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!)