Newscoma

In just a few minutes, this will be a ongoing commentary about the wonderful and suspenseful “Plan 9 From Outer Space” by the ever fabulous Ed Wood.

 

I’ll be following the drama, the pain, the joy, the love and the amazing acting in this movie on this post. I will add and update as the movie, in it’s beauty, goes along. I realize this either makes you happy, or bored out of your skull.

Yeah, I own that.

I realize this is insane.

And, yeah, there will be a bottle of wine along for the ride (for me) as well as the intervention of Squirrel Queen, who will also be watching football from the other room.

Enjoy, be joyful, be sad… This is bound to be somewhat sad yet oddly … incredible or … sad.

We have, for your viewing enjoyment: A bottle of Yellow Tail Merlot, four yapping dogs and a special grand-prize which is : Breathing actual oxygen for the next hour and a half.

Everyone WINS!

We are cool that way.

Be back for opening credits in six minutes.

OPENING COMMENTARY: Worst movie of all time. Yeah, we knew this. But isn’t that groovy, WORST MOVIE OF ALL TIME. Bela Lugosi died during the few first days of this masterpiece. And his Chiropractor filled in. Isn’t that groovy? I’m on the edge of my seat. IT’S STARING with very dramatic music.

THE OPENING: “Let’s punish the guilty…” I love opening monologues. We have us some … zombies coming up, by golly.

Opening Scenes: Bela is crying. At a grave. “The shadows of grief crowded his very reason.” I could have written this, and by GOD, I wish I had. Lots of fake crying at the gravesite. (You realize you guys can chime in at anytime.) FIXING TO HAVE SOME UFOS AND ZOMBIES!

Pilots Setting up the Plot: (What plot? Who knows) Stunning sets! American Flight 812 is having a bad day. Dang, does Squirrel Queen have us wine? Yes she does! The gravediggers are wigged out.

FOG: We have fog people and Vampira. Wait, Bela is walking around a house. “His grief over his wife’s death … has become a tomb.” GREATEST NARRATION EVER. “Confused, the old man left his home, never to return again.” I’m sorry, heh, and heh. His dead wife was watching this sad tale. The narrator told me this. And there in lies the beauty of Plan 9. We have no idea about what the hell is going on.

THE POLICE ARE ON THE CASE: Yeah, this is fine detective work. Although, I would love the hat that Tor Johnson has on. I would look more than groovy. And, now. (sshhh, this is scary, he’s in the fog.)

THE MORGUE WAGON: Greatest dialogue ever. I’ve only heard this term on Plan 9. The wine is being poured.

The KIND FROM UP THERE, OR UP THERE: Do not thwart the voice of Jeff. He’s the hero, I think. His voice, he’s a pilot, he’s being silenced. (Ed Wood, you genius.) From John Carney in the comments: The type of flying saucer from up there — as opposed to the kind that burrows under the earth, I suppose.

(Editor’s note: This is fun.)

DIALOGUE SNIPPET: “Sounds like crazy trouble” is said as Tor is killed and totally dead. Yup, Tor, The Police Chief is dead. More dialogue from a cop and the famous gun scene “Yes, he’s messed up, he’s crazy dead.” How did trench coat guy not kill himself with that gun action?

THE FLYING SAUCERS ARE HERE AND A DRUNK FOUND THE NEWSPAPER: As it always happens. There are a lot of drunk people in this scene. FLYING SAUCERS OVER WASHINGTON. The army convoy is on the move. Man, this scene is bad, and yet quite delightful.

(Squirrel Queen: the UFO’s are careening around drunkenly. I’m shouting at her “CATCH UP AND POUR MORE WINE.)

GENERALS ARE TALKING, not much is being resolved here. My wine selection is poor. I realize this. Must find better wine. WAIT, I’M WATCHING A MOVIE. Must Blog.

SNARKY ALIENS: “The pituitary glands of the dead.” Is this a Washington cocktail party in annihilating our society. The hairdos are about the same. Snazzy satin clothes. Yeah, Washington. “Our Electrode guns…” Man, I love that.

THE UFOS ARE HERE: Jeff is trying to save his wife who says ” Go and fly your flying machine.” Jeff is figuring it out. Yeah, dumb wife just did the famous UFO’s are up there … speech. Campers, I can’t look it up for you.

GLASS OF WINE # 2.

I do deserve it, you know.

THE PILOTS ARE BACK … they don’t seem to be bright. One is named Benny. I notice there are absolutely no controls in the cockpit. BRILLIANT. The planes are run on BRAIN POWER. The flight attendant is named Edie. Benny is coming on to Edie. Yeah, sexual dynamics in an Ed Wood movie is always …. uncomfortable.

BELA IS BACK. BELA IS BACK. And, of course, he has his smashing cape on. Jeff’s wife is in bed. This can only go poorly. And it’s his chiropractor. Man, I love that.

RUNNING THROUGH A COMETARY: With a white nightgown. ROWR.

VAMPIRA AND TOR: I is afeared. The sexual tension is killing me.

A FAINT: There is always a faint in Ed Wood movies. Russ, yes, the chiropractor is in the house!

OOPS, THE COPS ARE BACK: Back-Crack Boy is back. And the cops are doing a great job as Vampira and Tor are wandering hither and tither. More Aliens with coiffed hair. I love me some coiffed hair.

COMPLAINING COPS: ‘Nuff said.

GREAT DIALOGUE: Damn women, becoming hysterical. Sheesh. The Po-Po have figured it out. IT’S UFO’S.

SORRY ABOUT THE LAPSE: The cop dialogue on investigation always makes me ponder about where Gus Grissom was, and would he have figured this out sooner. I’m thinking yes.

WELL, DAMN THE PENTAGON IS ON IT! DOOMED, DOOMED, I TELL YOU!! : The Colonel believes in them. Buzz Aldrin believes in them. Jimmy Carter believes in them. BUT THERE ARE DIRECT ORDERS. This movie, revolutionary, I’m telling you and I’m not even on Wine Glass #3.

THEY HAVE A LANGUAGE COMPUTER: Not to be confused with Babelfish. Now the aliens are just talking at us. TALKING AT US. Yeah, this is right for 2007. Ed Wood was a psychic.

THE COLONEL IS ON IT: Yeah, poor bastard.

THE RULER: He’s bitching at Tannos and Eros. Heh, they said Eros. The Ruler is taking Ero’s ship. He only made three zombies. The Ruler thinks he sucks.

I’m thinking more wine is needed, how about you guys?

ACTION:Tor tried to kill Eros. Yup, sounds like freedom and diplomacy.

THE RULER: Basically tells Eros that Earth people suck, are closed minded and that the dead will march. Yeah, we’ve heard that. But there never were as satiny dressed at they are in Plan 9. WAIT, UFO’S are flying around. The colonel is at Jeff’s. He’s kinda Rummy, don’t you think?

PRESSURE: Not hot, not cold. Just pressure. Man, the communication skills of folks in the 50’s … kinda like communication skills of folks in 2007. Yeah but they are smoking and drinking. GROOVY. AND…”Something started stinking really bad.” Great dialogue, Great!

WAIT, DRAMATIC MUSIC AND THE CHIROPRACTOR IS BACK: Sorta sad. Sorta not. And now the Bela/back cracking doctor is a skeleton. Yeah. And the first words “Whadda you make of that?” IT’S A SKELETON. Everyone is traumatized, fishstick.

Jeff’s wife has a sexy voice on her. Not.

Incidentally, I’ve had no third glass of wine. Autobiographical pause, here at Chez Coma.

GUNS SHOULDN’T BE SLUNG AROUND: A friendly reminder from your favorite Newscoma.

TOR IS A WEAPON OF MASS DESTRUCTION: Man, he just swiped the officer without a care in the world.

EROS: Needs to calm down. Cause the earthlings ain’t that bright. Remember stupid means hardship as gunslinging guy could take anyone down in moments. I want to be trained like that.

FINALLY GOT MORE WINE!

BREAKING IT DOWN: The big dramatic showdown has started. Eros is making the cops feel like goats. He has satin on, so that makes him smarter according to Ed Wood. Tor has wifey. Eros is called a fiend. Eros says he’s a soldier of his planet. Tells coppers they came as friends. Eros says governments are idiotic. The Colonel is doing some shabby negotions. And EROS says “YOU ARE STUPID.”

Wait, Eros is making some sense here. Must go back to wine.

EROS STILL MAKING SENSE: Jeez. I have no idea what to say.

SOLARNITE: Okay, Tannos just had the crap beat out of her by Eros. He’s no longer making sense. And what is Solarnite? I ponder, yet not know. I love me some Plan 9.

Clay/Tor HAS MADE A COP TALK ALL DRUNK: No one believes him. Thus the justice of the world doesn’t listen. Alas, always a problem.

EROS: He needs a Zoloft, man. But cops want to arrest him. Yeah, like that’s gonna work. HE’S AN ALIEN. He’s got mad skillz.

TOR: Man, his guys are freaking out against him. “I can out run him.” Yup, he’s down, Jeff’s wife went down with him and Eros proves himself arrogant but says “This only happened because the electrode ray is out.” Well, that always sucks.

FIGHT, FIGHT, FIGHT: Americans are winning. This, of course, happens.

YOU REALIZE WE COULD START A DRINKING GAME AT THIS POINT!

Damn aliens in their burning UFO’s. ALAS, the moral of the story is that no one can talk to other folks.

“CAN YOU PROVE THIS DIDN’T HAPPEN?”

It’s over. Have a beer on me. Hope you had fun. And …

Any movie with Vampira and Tor Johnson has got to be smoking.

And I bid you, good night.

“Where’s my wine and you damn kids get off my lawn.”

I love me some strings on a spaceship. Forbidden Planet is coming on. NOW, that my friends, is amazing.

 

Cuppa Joe is fantastic.

FANTASTIC!

He sent me this link and I’m so delighted I just want to turn a damn cartwheel.

And bite. (Heh.)

He sent me this and I just can’t stand myself.

Oh man, I love this. Just love it.

This is incredible.

LOLZOMBIES. 

How incredible.

Thanks Joe.

Just go to LOLZOMBIES NOW!!! 

Okay (yes, Ivy, I used the word okay to start a blog post, but honestly I couldn’t start this any other way. I am asking for forgiveness instead of permission. I will be better in the future.)

And, to Sara Clark, I’m using the word fishstick in a way most deserving. I may be an R-rated blog, but I still caters to families. All sorts of families, if you get my drift and I think you do.  Fishstick comes from a Twitter conversation from Friday.

Definition: FISHSTICK: A new slang developed by Sara and I for your use. Think dirty, you’ll get it. Change it around … We will be in the Urban Dictionary in no time.

But I saw this over at Sarah’s blog and I must tell you, I laughed. Maybe I shouldn’t have laughed but I did.

Here’s the background over at The Smoking Gun:

Meet Carlton Davis. The Minnesota man, 26, is facing felony charges for allegedly stealing a cell phone and purse from a woman he mugged on a St. Paul street early Saturday morning. According to police, after the woman turned over her belongings, Davis announced, “Now I’m going to suck your feet.” Which he did ….

Please just go see the picture. Amazingly and creepily disgusting yet I could not look away for it’s unique oddity.

The Asshat award goes to Davis, who committed a crime and then did some weird toelicking thing that was completely and atrociously out of line.

The mug shot, well if that doesn’t rehabilitate him, I don’t know what will.

What a Fishstick.

I am a bad meme girl recently, but I had to think about this one, having been wrangling raccoons from the jaws of rabid corporate coyotes lately and my brain is a bit fried these days.

Alas, the world of Newscoma.

But back on September 5th, Frank honored me with an award and, I must tell you, I was delighted and thrilled. Frank at Left of the Dial is one groovy cat and I wanted to make sure I did this right.

It’s called a Blogger Reflection award, and it’s a nice one. So, after dropping the ball for the past three weeks, I’m going to offer my Blogger Reflection Awards to some fine folks who keep me coming back for more.

Rules of participating:
1. Copy these rules.
2. Reflect on five bloggers and write a least a paragraph about each one.
3. Make sure you link to this post so others can read it and the rules.
4. Leave your chosen bloggers a comment to let them know they’ve been given the award.
5. Put the award icon on your site

Where to start, where to start … there are so many so I’ll just dive in.

And, let me say, these are in no particular order, so awaaay we goooo:

1. Big Stupid Tommy. Man, I love me some BST. He makes me laugh, he’s honest. And that’s why I like him. He can write something heartwrenching and then find the most bizarre cartoon for our viewing pleasure. He’s also an excellent writer. He can turn a phrase as good as anyone and he does it in a way that is refreshing and intensely personal. I just adore his blog where he has been jamming french fries into my brain for quite a while. He gets this first award hands down (He also likes Harlan Ellison. WOOT!)

2. For Lack of a Better Word:
Holly is many things. A fan of Ryan Adams, a teacher in a town not much bigger than Hooterville. Former Nashvillian (like myself) and she’s truthful and ethical about the journeys that she has chosen for herself. I read her sometimes and I get the insecurities and the celebrations of her personal victories. Well-written and thought out, her posts sometimes are an internal debate about her new life, and she questions the steps she takes methodically and with a fiery determination. Holly is so worthy of being in your blog roll if she isn’t already.

3. Graceless in Love: Oh, Grace. How I love your blog. Once again, I use the word honest. She talks about her life in the single world, she is frank in her sexuality of dealing with dating and seeking love and acceptance and, you know, sex. And, she is funny. She is damned funny. It’s best to remember that Ms. Grace is not always safe for work (well, never really) but she can create the most interesting dialogue about sex with such self-deprecation that you just can’t help but adore her. I recommend her highly, but will also warn, if you don’t want the NC-17 conversation around you, then you might better go look at some LOL cats.

4. VivaLaLesley: You always know where Lesley stands on an issue. She doesn’t mince words, she has a playful snark about her and she’s genuinely funny. Whether it’s talking about marketing in the modern world, her war against squirrels (HEY, they started it) or what she eats as a hard-core vegetarian, you can find it at Lesley’s place. I had to include her because she also is extremely funny when she is on Twitter and she leaves some of the best comments around the web. And, if you haven’t noticed, she’s been posting some excellent stuff over at Music City Bloggers. She’s amazing and you just need to embrace her Lesleyness.

5. Kathy T. at here, here, here and here. People, this woman is a genius. She lives in LaVergne. She writes for the local paper. She is marketing herself in such a way that is awe-inspiring. I’m sort of a geek when it comes to people taking what they know and presenting it in different formats and I love me some marketing (I’m weird that way). Kathy is brilliant. She writes about motherhood, being a wife, living in an extended family, her job as a real estate agent, Girl Scouts, her brother the musician and all if it is so fresh and true. I consider Kathy one of my dearest buddies on the web, but I’m not including her for that reason. I’m including her because she is revolutionary in utilizing the innertubes in expressing herself honestly (the theme of these awards for me at least.)

I had to give her the recognition that I believe she deserves because she is wicked smart and nice on top of it all.

6. I’M GIVING ANOTHER ONE! Sue me. I’ll go ahead and put in a call to my lawyer. Chez Bez. I have to include Chez Bez. It had to be done. I go every day and read about his children, the thoughts he has in the middle of the night. The love for his wife and family. Our mutual adoration of Tom Waits. His surreal and beautiful photography. He is one of the good guys in the blogosphere and he has an air of mystery about him. And he’s got a great smile and easy disposition that makes you just want to hang out with him. So, Michael, you get this award too because I just couldn’t leave you out.

Guys, there were more. There were a ton more, but these are the folks I chose. They are in feed reader, they keep me coming back for more and they make me reflective.

So many blogs, so little time.

I finally figured out why I love Doctor Who.

Because it doesn’t end. Like Buffy the Vampire Slayer did.

It just doesn’t end.

And, sorry if my nerd card is out, that is wonderful. I watched the Tom Baker Doctor Who episodes but it’s been, **cough, cough**, thirty years ago on the local PBS station when I was about 12.

I love it when I get things. Slow, but by golly, I finally get things. I’ll die eventually, but the BBC will let Doctor Who go on.

Yeah, there is hope in this world. Heh.

I’m cool and sad that way.

Apparently Christopher Walken is running for president as an independent.

Who knew? I honestly didn’t. Here’s some stuff you might want to read if you are interested.

What is Mr. Walken’s party affiliation?
Mr. Walken believes that voters should vote based on the candidates’ platforms, not their party affiliation. At this early stage, we are not affiliated with any political party, nor do we plan to be. Our platform is our message, and that’s what we’re running on. Down the road, if an established party chooses to back Mr. Walken, he may accept.

And then his site has this:

Campaign Finance Reform:
“I believe that campaign finance is a very tough issue, with good points on both sides; but I feel, as a wealthy American, that I should have no more say than even the least fortunate American citizen. Free speech in politics is about the voices of all those who support you, not who supports you with the biggest voice.”

Seriously, who knew.

Of course, Pat Paulsen used to run for president a lot too.

Found this over at Freezertroll’s abode.

Update: Eliyahu called it and I figure it as much but its apparently fake which kind of makes me sad. Aaahh. To see Christopher Walken dance to Fatboy Slim every day in the Oval Office would have made me happy.

It’s been an odd journey these last few weeks. And, it’s catching up with me.

Much of it is challenging, other parts of it, well, very weird.

So, here is a cornucopia of weirdness that you just need to know about my real life. So you can sleep or something, thinking frighteningly about me like you would about a zombie eyeing your mother’s new wig while she is wearing it. On her head, where there are brains.Shut up. It’s my bizarre life. I do what I can.

I had a weird dream last night about a fellow blogger. I dreamed that Jackson Miller, his wife, Sabrina, and I were sitting on a couch watching Austin City Limits (Lyle Lovett was on, if I recall). I asked him to explain Statzen in one sentence. He did and I understood it perfectly. Then we drank some beer. And we talked about existentialism. Did I tell you how cool I was in my dreams? Real life, I suck and am probably considered an infidel. This was a real dream. Every bit of it.

I also dreamed later in my dark, sleep place that I was in a weird place in the middle of the woods. I was asleep in a bed in a log cabin, and when I would open my eyes, I could see silhouettes in the darkness of people standing around my bed that sort of meant me harm in webbed baseball hats, which I could see through bits of light I can only assume where coming from a hallway although I believe it was a bathroom. You know these things in a dream.

I escaped in a canoe because it was odd and disconcerting and escaping in a canoe apparently is what I do in my dream life when I’m being pursed by silhouette people. When I got to civilization, I had a taco. In my real life, I’m not fond of tacos.

Weird.

The last segment of my strange dream was even stranger. I dreamed I was playing soccer against Seth Green, who offered me a dollar a week to come and work on Robot Chicken. My job was to stack eggs. I negotiated my salary up to $1.99.

I woke up then, went to work and I make less than what Seth Green offered me in my dream so I felt very angry this morning until I had my 4th cup of coffee. (I keed, I tease.) Not really.

Also, in the real world, my niece did my hair tonight trying to give me a french braid which she apparently learned at 3 p.m. this afternoon and that I received at 4 p.m.. One side of my head looks like Nellie’s from “Little House on the Prairie.” The other side looks like Bob Marley. I think I look pretty good.

With all of this said, I have a television crush on David Tennant. I love geek boys who will kick your butt and outthink you. If you don’t know what I’m talking about, it’s Doctor Who.

As we descend on Friday night, I must say that I’m delighted that no one tried to have a rational conversation with me today.

I’m home. Home, you know, if of the good.

And, this is an off-kilter annoying autobiographical pause.

And, if you are wondering, yeah, every bit of it is true.

That is why I am an amazingly stable individual, as I can tell you this and move forward in my life like nothing ever happened.

If you talk to me about work this weekend, I will get my whacking stick out and do injury.

I’m glad we understand each other.

I’m not usually violent, but sometimes I must go to extremes to keep the peace.

Mine, of course.

My dear friends at Sports Information at UT Martin, (Trudy, Chris, I’m talking to you), please book these people for the next home Skyhawk football game.

Please, I’m begging you.

H/T to Paul Chenowith via a Twitter update.

 

Because I don’t know what to say, let us let others say it. I honestly don’t know how to express what I feel about this. But I’m going to on in this post.

Roland Martin:

“Fine. So if you’re mad about O.J., are you equally offended about Jena? “

Or this:

The Jena 6 Case is Written in Lightening

Or this, which I commented on over at:

“No, I cannot forget where it is that I come from”

10,000 Monkeys and a Camera is appalled, as I am.

And, then this, which I added after writing this post because I thought it was relevant in explaining that some more of the minute details:

The white student was taken to the hospital and released 2 hours later. The black students were charged with attempted murder and conspiracy to commit murder. Their individual bails were set at between $70,000 and $138,000. The teenagers were in jail for months. According to truthout.org, motions later filed in court allege that LaSalle Parish District Attorney Reed Walters, who prosecuted their cases, had earlier told the students who protested under the “white tree” after nooses were hung there that he could be their “best friend” or their “worst enemy” and could take away their freedom “with a stroke of my pen.” U.S. Attorney Washington told reporters that they were under the jurisdiction of state law and so, unlike the white students who perpetrated the hate crime at the high-school a few months earlier, would be prosecuted.

There is a lot of wrong that happened here. But, I will say this in case some of you who came over here are saying, “Damn, Newscoma! You didn’t have an opinion. You are a progressive and where’s your opinion!?”

But, lets look at what people are saying, shall we? I think we shall. Then, I will pontificate.

The Jena 6 case began last fall when a new black student to the mostly white, rural Louisiana town of Jena sat under the “white tree,” so called because it was the place where the white kids at school congregated.

The next day three white boys on the rodeo team hung three nooses from the tree.

The white boys were only given an in-school suspension, their act deemed no more than a “prank.”

The day after that several of the school’s black high school football stars organized a peaceful silent protest under the tree. The school freaked, called in the police and the next day Reed Walters, the local D.A., addressed the school. There, he is reported to have looked at the black kids in the audience, waved his pen in the air and said, “With a stroke of this pen, I can make your life disappear.”

And, obviously, this story is on racial lines because it is what it is.

It is. And, quite frankly, there is no denying that. And, really, you shouldn’t.

Tennesseans joined the march today as well.

I’ve pondered this for awhile.

Black kids are sitting under a tree called the White Tree. Nooses are hung.

Okay, let’s look at that. Nooses were hung.

Tempers flare. That is more than understandable. I mean, for Pete’s sake, nooses were hung in a tree.

Jeez.

An assault takes place.

Women get beaten every day and they don’t get the “justice” that Mychal Bell got, a sentence of 22 years although now he is looking at reduced charges. I never, in years of working with battered women, got anyone in jail for 22 years and I DID try.

Well, except for the guys that killed their wives.

“A stroke of a pen.” Huh?

The white kids didn’t get charged with anything. And there in lies the problem. Because it wasn’t a “prank.”

It wasn’t. It was more than that.

And with that said, does being complete asshats put you in prison? No, it doesn’t.

Beating another kid, yes. And, yeah, there was a beating which I will not condone here because it was wrong as well.

But I don’t think it was attempted murder, either.

Now, Jesse Jackson and Al Sharpton show up in Jena today and it becomes political. But, it already was political. And, quite frankly, it is political because it’s about the state of racism in this country. Not small town America, although they will get the heat from it, but race. It’s easy to blame things on rural Americans, but the problem is everywhere but Jena is the one that put it on the map at this period of time. Racism happens everywhere. Homophobia happens everywhere. Hate crimes happen everywhere.

But the thing is, if we break it down, was justice served?

The thing is, the answer is no. Because everyone was wrong and stupid. The Judge and the kids.

Nooses: Wrong. Damn wrong

Beating up a kid who’s an asshat and is obviously a racist: Wrong. Damn wrong.

With that said, let me say this.

Hanging a noose up epitomizes things so much, as you folks are smart, that you know. I mean, Nooses. (Can’t really get past that.) Lynches happened in our history in this nation. Imagine if things in your political history occurred and then were brought back in such a horrific way. Lynches represent a lot and the kids who hung those nooses up knew that. They knew it. And, Good Lord, it was wrong. So wrong it makes most of this country and other countries wonder what the hell were these kids thinking to do something so heinous.

But the adults didn’t do much better. And black kids are put in jail on attempted murder charges. And, sorry, it reeks.

And, if someone comes over here says every small town in America is this way, I will yell at you. Seriously.

Don’t stereotype. Break the chain. There are asshat idiots everywhere.

But, with that said, racism exists. And one action sets off another, then another, then another.

And Mychal Bell. He shouldn’t be looking at jail.

It was the system that failed. Because, it considered one action a prank and the other attempted murder.

Here’s my thought: Strange Fruit should never be even implied to swing from a tree. In 2007. Ever … And, a peaceful protest was staged, and then it got ugly because of sitting under the “white” tree.

There was a lot wrong that happened here.
Let’s try to teach the children of this world that we can all live together.

And, trying to justify racism won’t change anything either. So we shouldn’t do it.

And, when I try to explain to my nieces about the history of the noose, or beating up kids you don’t agree with or judges who know the power of the “stroke of their pen” which is just crap, well, I shouldn’t have to explain it in this day and age.

And, alas, I am.

But, I shouldn’t have to.

And that’s the worst thing of all.

None of us should.

And, Nooses.

More than a prank. Much more.

Oh Sam. I have met you once, dug you, felt kinda weird thinking you were so groovy where I went into Newscoma is a freak-mode, tried not to cuss around you because I’m a potty mouth, cussed I think and then I continued to read you (as I am wont to do) and now after reading you over time, I’m taught I should probably be on my best behavior ALL the time instead of just some of the time.

Man, I am what I am.

But, let me say I think you get it. Really get it. More so than most folks.

Especially when I’m the leader of young people. And, man, I fail.

Then I read stuff like this and I have a bit of hope:

Don’t even act like you don’t want to tell young people about what you’re doing. Whether you’re feeding the hungry, housing the homeless, or curing the sick, you want young people involved. They bring a certain energy and charisma to a volunteer opportunity or event. They tell their friends about what they did with you. And, if they like helping you out, you might have them involved for a very long time.

But how can you get your message out to them?

And, the cool thing about Sam is he will guide you on some things on what to do.

Sam, thanks man.

You really are groovy and if I lived in Nashville, I would seek your counsel daily.

1. Don’t eat that. GROSS, don’t eat that. Dammit… blegh. YOU MADE THAT! Argh, buluh, gargh.
2. Get off of her!!!! (All my dogs are girls. You get the picture. I have very gay dogs and I approve and love them and condone their actions.)
3. Mabel, quit licking me.
4. Mabel, get off my computer.
5. Mabel, quit smelling that.
6. Mabel, don’t bite Duff (who I don’t write about a lot. She is referred to as the smelly dog. We don’t know why. You can wash her. Still smelly. There is always some interaction between her and Mabel for my affection. Usually when I’m in the bathroom.)
7. KIRBY!!! (in reference to the blind dog named after drag queen Eve Kirby/Kirby Puckett (diverse tastes in my home) who I’ve had for over 11 years. I got her the day before my first niece was born. Homer, the sis, claims she sent her into labor. She walks into things as, you know, she’s blind but we follow her and scratch her back as it slows her down. She’s amazing and fast although she can’t see you. You must scream her name quite a bit to get her not to endanger herself.)
8. JURA! (An odd dog, big as a house. Friendly to people who live in the domain. Not so friendly to people who live out of the abode. Must be watched. I think she likes me though, but I’m afeared.)
9. I gag a great deal when they are doing dog things, as they are dogs and have no manners. Is gagging the same thing as talking? Well, no. But there is a noise made so I’ll just take that and run with it.
10. I’m going to share with you a secret. When I hug people (and, yes, I’m damn huggy. I will hug you if I meet you. I do not want to just show up on your doorstep so don’t think I will (and don’t show up on mine), I don’t want your money. I don’t even want your body or if I do you will never know (ROWR) but I’m huggy. I lived in Europe for Pete’s sake. Learned the huggy/kiss on the cheek think and I LOVE it.) Now, with that said, if I hug you, Mabel will bark. And bark. And then bark a bit more. If I hug a niece, barking. If I hug SQ, barking. My sis, barking. And if you say you love me in a baby voice, she will jump on you and bark. Or sometimes she will bark, and steal food off my plate if I’m not looking which has nothing to do with hugging but she will do it nonetheless. Very ill-mannered but I like her. Not that anyone is going to say they love me in baby voice, but you get the picture. She’s going to bark. And, for a little short cardigan Corgi/rat terrier, she has a very LOUD bark.

Yeah, tonight, I got nothing.