Monday, July 28, 2008

Your life as a movie soundtrack

My friend Mike D gave me this one...I tag all of you! Pardon the cheese, but I grew up in the 80s, you see...


1.)OPENING CREDITS: The Bitch is Back - Elton John

2.)WAKING UP SCENE: Blue Sky - Patty Griffin

3.)CAR DRIVING SCENE: Brand New Car - The Rolling Stones


5.)NOSTALGIC SCENE: Ticket to Ride - The Beatles

6.)BITTER, ANGRY SCENE: Kiss That Girl Goodbye - Sheryl Crow


8.)REGRET SCENE: Annie Lennox's Cover of Castles Burning

9.)NIGHTCLUB/BAR SCENE: Blue Jean - David Bowie

10.)FIGHT/ACTION SCENE: Siouxie and the Banshees - This is a Happy House
(it would be an argument scene, actually)


12.)SAD, BREAKDOWN SCENE: Georgia On My Mind - Ray Charles

13.)DEATH SCENE: My Immortal--Evanescence

14.)FUNERAL SCENE: Instrumental song from the Dracula Soundtrack

15.)MELLOW/POT SMOKING SCENE: Mellow - no pot smoking here - but if I had to have one, Leopard Skin Pillbox Hat - Bob Dylan

16.)DREAMING ABOUT SOMEONE SCENE: Manic Monday - The Bangles

17.)SEX SCENE: Not answering this one because the little bro reads the blog!

18.)CONTEMPLATION SCENE: One is the Loneliest Number - cover by Aimee Mann

19.)CHASE SCENE: Theme from Ironman (but who would I be chasing? Ben & Jerry's?)

20.)HAPPY LOVE SCENE: Sweet Emotion by Aerosmith

21.)HAPPY FRIEND SCENE: B-52s - Private Idaho

22.)CLOSING CREDITS: Walking With A Ghost - White Stripes

Sunday, July 27, 2008

His name is Earl...Earl Grey!


When we went to the shelter to adopt Mr. Lucky a couple of months ago, Earl ran right up to us and rubbed against our legs like he was our new best friend. (Geez, how often can a sentence like that one come up?!)

We knew Vladi's time was limited, and resolved to adopt a buddy for Lucky when Vladi went to cat heaven. Friday, when that happened, we both felt really depressed and I seriously thought about not getting any more pets - but then, who can resist a cute, cuddly, furry Brit? ;)

When we went to the cat shelter Saturday, he jumped right up in my lap. That settled it!

I don't know why adult cats have a hard time getting adopted. To me, it's a no-brainer. They're already settled into their personalities, are house-trained, and extremely grateful to have a forever home. Sort of like getting married.

Although the name Earl conjures up images of someone around 68 who'd wear checked plaid shirts, drive a van, eat ham sandwiches with Wonder bread and hang out with my grandfather to talk about the Eisenhower years, I have to admit it's cute to have a cat named after tea.

And PS...he and Mr. Lucky were buddies at the shelter, so it's a Lucky and Earl reunion! (Get it? Or don't you listen to Paul Simon?)

Saturday, July 26, 2008

Chase air chickens with no wings...

To start - a note to God and/or the universe - wtf?! I have now lost THREE cats in a year, in addition to a close relative. Enough's enough!

Vladimir (aka the Fluffy White Fuck) never really bonded with any of us - but he was a purebred and it wasn't really his fault.

I am against breeding animals. My mother got Vladi for my brother when my brother was 9, so he had a good long life - but it was full of problems that come with being purebred. Like being stupid and going deaf.

We had to make a horrible decision that sent Vladi to cat heaven yesterday. He had been going downhill for a few years, then more sharply this year, and in the last 24 hours he wouldn't eat or drink, and was getting sick on himself. He had lost 20 percent of his body weight in a month, poor guy.

So while it wasn't as bad a loss as Sev or Rocco - that was like losing family members, and Vladi was more like a weird uncle who slept in the closet - it's still sad.

So rest in peace, FWF, and I hope you find some air chickens with no wings, as Nik says.

Wednesday, July 23, 2008

Breaking news! This is blog #200!

If you were at The Oregonian, that would be considered hot stuff.

Since 9/11, they've felt compelled to have a "breaking news" link on their web site. The only problem is that there's not always something newsworthy to post.

So during the past week we've had such critically important stories as, "Eugene man sentenced for selling fake software," "Clearing today, high 73 degrees," and - I am not making this up - "Man on Max train regains lost hat."

Unless that hat was the decomposing corpse of an ex-president, pray tell, why is this "breaking" news?

If they're that desperate, they should call my house.

I have some ideas:

"Fluffy white fuck pees on floor - AGAIN!"

"New cat gets his tail caught in blinds, hangs like pendulum" (I wish I was making that up.)

"Dust continues to build; marriage threatened by mutual refusal to clean"

"Riot Kitty and Mr. Riot Kitty have sex without condoms!"

"Mr. Riot Kitty goes on strike; sick of making DQ runs"

"Crisis! Riot Kitty ponders worldwide shortage of cheese enchiladas"

So what would you write?

Monday, July 21, 2008

And speaking of great quotes...

There is a creepy old man who likes to wander around the parking lot in my apartment complex smoking - and he has come up to my husband, entered his garage, with the cigarette, multiple times - despite being asked not to smoke there - when he isn't busy driving like an asshole.

So it didn't surprise me that he gave some pornographic playing cards to our beloved maintenance guy, who happens to be gay, and said they should "straighten him out."

Fucker. I was waiting for the opportunity to step on his foot (or elsewhere) and make it look like an accident.

So the other day my husband is walking by the maintenance guy's garage on the way to his own garage, and he sees him talking to the old asshole guy. And overhears this...REALLY loud:

"So yes - I just LOVE COCK!!! I have no idea why!"

Obviously he was needling the old fuck, and more power to him!

So this song is for our guy who's true to himself...

Friday, July 18, 2008

Sucking down 10-inch noodles and the Snoopy fuck-you machine

I am so excited - my 29-year-old brother got me a Snoopy Sno-Cone (their misspelling, not mine) machine for an early present for me! I had one in the late 70s/early 80s, and it was one of the many cool toys my bio mother threw out because she was constantly getting rid of our toys to make room for god knows what. (More husbands, I think.)

Anyway, I am down in California and I think - A-ha! - It's a brilliant idea to make snow cones with this contraption for my (other) little brother and my little sister.

I am here to tell you that all of those commercials, showing a child effortlessly cranking the ice grinder and the ice seamlessly flowing out of the machine, are absolute fakes.

It should be called the Snoopy Fuck-You machine, or, as my youngest brother calls it, the Snoopy Slow-Cone machine.

Should you decide to try to make these with this "machine" at home, don't say I didn't warn you of the following truths of the Snoopy Sno-Cone machine:

1. It is not a machine. The "simple machine" is your arm cranking the lever.
2. It takes a hell of a lot of pressure to hold down the Snoopy on top (who, incidentally, looks like he's wearing a cherry condom on top of his little white head), while simultaneously hurting the fuck out of your wrist, while trying (the key word here is trying) to turn the crank.
3. All of this work will result in not even a spoonful of ice, which will have melted by the time you get the equivalent of the next spoonful.
4. Kern's Strawberry-Banana flavored juice tastes like shit.

As a funny aside, we had lunch in North Beach in San Francisco today, and my 12-year-old brother was slurping down his spaghetti (literally) from his fork. I looked at him and said, "That's what spoons are for."

He grinned and my dad asked what we were talking about.

I replied, "He was sucking down a ten-inch noodle..."

And then we all started cracking up.

My dad said, "I don't think that's what Mom wants to hear that you did in San Francisco this afternoon!"

And my brother replied, "No, I'm not old enough yet."


Monday, July 14, 2008


Claire did a neat post recently about making her own collage...and asked, if we were to repeat that artistic exercise in patience, what ours would say.

Hers had bright colors and several neat quotes. I've been scribbling neat quotes since I was in high school - everything ranging from lyrics from Sting and the Smiths, to parts from the Talmud and lines from books by Amy Tan and George Stephanopoulos.

Here are some that I like...too busy this week to make a collage!

(And the photos are by Mr. RK.)

[after his first screen test] The studio guy told me, "Kid, you have no future in this business." I said, "Why?" He said, "When Tony Curtis first walked onscreen carrying a bag of groceries -- a bag of groceries! -- you took one look at him and said, 'THAT'S a movie star!'" I said, "Weren't you supposed to say, 'That's a grocery delivery boy?' "
- Harrison Ford

Listen, if I cared what most people thought at this point in my life I
would be in a straitjacket. I don't care anymore.
- artist Hunt Slonem

There is a common tendency to cling to old ways and methods. Every innovation has to fight for its life, and every good thing has been condemned in its day and generation.
—Elbert Hubbard

Trust yourself. Create the kind of self that you will be happy to live with all your life. Make the most of yourself by fanning the tiny, inner sparks of possibility
into flames of achievement.
- Golda Meir

There's nothing better than good sex. But bad sex? A peanut butter and
jelly sandwich is better than bad sex.
- Billy Joel

I don't understand the hatred and fear of gays and bisexuals and's a concept I honestly cannot grasp. To me, it's not who
you love...a man, a woman, what have's the fact THAT you love.
That is all that truly matters.
- Al Pacino

The purpose of life is not to be happy. It is to be useful, to be
honorable, to be compassionate, to have it make some difference that you
have lived and lived well - Ralph Waldo Emerson

The things that come to those that wait may be the things left by those
that got there first.
- Steven Tyler

I have bursts of being a lady, but it doesn't last long.
- Shelley Winters

Thursday, July 10, 2008

I am not making this up...really!

I carry a small notebook with me in my purse and sometimes scribble things that catch my fancy.

It's also a very convenient place for my little sister to draw me pictures when I see her, and for my little brother to write hilarious stuff that's far beyond his biological 12 years.

And I forgot all about something I saw on a bottle of Thai chili sauce in a dive cafe in Chinatown a couple of weeks ago.

You know when you're bored waiting for someone, or for your food, or just want something to read while you're munching? You know how you sometimes end up reading the entirety of the labels of soy, teriyaki, chili, and plum sauces?

According to the back of the label, the chili sauce was made by the Theppadungporn Coconut Co.


To prove that I didn't make this up, I found their company logo on the web (see above.) Speaking of which, what in God's name is he planning to do with that oar? Go row a boat? Slice the coconut in his hand? Or just give it a good thrashing?

So inquiring minds want to know: what kind of name, exactly, is Theppadungporn? Is the Theppadunporn family an esteemed member of the Thai chili sauce trade? Or could it be that the Theppadung company bought out the Porn Coconut company, and decided to combine names in the merger - sort of like when Fort Howard bought Saint James and they became Fort James? Why IS the word coconut included? Do they also sell produce on the side? Any ideas?

If you're bored at work tomorrow, here's an assignment - explain how you think the company chose its name.

Yes, I really do have an answer to this question - but let's get creative. We can all use a good laugh. The more, the merrier!

Tuesday, July 08, 2008

Blog #195

For my first weeks on the job, I had a crash-course in poor event planning and couldn't think about anything else, including reading.

Normally I devour books. I never read anything twice, because there are daunting lists and lists, as well as stacks and stacks, that I want to get to.

I have finished two (long) novels in as many days. I picked up both of them because they were both penned by authors I like; I barely glanced at the back covers, eagerly buying the paperbacks I had been waiting for.

Both of the books dealt with mental illness, and compassionately.

And both of them hit me in the gut.

They dealt with subjects that I have experienced in my life but have rarely talked about: sexual assault and suicidal feelings.

Granted, I have never been made to suffer anything as horrific as the characters in these novels. But I am realizing, as I delve into my job, that my silence has harmed me and prevented me from helping others.

At the end of the second book, in the reader's notes, the author said that she had been clinically depressed in high school - like her protagonist - and had attempted suicide.

I thought that was brave to write about it, be open.

I never got that far, but there are bone-white razor blade scars on my left forearm that won't go away.

There are memories I would rather not have, guys that pushed me to do things I didn't want to do and random assholes who groped me in the hallways at school.

Why didn't I yell, hit them, report them?

Why didn't anyone take me to see a shrink when I was slicing my arms?

Once I accidentally got too deep and actually got scared at the amount of blood in the sink.

It occurred to me to write about this because someone in my professional life has been affected by deep depression, but won't discuss it - and he leaves us to pick up the pieces after him every time he crashes.

It is not easy to confront the issues - is there a better word than issues? - but only in doing so, I now believe, can we heal ourselves and help others to heal as well.

I don't normally write about really personal stuff, or talk about really personal stuff even with close friends.

But why be silent anymore?

Talk about it.

PS ... The books: Every Visible Thing, by Lisa Carey, and The Double Bind, by Chris Bohjalian.

Friday, July 04, 2008

Fuck off and die! Oh did.

Let's face it, folks - Jesse Helms was a racist, homophobic, bigoted bastard who would have been happy if the South had won the war. In fact, he never changed his opposition to the civil rights movement.

Good riddance!

It is absolutely nauseating to see how Bush and Elizabeth Dole, among others, are now kissing his rotten dead ass - as if he was a decent human being.

The only realistic rememberances I've read about him are as follows:

"At the height of his power, he fought for the values of the old confederacy. He resisted the new South. He resisted the opportunity to fight for a more perfect union."

_ The Rev. Jesse Jackson.


"Jesse Helms' legacy is one of hatred, homophobia and racism. Although not its intent, that legacy has made our community stronger and more able to forcefully respond to bigotry and prejudice. As a community, we are more committed than ever to securing full equality for all GLBT people."

_ Joe Solmonese, president of the Washington-based Human Rights Campaign.

When you look at the numbers, the old guard (read: assholic pricks) like him are the generation that fought violently against integration, and are fighting now to keep GLBT people second-class citizens.

If we can't change their minds by appealing to them as human beings - because they clearly aren't - I can't wait until the rest of them are either outed or kick the bucket.

Mr. Riot Kitty says he probably jerked off to dreams of African American men.

What do you think?

Thursday, July 03, 2008

So do you come here often?

I could have asked that question at my first on-the-books job...

Scarlet and Coby cracked me up with their "worst interview moments" on Scarlet's post today...I couldn't top them, but it reminded me of my first office job, which lasted an entire two weeks.

Looking back, I don't know how I lasted two hours!

I found it through a work experience program in my junior year of high school: get a job, and attend a meeting once a month instead of having to go to class. It sounded good.

Stanford Hospital told the work experience supervisor, a prim (to say the least) woman who had been my English teacher the year before and hadn't stepped out of 1955, that the position would entail talking to patients, post-surgery, and following up to see if they had any complications. (This would probably violate HIPPA laws these days, come to think of it.)

So there I was, 16 years old, using a fake name over the phone to who'd had penile implant surgery.

And asking them how it was going!

This was 15 years ago, but I still remember one guy completely denying he'd had the surgery. Another guy went into graphic detail about how much of it had "come back." ("First, I was about half the size I used to be, and now, I'm about a third of the size I used to be...")

The best call was to an 82-year-old man who said, "The only problem is I have too many girlfriends now, ha ha!"

The (all-male) department was very understanding when I quit and went to work in a dentist's office.

So was the work experience supervisor.

But with my first check, I bought my dad a Polo shirt that he wore with pride - and quite a few laughs - until it fell apart many years later.

So spill it - what's the funniest/weirdest/most humiliating job you've ever had?