Newscoma

Oh Memphis. How I love you!

A person was shot while pumping gas at a Memphis filling station Monday evening.

Officials said the shooting happened shortly before 6:00 p.m at the BP station near Crump and Mississippi Boulevard in Memphis. As the victim was pumping gas, he was approached by two suspects, one of whom shot him.

After the shooting, the suspects fled the scene. Moments later, their car was pulled over by an officer on routine patrol, after the officer spotted them running a red light.

The suspects jumped out of their car and ran. Police are still actively searching for them.

Police said the suspects go by the names “Butter Roll” and “Corn Roll.”

You cannot make this up. Next time I see Butter Roll and Corn Roll, I will contact the police immediately.

I am now known as Coma Roll.

For the record, the victim is all right.

As everyone I know is sick:

[youtube=[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JGb5IweiYG8&rel=1]

Peggy Lee’s Fever, well, that would be a better kind of fever than the one we all have.

Man, this smokes me.

(Fan vids make me smile.)

John McCain’s daughter has a blog.

It’s sort of what you would expect.  And, in all fairness, it’s pretty entertaining. It’s commercialized and obviously is about putting McCain in a human light.

But, with that said, it needs to be noted if politicians on both sides of the political aisle where smart, they’d be doing this.

And I’m a leftie saying this.

H/T The Political Voices of Women 

And, alas, I’m feeling just a tad bit old hearing that news.

This is hardcore:

In January of 897, Pope Stephen VI (also known as Stephen VII) had the body of Formosus exhumed and ordered to stand trial for various church crimes. Formosus’ corpse, which had spent the previous seven months interred in St. Peter’s Basilica, was dressed in papal vestments and propped into a chair to attend the proceedings. A teenage deacon was assigned to stand behind the corpse and speak for him.

The post over at Mental Floss is actually about six restless corpses that really aren’t finding a place to lay their weary spirits and what’s going on with their dead bodies. I don’t keep up with much with pope history but that seems pretty extreme. But I got all interested in The Cadaver Synod and have been reading about it.

One thousand one hundred and four years ago a criminal trial took place in Italy, a trial so macabre, so gruesome, so frightful that it easily qualifies as the strangest and most terrible trial in human history.  At this trial, called the Cadaver Synod, a dead pope wrenched from the grave was brought into a Rome courtroom, tried in the presence of a successor pope, found guilty, and then, in the words of Horace K. Mann’s The Lives of the Popes in the Early Middle Ages (1925), “subjected to the most barbarous violence.”

That is some weird stuff.

I really should have paid attention in school.

Being self-aware is an odd, disconcerting thing.

I know more folks who AREN’T self-aware than I know of those who are. The way we view ourselves and how others view us are usually two different things. Then again, we go through processes of when we see things clearly and it hits us like a sack of quarters upside the head.

When these moments happen, there isn’t usually a refund.

Kevin at Pointless Banter had one of those moments over the weekend at Best Buy with a cheerful salesperson while buying a washer and dryer. Perky sales girl brought up about the long-term ramifications of buying appliances, which for right now are just for him. She asked him about the “what ifs” of his purchase:

Holy sh*t! She is totally right, but what about everything else? Is my car a good family car? I don’t think my drawers and cabinets are child proof, not to mention my electrical outlets! Do I have enough room? Plus I am on the second floor, I am going to need a baby gate.

I was just here to buy a washer and dryer and now I am totally evaluating my life.

He then asks a good question.

“What do you think was the unofficial moment you became an adult?”

I can’t, honestly, off the top of my head come up with an answer on this one. Could be I’m an old broad, sicker than crap right now and the brain may not be getting oxygen. But it’s true. There are those official moments when you know you’ve been tossed into adultdom and you know it. Illness of a parent or making long-term lifetime commitments are the obvious choices of when we do “Crap, I’m a damned adult. Get me out of here.”

But there are those small moments that open up the muddy waters and we see the the path of our own development and mortality.

And if we are honest, it’s almost a moment of temporarily drowning in our own souls.

Don’t mind me being all philosophical this morning.

I have grown fangs during my restless sleep due to the steroids last night. This might even be my last day of living in the sun forging into a life in the darkness like an emphysemic vampire.

I probably need to avoid the debates tonight due to this pesky bronchitis. I might toss the recliner at the television.

You know, bunnies reenacting movies just never gets old for me.

Courtney Love live-blogs the Oscars. Go take a gander.

Squirrel Queen live-blogs the Oscars. Go take a gander.

One can communicate quite eloquently. The other cannot.

That’s all I’m saying.

Dear Friends, Family, Strangers, Blogreaders, Woman At Fred’s Earlier, Anyone Else,

I do not have fluchitis™ but instead a nasty bout of Bronchitis and some kind of pulmonary infection that has a name that just pissed me off because I can’t remember it. All I know is I’m not expanding/collapsing right but it should be okay.

I took some antibiotics that didn’t apparently agree with me and that was why I thought I had the flu as it made me sick as a dawg. My cool nurse practitioner was very sweet and gave me an entire steroid pack to take over the week as well as groovy cough syrup, a new much better antibiotic (that won’t make me hurl) and some weird inhaler that tastes like what I imagine the inside of an operating room might be flavored.

I’m supposed to apologize to you ahead of time if I’m:

• cranky
• bitchy (which is the new black I hear.)
• pissy
• grouchy
• irate
• outraged over small things like the color of your socks
• manic
• insane
• shouting profanities
• short-tempered

As I found this on Twitter in one of Jagadiah’s tweets, I think if you see me with one, you might want to run.

Your usually kind host will be back later in the week. Oh, I’m still gonna blog, but I’m just not guaranteeing niceties until then. My patience is the size of an amoeba.

And my chief staff writer was throwing up in a trashcan this morning with the flu as we are always understaffed and bless her heart as did our page designer who also came in anyway, so I’m going to work but it will be on a short schedule this week. (Bad long sentence I know. Shut up.)

Just bring me dark chocolate truffles and tread lightly and I will put away the chainsaw.

Kthanxbai,

Newscoma

To see Josh Grobin swear makes me laugh. This whole thing just makes me giggle and Brad Pitt as the Fed Ex Guy is inspiring. And the “We Are The World” montage just is funny.

[youtube=[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j_pFTAY7MF8&rel=1]

So Not Safe For Work, although it is edited.

“This is not a mancrush,” croons Robin Williams and McLoving? Harrison Ford getting down.

Hysterical.

As you know, I’m not a fan of the Titanic movie that swept the Oscars and made most of my friends who did love it into weeping masses of romantic goo which is fine.

Where were the zombies?

But, I do love Mystery Science Theater 3000.

Squirrel Queen is liveblogging the events on champagne and Pringles over at her house just for the hell of it.

I leave you with MST3K explaining the Academy Awards and Titanic.

[youtube=[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=f0uz53cl1W4&rel=1]

We have brought Russ McBee to the darkside.

Heh.