32 years ago the cameras were rolling as a pair of homely diabolical geniuses went forth to conquer the world armed with catchy pop and their irresistibly adorable wives.
Oh, click it. It set a historical standard for cuteness unmatched to this day.
UPDATE:
Seriously, it'd do your flinty little heart good to watch it.
UPDATE II:
An amusing parody video by French and Saunders of "The Winner Takes It All."
C'est la vie, c'est la vie. C'est good for you, c'est bad for me...
MySpace: the Movie- clever work by some young guys, and apparently worth a development deal. I bet if I put an audition tape on YouTube, I could get Wilford Brimley's commercial spokesman jobs. Actually, he's gotten so old and soft, I could probably just punch him in the gut and take that one Quaker Oats gig from him.
Today's departed is Dennis Weaver.
Unfairly overshadowed by the hype of its being Steven Speilberg's first film, Dennis Weaver's performance as the Everyman thrust into a kill-or-be-killed situation in 1971's Duel was superb. This movie still scares the dog snot out of me everytime I watch it.
"One stupid thing happens...and it's like there you are, right back in the jungle again."
His Emmy-winning roles as the gimpy Chester on "Gunsmoke" and the cowboy in New York City "McCloud" made for great television.
As un-Hollywood as they come, Weaver leaves behind a wife of over sixty years.
(Bumped for write-up.)
Showing we can sometimes be misguided, two Southerners are associated with the following songs. What are the songs and who are the people?:
(1)AK-shon
(2)Get the action goin'
**
Congrats to Hookhead for guessing the first one as being Atlanta's Alicia Bridges and "I Love the Nightlife."
One down, one to go.
Hookhead comes back and gives the knock-out punch in the second round with Nashville girl-gone-bad Andrea True and "More, More, More."
Mike gives her name almost at the same time, a bit too enthusiastically, I might add.
That was some good work. One-hit wonder Southern disco divas whose songs prominently feature the word "action" was not enough to stump you.
**
Spare a heart for the North Carolina-born, Atlanta-raised Alicia Bridges. A genuinely talented singer and songwriter, her first offering to the public was her composition "I Love the Nightlife," a disco song that became a world-wide hit and forever typecast her a disco diva. When she followed up with her true style of music, the critics' praise couldn't change the public's disappointment. Two more albums made it clear: it was the disco or the highway for Alicia. She bowed out. Last heard from, she was DJ'ing in clubs in Atlanta, and presumably collecting songwriter royalties for her disco classic.
The song hit the charts once more when a remixed version was featured in the 1994 film "The Adventures of Priscilla, Queen of the Desert."
Which city's skyline is it on the cover of "I Love the Nightlife"? None other than Atlanta's:
Nashville native Andrea True went to one of the best Catholic schools in town. Bit by the acting bug, she went to New York where she quickly revealed her thespian talents to the world as a porn actress. A career was born.
In Jamaica to film a commercial, political turmoil made it impossible for her to leave the island with her earnings. With the help of friend and music producer Gregg Diamond, she used the money for studio time to record a song: the Diamond-penned "More, More, More" was the result. It cost $1,400 to make and was a smash hit.
Engineer Tom Moulton, who mixed the very rough track, was unaware of Andrea's background and later said, "It wouldn't have come out so pretty if I had known what it was about." Tom Moulton's pretty work was heard by the public once more in 1999 when it was sampled by another one-hit wonder, the group Len.
Though she released another album, vocal chord disease ended Andrea's brief musical career, so she perservered with porn until time ended that career as well.
She's now a drug and alcohol addiction counselor at a rehab center in Florida.
***
Previous postings:
Homefires: Southern Music XIV
Homefires: Southern Music XIII
Homefires: Southern Music XII
Homefires: Southern Music XI
Homefires: Southern Music X
Homefires: Southern Music IX
Homefires: Southern Music VIII
Homefires: Southern Music VII
Homefires: Southern Music VI
Homefires: Southern Music V
Homefires: Southern Music IV
Homefires: Southern Music III
Homefires: Southern Music II
Homefires: Southern Music
She used to have the upper hand over me, but Father Time went in there and kicked some ass.
Thanks, Father Time.
Is there anything the Navy can't train, even origami ducks?
Arthur Vanmoor, target of "Operation Big Pimpin' Pappy" is suing a group of johns for getting him into trouble by hiring his prostitutes:
The lawsuit centers on the credit card slip his customers signed when paying their $245-per-hour escort fees, according to Vanmoor's attorney Montgomery Sibley. Above the signature box, the slip stipulates: "Cardholder states that this transaction is not for illegal activity." Had Vanmoor been notified that these men were breaking the law and violating the agreement's terms, "he could have refunded the credit card charges as an act of withdrawal, abandonment, or renunciation," according to the Jan. 25 suit filed in Fort Lauderdale.
Next on his list to sue: the hairdresser that gave him a mullet in the Year of Our Lord 2006.
Get your tissues. Here's a wonderful article on the funeral of firefighter Don Herbert. May we all be as fortunate as Don Herbert to have so many people love us.
Below the jump is a story from last May on his awakening.
He thought he'd only been away for three months--he'd been in a state of minimal consciousness for almost a decade.
Firefighter Emerges From a Lost Decade
Nearly 9 1/2 years after a firefighter was left brain-damaged and mostly mute during a 1995 roof collapse, he did something that shocked his family and doctors: He asked for his wife.
Staff members of the nursing home where Donald Herbert has lived for more than seven years raced to get Linda Herbert on the telephone.
It was the first of many conversations the patient had with his wife, four sons and other family and friends Saturday during a 14-hour stretch, Herbert's uncle Simon Manka said.
"How long have I been away?" Herbert asked.
"We told him almost 10 years," the uncle said. "He thought it was only three months."
Herbert, who will turn 44 Saturday, was fighting a house fire Dec. 29, 1995, when the roof collapsed, burying him under debris. After going without air for several minutes, Herbert was comatose for 2 1/2 months and has undergone therapy ever since.
News accounts in the days and years after his injury describe Herbert as blind and with little, if any, memory. Video shows him receiving physical therapy but apparently unable to communicate and with little awareness of his surroundings.
Manka declined Monday to discuss his nephew's current condition, or whether the apparent progress was continuing this week. The family was seeking privacy while doctors evaluated Herbert, he said.
"He's resting comfortably," the uncle said.
As word of Herbert's progress spread, a steady stream of visitors arrived at the Father Baker Manor nursing home in this Buffalo suburb.
"He stayed up 'til early morning talking with his boys and catching up on what they've been doing over the last several years," firefighter Anthony Liberatore told WIVB-TV.
Herbert's sons were 14, 13, 11 and 3 when he was injured.
Staff members at the nursing facility recognized the change in Herbert, Manka said, when they heard him speaking and "making specific requests."
"The word of the day was `amazing,'" he said.
Dr. Rose Lynn Sherr of New York University Medical Center said when patients recover from brain injuries, they usually do so within two or three years.
"It's almost unheard of after 10 years," she said, "but sometimes things do happen and people suddenly improve and we don't understand why."
Manka said visitors let Herbert set the pace of the conversations and did not bring up the fire in which he was injured.
"The extent and duration of his recovery is not known at this time," Manka said. "However we can tell you he did recognize several family members and friends and did call them by name."
There have been a few other widely publicized examples of brain-damage patients showing sudden improvement after a number of years.
In 2003, an Arkansas man, Terry Wallis, returned to consciousness 19 years after he was injured in a car accident, stunning his mother by saying "Mom" and then asking for a Pepsi. His brain function remained limited, his family said months later.
Tennessee police officer Gary Dockery, who was brain damaged in a 1988 shooting, began speaking to his family one day in 1996, telling jokes and recounting annual winter camping trips. But after 18 hours, he never repeated the unbridled conversation of that day, though he remained more alert than he had been. He died the following year of a blood clot on his lung.
Nipped in the bud.
One of the first movies I ever saw was "The Ghost and Mr. Chicken" at the kiddie matinee. What a blast it was. A great flick and the popcorn cost a dime.
The girl he wins in the end was played by a Playboy model (Joan Staley). Later on he got cocky and started making barking noises whenever Thelma Lou walked by, and it all ended as a big, ugly murder trial played out in screaming headlines in the newspapers.
Posted by floridacracker at 06:50 PM
| Comments (11)
From a BBC correspondent in DC comes some astute observations on the decline of the American left as revealed by the lowly bumper sticker:
The American left has faded away.
Only their bumper stickers remain, like cockroaches after a nuclear holocaust.
"Re-defeat George Bush," they whine. Not knowing, not caring that the world has changed.
Multiple, conflicting messages combined with the advances in communication that destroyed their ability to control information delivery is sending the Democratic Party the way of the dodo.
Bonus word power entry: fissiparous!
At least the Sex Pistols are consistent:
Punk band the Sex Pistols have refused to attend their own induction into the US Rock and Roll Hall of Fame.
In a handwritten note posted on their website, they called the institution "urine in wine".
"We're not your monkeys, we're not coming. You're not paying attention," continued the statement.
You'll find lots of good interviews and video clips at John Lydon's website. He's an entertaining fellow-- and also was clever enough to plough his music earnings into real estate, where he's made a killing over the decades. No sad rock and roll stories for him.
And yes, "Bono without a charity is Bozo" is still as true now as when Lydon first uttered it.
UPDATE:
A favorite scene from a favorite movie and another pithy quote from Lydon: [Nancy Spungen was] "a Titanic waiting for an iceberg to happen."
Guys, it looks like we're going to have to lay low and eat our Winter Whip behind the locked doors of our homes. No picnics for a while--the Mayonnaise Police will only raid us and take our potato salad, if not our lives.
Through a source that I won't name at this time, I heard that Subway, the low-fat health haven that it is, is featuring sandwiches that have zest and zip. I don't know how long it will be before all their shops are burned down, or come under sudden "new ownership." 7-11's used to stock the condiment of our people, but I think we all know how that turned out.
Stay strong and keep the faith. Sooner or later their arteries will clog over and we'll have won.
UPDATE:
My Yahoo mail is blocked (holdthemayo@yahoo.com). If your login name has "mayo" in it anywhere, I imagine you're in the same boat.
UPDATE II:
Yes, I'll admit it: I'm afraid! But not for myself. Bill and Sister said if I didn't shut up about MW...they'd hurt my dogs!
UPDATE III:
Texas won't go down without a fight. I do remember the Alamo. I do, I do.
Surely the militant Mayoists wouldn't harm the Alamo...would they? Not the Alamo.
***
Previous postings:
You're Either For Us Or Against Us
Tunst
Is it the (gasp) Klan?:
Police are doing more patrols in parts of Southwest Decatur in hopes of catching the culprits who have been setting portable toilets on fire.
Freezing weather caused workers to take a long weekend and they returned to construction sites on Tuesday.
That's when they found that four more of the moveable toilets had been burned. Three had been burned earlier.
Reporters across the nation say, "Please, God, please let there be such a thing as African-American port-a-potties."
Here's a must-see short film on sick and obsessive love.
Let it be a lesson to you, if you're not smart enough to learn from Miss Julia Roberts.
Be the first to spot Florida Cracker's first boyfriend on this page. Your entry must include the reason why you chose that particular person.
Your prize? The valuable life lesson of your choice.
"People don't need to worry about security."
That's good news, Dubya. Once the folks of the UAE are settled into running our ports, perhaps they'll be willing to run our airports too.
I've been trying to avoid this foolishness, but it gets nuttier all the time. The saving grace of this administration has been keeping us safe. Where this boneheaded port idea came from, I do not know.
As this point it's like President Bush is dangling us over a crocodile like the Crocodile Hunter did with baby Bob. He may well be in control of the situation, but it sure doesn't look that way.
I'm with N.C. Rep. Sue Myrick on this one: Not just no, but HELL NO.
To the guys who lived downstairs from us in 1983 and used to crank up "Back in Black" at 3:00 a.m.---this was almost you. I used to fantasize your murder. It involved your leader wrapping his chest around my axe. You came that close:
A 45-year-old Marion County man is accused of murdering his neighbor because he was angry that she kept slamming her door.
Belleview police said Vito Loiacono stabbed Betty Shepperd after the two had argued earlier in the day. They said Loiacono was upset that Shepperd had been slamming her door at night and interrupting his sleep.
Posted in the interest of historical accuracy in these days of rock stars, here's a reminder of that other group of guys who had to beat the ladies off with sticks. Some handled it less well than others:
Apple Duck's Travail
Monday, Jan. 21, 1946
He was always perturbing somebody. During the war it was U.S. brass hats and the Japanese Empire indifferently, though in different ways. But carefree Marine Ace Gregory ("Pappy") Boyington never caused himself any perturbations. Two months ago he gave himself a new chance to feel qualms by becoming violently enamored of a blond ex-movie actress named Mrs. Frances Baker. This might well have disturbed a lesser man—for until he met Frances, he had been under the impression that he was about to marry a Mrs. Lucy Malcolmson. But Pappy resigned himself happily to the new turn of events.
He drove to Reno—where pretty, brunette Mrs. Malcolmson was divorcing her husband on Pappy's behalf. She didn't seem to understand. Pappy found himself giving her a three-carat diamond engagement ring. That wasn't all—after Pappy beat a strategic retreat to Los Angeles, Mrs. Malcolmson called in reporters and announced that she was to become Mrs. Pappy Boyington within a week.
Whistling Wolf.
Smiling reminiscently, Mrs. Malcolmson told how the chunky, bull-necked fighter pilot had acted when he saw her for the first time in Bombay, India. "He let out a wolflike whistle, started toward me, tripped over a rug and landed with his arms around my knees." Mrs. Malcomson was not charmed. But when she boarded the S.S. Brazil to be evacuated to New York in 1942, Pappy was aboard too, armed with soft words and a case of Scotch. When she got on a westbound train, Pappy turned up again. "I fell in love with him...."
The U.S. press, which dotes on a hero's true love, hailed Mrs. Malcomson as a modern-day Penelope. Reported the New York Daily News: ACE BOYINGTON TO WED GIRL OF "BLUE YONDER" DREAMS.
Pappy promptly entered a righteous protest: "She hypnotized me." Then he instructed his lawyer to inform Mrs. Malcomson's lawyer that there would be no wedding. Hurriedly he bundled Frances off Las Vegas, got married before a justice of peace.
This set off a wonderful long-distance debate. Cried Mrs. Malcomson: "He told me we were going to Peru together and I sold my house in New York. He wrote a letter to my husband and said we were going to get married. My husband stopped my allowance. I am virtually penniless.
She also displayed a series of telegrams which she had received from Pappy as she traveled westward to Reno. They ended with the phrases, "All my love," "Love you," "Love you so darn much," "Love you, darling" and "Love you, apple duck."
$18,000 Question. Pappy was still undismayed. Back in Los Angeles again, he carried his bride across the threshold three times for news cameramen, served reporters double bourbons, and fired back: "Any romance I carried on with Mrs. Malcolmson was carried on by mail. I had overseas nerves." And what, he wanted to know, had happened to the $18,000 in property and allotment checks he had given Lucy in trust for his three children by a former wife?
In Reno Mrs. Malcolmson cried, "I'm speechless!" This was an exaggeration. "Pappy knows darn well what happened to his money. I spent a lot of my own taking care of his kids. And was kneeling in church with me to pray for the success of our marriage a 'by-mail' romance?"
In Los Angeles the new Mrs. Boyington mused: "I wonder if our married life will always be this exciting?"
Pappy, relaxing in pajamas and dressing gown, said: "I'm through talking for free." Then he reminded newsmen that he would soon start a lecture tour.
It looks like the 7th floor patients at Memorial Medical Center in New Orleans might have been in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Invented in America and debuted at the 1933 Chicago World's Fair, Miracle Whip is as American as apple pie---unlike mayonnaise, a French condiment. Won't you join me in standing with America in these dark times and pledge your loyalty to Miracle Whip?
What will it be?
This:
Or this:
It looks like some people have chosen to abandon their country. Shame. on. you.
UPDATE:
As I am married to a former Chemist-American, I know all about how to properly set up an experiment. This is not how it's done. What our would-be scientist forgets is that some people use the terms "mayonnaise" and "Miracle Whip" interchangeably--one glaring example being in my post "Tunst."
UPDATE II:
Predictably, Big Mayonnaise Journal pulls out the stops to attack me (and gives us an unwanted peek into perversity by letting slip he puts mayonnaise on grilled cheese. Bet you think that's normal too, don't you, Bill?). Thank God for the blogosphere, where voices other than those of the Mayonnaise Stream Media can be heard.
I'm expecting a denial of service attack at any time.
Think you've got it bad?
Dennis Crouch of Daytona Beach has a less-than-understanding friend:
The bizarre burning ended an evening that records show began with [Dennis] Crouch drinking at a friend's house Monday, then apparently becoming depressed about his medical and financial problems. Suddenly, he grabbed a kitchen knife and stabbed himself in the chest and stomach, police records show.
The friend got scared and called police about 9:20 p.m. Crouch fled for home on nearby North Grandview Avenue.
"He stuck the knife in his belly, ma'am, so I thought that was the time to call you," the friend told a 911 dispatcher during a 14-minute call. "And he was bleeding, so I said, 'Well, I can't put up with this.'"
His wife doesn't appreciate him either:
When he got home, Crouch began arguing with his 54-year-old wife, Cecilia, about going to Las Vegas, according to police reports.
Police say Cecilia Crouch ran from her home in fear when her husband again went for a knife.
Police officers rudely set him on fire:
"Taser! Taser!" [Officer Betsy] Cassidy shouted as she sent a two-pronged wire, packing 50,000 volts, at Crouch's chest. What happened next stunned everyone.
A Taser probe pierced the pocket of his khaki shirt -- and ignited the butane lighter inside. Cassidy's pocket exploded in flames.
And to top it off, his cell phone plan stinks:
Crouch didn't seem too concerned about his run-in with police and clearly had other priorities Tuesday night.
"You're burning my minutes," he said about his cell phone. "It's not 9 o'clock yet."
Another pic of Duane in his Layla peacock shirt.
Baby Brother sometimes wore it after Duane's passing.
Wail on, Skydog!
Don Herbert, the oxygen-deprived firefighter who after a ten-year coma woke up and went on a 14-hour talking jag, has died of pneumonia.
Sadly, at no point during his decade-long coma did his wife consider his right to death with dignity. Instead, she and their four children selfishly stuck things out with this damaged "person" until a combination of medicines allowed him to speak. What follows is even more mysterious as, with his speech restored, he failed to demand to be starved and dehydrated to death, even though he was blind, brain-damaged and unable to go shopping at the mall. Bedridden in a nursing home and minus the ability to wield a credit card, he had no quality of life; and during his last week on Earth was forced to play a pathetic game of catch with his four sons who just kept coming around, all seemingly unaware that the most important word in the English language is "closure."
Unconscionably, he died of the inevitable opportunist infection, surrounded by the very people who had failed to do the right thing and have him euthanized.
Cassandra of Villainous Company is hosting the Domestic Terrorism version of the Cotillion. What's so bad about vacuuming wearing pearls, anyway? Why, pearls go with everything.
I created an outstanding dish today whose main ingredient is eggs cooked inside their own shells, but I'm not going to give out the recipe because I'm so disgusted by the Tunst fiasco.
It's embarrassing when someone makes a scene at a funeral, isn't it?:
A mother of two immolated herself on the funeral pyre of her young unmarried lover in this Bihar village, shocking her family members and neighbours who had frowned upon the relationship.
Pull her out of the fire; don't pull her out of the fire. It's a toughie:
"We were shocked. It took us over 15 minutes to decide to pull her out, but she was burnt by then and succumbed to injuries when we rushed her to a private clinic," said a villager who had witnessed the incident, but declined to be named.
I wish she could have played just one round of golf at Augusta before she died.
The Chavez approach to foreign policy: Speak loudly and carry a little green monkey.
The Condi approach: Eat their souls.
I hope the Religion of Peace doesn't make any sudden stops, because with the BBC's nose jammed this far up Islam's behind, there's liable to be a perforated colon.
(Via Lucianne.)
With so much unfairness in life, it's news like this that keeps us rolling the rock up that hill one more time:
A Letcher County woman suffered a horrible injury early Thursday when her arm was severed in a car crash on the Mountain Parkway in Clark County.
...
Sheila Vice, a nurse's aide, and an off-duty EMT from another county stopped to help, and put a tourniquet on [Jacqueline] Dotson's arm to stop the bleeding. Her arm was found near the accident still clutching a cell phone.
They were able to re-attach Dotson's arm, but had to remove it again after incidents involving the hand trying to slap her, choke her, and grab various objects in the room with which to hit her in the head. It also made obscene shadow puppets.
(Via FARK.)
I just fixed lunch, and wanted to share with you a dish I created. We call it "tunst."
Ingredients:
Water-packed tuna (1 can)
*Mayonnaise (1 tbs)
Bread (2 pieces)
Put two pieces of bread in a toaster.
While the bread is toasting, put the tuna in a bowl then mix in the mayonaisse.
When the bread is finished toasting, use the tablespoon to put some of the tuna-mayonnaise mixture onto one of the pieces.
Use back of tablespoon to flatten any lumps.
Top off with other piece of toast.
Enjoy!
*By "mayonnaise" I naturally mean the Southern equivalent of mayonnaise, Miracle Whip.
UPDATE:
Have a good look at the mayonnaise-smeared face of intolerance.
Geez, I wish people still wore hats. Weren't they nice? A hijab just isn't the same thing.
Shitheel Bryant Gumbel's racist comments have the HBO Real Sports forum buzzing.
So far, HBO's spokesman is telling everyone "tough." He obviously hasn't received enough input from the public. Here's the Real Sports contact form.
To the good boy goes the all-access pass to the Olympics. Mine certainly couldn't be trusted to behave themselves in public like this.
Hurricanes are scary. Killer flus are scary. Let's imagine both at the same time and see what we come up with:
A scary scenario emerged Thursday at a health summit here: The state likely will be battling a killer flu during a hurricane.
That means mixing infected and healthy people by the tens of thousands at hurricane shelters statewide. And thousands more may put themselves in harm's way rather than risk infection with a deadly virus.
For any town that wants to play damsel in distress, U.S. Health and Human Services Secretary Michael Leavitt adds "Any community that fails to prepare with the premise that the federal government will rescue them will be tragically wrong."
Here in Ft. Lauderdale that just means that the day after the storm, people will be lining up for water and kleenex.
Unfortunately, Johnny Weir "couldn't feel his aura," and "was black inside":
He said he couldn't predict how he'd perform in Thursday's long program, because "I could very well wake up and feel horrible, like Nick Nolte's mug shot."
He had a Nick Nolte mug shot kind of performance on Thursday night.
Better luck next Olympics, Johnny. Either way, I get to use this adorable pic, even if I couldn't crop it diagonally.
UPDATE
Johnny's not the only one who can dress like a swan. Here's the canine version of Bjork's famous dress:
UPDATE II:
On the advice of Amy and Scott, I went looking for his Olympic profile video. I found it, and it's a doozy, you know, because that's how he rocks it.
Here's the same video, only with a pink arrow pointing out all the gay things, followed by the actual short program where he skates in his lovely swan costume.
University of Washington student senator Jill Edwards, who in the minutes of the Pappy Boyington monument vote questioned if a member of the Marine Corps was an example of the type of person the UW would want to produce, said she was misunderstood and was really just pushing for the erecting of a monument either to the blandly mediocre or to the abysmal failures:
"Obviously he is a great man, and I'm very proud he's an alumnus," she said. "I don't want to feel like we're trying to impose an ideal of achievement on the UW."
In her own proud achievement, in a Live Journal entry Jill mulls the rightness or wrongness of her having stolen a hotel bath mat, and decides morality is subjective.
Of course it is, Jill. If your morality says there's nothing so cheap and petty that it wouldn't be beneath you to steal it, then who are we to say you're wrong?
***
Previous postings:
Appalling Ignorance at UW
I'm usually deep in slumber by this time of the afternoon, so maybe I'm starting to feel better. Of course, it did take me a couple of minutes to type that sentence.
Today's idiotic race-baiting prize goes to Bryant "The Greek" Gumbel. The ceremony's being held over at the Coalition of the Swilling.
"Norway criminalizes blasphemy."
I hope this isn't true.
The editor of the Norwegian Christian weekly Magazinet has fully and completely apologized for publishing the cartoons, which I can't say I blame him for if he's twisting in the wind all by himself.
Did the meaning of the word "contraception" change while I've been away? I keep seeing these articles where Wal-Mart is being forced in certain states to carry contraception, then when I read further it turns out they're not talking about something that prevents conception at all, but rather the abortifacient "morning-after" pill.
If it's the morning after, then the 'ception part already did or didn't happen.
It's a big ethical issue for a lot of people, and imprecise terms don't help the general public understand this particular conflict any better.
A cancer research center has printed a depiction of the HIV virus in human form. Let the Jesse Jackson jihad begin.
Another pic of Duane and the Hourglass in what I like to call "the Lace Session".
If only these were in color.
Wail on, Skydog!
UPDATE:
A little taste of the color possibilities:
I am ill, and news like this might give me apoplexy.
The quotes in the minutes of the UW student senate meeting as they decline to honor the Medal of Honor recipient who went to their school are mind-blowing.
I'll only state that far from being the "rich white male" that senate vice-president Ashley Miller disparagingly called him, Greg "Pappy" Boyington hardly ever had two nickels to rub together in his entire life. He also happened to be half Sioux.
Ashley did manage to correctly identify him as a male, though.
Liberal Larry's got it covered, so I'll leave it at that.
(Via Ace.)
More fraud, waste, and abuse from FEMA, including people just calling in and getting a check in the mail:
In at least 1,000 cases, people succeeded in collecting aid using the Social Security numbers of dead people, the GAO discovered. Although the $2,000 payments were limited to one per household, auditors found that FEMA gave duplicate payments to 5,000 individuals who already had collected $2,000 each in debit cards. The error cost taxpayers an estimated $10 million.
The GAO says the fraud could reach into the hundreds of millions of dollars.
PBS has a good site for their documentary Guerrilla: The Taking of Patty Hearst. Especially interesting are their primary source documents, including this 1975 Rolling Stone article about a would-be radical sportswriter who'd hidden Patty and the SLA because he'd wanted to write a book about them.
First the Lutefisk Desecration Riots and now this.
When you go grocery shopping, make sure you stop at the deli section and pick up some nice Lurpak Danish butter. You'll get to enjoy some especially tasty butter and tick off Islamofascists at the same time.
We got a couple of different kinds today and they really are yummy.
For the life of me I can't understand why people still go out to movie theaters:
An Australian tourist has been charged with assault after telling a Texas woman to stop talking on her mobile phone at the movies.
Actually, that's a misleading headline--the tourist wasn't charged with assault for telling the woman to shup up; it was for touching her arm, which is indeed assault. But there are all kinds of things you can do to aggravate cellphone people without touching them. All that's required is for you to be creative and get into the spirit of obnoxiousness. For instance, I used to think it was annoying to be in a public restroom and hear some woman running her mouth on the phone on a nearby commode, but now I use that time in a locked tiled stall with beautiful accoustics to release my inner thespian. My inner thespian is Marlon Brando after he's taken that fifth Taco Bell run to the border. He's just the thing for breaking up a cellphone conversation.
Right now you think you'd never do that; you're too fine to act out a horrifically loud and dramatic bowel movement in public. But one day you'll be in there and hear someone talking the prattle of the dead nearby...and this post will cross your mind.
I'm blaming this particular tactic on my brother. Any of y'all ever messed with the minds of obnoxious cellphone people?
Some people have gone all out making an entertaining site on the Bog People. That wasn't really necessary--the subject matter is inherently interesting.
Mara 18 gang members are feeling just a little bit nervous in Guatemala these days as their ranks are thinned by vigilantes who kill them and put placards next to their bodies detailing their misdeeds.
Authorities are seeking the vigilantes' leader, said to be a mustachioed man whose face looks like it had once caught on fire and somebody'd put it out with a rake.
If you missed it when it came out last month, here's an article on the very interesting Gianna Jessen. Unlike pretenders like James Frey, her life really is all about overcoming.
It's not my normal subject matter, but her story is just so unusual. Gianna Jessen survived a late-term abortion: her own.
Miami-Dade fire-rescue has 43 different anti-venins that cover 98 percent of all the world's venomous snakes. Unfortunately, they don't have one for whatever snake bit this guy.
Hey groovsters! The Cracker has the flu and says the only thing worth looking at are the insides of her eyelids. She'll be back later. Meanwhile, check out these blogs because they're always full of good stuff:
Tim Blair, MOM, Blame Bush!, INDC Journal, Gates of Vienna, and Ace.
Today's ironic news is that Michael Jackson has been forced to become a Wandering Jew. You know that's got to smart.
See you next time!
Bobby Mugabe, master planner of the fastest shrinking economy in the world, wants his white farmers to come back home. He misses their laughter, their sweet faces, and the almost half of Zimbabwe's foreign currency that they used to bring in.
The USA Today has an in-depth article on miner Randy McCloy's recovery, including the news that he has spoken a few words. They're still trying to figure out how on earth he survived.
I'd said his brother had gotten all the Christmas presents he was going to get with that stunt he pulled of taking pictures of his then-comatose brother for the National Enquirer. The hard feelings, however, go farther than that: McCloy's wife is suing him over it. So the money he received from the tabloid will now go to paying a lawyer to defend him. That's pretty good punishment
We gals do prefer to iron out our differences with our husbands while they're sleeping.
Accept us as we are!
UPDATE
Vive La Similarite!:
A hilarious quote from Darlene Hilker, sent by a judge to the Women Who Batter program for abusing her husband:
"A lot of women don't feel like they can be batterers, but you just get pushed to a point and it just happens," said Hilker.
Why does this guy have to make Darlene hit him anyway? Look at all the trouble he's caused!
Duane with some of the Hourglass.
The tie is wide, but he's holding on, and I do believe he's wearing moccasins.
Wail on, Skydog!
UPDATE
As long as we're discussing footwear, here are some sandals:
The widow of diet guru Dr. Atkins has promised a $16,000 check to a group of health-conscious Ft. Lauderdale elementary students who refused to sell candy for a class trip. Responding affirmatively to Veronica Atkins' offer of sponsorship, all booster clubs at Northside Elementary will henceforth sell only sticks of butter.
And all this time I thought it was because I have a short fuse:
"When someone cuts us off on the road, it triggers an ancient evolved adaptation to protect social reputation," [author David M.] Buss says. "People become known as the kind who won't take any … or the kind you can exploit with impunity. If the person fails to respond to the trespass, then it signals exploitability. It tells the trespasser that he/she can trespass in the future."
More than a bruised ego is at stake. People who are "exploitable" might be less likely to attract a mate and propagate -- the mandate behind most territorial behavior, Buss says.
I am not exploitable, damn you!
Did you know I stand on the shoulders of Coretta Scott King? I didn't either; but Donna Shalala says it's so, and so it must be.
Just as long as I'm not standing on the shoulders of creepy Yoko Ono, or crazy Courtney Love, or even some widow who's only famous because of who she was married to.
[Booted back to the top for the write-up.]
Two "explosive" singers who made both the pop and country charts.
To all you demons from hell who constantly thwart me on my path to being proclaimed the all-knowing Southern music gurette: I will listen to the gears in your brains grind and I will laugh.
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I'll add another clue: each is mentioned by name in other people's hit songs -- one song is Rock, the other Country.
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Ritchie has correctly guessed one of them as being Tanya Tucker, whose album "TNT" caused a ruckus, who has had songs on both charts, and who is mentioned by name in Gretchen Wilson's chart-topper "Redneck Woman."
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OK, one last bit of help for the other one: this singer also has two connections with Led Zeppelin: Jimmy Page played on one of this singer's albums, and they're both in the Rock and Roll HOF.
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This is the last clue before declaring my (partial) victory: Before Patsy Cline could even think about cross-over hits, this singer had already done it; and this singer is not only in the Rock and Roll HOF, but the Country Music HOF, and the Rockabilly HOF as well.
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Hallelujah, Scott Chaffin of The Fat Guy correctly guessed Brenda Lee, the "Little Miss Dynamite," cross-over queen extraordinaire, muse of Golden Earring, employer of Jimmy Page, and inductee of three different halls of fame.
Good job, Ritchie and Scott!
This write-up ended up being a whole lot of work, so I'm probably going to scale back our little contests from now on. Plus, you bastards don't comment enough when I opine on political matters.
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Although TNT is supposed to be more stable than dynamite, in the case of wild child Tanya Tucker and the steady Brenda Lee, it’s the opposite. Both of these famous “little girls with big voices” had songs in the top ten by the time they were 13 years old, and long successful careers afterward; but Lee's and Tucker's lives off the stage are quite different.
Brenda Lee, the 4'11" “Little Miss Dynamite,” was born in 1944 in Atlanta and started her career at seven years of age. After years on radio and television, she was signed by Decca in 1956. She had the luck to be put with producer Owen Bradley who oversaw almost all her hits. Her first release, "One Step at a Time," charted for both Rock and Roll and Country, and she immediately began touring internationally. She later hit her stride with songs like "Dynamite," "I'm Sorry," and the perennial favorite "Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree." On the pop charts, she had two No. 1's ("I'm Sorry" and "I Want to Be Wanted"), four Top 5s and five Top 10s. Her 1964 hit "Is It True?" was recorded in London and features a young studio musician named Jimmy Page on guitar. Her last hurrah for the pop music market was 1966's "Coming on Strong," which will make the classic Golden Earring song "Radar Love" now make a whole lot more sense when you hear it. For the 60's alone, her songs reached the various Billboard charts fifty-five times.
Brenda Lee was very fortunate both in her own temperment and with the people who handled her career. She was able to have a long, successful, lucrative career as well as a very happy personal life. As a teen idol in 1963, she married Ronnie Shacklett, a union that lasts to this day.
She moved over to strictly Country music in 1973 and had nine more Top 10s before retiring.
She spends her time these days doing philanthropic work in Nashville and generally being a living legend.
Brenda Lee is in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame, the Country Music Hall of Fame, and the Rockabilly Hall of Fame.
The Texas-born Tanya Tucker was given some of the best Country songs written to match her amazing voice, if not her age. Her formal schooling ended in middle school with the success of her first recording,"Delta Dawn," when a large group of students forced her into a bathroom and made her stand up on a toilet and sing it for them. 
But if anyone wants to talk about the phenomena of singing Lolitas like Britney Spears, they need to take a look at Tanya’s early hits. The world-weary voice you heard singing “Blood Red and Going Down,” a song about a girl going with her father to hunt down and kill her cheating mother, was sung by a 14-year-old:
We searched in every bar room, an' honky-tonk as well.
An' finally Daddy found them, but Lord, you know, the rest is hard to tell.
He sent me out to wait, but scared, I looked back through the door.
An' Daddy left them both soakin' up the sawdust on the floor.
And as a 15-year-old, her next number one hit was the David Allen Coe penned "Would You Lay with Me in a Field of Stones." Yikes. 
Tanya had a string of Country Top 10s and Number 1's during the 1970's (including "What's Your Mama's Name"), some of which also made their way over to Rock stations and onto the Pop charts. As an aside, I keep running into people who've never listened to Country radio, but they can all sing a Tanya Tucker song or two.
Tanya was the original redneck woman. She had been visiting rock stations and planning a rock and roll crossover long before 1978’s TNT came along and shocked not just her Country audience with its Rock sound, but just about everybody who owned a pair of eyeballs with the lurid cover and gatefold. People had no idea the girl was that...wild. If you’ve never listened to TNT, do yourself a favor and check out the clips. It’s very good, especially her covers of “Not Fade Away” and “Angel from Montgomery." The former stands up to the cover done by the Rolling Stones and the latter outdoes the famous Bonnie Raitt cover. The last song on the album is not Rock at all, but pure Country: "Texas (When I Die.) It went to number one on the country charts and and has become a classic.
For some time after this, it seems she was more often in the tabloids than on the charts, and she had the ignomy of being booed off the stage of the Grand Ol' Opry when she tried to perform a Rock number there. She restormed the Country scene with 1986's Girls Like Me, which gave her four Top 10s, and sealed the deal in 1988 with an additional three Number 1's ("I Won't Take Less Than Your Love," "If It Don't Come Easy" and "Strong Enough to Bend.") Then she headed off to rehab for alcohol and cocaine addiction. When she later refused to name the father of the first of her illegitimate children, one radio station had a running gag for its commuting male listeners to honk if he was the baby's father.
Fulfilling the promise of her 1972 Newcomer of the Year award, in 1991 she was the Country Music Association's Female Vocalist of the Year. During the 1990's she had an additional eight Top 10 songs.
Judging from her book, Tanya is at heart a big ol' slut; but she's a great singer who’s given us many songs that have stood the test the time. She's still out there performing today, and lately can be seen in Gretchen Wilson's video for "Redneck Woman" when Gretchen sings the line "I know all the words to every Tanya Tucker song."
I would highly recommend going to Itunes or Amazon and getting a greatest hits compilation that covers her best work over the decades and across all her different record labels, along with TNT, which isn't available on Itunes.
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Previous postings:
Homefires: Southern Music XIII
Homefires: Southern Music XII
Homefires: Southern Music XI
Homefires: Southern Music X
Homefires: Southern Music IX
Homefires: Southern Music VIII
Homefires: Southern Music VII
Homefires: Southern Music VI
Homefires: Southern Music V
Homefires: Southern Music IV
Homefires: Southern Music III
Homefires: Southern Music II
Homefires: Southern Music
After much acting-out, Iran is being sent to the principal's office. The guidance counsellor thinks Iran is being treated unfairly:
As a result, the stage is now set for Iran's victimization by a concerted Western campaign instrumentalizing the Security Council in the name of world peace and non-proliferation, taking full advantage of certain statements by Iran's president and thus deliberately conflating Iran's legal rights with their self-justified political objectives.
Yes, yes. Iran's a good boy, really.
Unfortunately, Coach Israel might not be able to paddle Iran's bottom as thoroughly as needed.
Right Girl is hosting the Cotillion this week. She'll be carving an ice sculpture in the likeness of Ted Kennedy, so be sure to check it out.
There will also be face-painting and balloon animals.
If you haven't read them yet, both Jeff Jacoby and Mark Stein have interesting columns on the Mo cartoons, and Eugene Volokh sifts through the Boston Globe's hypocritical editorials on insults to religious figures.
MOM has added two excellent posts to the debate coming at things from a different angle. They serve as a counter-balance to the frenzy we're currently caught up in.
Me, I'm just tired of people who think there's a right to not be offended. The old rules of polite society worked fine for me: insult who you want, but remember he could punch you in the face for it.
That's on an individual level. I don't think newspapers should be in the business of attempting to provoke anyone. They reach too many people at once, and have no face to punch. It's always been my belief that newspapers should just report news.
But, as the saying goes, once the pants are off, you're in it. Mistakes are made.
So the Jyllands-Posten gave Islam a poke in the eye. The repercussions, if nothing else, give authorities the golden opportunity to round up those smoked-out violent radicals who think the proper response to insult is mass murder.
I didn't know that the famous dog Rex was at the SOTU address. I also didn't know that it was he who ordered Cindy Sheehan removed. I'm sure he was doing what he felt was best.
Calling this magnificent animal "Rin RepubliTin Tin foil asshat dog," like one of Liberal Larry's commenters did, smacks of partisan bitterness.
Every once in a while you'll read of a captain like this:
Survivors of the Red Sea ferry disaster said on Saturday the Egyptian captain had fled his burning ship by lifeboat and abandoned them to their fate, as hopes faded of finding some 800 missing people.
What a horrible loss of life.
I recall some other unstalwart captains whose ships' names escape me right now, including one sinking of a liner off of South Africa where the captain beat feet and it was the ship's activities director who organized and led the passengers [It was the Oceanos -FC]; and a funny one off of Florida where the captain high-tailed it to a rescue ship so fast that the rescuers shamed him by making him sit in his lifeboat in the water until they'd gotten all his passengers and crew aboard.
I'm striking ship's captain off of my list of potential occupations as in event of a sinking, the rats would be eating my dust as I fled.
You knew she'd have to lie in state somewhere.
In the future, everyone will lie in state for 15 minutes.
More on yesterday's demonstrations in London here.
Aww, she hearts al-Qaeda.
Good stuff over at the Viking Observer and The Religious Policeman (scroll down one, the permalink's messed up.)
Oetzi, still making news 5,300 years after he died:
A Stone Age man found frozen in the Alps some 5,300 years after he was murdered under mysterious circumstances may have been a childless social outcast, a new study showed.
He has friends now, and that's all that matters. If you'd like, you can make a copy of Oetzi the Iceman to be your special friend.
What is it with fat ladies and lesbians writing complaints to state medical boards? Is there such a thing as a possum diet? That'd shut both of them up, I daresay.
We shall all be offended together.
Are you ready? Get beefin'!
Ashlee Pulcini gets spared decades in prison by the very father she tried to have killed:
Police say his teenage daughter paid $200 and delivered the dad's own gun to her friend to use to murder him, but Michael Pulcini begged a judge Thursday to keep his family together -- and his daughter out of prison.
...
His voice cracking with emotion, Michael Pulcini said he was convinced his daughter realized she made a mistake and did everything possible to stop the alleged hit on his life.
...
Police said Ashlee Pulcini and her then-boyfriend John Coffin hired another teenage acquaintance, Derek Loring, to kill Michael Pulcini, who did not approve of their relationship and had ordered his daughter to stay away from Coffin. Ashlee Pulcini admitted in court to paying Loring $200 and giving him her father's .45-caliber handgun. Coffin allegedly paid the remaining $100.Coffin also is charged with solicitation to commit murder, and his case is still open. Loring, who told police about the plot, was not charged.
Ashlee Pulcini told [Judge] Conner she realized she made a mistake and ''tried to fix it'' by repeatedly calling Loring in an effort to get the gun back. She also said she didn't take the plot seriously at first.
''I am really, truly sorry for everything that has happened, and I don't blame anybody but myself,'' Ashlee Pulcini said.
She got house arrest and probation instead of 30 years in prison. A dad's love is something, isn't it? Did she really want him dead? Oh, yeah.
Can one song's "DNA" be matched with another? The Music Genome Project is trying.
You can check out the results for yourself at Pandora. If you try to go back a second time they'll bother you about registering, so enjoy your first visit.
Those African bees sure do have a temper. Michelle has word of their latest activities.
The US is indeed going for splendid isolation:
The United States blasted the publication by European newspapers of cartoons of the Prophet Mohammed as unacceptable incitement to religious or ethnic hatred.
"These cartoons are indeed offensive to the beliefs of Muslims," State Department spokesman Justin Higgins said when queried about the furore sparked by the cartoons which first appeared in a Danish newspaper.
"We all fully recognize and respect freedom of the press and expression but it must be coupled with press responsibility," Higgins told AFP.
"Inciting religious or ethnic hatreds in this manner is not acceptable. We call for tolerance and respect for all communities and for their religious beliefs and practices."
That's very diplomatic, but some groups are more easily incitable than others, aren't they? This was the point about self-censorsing that the Jyllands-Posten was trying to make.
I think they've proven their case:
What's this guy doing driving a school bus? He's Florida teacher headline material:
Authorities said the 38-year-old driver called himself The Emperor and used Star Wars characters like Jabba the Hutt to encourage his charges to follow storylines from the movie, resulting in kids pummeling each other and cutting each other's clothes with scissors -- instead of light-sabers.
Law enforcement sources told The Daily News that [Michael] Cianci said he created The Death Cheese Club to discipline the middle school children, giving them names like Darth, Sith Warrior and Jabba.
Mr. Cianci, get that teaching certificate and come on down.
I'm finding this cartoon dust-up very interesting. An article on it in tomorrow's Washington Post is weighted against the newspapers that published the drawings. That's not surprising, as the Post managed to do a three-page write up on drawings without reprinting one of them.
login/pswd=mobb@deep.com/mobbdeep
UPDATE:
Some people remind me of crazy-ass African bees:
About 300 militant Indonesian Muslims went on a rampage inside the lobby of a Jakarta building housing the Danish embassy on Friday in protest over cartoons that Muslims say insult Islam and the Prophet Mohammad.Shouting "Allahu Akbar" (God is Greatest), the white-clad protesters from the hardline Islamic Defender's Front (FPI) smashed lamps with bamboo sticks and threw chairs around in anger at cartoons originally published by a Danish daily.
...
About 100 Indonesian policemen watched the FPI protesters as they made fiery speeches calling on the government of the world's most populous Muslim nation to sever diplomatic ties with Denmark and evict its ambassador.The protesters dispersed after an hour. There were no arrests.
Of course there weren't.
So many folks try to ride Punxsutawney Phil's furry coattails to fame. I'm surprised Cindy Sheehan wasn't there:
The National Environmental Trust said its groundhog-suit-wearing human "will ignore his shadow and will instead rely on global warming evidence to forecast an early spring."
The American Physiological Society was offering experts to discuss "What Punxsutawney Phil can teach us about surviving massive blood loss, preventing muscle atrophy, and more."
The Pennsylvania Lottery even has Gus, "the second most famous groundhog in Pennsylvania," who implores lottery players to "keep on scratchin'."
Phil is too focused and professional to notice others trying to bask in his reflected glory.
Phil saw his shadow.
Looking closer, I think I do see Cindy in the crowd, right under Phil's chin. Let's magnify that section of the photo:
Who is Punxsutawney Phil and why is he stealing all my attention?
More people are asking questions about cell phones and brain tumors:
Adding new fuel to the debate over cell phone safety, three European research groups in separate studies have found an increased risk of brain tumors in people who have used the phones for 10 years or more.
What's being overlooked here is the potential danger of second-hand cell phone tumors. They should be banned while further studies are conducted.
The managing director of France Soir has been fired by its French-Egyptian owner for publishing the Muhammad cartoons:
The editor of a French newspaper that printed a cartoon featuring the Prophet Muhammad on its front page has been sacked for offending Muslims.
Jacques Lefranc was dismissed by the owner of France Soir, as his paper became embroiled in a developing row between Muslims and European press.
Muslim countries have imposed sanctions against Denmark after a Danish paper first printed Muhammad cartoons.
Other European journals reprinted the images to show support for free speech.
France Soir printed a newly created cartoon on its front page showing Buddhist, Jewish, Muslim and Christian holy figures sitting on a cloud, with the caption "Don't worry Muhammad, we've all been caricatures here".
The BBC has a short video interview with Jacques Lefranc at the above link. "It's about freedom of the press and freedom of speech in a modern democracy," said Mr. Lefranc.
(Via Tim Blair.)
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Previous postings:
Just Say No To Dhimmitude
Good for France Soir, Die Welt, La Stampa, and El Periodico for standing with the Jyllands-Posten in its refusal to bow to Islamic theocracy.
If Muslims want to attack every country that has published depictions of Mohammad, they're going to be very busy.
There's lots of good reading to be had over at the Religious Policeman, who's been covering the cartoon controversy extensively.
Michelle Malkin has more.
I don't know what the chairman of the Chamber of Commerce in your town does to unwind, but the one in Miami likes to sit in his van naked from the waist down and cook up a nice batch of crack.
Philip Blumberg's resume is quite amazing. Now he's working on an equally stunning rap sheet.
Blumberg was recently dumped by reporter Michelle Kosinski, who proved entertaining in her own right last year while reporting from a canoe in two feet of water.
Duane in his Layla peacock shirt. I saw it advertised on E-bay last year for 20K.
Looks like he's doing the gauze thing with his slide again.
Wail on, Skydog!
