Saturday, October 31, 2009

A memory of a governor

Former Louisiana state governor Dave Treen died this week and I am reminded of meeting him at a function in the early 1980's. Louisiana was a Democrat stronghold and without a Republican governor since Reformation. Politically corrupt Democrat Edwin Edwards was limited to two consecutive terms thus forced to sit out one term before running again. Dave was the governor in the interim.

Dave Treen told this story

In his home parish (county to the rest of you people) Dave Treen and another man named Joe Boudreaux were the only two registered Republican voters. Joe Boudreaux was quite old, became ill and knew he would die soon. He summoned his last bit of energy and reported to the parish clerk of court to change his party affiliation to Democrat. Word soon got back to the last remaining Republican Dave Treen. Perplexed by the switch, Dave visited Joe Boudreaux at home, on his deathbed.

Dave asked if the party switch rumor was true. Boudreaux confirmed it.

"I don't just understand it, Joe. You have been a Republican since your very first vote. You believe in conservative government. And I know you worry about the future of Louisiana. And frankly, I wonder why. Have you had an epiphany? A change of heart? What has changed, Joe?"

"Aw, Dave, that's not it,"said Joe.

"But why? Tell me why you have been a staunch and outspoken Republican for over seventy years and now, for the last few days of your life here on earth, you want to be a Democrat?"

Joe took a labored breath and said, "Dave, it's simple. After I die, I still want to be able to vote."

The crowd laughed. We all had heard the stories of dead folks remaining on the voter register rolls and the signatures of deceased showing up on the election log books long after their funerals.

Dave served only one term as governor, continued to work for the Republican party but his greatest service to the Great State of Louisiana is when he urged all Republicans to vote for his nemesis "Slick Eddie" Edwin Edwards. White supremacist David Duke ran for governor against Edwards and was gaining ground. Voter discontent with the "Edwards machine", the state's backwards progress and just plain old racism allowed Duke to gain popularity. The polls showed a neck and neck race. National attention was focused on Louisiana. When Treen said that the state would be hurt more by Duke than Edwards, he was speaking volumes. Stickers soon appeared "Vote for the Crook", the crook was our former and future governor, Edwin Edwards. Duke lost the election.

Edwin finally got his just rewards. He was convicted of racketeering, sent to prison in 2002 and remains there today.

Rest in peace, Dave Treen.

Happy Halloween

Listen to Jay Thomas tell the story about his most memorable Halloween.

MY most memorable Halloween?

They are all a blur. But while in my 20's (or 30's?), I went to the New Orleans City Park haunted house attraction, drank beer with my friends while waiting in line and all the sudden, from the dark, a hockey masked guy ran at us while cranking up a chainsaw. Fight or flight? I picked flight. The crowd went one way, I went the other. Now you understand the Animal Planet's documentaries and why ya gotta stay with the herd. I was a little frightened but not really believing the Chainsaw guy really wanted to hurt me but dang, he is being a little careless with how close that loud and dangerous machine was to my face. We zigged and zagged while the crowd watched our chase. Finally, he gave up. I returned to my friends, all laughing their asses off. "Yeah, yeah, really funny but that guy was getting a little too close with that chainsaw!"

They laughed until they could catch their breath and finally said, "it was a leaf blower, dumb ass!"

Friday, October 30, 2009

Quote of the day

Every expense was spared.

--Simon Doonan

Thursday, October 29, 2009

Mean pays dividends

My friend Chrysanthemum says mean shit all the time but I don't censor her because she is damn funny. Mean minus humor = cruel.

And as my blog intro states, I got a little touch of the "skitzo". Tender one day. Bitter, the next. Mean with a dose of humor, hopefully.

Today I was checking out my bookmarked favorite blog list, read Kim's Got Blog entry with a link labelled "Louisiana's Finest". Curiosity got the best of me and I clicked it only to find it was ME! She won a blog award and then named ME to receive the pay it forward kinda nomination.


To accept the award, I am to list 10 daily things and pass on the award to 5 other blogs. Kim and her crowner of blog tiara, Ubermouth, have a theme of mean so passing on MY favorite sites of snarkiness.

  1. Awake, cursing, to raise the window blind that Sammy the cat bangs against the window frame. After 12 years, I still don't know if he wants to look outside or disturb my sleep.

  2. Listen to Howard Stern while fixing my face, brushing my teeth, etc.

  3. Eat toast and drink skim milk from a frozen beer mug, if I have time.

  4. Drive the 3 minute commute to work.

  5. Check out my blog buddies.

  6. Have my daily caffeine fix with (hopefully only one) real Coca~Cola in a can, poured over ice.

  7. Do whatever I do at work while listening to Sirius, via computer streaming.

  8. After work, attend meetings for volunteer organization or one of the 3 boards I sit on.

  9. Multi-task: watch TiVo & blog on the laptop or wire wrap beads or embroider. Idle hands are the devil's workshop, I tell ya!

  10. Tell God that every day I find something else to be thankful for and read until I fall asleep.

A'ight, 5 favs. Check 'em out and have a laugh.

Things I Want to Punch in the Face - LOVE this blog! Jennifer is a truly worthy rant sister and I just wish I had thought of the blog name first. She has inspired a few of my entries.

Miss In Your Business - advice blog with 2 funny chicks (1 breeder, 1 non) and occasional guest writer. Lots of opinionated advice and funny commenters.

Misadventures in Maturity - not updated lately but rest assured, there is plenty of archived entries to keep you busy. Drop Mis A. a note and demand more. She needs a kick in the ass.

Death Wore a Feathered Mullet - the blog name alone should get you over there. He had me at "I watched Jay Leno once so you never, ever have to".

And as a palate cleanser, might I offer a little nip of Ashley's Closet? She is married, a mom and a breeder and on the surface, not the typical source of curiosity for me but she is a crazy kind of funny. Her header reads "Confessions of an attention loving, wiener gobbling mom who is perpetually in pajamas & who enjoys shopping, gossip & telling it like it is". Now I ask you, can you NOT check her out?


Wednesday, October 28, 2009

Speaking of gay

One of my favorite moments of Chris Rock's Bigger and Blacker stand up concert is Chris speaking of homophobia, the uncomfortable silence when he declared everyone in the room has a gay family member and the crowd's lack of response.

'Cause everybody in this room got at least a gay cousin. Every last one of you got a gay cousin or one that you wonder about.
(Chris stood smiling, waiting for them to ponder their family tree. There was a quiet moment then a wave of nervous laughter moved through the audience.)
You knew he was gay when y'all was kids. You was playing ball, he was jumping rope. He didn't turn gay, he was gay then. He just didn't have nobody to be gay with. Shit, I got a gay uncle. Call him Aunt Tom. Every Christmas, he comes over with his ''friend.'' See, it don't make no sense to hate nobody. It don't make no sense to be a racist, sexist, or nothing, . . .because whoever you hate will end up in your family. That's right, you don't like gays, you're gonna have a gay son.

I sat in my living room, laughing with Chris and running the family inventory. Dang, both sides of the family have a gay-but-not-truly-"out" cousin. My dad once told me that there weren't gay folks when he was growing up. "Right . . .there wasn't one confirmed bachelor in your family or town that seemed different?" He said no, but I could see he was doing his own inventory.

My mom thought homosexuality was a choice until she watched the son of a friend's progression through the years. He is my age. From the age of a toddler, Mom thought him to be a "sissy" (that was the term of the time) and sure enough, he's gay. Lucky for him, he moved from our small town's repressed attitudes and is living a nice life.

When I hear folks say "I don't care if they are gay, I just don't want their sexuality in my face", the immature personality in my head giggles. Perhaps a re-wording is necessary. Heck, I don't want anyone's sexuality on display. Gay, straight, elderly - Public Displays of Affection grosses me out. Get a room!

But when I hear anti-gay comments, I assume the speaker supposes homosexuality to be a choice. If so, I'll ask exactly when they decided to be heterosexual. A silence usually follows.

An old friend of mine is super sensitive about African American issues. She is as white as a jar of mayonnaise but would turn red with anger if she heard someone say "N+*&^#%, please" like Chris Rock. She saw no humor in it. My mom always seem to carry the torch of the American Indian plight. Guess mine is the gay issue. It pushes my buttons. When a long lost friend she sent a stoopid e-mail calling for the Christian protest of a gay kiss shown on network television, I told her that I found her "Christian" intolerance unbelievable and she then asked if I were gay. No, not gay, just compassionate. No more idiotic e-mails from her.

If you ever read a Bible, you'll see that Jesus habitually hung out with the fringes of society - lepers, tax collectors, "unclean" women. Who do you think he would seek out today? The hate spewing religious that misuse the Christian label or the ostracized?

Tuesday, October 27, 2009


2 tweens or barely teenage boys playing basketball next door

Boy 1, angrily: Quit talking about my mom!
Boy 2: No
Boy 1, louder: Stop it! Stop talking about her!
Boy 2: I like your mom
Boy 1: Shut up!
Boy 2: Yeah, I like your mom. Alot.

Then they notice me and get quiet.

Monday, October 26, 2009

Saturday, October 24, 2009

Not a box I really wanted to open

but I read a ridiculous story today about a scheduled book and Bible burning and felt compelled to respond.

"Man, I don't want to go to heaven
if it is filled with people like that."

Jay Thomas uttered those words after interviewing the very vile Fred Phelps, founder and pastor of the Westboro Baptist Church. You may remember hearing about Phelps' congregation's protests at American soldier's funerals to gain attention for their numerous causes. They leave few stones uncovered when looking for new groups to hate. Racist depictions of African Americans and Italians and denouncements of Catholics, Jews, and every other form of religion but their self described "Primitive Baptist" sect. Fred Phelps and his hate mongering followers carried "God Hates Fags" signs at soldier's funerals asserting that every tragedy in the world is linked to homosexuality.

My impressionable years

When I attended church with my high school boyfriend, his pastor asserted that you could spot the sinners and purveyors of pornography by their very large (back in the day) satellite dishes.

Local religious protesters blocked the theater release of Monty Python's "Life of Brian" and when I finally watched it years later, it was hard for me to believe such a silly movie could possibly test one's faith. I have always maintained that the same folks that joined cults were the same weak minded fools that could be seduced by drugs or fundamentalist religions. No thinking, we tell you what to believe. To those without intelligence or confidence, it must be comforting to just follow and not doubt.
From my small town church pastors that vowed rock and roll was devil music and women's equality rights laws would force men and women to shower together on army bases to Jerry Falwell, Jimmy Swaggart, Marvin Gorman and Jim Baker and their public falls from grace - all these men showed me they were not to be trusted with my faith and growth. Don't wanna be like you.

I stayed away from organized religion for over a decade. "I'd rather go to hell because at least I would see my friends" is my mantra back then. Every Sunday morning, I enjoyed my spiritual time at my very own church of the Holy Saint Mattress.

Eventually, I found my own way at a church different from my childhood experience. While I invite and welcome anyone to join me, there is no pushing the issue because I respect that we all need to find our own way. Just because my parents and grandparents were a certain strain of this or that doesn't mean it was a good fit for me. (Rest assured, no early morning Saturday knocks on the door will be me proselytzing and leaving religious tracts on your porch.)

My first adult foray to church included an awesome pastor who once remarked some folks will be surprised at who ends up in Heaven and who doesn't. Some won't find their church friends and won't recognize the prostitutes, pimps and "sinners" that they wouldn't speak to on earth. Eye opening.

But I gotta tell ya, it still chaps my ever lovin' ass when I hear someone spewing hate in the name of being Christian. It makes me hesitant to use the label. Stands against Harry Potter books, Halloween, Dan Brown and his "DaVinci Code", the burning of all non-King James Bibles by North Carolina "pastor" Marc Grizzard - it just shows ignorance, intolerance and everything else that makes me uncomfortable with religion.

I don't want to go to heaven if it is filled with people like that.
Recently asked my friend, the pastor's wife, if I was a bad Christian if I didn't exclusively read Christian authors. Her reply? "Hell no!" It wasn't meant to be a test question but it verified that I had found the kind of people I want to be with.

You believe what you believe. I'll believe what I believe.

But if someone gets in my face with any of that foolishness or tells me my gay friends are going to hell . . . I'll try deep breaths until I pass out or just start screaming "I rebuke you!"

Hoping you find your own way,

in your own time

and there is peace and love and hope for us all,

I am,


Friday, October 23, 2009

Duh! of the day

Of course, Fox News is skewed to the right.
Almost every other news source is skewed to the left.
And if you don't know that, geez, you aren't at all paying attention.
I listen to NPR, CNN and Fox News and totally hear their different slants but I have enough awareness to discern the bias from the information.
Here is what I learned a long time ago: news is presented to you by the broadcasting company that has sold enough advertising to pay for the service. It is the advertising that comes first, NOT the news content. The demographics for said products determine the audience. In other words, all news is biased.

Thursday, October 22, 2009


Brooke Hundley wrote a letter to Marni Phillips, wife of ESPN sportscaster Steve Phillips to reveal their affair.

Can you say "ruh roh"?
Click on letter for larger type.

Am I the only one to note that sportscasters seem to be a bit tawdry?

Marv Alpert - cross dressing biter

Frank Gifford - prostitute patron

Bob Gamere - child porn collector

Vince Marinello in New Orleans - killer of his ex-wife and murder "to do" list maker

OJ Simpson - need I say more?

Wednesday, October 21, 2009

How not to find a gas leak

When I was a kid, I vaguely remembered the incident that caused my uncle to gain an unfortunate nickname. Recently I asked my mom to fill in the blanks. Here's the scoop.
Uncle suspected a gas leak on the exterior of his house. A pack of us cousins were running around the yard and my aunt told us to play in the front yard. We heard her saying, "NO, I don't think you should do that!" and then frantically pulling the water hose to the side of the house.
When we next saw our uncle, his eyebrows were gone and he had a sheepish look on his face. Apparently he had the brilliant idea of finding the gas leak with a lighter. You heard me. Flame and gas leak, yoo hoo, where's the leak? My aunt held him off long enough to get the water hose ready for quick dousing. Poof!
New nickname? Crispy Critter

Tuesday, October 20, 2009

Balloon boy's dad is a douche nozzle*

Larimer County Sheriff Jim Alderden announced at a press conference on Sunday that Colorado authorities have ruled the "balloon boy's" flight a hoax.

"It has been determined that this is a hoax. We believe we have evidence at this point to indicate that this was a publicity stunt," Alderden told reporters.


from the GumboNetwork:

Skitzo Leezra here, reporting from the lower left hand corner of the boot shaped state of Louisiana--

My bro-in-law put together a cardboard box and silver helium balloon costume and wore it to an early Halloween party last Saturday and was the hit of the night. Hard to believe, but, Sis RikkiTikkiTavi tells me that not one person at the party asked him for a vomit-on-air re-enactment.

*He named his son "Falcon"---> an automatic entry to douche dad status.

Monday, October 19, 2009

New source of shame for Louisiana

Thank you, Tangipahoa Parish Justice of the Peace Keith Bardwell, for perpetuating the Great State of Louisiana's tarnished image as idiots and bigots and fertile home for backward thinking. When you refused to marry an interracial couple, you revealed yourself to be the epitome of what is wrong of our state. And now, you announce "It's kind of hard to apologize for something that really and truly down in your heart you don't feel you've done wrong. I don't regret what I did and if it ever came up again, I'd have to do the same thing" and "I stand by my decision and it is my right not to marry an interracial couple."
Governor Jindal says it is a clear violation of constitutional rights and is calling for an investigation. Let's hope it is not politics as usual in this state and you are removed from your elected position, Mr. Bardwell.
Shame on you and anyone small enough to agree.

Saturday, October 17, 2009

Hot as a crotch

and twice as muggy here in southwest Louisiana.
You bloggers posting photos of snow,
I think you LIE!

Friday, October 16, 2009

Turn that frown upside down

I am SO not a sunshiny always happy girl so I really like learning how others cope with minor annoyances and pet peeves.
Louise is a bit of a Luddite and the last person to NOT own a cellphone. She stood in line at the DMV for an hour listening to a guy talking loudly on his cell. Frustrated, she opened her magazine, matched his volume level and began to read aloud. He stopped his call and asked her, "Do you mind?" She said no, I've listened to you for an hour so I thought it was my turn. He returned to his call. She again began the oral story time. He said, "Look, I'll call you back. I can't hear you because some crazy lady is reading out loud. I know, right? Rude." He glared her. She smiled and put away her magazine.
My gal pal Dawn told me the story about her first week working at a very starchy bank where she would greet co-workers entering the elevator. And she was so amazed and taken aback when they wouldn't acknowledge her. I said, "Fuck 'em! What's their deal?" But Dawn has a bit more tenacity. The second day she went forward with the assumption that they didn't hear her the first time and greeted them with a little more volume. Third day, a little louder. Fourth day, the second the elevator doors opened, they greeted HER before she could open her mouth. And she just laughed inside.
It made me a better person to hear that story. Instead of instantly getting mad and writing off someone as rude or inconsiderate, I give them a second (and maybe third) chance for a first impression. A chick in my volunteer organization always seem to shun me. After the third time, I asked her, "Hey, what's the story? Every time I wave at you, you ignore me." She told me that even with eye contacts, she cannot see more than 2 feet away and is constantly trying to pick up the wrong children at the school pick up car lane. Without Dawn's lesson, I would have just chalked her up as a bitch.
Now, if they still aggravate me, I am most definitely gonna jack with them. Like this,
Jennifer Worick of Things I Want to Punch in the Face ranted about those too numerous little subscription cards that fall out of every magazine. I didn't even know there was a name for them: blow-in cards. Here is MY suggested way to cope:

I write the most awful, horrible jokes on them. Jokes I would NEVER say aloud. Then I mail them, all the while laughing that the publisher just paid for the postage and one of their employees will be scarred for life or at least the afternoon. I figure eventually a lawsuit will happen and the employees will get special pay for having to read hateful bile. It's a win/lose/win.

Here's hoping you take that peeve and turn into a perk.
Have a great weekend!

Thursday, October 15, 2009

Obama won the Nobel? Er?

My radio boyfriend Jay Thomas said it is no surprise that Obama won the Nobel peace prize because, remember, Obama organized the Beer Summit for Harvard professor Henry Louis Gates Jr. and Cambridge police Sgt. Joseph Crowley after a controversial arrest.

I say NO! Had all the participants drank the same beer, then a concensus could be declared but each drank a different brew.

For Obama: Bud Light (trying to hard to slum)

For Gates: Red Stripe (thinking he is keeping it real)

For Crowley: Blue Moon (showing pseudo micro-brewery flair but alas, mass produced by Miller Coors)

FAIL!! NO Nobel prize for you, Barack.

Wednesday, October 14, 2009

Possible explanation

Today, Elizabeth was describing to me the horrible nursery room decor she found on HGTV's Rate My Space and then said, "Maybe that's why their children are so stupid."

Surrounded by bad decor in young impressionable years -----> Dumb kids

Smells like a future high dollar research grant to me.

Tuesday, October 13, 2009

It took me 3 years to watch it

When the Levees Broke: A Requiem in Four Acts - Acts I & II

Spike Lee's documentary of the effects of Hurricane Katrina was released three years ago and I wasn't ready to watch it then. I recorded it August 28th and finally finished it today. It took several sittings to complete. (Not sure I'll ever get to Acts III & IV.)

My friends all know that I am barely aware of hurricane paths or ever prepared for "big weather". In 1997, while living in New Orleans, I had a garage sale the very day everyone evacuated from Hurricane Danny. The shoppers kept asking why I didn't cancel the sale and when was I leaving? Huh? In anticipation of moving in a couple days, my cable service was transferred to a new address and I hadn't a clue that an evacuation order had been called. And no idea that they meant leaving town! My friend Chrysanthemum and I were the last to leave; she to her parents in Mississippi, me to my folks in southwest Louisiana.

Fast forward, in 2000 I left New Orleans to return to my hometown and bought a house. So, while floating in my pool on Saturday August 27th, 2005, I answered my phone to John asking if my offer of lodging was still good. Huh? (again). There's a hurricane coming through, don't you know this? Nope. But, of course, he and his mother and two grandmothers were more than welcome to evacuate to my house. The year before, they stayed in a nearby Texas town while "evaporating" from a hurricane. I insisted that they stay with me "next time" because hotel rooms can be a bit cramped for four adults.

They packed up in one vehicle with limited items and an ice chest of snacks and drove hours over the usual three hour drive time. We all thought they would be away from home for 2-3 days maximum.

Their most important need was constant television updates. I rarely watch live television so we quickly learned the channel numbers of The Weather Channel, CNN, Fox News and every news outlet. For the first time in my life, I felt guilty that I only owned one TV.

The telephone was the next important tool. Thankfully, I had just opted for the unlimited long distance plan. They took and made phone calls from every relative, every friend from every state.

We heard reports of folks offering lodging to perfect strangers and there is just no way this single girl would do that, but I was happy to accommodate my friends and comfortable they wouldn't kill me in my sleep.

We watched the poor and wretched line up to enter the "Shelter of Last Resort" AKA the Louisiana Superdome. We cringed when we saw two cute little white college girls in line and wondered why the hell they didn't have another plan.

This official warning from the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration scared the shit out of us:











Our local churches offered space for New Orleans evacuees when all area hotels were filled. My church housed diabetic patients, feed them and attended to their every need.

Rumors abounded in Baton Rouge, Lafayette and Lake Charles that the thugs of New Orleans were taking over their cities. We heard astounding things here and everyone was advised to "start locking their doors".

Hurricane Katrina hit coastal Louisiana then headed to Mississippi and Alabama, bringing severe damage mostly due to storm surge. New Orleans and their displaced breathed a sigh of relief they dodged the bullet.

Then the levees broke.

I was at work when I saw the news on my computer. The 17th Street Canal levee break was blocks away from John's house and his mother's and another levee break close to his maternal grandmother's house. Whether it is 2 feet of water or eight, it was gonna be bad. For John and his mom, it was 9 feet. Mary's house "took water" in the ground level. All was lost. Three houses, two cars, two and a half house's entire contents - gone.

Their anticipated 2-3 "hurrication" turned into a life changing tragedy. All the while, they were perfect house guests.

We watched the looting, the riots and snipers. It chilled and amazed me that only 202 miles from my front door, New Orleans became a third world country overnight. How tenuous our hold on a lawful society! Yet, one hour to the west of New Orleans, Baton Rouge had power, water and order.

My guests stayed for three weeks and my entire community welcomed them. Strangers would walk up to them and say "I couldn't help but to notice that your car is from New Orleans and we are praying for you and your neighbors." The ladies were ready for their now overdue weekly hair styling so I recommended my high school friend's salon. They made the appointment and when she learned their plight, she refused payment. Another need, another recommendation: a friend fixed their windshield at no cost. An emergency dental incident resulted in pennies on the dollar bill. The neighborhood Catholic church had fellowship each night with meals from every restaurant in town. Other churches distributed clothing and household items. My reporter friend did a feature story on my friends. Two of their New Orleans evacuee friends relocated in our area saw it and called. My family and friends asked me every day what they needed. UPS boxes arrived with clothing, Ernest's gigantic hook-up box of brand new designer duds for John. Eileen sent a huge supply of fragrance and beauty goods from her luxury store employer. Out-of-town friends sent every imaginable thing.

I cried every day at work and held up a positive face at home. The second weekend they attended Catholic church on Sunday and I went to my church. We both appreciated the break from reality. During the church service, we offered prayers for all those affected. We had communion and I completely lost it. I leaned on the communion rail and couldn't get up because I was heaving with sobs. I backed into a hallway and tried to compose myself before walking back to my pew. Several congregants patted me on the back or hugged me on their way past. What a comforting place and time.

Eventually, a North Shore house was procured and they left. They were ready to "go home" and reclaim some degree of normalcy. Their agony was just beginning with the insurance companies, paperwork, phone bills, ongoing cable service charges, utilities, bureaucracy, etc. My house was quiet but I actually missed them.

They embarrassed me with their gratitude.

This year, on the anniversary of Hurricane Katrina, John's mom sent me an e-mail:
On this Katrina anniversary, we send you thanks for taking us in during a very difficult time in our lives. We'll always be grateful to you, Leezra.

My response:
Hello, I still cannot see images of Katrina destruction without tears. And I still feel guilty that I told your mom that she should have had more faith that New Orleans would do well when the hurricane seemed to go through the area without massive destruction. We didn't know the worst was yet to happen, AFTER the hurricane with the levee breaks. It taught me that it ain't over until it's over.
It was a blessing to have "you people" in my home. I was proud of my community's outpouring of support to our
New Orleans neighbors. I was proud of my friends and family that inquired about you and yours. It is EASY to care for good people like you.
And then, a month later, WE were running from a hurricane and taking refuge in someone else's home and relying on their kindness and I like to think that we had already experienced the perfect dress rehearsal of how to act. Always pleasant, always gracious and keeping a sense of humor - like you did. We now know how to better hosts and better guests.
And it is my forever hope that we won't ever need to use those skills.
Please know that you gave me more than I gave you.


Monday, October 12, 2009

Quote of the day

Crying is the refuge of plain women.
Pretty women go shopping.

Sunday, October 11, 2009

Prom Night in Mississippi

~ a documentary filmed in Charleston, Mississippi 2008. Morgan Freeman challenges the seniors of the town's high school to attend one combined prom instead of segregating to their own traditional black and white proms. As an incentive, Morgan offers to pay for the integrated prom.

The documentary follows the students in their decisions to attend or not, to plan the event and the conflicts that ensue. And sadly, the prejudiced attitudes of the Old South still remained. Some parents incited fear of violence while others were ignorantly intolerant. A "white" prom was held but sparsely attended.

But the beautiful thing was the students. Some denounced their parent's attitudes. One particular student had the support of her parents, an unlikely pair with mullets and and southern drawls. Guess I still need to learn the lesson of not judging a book by its cover. They were proud of their daughter and the opportunity of a new community attitude.

One couple, black guy and white gal, "dated" for several years but never went out in public because they were afraid of violence. Text messages and no public displays of affection were all they had before they could dance together at prom.

So touched by the shared bond the graduating seniors built and the joy shown at their first combined prom, I cried and cried during the last five minutes.

Saturday, October 10, 2009

I starve

Last night I decided I can no longer watch the Rachel Zoe Project with audio. Rachel's affected speech and limited vocabulary "lit'rally" gets on my last nerve. While I find her staff's dynamics somewhat interesting, Rachel's constant, simpering and empty praise makes me crazy. It means nothing. And Brad now parrots her. "Shut it down"? No, shut it up. She is worse than a retarded Valley Girl.

Her new line should be "I starve" instead of "I die".

My rant sister, Jennifer Worick of Things I Want to Punch in the Face, posted a Skeletor photo of Rachel today that will absolutely "lit'rally" scare you. Check it out.

Friday, October 09, 2009

Laughing at strangers

Here in southwest Louisiana, we're right in the middle of the French Cajun heritage to the east and Texas cowboy influence to the west so while people watching before a Rick Springfield concert (shut up, the tickets were free), we spied a typical cowboy chick. Not who you would expect to see at a Rick Springfield gig. She wore TIIIIIIGHT Wrangler jeans, western boots, frizzy blonde hair, big cowboy belt and of course, a BeDazzled shirt. And you could tell that she thought she looked HOT.
I was about to wonder aloud if she knew who Rick was when my friend Charles said under his breath, "Oh, girl! You put the cunt in country."

I laughed so hard I might have peed a little.

Thursday, October 08, 2009

Word of the day

Word vomit - it just comes out and now you are stepping in it.

Wednesday, October 07, 2009

My gift to society: No Skitzo Leezra spawn

I gotta a lot of grief from the time I was 17 years old because I vowed to never have children. Very few believed me and only a couple women agreed or gave me the respect for my decision. It irked me that folks would always say, "Oh, you'll change your mind." Like I didn't know myself better than they did. My gyno refused to discuss tying my tubes. He said, "There is no way I can discuss sterilization of a female with no children. Besides, who knows? Maybe next year you'll join a cult where your responsibility is to pro-create." He was trying to funny but I was appalled. My health insurance wouldn't cover birth control pills but it did pay for pregnancy and delivery. WTF?

At my class reunion, I really felt like a circus freak because so many folks asked if I (ever) married? No. Then asked how many children I had? What???! My reply became, "None that I know about." Lots of confused faces that day.

When I turned 40, it was such a relief to finally be the age that folks let it go. (Maybe by then, they know me well enough to know my parenting would be a disaster.)

Now it is so amusing to have men and women reveal to me that if they could do it all over again, they would be childless. It shocked me the first time but now I just put on my best Mona Lisa smile and don't judge.

Doing unto the others and all.

Tuesday, October 06, 2009

Quote of the day

That sucks, like shit through a straw.
--Jill Conner Browne

Monday, October 05, 2009

I got your World Wide Pants, right here

Toni left a comment for me:

"I hope you post some thoughts about the Letterman extortion story. You always have an interesting spin on stars gone bad."

Thanks, Toni! I appreciate the prod.

Here's the thing, when I ponder a conflict, I cannot help but to get all anal retentive and organized about it and attempt to sort the issues in separate little piles. The David Letterman controversy has so many aspects. Just a few levels for ya:

  1. Power corrupts - Martin Mull once said "Hollywood is like high school with money". Think about that - having money, power, status while operating at an immature level. Plus everyone says yes to the big guy, especially if it fits their own agenda.

  2. Don't shit where you eat - in other words, don't mess around with the employees. Kinda bad: dating a co-worker. Real bad: a boss dating low level employees. Super bad: exposing yourself to sexual discrimination/harassment accusations.

  3. Karma is a bitch - then she has puppies. Making fun of others in similar positions seems to have bitten him in the ass. (Bill Clinton, Elliot Spitzer and Sara Palin are probably laughing their asses off today.)*

  4. Fidelity is relative - who knows if Dave was married when the liasions occurred but perhaps he and his wife have a unique understanding.

  5. Pride goes before the fall - the guys with the squeaky clean image have the most to lose. Watch your hubris, Jay Leno.

  6. Own up to it - David knows what countless others have not learned. It's not the first lie that gets in you in deep trouble, it's the cover up lies that sink you. Ask Martha Stewart, the Argentina visiting MIA South Carolina governor Mark Sanford and the now "out" former New Jersey governor Jim McGreevey. My mom said it and your mom probably did too: it's bad that you broke a rule but it is even worse if you lie about it.

That said, I admire Dave's decision to admit his mistakes before Pandora's box opened.

* I enjoy David's humor and like his ribbing of public personalities.

Sunday, October 04, 2009

Say my name, say my name

It just occurred to me that you might read my name and not know how to say it. It is pronounced Skitzo Leeee-zra. And only today did I realize that someone may assume that it could be Les-ra.
Not that there's anything wrong with that.
But I like dudes.
Here's the irony, my high school friend Leenie gave me the Skitzo Leezra moniker because I could be a moody bitch; skitzo, if you will. One day happy, the next day bitter. Not a lot has changed in the last 20 years.
But Leenie? She figured out she was gay, after being married for several years. Maybe that explains her teenage moodiness and ability to be my best friend one day and display complete coldness the next.
We speak every 10 years or so. She lives in Seattle now and I hope good things for her. She'd laugh if she thought her old nickname for me might cause confusion. She'd love that shit.

Friday, October 02, 2009

Quote of the day

I am trying to make chicken salad out of chicken shit.
--uttered by Jay Thomas on his Sirius satellite radio show
when his guest was less than interesting

Thursday, October 01, 2009

Skitzo Leezra's Open Letter To Bloggers

I am a blog freak, have many bookmarks and wander all over the intra'net so feel qualified to compose this missive to the blogger world:

  • please don't include music on your site. I am watching this stuff at work and you are gonna get me in trouble! Provide a link, if you must, but no automatic downloads. Not once have I dug or wanted to hear more than the first 10 seconds.
  • set your blog to show limited photos per page so I don't have to wait 30 minutes for the page to download. I know how to page back and would rather hit the "previous" or "older" button 4 times than wait forever for one page.
  • use tags! If I am looking for that awesome post from a week ago, tags would be helpful. Categories are good too. Plus, I wouldn't have to look at every dang cutesy photo of your spawn.
  • which brings me to, enough with the pictures of your spawn. Are none of you concerned with predators, pedophiles, perverts or just plain old weirdos?
  • no obscure links. Read one last week. "I like this". No reference, no nothing. Did I click on the link? No. I don't have time to care if you don't have time to explain or describe.

Bloggers out there: Love checking out your blogs. You inspire me to post more or sometimes, just by jogging my memory. Keep on keepin' on with your bad selves.

Many thanks for reading my missive. Feel free to share it. I don't even care if you don't give me credit for it. But feel free to, if you like.

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