the same app I was handed at Moose on Monroe’s.  EXACTLY. What I’m trying to say to you is that the two establishements, while completely disconnected from each other, obviously uses the same accounting software on their computers and the app is simply a template that includes their name at the top of the sheet. It was very weird.

I hurriedly filled out the sheet, (Hey! I had practice!) and I rush it up to the manager who’s now sitting in the sound-booth in the ballroom area.  I offered up the app along with my dorky  resume and shouted above the din:

“I’m a freelance web designer!!  I’ve been doing this for a while now and I’ve been bartending for years, literally!! I spotted the ad that you’re looking for a bartender to fill-in at random schedules and I wanted to chip in and give it my best!  I was the daytime bartender at the Brass Rail until it closed last January.  The new owner kind of led the unemployed staff that he was going to hire us back.  But, that didn’t happen.  Once he re-opened, his manager didn’t hire any of us back and so I’m looking for new place to throw booze!!”

The manager nodded like he understood. “How long have you been bartending?!” he shouted above the noise.

“For years…decades!  As a student at Tulane University in New Orleans, I knew all of the bar owners in the French Quarter and I would pinch-hit for the bartenders who called in sick or who were on vacation.  That was back…Ahh…back in ‘88!”

He nodded as if he understood.  He said; “Tell me… Have you been to Lush?!”
(Lush, you may know, is one of the newest bars to open in Minneapolis near by Tickles, the popular piano-bar.)

“Lush?!” I shouted back. “No! I haven’t been there … YET!“

Now I’m starting to sound like my friend the Elf King.

“I had lunch with a good friend of mine the other day and he said Lush was fabulous!  The menu is small, but the food is spectacular!  The bartending staff are professionals and it’s kind of small, making it even more appealing!”

…I shouted at him in G-minor.

He grinned real big and shouted back at me: “My uncle owns Lush!  It was a good answer!  I’ll call ya! Thanks for stopping by and filling out the app!”

I drove the Taurus home, in the rain, barely missing a pedestrian with a noticeable limp, and flipped off a police officer who was distracted with a ticket-pad and a Harley Hippy seeking shelter  underneath a bridge.

And all the while I drove home, I wondered if my astrophysicist would mind if I interrupted his Vikings game with a quick request for a fast star-chart of my Scorpio-sign. ..Ike was good friends with the owner of Moose on Monroe, Number 4 of Bamboo Betty’s is the nephew to the owner over there at Lush…and I still look fabulous behind the wheel of a Ford Taurus…

Do you think it was all a coincidence? Or is that just how Jesus throws a bowling ball?