Sipping on a shandy, thinking about the year that's past--the last blog of 2007.
I really need to live the life of leisure. No, not eating bonbons on the couch, watching the daytime soaps. The life of someone who maybe was the winner of the thousand-a-week-for-life scratch-off game. Not fancy; just enough to say pay my bills and support my writing career.
If I wanted to be fabulously wealthy and eat chocolate cherry cupcakes, I would have been born
Nigella Lawson. Oh, why can't I be English and love custard? Instead I'm American and lactose-intolerant (Lactaid milk, anyone?).
Actually I've been a big fan of hers for years.Now I could never actually eat the food from the cookbooks or the show . For one thing too damn rich (remember the whole lactose-intolerant thing?).And I have a feeling it looks better than it tastes.
So, what is it exactly that I like about Nigella? Some of you like that whole Martha Stewart thing; for me, it's all too WASP-y perfect; besides, Martha strikes me as the type who would beat you with a rolling pin if you spilled a drink on her carpet.
Nigella, on the other hand, is a little bit of a sloppy drunk. Yes, perfect hair and nails; effortlessly chic with the denim jacket and black skirt, but something tells me after a couple of shots of bourbon, she's downing the fried squid and nursing the hangover the next morning with chocolate pudding. Check it out on The Food Network; tell me if you think I'm right.
Tonight, toast your friends and make the silly resolutions that you never keep. May the evening be merry; say farewell to the old nothing, and I hope the night's party is the icing on the urinal cake of ecch--2007: a not so great year.
Love ya!
Monday, December 31, 2007
Sunday, December 30, 2007
If I can inflict a little pain during the day, I sleep better at night
If I knew you were going to torture me, you could have bought me a drink first.
The party's over; put down the drink, wrap up the tinsel, take down the lights and get back to reality. You hate the holidays, friends and family--you are miserable. Don't get defensive; I know who you are. You come in many different versions; you were my roommate in college, maybe my friend in some dead end job; hell, you might have been an old boyfriend. You can talk a good game, but you feel everyone owes you something.
Let me give you some examples: Mom & Dad, they never got you; they might have paid for your college and Master's degree but guess what? They did it so they could hold it over your head. How can you ever say no to family when they've sacrificed so much. Now you work in a job you hate to pay off your debt.
No relationship ever works: if your Mom didn't love you, all women are castrating bitches. Female: Dad didn't love you; that makes you bitter, so you sleep with every loser that says you're hot. How many times have you seen this woman: 8 in the morning; you're going to work, she's going in the other direction. Little black dress; reeks of cigarettes and gin--covered in regret.
This, my friends, is called the "walk of shame". Like clockwork, she will call her best friend and cry "why, I am so lonely?" On the other side of the line, the best friend. The two have been friends since college, always dependable and glad you're so miserable, because you deserve it.
She would love to have her friend's life but she's the overweight homely chick, and that's her lot in life.
In summation, too many people think that they are better than there circumstances. Every person is at fault except yourself. How about for the New Year, try a little perspective. But you're right about one thing- -your friends and family really does suck.
The party's over; put down the drink, wrap up the tinsel, take down the lights and get back to reality. You hate the holidays, friends and family--you are miserable. Don't get defensive; I know who you are. You come in many different versions; you were my roommate in college, maybe my friend in some dead end job; hell, you might have been an old boyfriend. You can talk a good game, but you feel everyone owes you something.
Let me give you some examples: Mom & Dad, they never got you; they might have paid for your college and Master's degree but guess what? They did it so they could hold it over your head. How can you ever say no to family when they've sacrificed so much. Now you work in a job you hate to pay off your debt.
No relationship ever works: if your Mom didn't love you, all women are castrating bitches. Female: Dad didn't love you; that makes you bitter, so you sleep with every loser that says you're hot. How many times have you seen this woman: 8 in the morning; you're going to work, she's going in the other direction. Little black dress; reeks of cigarettes and gin--covered in regret.
This, my friends, is called the "walk of shame". Like clockwork, she will call her best friend and cry "why, I am so lonely?" On the other side of the line, the best friend. The two have been friends since college, always dependable and glad you're so miserable, because you deserve it.
She would love to have her friend's life but she's the overweight homely chick, and that's her lot in life.
In summation, too many people think that they are better than there circumstances. Every person is at fault except yourself. How about for the New Year, try a little perspective. But you're right about one thing- -your friends and family really does suck.
Saturday, December 29, 2007
Welcome to the monkey house
Here I sit, sipping on a glass of sake, pondering my life. Unemployment will do that to you. It's a joy to feel like a reject this late in my life.
I've also come to the conclusion there are things in life I still need to do.
Climb a mountain, visit Romania, help starving children in a third world nation? No: I have far less lofty goals.
Go to a Renaissance Fair--yes I said it: any situation where you can use "lusty wench" or "huzzah!" in a sentence already has my approval. It's a situation where men can freely wear tights, a robe and a magician's hat. In this Middle Earth spectacular, really fat chicks in long velvet robes become the belle of the ball. It's the Middle Ages and every one's a winner, or a wizard, however you want to look at it.
Go to England-- oh, hell why not bad food, crappy weather, a rising anti-American sentiment; sounds like fun to me!
Go to a rifle range--I am gun nut--hear me fire. Never fired a gun; always wanted to. I bet once I start, I won't want to stop. I'll get a job at the NRA, start designing comic books for the l'il Smith and Wesson's in training, create characters like Firearms Fred and Second Amendment Suzy. It will be delightful, people!
You may wonder where the title of this blog comes from: yes, a book if you don't know the author; I suggest you put down the comic book (oh sorry, graphic novel), leave Jim Handley's universe for a minute and look it up.
Totally off the subject, I do feel at times life is a lot like the monkey house at the zoo. Someone's always throwing shit at you or turning their back and showing you their ass.
Really off the subject, if you're up at two in the morning, watch this gem on cable, "Vice Squad". The seedy Hollywood of 1982; oh, what a glorious piece of Velveeta. With a stellar cast of Wings Hauser, Season Hubley, Nina Blackwood and a cameo by Rerun as a pimp! Trust me, this does not disappoint. Plus, a very quotable film: "$500.00 don't buy you an Eldorado." See the film; you'll get it.
I've also come to the conclusion there are things in life I still need to do.
Climb a mountain, visit Romania, help starving children in a third world nation? No: I have far less lofty goals.
Go to a Renaissance Fair--yes I said it: any situation where you can use "lusty wench" or "huzzah!" in a sentence already has my approval. It's a situation where men can freely wear tights, a robe and a magician's hat. In this Middle Earth spectacular, really fat chicks in long velvet robes become the belle of the ball. It's the Middle Ages and every one's a winner, or a wizard, however you want to look at it.
Go to England-- oh, hell why not bad food, crappy weather, a rising anti-American sentiment; sounds like fun to me!
Go to a rifle range--I am gun nut--hear me fire. Never fired a gun; always wanted to. I bet once I start, I won't want to stop. I'll get a job at the NRA, start designing comic books for the l'il Smith and Wesson's in training, create characters like Firearms Fred and Second Amendment Suzy. It will be delightful, people!
You may wonder where the title of this blog comes from: yes, a book if you don't know the author; I suggest you put down the comic book (oh sorry, graphic novel), leave Jim Handley's universe for a minute and look it up.
Totally off the subject, I do feel at times life is a lot like the monkey house at the zoo. Someone's always throwing shit at you or turning their back and showing you their ass.
Really off the subject, if you're up at two in the morning, watch this gem on cable, "Vice Squad". The seedy Hollywood of 1982; oh, what a glorious piece of Velveeta. With a stellar cast of Wings Hauser, Season Hubley, Nina Blackwood and a cameo by Rerun as a pimp! Trust me, this does not disappoint. Plus, a very quotable film: "$500.00 don't buy you an Eldorado." See the film; you'll get it.
Friday, December 28, 2007
Clementine's nonsequitur
By some unwritten law, you never use your name in the title of your blog. Kinda like being in a band and wearing your own group's shirt; call me a renegade.
So now what, my little lark's tongue in aspic?
If I were to describe my feelings at this moment: the full combo platter of shame; with a side order of freeze-dried regret.
So in passing; Le Fig says the camera's getting smaller... and smaller... and smaller.
Hence, an observation; take that King Crimson.
This was today's fortune cookie-- " your life will be happy and peaceful"
Thank you so much, O stale Asian delicacy that probably has the fingernails of children and rat feces in it because it was made in a sweat shop. Thank you for granting me good fortune. I feelevery day will be one big smiley face. Hey, can you smell that? The pungent odor of sarcasm.
Minions, heed my call: smart-asses of the world unite and take over.
So now what, my little lark's tongue in aspic?
If I were to describe my feelings at this moment: the full combo platter of shame; with a side order of freeze-dried regret.
So in passing; Le Fig says the camera's getting smaller... and smaller... and smaller.
Hence, an observation; take that King Crimson.
This was today's fortune cookie-- " your life will be happy and peaceful"
Thank you so much, O stale Asian delicacy that probably has the fingernails of children and rat feces in it because it was made in a sweat shop. Thank you for granting me good fortune. I feelevery day will be one big smiley face. Hey, can you smell that? The pungent odor of sarcasm.
Minions, heed my call: smart-asses of the world unite and take over.
Thursday, December 27, 2007
The surf & turf of life, hold the onion rings if you please
Oh, the year 2007--almost done.
Sad? No. I have always had a dislike for odd numbered years. 2008; what will it hold for me? I fall short of having psychic ability, so your guess is as good as mine.
Best top ten ever!
No, not really; I hate lists--all pointless drivel. The critic: "this is what I like, I know everything." Thanks, taste maker; I can make up my own mind. What did I see at the movies?
The Simpsons, Grindhouse, Superbad, This Is England and the Harry Potter movie.
That, my friends are the only movies I would sit in a theater for; trust me, it takes a lot. 11 bucks for a movie, screaming kids, sticky floors, the fatamarand that just has to sit next to you; oh, dear Lord. I say, in general, wait for pay-per-view or just wait for the DVD. Trust me, it's still the same movie, plus extras. Wait, who am I kidding? Now everbody just bootlegs the film or has illegal cable. If you watch bootlegs, I hope it's a DVD from China covered in lead. Or, if you have an illegal cable system, I hope that's enveloped in plutonium, with a chewy lead center. Just pay for the service like the rest of us, ya cheap bastard.
So what's on TV?
All I will say is Mad Men--if you've seen it, you get it; if you haven't, please do. It makes smoking, drinking and light sexual harassment very desirable.
What do I enjoy?
In a word or two:
You Tube, the only place where you can see great short films like The Death & Life of Ice Cream, 50 badly edited versions of the Sopranos finale, Family Guy/South Park mash ups
and some kid in his basement massacring Black Sabbath on guitar. Ah, democracy.
In the end, think what you will. Just a word of advice, if you're gonna go out on New Year's Eve, don't drink and drive. And if you're going to a bar, I'm not saying you have to leave, but you can't stay here.
Don't stop believing and stay gold, Ponyboy.
Sad? No. I have always had a dislike for odd numbered years. 2008; what will it hold for me? I fall short of having psychic ability, so your guess is as good as mine.
Best top ten ever!
No, not really; I hate lists--all pointless drivel. The critic: "this is what I like, I know everything." Thanks, taste maker; I can make up my own mind. What did I see at the movies?
The Simpsons, Grindhouse, Superbad, This Is England and the Harry Potter movie.
That, my friends are the only movies I would sit in a theater for; trust me, it takes a lot. 11 bucks for a movie, screaming kids, sticky floors, the fatamarand that just has to sit next to you; oh, dear Lord. I say, in general, wait for pay-per-view or just wait for the DVD. Trust me, it's still the same movie, plus extras. Wait, who am I kidding? Now everbody just bootlegs the film or has illegal cable. If you watch bootlegs, I hope it's a DVD from China covered in lead. Or, if you have an illegal cable system, I hope that's enveloped in plutonium, with a chewy lead center. Just pay for the service like the rest of us, ya cheap bastard.
So what's on TV?
All I will say is Mad Men--if you've seen it, you get it; if you haven't, please do. It makes smoking, drinking and light sexual harassment very desirable.
What do I enjoy?
In a word or two:
You Tube, the only place where you can see great short films like The Death & Life of Ice Cream, 50 badly edited versions of the Sopranos finale, Family Guy/South Park mash ups
and some kid in his basement massacring Black Sabbath on guitar. Ah, democracy.
In the end, think what you will. Just a word of advice, if you're gonna go out on New Year's Eve, don't drink and drive. And if you're going to a bar, I'm not saying you have to leave, but you can't stay here.
Don't stop believing and stay gold, Ponyboy.
Tuesday, December 25, 2007
I would go out tonight but I haven't got a stitch to wear
I really have nothing to write about, but here I go.
I was just watching the Travel Channel. They did a story on a place called Ted's. They make steamed burgers; it looked good to me, but then again my pallet isnt that discriminating and I hide my true self and write under the name Le Fig.
What's in my head right now? Glad you asked.
Oh, I need to go on a road trip--and I need a car, and I need to learn how to drive.
Le Fig also needs proper sentence structure. Ol' Miss Run-On Sentence herself, I tend to
write like the way a tweaked coke bunny talks--fast, occasionally funny and I do go on, way past my usefulness.
You know what I was thinking about: wine coolers--remember those hideous
drinks? When you want to drink but can't fully commit, or you couldn't find a way to get your hands on the hard stuff and Bartles and James had to suffice. How many of us had fake
ID's? Does The College of Arts and Crafts ring a bell? God bless 1986-era 42nd Street; you could get drugs, a prostitute, a fake ID and see a kung fu movie--kinda like a one stop shop.
A Wal-Mart of scum, so to speak.
Let me tell you a deep dark secret--I used to be a fan of Miss Piggy. I had the doll/puppet; I could make her talk. "Miss Piggy, you're so cool; how do I get to be like you ?'' "Well, dip shit, first take your hand out of my ass; stop talking to an imaginary friend and take off those Miss Piggy sneakers--it's just plain weird."
How odd: a little Jewish kid worshiping a pig.
I was just watching the Travel Channel. They did a story on a place called Ted's. They make steamed burgers; it looked good to me, but then again my pallet isnt that discriminating and I hide my true self and write under the name Le Fig.
What's in my head right now? Glad you asked.
Oh, I need to go on a road trip--and I need a car, and I need to learn how to drive.
Le Fig also needs proper sentence structure. Ol' Miss Run-On Sentence herself, I tend to
write like the way a tweaked coke bunny talks--fast, occasionally funny and I do go on, way past my usefulness.
You know what I was thinking about: wine coolers--remember those hideous
drinks? When you want to drink but can't fully commit, or you couldn't find a way to get your hands on the hard stuff and Bartles and James had to suffice. How many of us had fake
ID's? Does The College of Arts and Crafts ring a bell? God bless 1986-era 42nd Street; you could get drugs, a prostitute, a fake ID and see a kung fu movie--kinda like a one stop shop.
A Wal-Mart of scum, so to speak.
Let me tell you a deep dark secret--I used to be a fan of Miss Piggy. I had the doll/puppet; I could make her talk. "Miss Piggy, you're so cool; how do I get to be like you ?'' "Well, dip shit, first take your hand out of my ass; stop talking to an imaginary friend and take off those Miss Piggy sneakers--it's just plain weird."
How odd: a little Jewish kid worshiping a pig.
Sunday, December 23, 2007
Season's greetings, motherfucker
Season's greetings; I'm on the dole.
Let me give you my Holiday wishes...
I wish to have a Fan Club made in my honor.
I wish for my enemies to be trapped under a flaming Xmas tree rolling down a hill .
I hope I don't have to get any more joke gifts (my minons and midgets--take care of this).
I pray Starbuck's stops trying to spread the cheer: egg nog coffee does not make me happy.
Oh, so many things.
Let me leave you with this thought--some people collect comic books; others collect bad thoughts and bitter feelings.
Who are you?
Send me your thoughts.
Mistletoe and love--
the peppermint Le Fig
Let me give you my Holiday wishes...
I wish to have a Fan Club made in my honor.
I wish for my enemies to be trapped under a flaming Xmas tree rolling down a hill .
I hope I don't have to get any more joke gifts (my minons and midgets--take care of this).
I pray Starbuck's stops trying to spread the cheer: egg nog coffee does not make me happy.
Oh, so many things.
Let me leave you with this thought--some people collect comic books; others collect bad thoughts and bitter feelings.
Who are you?
Send me your thoughts.
Mistletoe and love--
the peppermint Le Fig
Tuesday, December 18, 2007
Let's do the the time warp
So here I am, sitting in the car waiting for the light to turn--what breaks my concentration?
The guy in the next car over.
He's playing Pearl Jam. Now I know you people out there think, ''but they were one of the greatest band of the 90's.''
And yes I had a copy of Ten (red cover, their arms outstretched: ''reach the sky, man'').
Maybe that's my point, I had a copy.
Sorry--back to the guy and the car. He was driving a Jeep and had on a on a sweater, a beanie cap, long hair and yes--a soul patch. All that was missing was a girlfriend named Asia
(though completely Caucasian), her green hair and a nose ring, Doc Martens and a
''Take Back The Night'' t-shirt. The song that was playing? "Jeremy", from Ten.
I had a suspicion Ole Grunge Boy got caught in a worm hole 14 years ago and just got
spit back out. Sadly, he broke my illusion by whipping out his cell phone. Bye-bye
Grunge Boy, wherever you may mope.
The guy in the next car over.
He's playing Pearl Jam. Now I know you people out there think, ''but they were one of the greatest band of the 90's.''
And yes I had a copy of Ten (red cover, their arms outstretched: ''reach the sky, man'').
Maybe that's my point, I had a copy.
Sorry--back to the guy and the car. He was driving a Jeep and had on a on a sweater, a beanie cap, long hair and yes--a soul patch. All that was missing was a girlfriend named Asia
(though completely Caucasian), her green hair and a nose ring, Doc Martens and a
''Take Back The Night'' t-shirt. The song that was playing? "Jeremy", from Ten.
I had a suspicion Ole Grunge Boy got caught in a worm hole 14 years ago and just got
spit back out. Sadly, he broke my illusion by whipping out his cell phone. Bye-bye
Grunge Boy, wherever you may mope.
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