Have you ever had a physical condition that makes you really feel like a disgusting example of a human? I've got one of those right now. A gift from my poor baby kitty.

Ringworm is a mis-named condition, having nothing to do with worms. It is more closely related to athlete's foot or jock itch, you know, a fungus. I don't know if having a fungus is really any better than having worms - they both sound nasty.

Buster is barely even affected by this - his neck and feet itch him for about 5 seconds a day, and his fur is patchy in places. He gets to take chicken-flavored medicine, and eat wet cat food (which I was hoping to avoid ever feeding him). I, on the other hand, get to walk around with big red itchy spots and be coated non-stop with jock itch cream. Lovely.

WORMS

I have spent most of my day here at work reading the Rockstar:INXS message boards (no mean feat when you have dial-up), which means it's freakin' slow here. The venomous wrath and hatred expressed on those boards is hilarious - almost rivals the boards I've read about politics. We're talking about several relatively talented people auditioning to be the lead singer of a band that has been off the radar for quite some time and you'd think it was a life-and-death decision:
JD SUCKS!!!
NO HE DOESN"T - MARTY SUX!!!
YOU ALL SUCK!!! MIG IS THE ONE!!!!
Third grade stuff.
Then someone starts an intelligent thread and it's great for a while, but ultimately descends to juvenile vitriol, but in lower case letters with a better vocaulary:
Stop bashing me! I have a right to express the opinion that JD is a revolting jerk and lacks talent.
Do you know JD personally? I have a friend who knows both JD and Marty, and the fact is that Marty ultimately has the least talent and most horrible personality.
I'm sorry to disagree, and we all have a right to our opinion, but you are both insane. Only MiG has the talent and agreeable personality to front INXS.
I think it would be an excellent thesis topic for anthro or psych majors to study the behavior of anonymous communication.
Porn to follow...

Oy - I am suffering from kitten-induced sleep deprivation and too long of hours so forgot my post. Sorry!

Anyway, my art group is looking for a webdesign person to do a fairly simple website for us. We would need a home page and several individual artist pages that would link from home. No animation or fancy-schmancy stuff. We would also need to be able to have it maintained, either by the web person or by us using templates (none of us know a lick of HTML). Cost is somewhat an issue, of course, and we need a secure, non-fly-by-night server location. More details will be worked out later but I wanted to give an overview.

If you or anyone you know might be interested in this please email me at matadecoco2001@hotmail.com.

Keep your fingers crossed for me - I may be heading back to porn world. Not as hard-core as before but probably more fun.

So, the best part of the Sonoma Fair was this. He was in the Humane Society display truck, and was still there the second week so I had to get him.

There were gorgeous gorgeous cows, bulls, sheep and goats. The food was amazing, very well done for that kind of venue, and the children's art exhibit was phenomenal. I wanted to buy a bunch of stuff but of course kid's art is rarely for sale.

KITTENS

Sorry for the late post and no title (I'm at work). I was fiddling around till the wee hours working on a geocities web site for myself and forgot my blog.

The fair has been fun - two more days and so next week I'll give you a full report. The food! I've never eaten so much meat in one day..... And the cows! such lovely creatures.

This week my boss has coralled me into working a booth at the Sonoma County Fair. I don't know, when I go to the fair, buying a sewing machine isn't at the top of my list of activities, but I guess my company does well. WhenI go to the fair, my thoughts are on various disgusting and decadent food items, like corn dogs and fudge; on rides that promise to end your life; on funky exhibits of foodstuffs and barn animals; on finding boys to flirt with. Except for maybe the food part, I won't get to do any of these things. Whaa...
Even if I run into this boy, I tink I'll pass. How did he get into porn? Yokel.

COUNTY FAIR GAME

I have gotten all nostalgic for shooting pictures on (gasp) film. I have a funky little camera made my Lomo that I love,

so I dragged that out of exile, as well as my Ricoh Shotmaster and my Lomo Action Sampler
(4 shots per frame, in sequence). I have also gotten in an ebay frenzy and got a really cute vintage 35mm camera made by Argus (a beige version of this camera was in a Harry Potter movie):



I also just won a Fujica ST701 SLR to replace my much-loved Fujica from whenI was a pup. Somebody stole it and it made me not want to take pictures for a long time. On top of that, my Dad is sending me his old Pentax SLR, which is a thrill beyond thrills. I found out yesterday that Dad is slipping and is on his way to The Home, so I think my stepmom will be the one sending it when all this upheaval has settled down. I'm not going to mention it for a while - priorities do not involve sending me an old camera right now.

So, all I have to do is remember to actually CARRY one of these millions of cameras and I'll be in good shape. I keep missing really good pics - saw a shot of a sailboat floating in front of pink sunset-tinged fog in the bay on my way home - spectacular. I would have had to get offa the bridge to take a picture, though, so I guess that will have to stay a mental snapshot.

I have a digital camera for this kinda stuff:

CAMERA SUTRA

My head is all over the map these days. I'm really tired, that deep tired that happens when you work all the time and don't take vacations. Weekends don't do the trick anymore - by the time I get myself to the point of realizing I have a couple days off, they're already over. Trying to plan a vacation with the man, but since he never called me back about it I may be on my own. I'll get outta here before the summer is over, though, even if I have to count Indian Summer.

So, the thing that kept me sane this week is, of all things, a reality show. I don't like them, never have; watched one season and a few extra episodes of Survivor, because of Rupert, and a couple of episodes of other ones, like Amazing Race and Fear Factor. Avoid all the bachelor/bachelorette/marry my dad/Joe Geek types like the plague. I watch a few of the documentary-ish ones, but those are different. I decided to watch Rock Star INXS. The premise is that 15 hand-picked folks are auditioning to replace whats-his-name who died of auto-erotic strangulation. I was happy from the get-go that hottie Dave Navarro is on it as the sort of intermediary guy; at least I'd have someting to gaze upon if all else failed. Maybe it is my current fragile state, or PMS, but I thoroughly enjoyed the show. I consider myself "hooked", and am already rooting for 3 contestants. Who'd a thunk it?

They don't have one of these, though. Their loss...

ROCK'N'ROLL MIDGET

The other night I was at work pretty late - didn't get out till 10 pm cause I was working on something I needed for the Embroidery Club meeting the next morning. It was kinda worth it, cause on the way home I got to see one of the most magnificant moons ever, really huge for that late, and that lovely cream-color that makes it so mystical. Then, I saw a red flash, and when I looked over I saw fireworks coming from the ball park. I got my own full moon and fireworks show all at once, while driving over that beautiful bridge I get to cross twice a day (I have a truly beautiful commute that I never get tired of: along the beach, past the Legion of Honor, through Seacliff, through the Presidio, onto the bridge, through the Rainbow tunnel and into Marin - micro-climates galore). Who needs the 4th of July crowds? So what if I was going 30 in a 45 and everybody was passing me? Those folks need to slow down and catch the beautiful sights they are missing. You all have a glorious 4th, now.
PORN ON THE 4TH OF JULY

The Tsunami warning the other night was kind of a kick. The biggest kick was watching the media grasp at straws to create drama where there was none. Living at the beach I guess I should have paid attention and gone to higher ground but I have a feeling this is going to turn out to be a wolf-crying thing. I will flee for no reason enough times that finally I won't flee and will float away.
on.
WAVES OF PASSION

Lee's rant reminded me of a commercial for Travelocity that has been on lately, which is about how they will fix any problem you may encounter with your travel arrangements, which leads me to believe that Lee Lee the Musical Bee is not alone! Many many others must have had horrific adventures because of Travelocity safus. Travelocity is too late, though; those people will never go back and have told all their friends.

Then I started thinking about other commercials. Like the one for GM's Employee Discount, with all these proud GM employees. Too bad they all picked up a pink slip this week.

And am I the only one who is completely freaked out by the Burger King guy? If I woke up to some big plastic king in my bed, I would be in the psych ward for a month or more. Why aren't any of these people screaming, or clubbing him with the nearest crowbar? Creeeepy. Brrrr.

COMMERCIAL WORLD

I'm watching the Eagles on tv and I'm sorry but Joe Walsh is a truly ugly guy. He's always been ugly, but some ugly guys, like Jack Palance, get better-looking with age. Not Joe. J like the music, though, and that's what counts. "Rocky Mountain Way" still has the most singable guitar solo of all.

Ok, that's not my rant. Neither is this: my sister lives in Laguna Beach. She says that if the slides get any worse she will have to add a hardhat to her work attire. Pretty amazing. Maybe housing there will become affordable and we can all go bask in the sun on the cheap.

Mostly my rant is about the wierd things that go through your mind when you are in the grip of a fever. My fever dreams were primarily religious in nature - I had just read a book about Noah's Ark and I was frantically trying to make room for myself on it. Not sleeping, you know, but lost somewhere. Thrashing thrashing. I have a minor infatuation with a lovely Greek Orthodox monk, flowing robes, flowing hair, buying a sewing machine, and that kind of played into it. I thought maybe I was being punished for having semi-impure thoughts about a man of the cloth, but that was fleeting. Thrashing thrashing. Able to feel every inch of my skin against the sheet. Every tiny stubble on my legs was like a thorn. Make room, the Ark is full, the rains are coming. Squish the pillows to make room. Please can I sleep now? Talking to the Others, nobody there. Two nights I was tortured by this. (Health tip of the week: don't start drinking gallons of fruit juice until you know whether or not your affliction has intestinal ramifications). Anyway, my mental acuity is at a bit of a low, hence:
TOO HOT FOR PORN

Okay, so I got Felix all set up, except they gave me the wrong kind of printer so I had to go get that taken care of but everything is okay.

I did have quite a time putting my table together. Each leg had 5 phillips-head screws and the principle was very simple - screw the metal leg holders to the tabletop, then screw in the legs. What they fail to mention is that the screws are so freakin' cheap that each turn of the driver actually routs out the screw head until you can no longer turn the screws. I was leaning in with all my might, sweat popping from my brow, to make a quarter turn.

Now, I had borrowed the screwdriver from my housemates to begin with. They had been hanging curtain rods all morning so had the tools out. I staggered upstairs to complain about the screws and moan that what I needed was a drill with driver bits. Not only did they have the bits, they had been using MY DRILL! I went back down and zzzttt zzzttt zzztt all done. God Almighty. My palms are still bruised.

SCREWED TIGHT

Well, the decision has been made. Buddy is having his final days as my computer and Felix will be taking over soon. I am naming him after Felix the Cat, who had that nice bag of magic and friends named Poindexter and Vavoom. Am I the only person who remembers Vavoom? He had such a loud vavoom holler he could fell trees. I had to become an adult before knowing that Master Cylinder was a car part and not just a Felix villain. I used to watch Felix in Ohio on a show hosted by Chuck Jones the Magic Man. Not to be confused with Chuck Jones the animator.

(I haven't seen a pic of him till just now. Looks just the same.)
Anyway I am naming my new computer Felix because Felix is cool and magical and has smart, efficient sidekicks. And hopefully won't decide to be more like this girl...
FELIX VICIOUS


This chick reminds me way too much of Mariah Carey.

I recently came into a little unexpected cash from my grandma's estate. I thought there wouldn't be anything left after her insurance fiaso and health care costs. After being so strapped for so long it is wierd to have money in the bank. I can pay off my car, get caught up with some things.

Yesterday I found myself shopping for a new computer. Mine has been unstable for a while and I have fallen out of love with it, kind of like when I fell out of love with my car Spike when he broke down on Christmas Eve several years ago and I bought Bonny. My computer's name is Buddy. How can I get rid of Buddy?? What can I name a new computer that has the emotional impact and trustworthiness of "Buddy"? Fido? Spot? I guess I'll think of something but I am having separation anxiety. Not to mention not looking forward to starting over with an unfamiliar operating system. I have been backing everything up for a few months in anticipation of the big crash, so have all my photos, documents, 10-second porn clips.

Anyway, it is nice to have this money, and I am hoping I do what Grams would have wanted me to do. Well, she would want me to bank it all. I am banking some. But not ALL...

IN THE MONEY

Have you ever done a big expensive shop at Safeway (or other big market) only to find that you have nothing to eat? Maybe a block of cheese if you're lucky. Happens to me more than I like. I must get sidetracked by all the junk food. I tend to buy my produce elsewhere because the prices are too high for what is ultimately tasteless fruit. Last week I started a small crusade to improve my eating habits, inspired in part by being a blob and in part by tips given in the book "French Women Don't Get Fat". I went shopping at Rainbow Grocery, which has always made me quake in fear of the sticker shock. Imagine my surprise when, for the same horrifying sum I usually spend for no food, I got tons of food! I have food in the house! I can fix a little something for my mid-morning yogurt snack, fix a lunch to take if I want, and have ingredients to throw something actually yummy together for dinner. For several days! What a revelation! I got this little melon called an Ambrosia that was a delight with every sweet bite.

Speaking of melon, this is just WRONG! I may never eat watermelon again. Boys.
FOOD FUCK

Yay! I'm back. My phone was plagued by static for the last couple days, which meant my dsl didn't work either. Calling the 611 repair line is a small dose of Hell. Feel free to skip this if you have been through it. First you have to make sure you press the option for repair. Then they give you the option of listening to some sales pitch or other(no, thanks). Then they automatically test your line and come back to tell you there is something wrong and do you want it fixed (duh). When you press yes they launch into about a twelve minute caution about how much it will cost you if it isn't their fault. Then they give you the option for a 4-hour window, which turns out to actually be an 11-hour window, 8 am to 7 pm. Fine fine fine, whatever, just freakin' get out here. Except I'm not ever talking to a person. So the guy calls me and tells me he called my number and it was fine and talked to somebody who would be home if I still wanted him to go out there. I put him on hold and called my number (thank God for 2 lines at work), which was completely static. So he went out. He of course called back when I was at lunch and he had fixed the problem, which was, of course, on the pole. He also confessed to calling the wrong number earlier, which was actually good, because if he had talked to someone at my house then I may have been getting robbed by somebody cheeky enough to answer the phone.
CALL ME

RRRRRRR
My computer is getting old and arthritic and has a hard time getting up in the morning. Today it wouldn't boot successfully after about 4 tries so I gave up. I'm having a paranoia that the latest "update" that loaded from Microsoft was really a thing that would force me to upgrade to Windows XP because my Me won't work anymore. Of course now they are supposedly coming out with a new Windows OS, called Firehose or Gangsta or Delusion or some such thing (I also heard Mac is coming out with a 5th version of OS X so you guys aren't safe either). They just can't stop with the goddam tinkering, can they? Pray for me.

In other news, I joined Netflix (to further enable my current Rourke obsession explained last week). I knew it was cool but I had no idea. I have drilled down to the most obscure of Japanese wierdo psycho bloodbath movies, and they just keep coming up with more. I never knew you could watch the trailer, get all the user and pro reviews, etc. I figured I had just spent 12.99 on 3 DVDs that I could only keep 5 days, so why not spend 17.99 for an endlessly revolving supply? I am always the last to know.

Unfortunately, since I am at work and tiny kidlets are roaming freely, I cannot go to the porn site for a title.
RRRRRRRRRRR

I went to see Sin City on Friday. All I can say is
Mickey Rourke
Mickey Rourke
Mickey Rourke!!!
I liked everybody else too and liked the movie enough to want to see it again already but Mickey ruled. I used to like Mickey years ago and then something happened that made him repellent to me so I stopped paying attention. I knew he had gotten knocked around in a failed re-entry into boxing and had really bad plastic surgery and the next time I noticed him was in The Rainmaker but it took a while to figure out who he was (I momentarily thought he was John Cassavetes until I remembered he was dead). So his performance in Sin City has been a bit of a revelation. When he first came on screen my instinct was to think that he had taken the whole plastic surgery thing a bit too far and then realized it was, you know, makeup. You never know these days.
This isn't really porn, but it tried.
9 1/2 WEEKS

My mom recommended that I listen to Air America on 960 AM The Quake. I don't like talk radio - never have. Radio = music. Maybe enough to news to keep me informed of the important stuff, like duck and cover. But all that yakking on talk radio just drives me nuts. Manny has that on his clock radio in the morning and these guys incorporate themselves into my dreams until nothing makes sense and then I wake up to the same scenario and I get confused. Nonetheless I tuned in while I was driving to appease my mom and see what was what. Well, I have to say that it is kind of relaxing to realize that my friends and I are not the only rational people out there. Al Franken has a show, as does Janeane Garofalo., Robert Kennedy, Jr., and Steve Earle (The Revolution Starts Now). Since I only listen here and there during drive times I don't hear all the shows or all the hosts, but I dig it.
AIR EROTICA


dang this is dinky

The guys upstairs have been married for a year - is it really a year already?? Yeesh. There has been some bickering. Full-volume, dish-throwing bickering. Mostly the one screaming at the other (for example, the other went to tell the one that he should come to bed so he could be sure to get up on time. This somehow initiated a full-blown fest, which woke me up, it being 2 a.m. My reaction was to lie in bed seething and wishing I had the nerve to storm upstairs and club the one with an iron skillet. What prompted the tantrum is a mystery to both the other and me, and the other is getting tired of being picked on). Anyway, life has been a bit grim, since I never quite know when it is safe to go upstairs and play with my sewing machine, or even say hello. Plus, the one is failing to respond to the landlady about a tree that needs to come down, because he hates her (meaning is scared of her) and I'm scared she'll take action against us. Not looking forward to living in my car, which is what would happen if I got thrown out. I hope eventually we find out what the one is so mad about.
LINGERIE SEX FIGHTS

When I was a kid, if you didn't wear green on St. Patrick's day, you got pinched. The rude boys would pinch haaaarrrrddd. I would be scouring my outfit to find a speck of green in a little leaf or anywhere. Some years I would fail to produce my green armor and get bruises all over my arms. I'd try to affix a leaf or clump of grass to myself to avoid the torture. Horrible. Of course I would retaliate on the years I did wear green, and pinch the daylights out of anyone I could. Nowadays, anytime I have tried to pinch somebody I've gotten threatened with a lawsuit.

F**KED IN IRELAND (keepin' it clean)
(until you look at the picture)

I just read a really fun book called "Candyfreak" by Steve Almond. It is a true book, and a rant in the absolute best sense. The guy is consumed by his devotion to candy, and he goes all over to visit little candy companies. He couldn't visit the big ones, because all the Willy Wonka espionage stuff is true; even the repairmen have to be blindfolded until they are placed in front of the machines.

If you have any sort of candy jones (or "freak"), or any fond childhood memories of some kind of candy you forgot about, or quest for, or reminisce about, pick it up. I got it out of the library the same day I watched "Supersize Me" and "Fat Actress"; kind of a media food day. Of course, you can't read this book without actually having to eat some candy, so beware.

He covers such regional rarities as the Idaho Spud (which sounds downright revoltin') and the famous GooGoo Cluster, as well as the elusive and messy Valomilk. He is an ectomorph, which means that although he eats major amounts of candy, he stays thin, which means I hate him.

Today, at the recommendation of Mr. Almond, I picked up a few bars made by the Lake Champlain company. They are about the only candy he writes about that I can easily get my hands on. Well, kind of easily, if shopping for anything at Whole Paycheck (a.k.a. Whole Foods) is easy, especially in Me Valley (a.k.a. Mill Valley). They have several varieties of big flat chocolate bars, and these fat squatty bars called Five Star that come in 4 flavors, of which I found 2. Steve's recommendation was most astute, as these chocolates are pretty great. Check 'em out.

A TASTE OF CANDY

I am going to step on the Linkey-Loo coordinator's toes a bit, because I have a link instead of a title. It is, however, very much related to my position here as porn robot. Don't be scared, but you will have the dubious pleasure of viewing some pretty nasty, although non-human, sexual objects. When I worked at Gamelink (the porn place that started all this), the customers always asked what these looked like. I'm kinda glad I didn't have this to show them, because our inventory would have rotted. There are a couple I almost want to have as art objects. Almost.

Whew, almost didn't make it! I got all wound up last night in the last hour of the last Project Runway and forgot my rant. Shut down my computer this morning saying "doh!" as I remembered my rant, but too late. I came late to Project Runway and am sorry now that I missed so much. I'm not into the reality shows, you know, except for an occasional foray into Survivor, and a peek now and again at some of the wierder ones (I confess I love Dawg the Bounty Hunter). However, seeing as how I am peripherally in the fashion industry, this one was fun. As usual I rooted for the hated Wendy Pepper - I liked that she was upfront about cutting everyone's throat from the get-go. I knew she wouldn't win, but I rooted nonetheless. I hated Kara, especially wen she pretended not to understand her breaking the rules about the shoes. I was glad when one of her models almost took a header getting tange=led up in a dress. The guy who won, though, Jay. I knew he'd win the second his models stepped on the runway. This finale would be the water-cooler topic here at Joann's except we don't have a water-cooler.
SHAMELESS SELF-PROMO
I am in an art show again, this time in Pacifica at the Sanchez Art Center. It's hanging until 4/9. I don't have the deets here at work but I'll post them later.
FASHIONABLY LAID (hee hee)

My sister and I have become huge afficionados of dog shows. We watched Westminster over the last two nights (unfortunately since several hundred miles separate us we weren't actually together) and it was quite fun and educational. They give a good overview of how each dog relates to people, like how the Scottie displays obvious superiority to its people, and Bull Terriers will join you on the couch after an active puppyhood. I have a hard time believing that dogs are all the same species. Look at a Chinese Crested next to a Neapolitan Mastiff and you'll see what I mean.


Chinese Crested


Neapolitan Mastiff (this was the breed that plays Fang in Harry Potter)

How can these both be classed as "dogs"??? Cats don't have as much variation. Long hair, short hair, long face, squishy face, but all around the same basic size and shape. Definitely cats. Even the Big Cats pretty much look like cats.
Here is another example, and then I rest my case:


BARK LIKE A DOG
off the leash and on your bone!!!

I was in Borders the other day and picked up the book "He's Not That Into You" which is an extension of a bit done on Sex and the City. After reading some of it I wanted to go home and put my head in the oven. According to the folk who wrote this book, no man I have ever been involved with in my whole life has been into me, present honey included (present honey has, after 4-1/2 years, something going, but he is most definitely not into me by the definitions presented). Actually, if a man treated me like the men who are into one is supposed to treat one, I would probably think he was a stalker or a nut. Anyway, on that note, Valentine's Day is coming. I had a date sort of near/on V-day once, I think, when I was about 20. I don't get cards from anyone but family and the occasional girlfriend. I send them dutifully every year, because hope springs eternal. I was much relieved to hear that my sister never has dates, either - this year is the first and the guy thought she was telling him the hotels would be booked because of President's Day, so even the new Mr. Perfect is semi-clueless. My sister is a gorgeous creature who has men hovering in her vicinity at all times, so hearing that she has also been bereft on V-day was a boost to my esteem. It's all a hoax I know but I'm such a hopeless romantic.
STUPID CUPID

My mom and I went to the Golden Gate Kennel Club Dog Show at the Cow Palace last Sunday. I always love the dog show, especially this one - it is a "benched" show, which means the dogs are on display for the weekend, and not just bouncing around the show ring. The best part is that you can pretty much fondle all the dogs. I enjoy the judging, and can't imagine having to choose a "best of breed" from the morass of identical golden retrievers. My mom said they looked like computer cut-outs. I was petting all the dogs, and noticed my mom wasn't petting any of them and when I asked her about it she said she was afraid she would weaken. She found her weakness in a wonderful wire-haired daschund. We did manage to get out of there puppy-free.

We followed up with a visit to a Samoan eatery out there on Geneva a couple blocks toward Bayshore from the C.P. gate. Interesting food, and if you are gastronomically adventurous, worth a visit. Lots of meats and starches. I would go closer to a traditional mealtime than mom and I did, because it is cafeteria-style and some of the food was a little tired at 3:00.

None of the dog handlers were dressed like this. Maybe dog shows would be better attended if they did. (p.s. this is one of my personal favorites of porn, although too stylish for cut-to-the-chase types.)
DOG WALKER

So I have to say that I was in porn title mode until I found out last night that my Grandma died. It was past due, and the first words out of my mouth were "well, good for her!", since she had been on the path for some time. Her body refused to give out on her for years after her stroke, so she spent a fair amount of time being frustrated by her own speech. I hope I am in as fine a form as she was at her age. She was 93 and still strong and quite good-looking. She once told the doctor she wanted to die and he pretty much told her to give up that idea, that except for the stroke she was fit as a fiddle.

My Grandma, Florence, played a great part in my upbringing. I spent much of my toddler-hood and almost every summer until I was 16 (once we had moved to California) at one or another of her homes. Most of my toddlerhood memories are in her house in Wadsworth, Ohio, and I cannot smell a daffodil without blasting right back into that yard. It was she who had to cope with me ripping open the roof of my mouth with a wooden flute, and she who tended my first bee sting. She made me a box kite one spring, and flew it. She and my Grandpa also fed me beer and ice cream until I spewed forth like Mount Vesuvius on my home doorstep, so she wasn't exactly a saint. She was an alcoholic until an ulcer stopped that activity, and replaced the beer with ice cream and chocolate "dope", and bottles of Pepsi. After my Grandpa died, she married her sister's widower, and after he died, she moved to California. She took to drinking whisky again, which improved her temperament.

She always had a special place in her heart for me, since we spent so much time together. I found out recently that she thought my cousin was a lying bitch, so maybe that's why she liked me. She read bodice-rippers but couldn't tolerate sex on screen, loved See's chocolates and sweets in general, could do that thing with one eyebrow going up and down, was incredibly racist and used the "n" word even when she had friends who were African-American, was the only one worried about me in the 1989 earthquake, had these ice-blue eyes that could bore into you like a drill, and hated anyone to see her without her teeth even in the nursing home.

So, no porn title this week, but thank you for letting me tell you a little about Florence Johnston Blough Shriener.

I was in Laguna Beach when the storm hit that brought a record number of inches to L.A. My sister's place is very window-y, and it was fun to watch the lightning and the trees whipping around. At one point the wind was really whistling, and my sister called out from her room "It's a twistah!"

Fortunately, it calmed down yesterday long enough for me to drive home without much incident. Saw snow on the Grapevine, and lots and lots of rainbows.

DVINE (LUV) CAVE #3 " STORM BRINGER "

Years ago I found an album (on vinyl - YEARS ago) by a guy named Stevan Pasero that was the Nutcracker played on classical guitar. It was pretty amazing and I gave it to a guitarist friend of mine, intending to purchase it again for myself. Of course, I never found it again (I just ordered it on CD from Amazon, although I have heard it is out of print). It did inspire a small quest of finding unusual versions of the Nutcracker for my Christmas listening pleasure. I have it by a mandolin group, played on toy instruments, by the Brian Setzer Orchestra, Duke Ellington's version, and my favorite, Spike Jones. Not to be confused with the more current Spike Jonze although they both have their quirks. The problem with Spike Jones is that once you hear his version you are ruined for life. Example: to the tune of the Dance of the Flutes: "D'ja ever see a tin flute dancing? Hmm? Ever see a piccolo could dance a jig? Here's the song they dance to when they get a chance to, it's a kind of a rinky-dinky ending with a whirligig." Can't ever take it seriously again.
NUTT CRACKERS

My poor little computer at home is a bit sick-ish. I think it just needs a good registry clean-up but until then it takes longer to boot it up than to write my rant. Therefore, I am writing this in rather too public a space to look at porn. I am afraid I cannot provide a title for you, much less a pic. So sorry. Better luck next week. In the meantime, to paraphrase Scoop Nisker, if you don't like the porn, go out and make some of your own.

Working inside Joann's I get the Christmas spirit really early. I'm glad I like Christmas and all its trappings and corny music or I'd be in Hell. You'd think that with my early indoctrination I'd have some of my shopping/gift making done. Nope. Not even started. Well, I've started in my head, which for me is half the battle. I have a list of who is getting what, which has some blank spaces, but new ideas spring forth daily. Lots of ideas, then I come home from work and watch CSI reruns and Lost (great show) and sit there like a lump. I am a serious deadline junkie. Whilst looking for a title that would give everyone a nice holiday warm fuzzy feeling, I came across this. If she is a just a D-cup, well, then I am just plain flat-chested. What do you think?
D-CUP HOLIDAY

HAPPY THANKSGIVING, EVERYONE!

STUFF YOUR FACE AGAIN!

My heart is with Bishop today as she preps for her art reception. These things are rather fraught with anticipation. I have one coming up in January, and I have nothing new at all yet. Yipes. Anyway, good luck to her, and I hope her art is added to many homes and maybe a collection or two.
THE ASS COLLECTOR

Hey, isn't this Ann Coulter on the cover? Speaking of which, have you ever heard her be interviewed? She is such a wierdo that everyone is agog. She makes no sense at all. I know there are some smart Republicans out there - why can't they drag them out to write books???
LAWYERS IN HEAT (the main result of the election)

I love working inside the Joann's store during Hallowe'en. Kids come up with all these amazing costume ideas and their poor harried moms are frantically trying to make their costumes with absolutely no sewing knowledge or pattern or anything. One kid wanted to be a dracula werewolf ninja. Covering all the bases. Another little boy wanted to be Miss America and the mom didn't blink an eyelash - just point her to the sash material. One little girl is going to be the Black Fairy - no pink wings and tutu for that one - she apparently understands the evil requirements of the holiday. This Saturday will be less entertaining. All the teenagers and adults with last-minute (or no-so-last-minute) invitations will be flocking in to have the poor harried Joann's employees help them with some ill-thought-out and impossible costume concept. I tend to be similarly assauted, being trapped in my little kiosk, but I do my best, and it can be entertaining. Here is a title that, like the dracula-werewolf-ninja, covers lots of bases:
SEX VAMPIRE TERROR HOSPITAL
(sorry - picture wouldn't load, but it was just a Japanese chick showing you her butt crack)

I don't follow baseball much anymore but I know that last night's Sox victory was kind of miraculous. Now we get to see if we have a World Series between Texas and Massachusetts, which would mirror the presidential race. Maybe that's how we should decide. Maybe not.

COXXX & SOXXX

This is the last rant I will write while I am still in my 40s. Monday is the day, the big five-oh, the half-century mark. AACK!!! How did this happen?? Mostly I am okay, with a few twinges of knowing I won't live forever. It's wierd - I can feel it now - the end - even though I am hoping I can live to be pretty old. The carefreeness of my youth has a different aura - I can still be carefree, but with an undercurrent of responsibility. When I was about 19, a kid came to my door with a kitten and I took it. Today, although I would WANT to take the kitten, I would agonize over the expense, the not-kitten-proofed house, my time away from home, and most likely not take the kitty. And then be kind of sad and sorry that I have become such an "adult". I am less social, my friend base is smaller, I am happy to coccoon. My health and fitness have become a forefront issue. Most of my customers are in my age group - we talk about our failing bodies and the failing bodies of our friends and families. Well, at least I can still have the best kind of fun (and it does get better and better):
MY 50TH BIRTHDAY BANG

I have never been more heated about politics than I am at this juncture of my life. I was pretty vocal during the Bush/Clinton race, but not anything like now. I am actually taking steps to educate myself more about the issues. Today I read a transcript of the Bush/Kerry debate (torture) and am watching the Cheney/Edwards one right now. I told a friend that this is like Jesus debating Satan, but probably more like the Devil and Daniel Webster. I can say that Cheney is able to formulate a sentence, which I cannot say for his running mate Chatty Cathy, er, W. I have to confess it all makes my head hurt. It all boils down to this:
PROMISES AND LIES

Okay so I'm late. Been sickie-poo and have this stupid job that I can't call in sick to cause it's only ME. I had to miss the first damn party I've been invited to in at least a year, which made me even sicker. Hateful.
SLIGHT FEVER SYNDROME complete

I guess I should rouse myself from my Olympics coma long enough to do my little jobbie here. I LOVE the Olympics and have ever since my heart was stolen by Jean-Claude Killy back in, what, '68? I wrote a really angry letter to NBC after the last summer round, telling them that I know they do all the damn profiles and backstories and travelogues and whatnot to attract the female audience, but I am a female and I want to see some goddam SPORTS!!! I must not have been the only one, cause they scaled back on most of that crap, and it has been sports! lots of sports! Finally, I saw some fencing, and ping-pong, and trampoline, and archery! Field hockey, soccer, sailing, wrestling! Boxing, track, water polo, and SYNCHRONIZED SWIMMING (those girls are SO strong)! Teams that aren't from here! I have even seen some medal ceremonies that did not involve The Star Spangled Banner. Did NBC finally get some advice from ABC? There are always irritating commentators, and stupid questions, and orchestrated "drama", but all in all I am happy with this session. Guess I'll write another letter to NBC thanking them, and telling them to please get rid of Bob Costas already. He's had too many facelifts.
Here is a sport I have NOT seen:
MEGA BOOB OLYMPICS

I am finally getting on a plane and going away. Not far, just Laguna Beach, but I haven't been on a plane since the big attack. Jet Blue, which I am told is THE flying experience, from Oakland to Long Beach, which my sister says is more like a Safeway than an airport. I found a long-term lot that is free through August, so I am set. I will finally get some quality time with my sister, which I haven't had much of in the last couple years, and some time at a beach where the water temp won't kill you in 20 minutes.

As a side note, I finally saw Bubba Ho-Tep, based on a story by tnsc robot's favorite author Joe Lansdale. It's not easy to explain but go rent it. Tonight. No, wait, it's club night. Get it tomorrow.

BUSTER GOES TO LAGUNA
(For some reason all the Laguna porn is gay. Maybe I'm hitting the wrong town for my vacation!)

I'm too sleepy to have an opinion on anything.....
SLEEPY HEAD

I think I'm the only one in the world (except my friend Mike, who is sick of everyone and everything) who is sick to death of Lance Armstrong. Yes, yes, he is a great athlete and overcame cancer and goes out with Sheryl Crow, but does he have to advertise EVERYTHING???? Part of me hopes he wins the TdeF because it would be an awesome achievement, and part of me hopes he loses so maybe he'll lose a couple of endorsement gigs.

BIKE MESSENGERS PEDALING ASS

If (WHEN!)the Kerry/Edwards ticket wins, will it be the first time we have two Johns in the White House? Will prostitution jokes run amok? Will people ask the VP to contact their dead relatives? Will they have to privately be known as John 1 and John 2, or will they do initials like J.K. and J.E.? J.E. is funky to say out loud. Does it make John Kerry nervous that his initials are J.F.K.? Is John Edwards sick of people asking him to contact their dead relatives?
THE SUBMISSIONS OF JOHNS

Tonight I decided to take myself out to see Harry Potter, as it was playing down the street from where I work at the mighty Corte Madera Theater. It looked like way too many people milling around for a Wednesday night and a movie that has been out for a while. Saw on the marquee that it was another movie, that I thought was opening this weekend. I know that screenings happen at this theater but I decided to see if it was a public thing. I parked and went up to the front, and a kid came up to me and said - "Want a free ticket? I don't need it" - Sure, thanks! So I went in and found a decent seat and went on the wonderful ride that is Spiderman 2. (Thumb WAY up)

Somebody please invent a mini-taser or something to fling at kids on cels in the theater.

THE SPIDER'S KISS

I went on a job interview the other day and it was wierd - the first ones always are. It is a small company and I walked in thinking "oh not this funky kind of place again" but by the time I actually got in to the interview and had watched some interactions and transactions I realized I kind of missed that little company family feeling. The guy seemed nice, the interview went well, and I think I'll be going in again next week. It is in South City, so I stopped in at La Tapatia for some gorditos, guacamole and Crema Salvadorena, along with a vat of those japapeno-soaked carrot chunks. Mmmmmmm..... Anyway, I digress. This time I would be going from porn to sewing to CHOCOLATE! Fortunately, they deal in massive amounts for bakers and restaurants so I might be safe from becoming the circus Fat Lady.
INTERVIEW WITH A GODDESS
interview.bmp

I took Manny on a drive up Highway 1 last weekend. He drives for a living but since only the small trucks get that route and he drives big rigs, he had never been on that road. Very curvy road but he is not one of those carsick-passenger folks so we had a good time. We got routed on a detour road up by Bodega Bay that was worth the whole trip - through woods and fields and then up over the bay with spectacular views. I drove side-by-side with a duck or some water fowl for a while - I'd look over and it was flapping along. We turned inland on route 116 and drove along the Russian River, a path I had never taken, then headed to Santa Rosa and north. We landed in Cloverdale of all places, so obviously the destination was less important than the journey.

Hey all - hope you all have a nice long weekend. Since I'm off Monday anyway I sort of miss out on all that. I am hoping and keeping my fingers crossed that Manny gets the weekend off so we can go away for the first time in almost 2 years. I need you all to hope and pray with me, please.
This sounds like fun:
MEMORIAL DAY WET T & A

This is not really porn. Well I guess it could be if you stretch. Somebody sent me this a long time ago and I rediscovered it when I was purging my pic files. I think it is funny is all. The title is MORNING BREATH. Kinda sums things up.

My cousin and I have been having an ongoing theoligical argument off and on for several years. She is born-again and we have differing opinions. Well. I was not really putting 2 and 2 together when she started sending me various email forwards about Iraq and voting Republican and whatnot until I sent her a reply to one she sent that is an alleged letter from a soldier talking about all the great things we have accomplished in Iraq and that the people want us there, etc., telling her that she could send me all the propaganda she wanted but I am never voting for that man. Well. Hello. I guess I never realized that she is Christian Right! What a wake-up. She called me a "leftist" and accused me of not being interested in facts or truth, among other things. I sent her a rather heated, but pretty informed, response and haven't heard back. So in her honor, here is this week's title:
BRING BACK THE BUSH

Well. my week has been kind of death-ish. Wendy's sister O.D.'d and Manny's mom died of cancer. Get this, not only did Manny not know his mom was sick (it was a quick one), she died on Monday and he wasn't told until Friday! Someday I have to find out who to really hate in his whack little family. Of course, he is being manly and stoic and doesn't want me to comfort or assist him in any way, which leaves me helpless. Wendy, of course, talks everything out so is processing well. Grieving, but processing. It helped to find out her sister had been lying about being clean and had been using again for a long time. We thought she had had a slip and just took too much.

Naturally I can't think of porn for this kind of thing, so I will concentrate on politics. Can Dubya look any more stupid? Will Kerry (spookily initialed JFK) be able to oust the bastard? Will he just be another kind of bastard? Is Iraq the new Vietnam? Will America be saved?
PRESIDENT - Horny Slutty President's Gives A Cum Shot Business

I know a lot of people think Woody Allen is a pervert. I wonder what he'd think of this!
HANNAH DOES HER SISTERS
hannah.bmp

I forget that not everyone thinks like I do and have been a bit surprised when people I think are fairly liberal are repelled by my announcement that Mike and Abel got married(Mike and Abel are my housemates - Mike and I have been friends for 20 years). I actually took time off work to go be their witness and photographer. Later that very day the weddings were stopped. It was wonderful - seeing my best friend, who had been looking for love for so long, taking those vows with a man truly in love with him and vice versa. How can that not be good? Are all those reality wedding shows not desecrating the institution of marriage? Britney was "married" for 55 hours - the first gay couple married had been together for 51 years when they were finally wed. Abel has a lot to say about it - namely that if he is not enough of a citizen to get married then he is not enough of one to pay taxes. Hmmm...
HOMO SAPIENS

I am at work and can't go on the porn site to find you a title. I can tell you a porn story, sorta. Mainly that if you are watching porn with a guy with a dvd player, the whole movie lasts maybe 10 minutes and the whole train of the story is lost. Chapter Skip is very different from Fast Forward. With Fast Forward you can be much more selective than with Chapter Skip (or whatever it's called). I was looking forward to whole scenes I never even saw a speck of (it was something I'd seen before, one of the Devil In Miss Jones series, I think #3 or #4). Oh well, the one with the remote is the one with the power.

My housemate Abel summed up the gay marriage debate by pointing out that what is primarily happening all over the country when Gavin is on the news is, "He's cuuuuute! Is he gay? No? He's cuuuuute!".
MARRIAGE AND OTHER FOUR LETTER WORDS

Okay, here's your title: ANY DORM IN A STORM
Here is a picture of MY dorm in the storm

Well better late than never I guess. I am so out of the loop. Was nice to see you club members that were at Chef's tribute. I am currently making curtains for my mighty man Manny and sometimes I wonder why I volunteer myself for such grueling excercises. Making him go to the fabric store was worth it, at any rate. He was traumatized but we got through it. Anyway, sorry I didn't post on time.

Well, nothing quite suited the current situation. Hoist a glass for our dear departed Club member and his widow, and I'll be back in form next week.

Well I hope you all had a good time and got lots of presents, whatever you were celebrating. I played Boggle for about a hundred hours, intermingled with Scrabble and Kismet (kind of like Yahtzee). Seems like not many people play games anymore and I was more than pleasantly surprised to find that my honey is into the Boggle/Scrabble thing. Plus we plan to learn chess, since he has a nice chess set, and the only time I played I beat the guy teaching me and he wouldn't play with me again. Talk about a sore loser. It is very pleasant to sit at the table with a snack, a beverage, and a loved one or two, with some Dean Martin Italian Love Songs on the stereo, and use the old gray matter to have fun. Also went to see Peter Pan, which was surprisingly dark and full of smoldering pre-teen hormonal action, and quite the cool Hook.
So here is your title. Please try not to live up to it completely in that you find yourself waking up with a hangover and the wrong sex from your orientation in your bed.

OK, enough grief already. I know I have been a slacker - mostly I never know what day it is until it's too late. Anyway, you all have fun this Christmas and I'll make it up to you next year.