Cowboy Mouth

The best live bar band in the world is/was the Cowboy Mouth, a kickin' band from New Orleans. They lift you up, amuse you and touch your heart. They are like a drunken revival for the soul. Here's a (not great quality) video performance of the song "How Do You Tell Someone You Don't Love Them?"

It is a poignant song if you've ever broken up with someone. You once loved them but you don't anymore. How do you say it?

how do you tell someone you don't love them?
how do you tell someone you don't care anymore?
how do you tell someone you don't love them anymore?

Heartbreaking, right?

'Cept my drunk ass heard it at a live concert right after I broke up with the alcoholic boyfriend. I had just told him I didn't love him anymore. Hell, I had to say it over and over before he finally realized I meant it. Go away, already.

Cowboy Mouth is singing angst and I am feeling happy to be rid of "love".

After each refrain, I loudly shouted a different way to tell him I didn't love him anymore.

"Get the FUCK OUT!"

"Change the fucking locks!"

My friends were so entertained by my intoxicated bitterness that they expected the same witty performance from me at each following Cowboy Mouth concert.

Since then I have added:

"Blow his dad!"

"Give him VD!",

"MARRY him",

etc.

Fast forward to seeing Cowboy Mouth's drummer and lead singer Fred LeBlanc "unplugged" at Carrollton Station in Uptown, it's just him and his guitar. As he softly sang a less rockin' version of "How Do You Tell Someone You Don't Love Them", my friends were nudging me when the refrain came and I just couldn't do it. I mean, Fred was sitting five feet away and the room was so quiet.

The cute college girls in front of me giggled and yelled out something, MUCH TO MY CHAGRIN and AMAZEMENT. Mind you, I take complete credit for it because they probably heard me at a previous concert. I was loud, I tell ya.

Anywho, gauntlet now thrown, I chimed in on the next chorus. And the cute girls took the next. Fred sat there, singing, his poignant mood broken while we shat all over his song. Thankfully, he ended the song with a laugh and a smile and remarked that he had never heard HIS song quite like that.

All's well that ends well, he awarded me with his handwritten play sheet after the show. Now framed and hanging on my wall.

Duh! of the Day

Ricky Martin announced that he is gay on Monday.
Like we didn't have a clue 11 years ago when he was Livin' the Vida Loca.
Nobody has given a shit thought about him or his music in a decade so it didn't take a whole lot of bravery or risk to announce his homosexuality now, right?
Come on out, Ricky, we all knew you were gay from the very first nanosecond we laid eyes on ya. Besides, you're taking up valuable room in that gay closet, ya selfish bastard. Plenty of priests and politicians need the space in there.

Funny ass shit: My friend Tammy

Today's series begins a gathering of memories that will make me smile and maybe even giggle when recalled. Please to enjoy, the first installment of Funny Ass Shit.

Okay, junior high, last class of the day, school gym, last day of the school year, last day of junior high.

The basketball court is halved by a hanging curtain, girls on one side, guys on the other.


10 minutes until the bell rings and we're sitting on the bench with our book bags and gym bags from our just emptied lockers. Darlene realized a strong scent was emanating from her gym bag, opened it and realized the cap fell off her solid stick deodorant. It had smeared all over the items in the bag and had seeped through the outer fabric. Darlene pulls out the sticky and gooey deodorant base and wondered what to do with it. No trash can nearby. Tammy, ever the wisenheimer, takes one look at it and exclaims, "That looks like a dildo!"


I had never heard that word before but the phallic goo gave me a good idea what it meant. Seven or so teenage girl voices provide a collective, "Ewwwwwwww!"
Darlene was blushing but laughing. Tammy holds out her hand and says, "Give it here."
She stands up and for a second or two, we guess she has volunteered to discard the deodorant schlong but with her lightning fast all star champion softball pitcher athletic skill, she heaves it up and over the curtain divider and manages to clear the ceiling supports - towards the guy's half of the gym.
We're in shock. The girls that weren't paying attention to us before saw Tammy launch something over the curtain. Then we hear it land on the wood floor. It sounded just like you would imagine a high velocity smushy dildo would.
Sixty male voices say in unison, "Whhoooooaaaaa!"
"WHAT the HELL?!"
That's the distinctive but angry voice of Coach James.
Oh shiiiiiiiiiit. We sit down on the bench and try to ignore the oncoming loud steps while faking casual conversation. Tammy wipes the goo from her hands onto her jeans just as Coach James strides through the curtain and yells, "Which one of you threw that thing thing in my gym?"
RRRRRRrrriiiiiiiiinnnnnnnnggggggggg!
We scrambled outta there, electrified. Not until we burst through the front door of the school, did we allow ourselves to breathe and finally laugh.
I'm still laughing.
Tammy was a rock star that day.
And when I saw her last December, thirty years later, she still had my huge respect for her no fear, no plan Hail Mary bravado pass of a opaque slimy faux sex toy and the ability to complete it.

Sandra Bullock V. The Ladder

You should probably read my entry about the Attraction Ladder to understand why I postulate that Sandra Bullock messed up by getting stuck on her bad boy ladder rung.
Let it sink in before you look at the date I posted said theory. Waaaaay before any of the sordid Jesse James news was reported. It's a pull of the Skitzo Leezra slot machine, folks, one day I am a genius; next day, a goofball.

Unfair play + a do-over = still sucks

A survey asked adults if a citizen were guilty of a crime without a smidgen of doubt, would they subject that person to be punished as lawfully appropriate? Not surprisingly, the overwhelming majority answered yes.
The very same survey asked the same adults if that guilty citizen were themselves, would they want to get off on a technicality? Same number answered yes.
Which means what? If you aren't the one judged, it's easy to have morals? Or do we want the opportunity to beat the system?
I often think of those same survey answers when I confront a moral issue and I try to consider it as the person wronged and the person with the advantage but today I am having a tough time putting myself in the place of committee or leadership staffers that produced a loophole for themselves in the health care bill that would affect everyone but them. They wrote and influence the bills and laws but insured that they are not affected. That's one heck of an advantage. It is the very definition of hubris.
The Senate voted today to close the hidden loophole but it failed 43 - 56.
Here's a quote by Chuck Grassley (Republican of Iowa), “It’s only fair and logical that administration leaders and congressional staff, who fought so hard to overhaul of America’s health care system, experience it themselves. If the reforms are as good as promised, then they’ll know it first-hand. If there are problems, public officials will be in a position to really understand the problems, as they should.”

My still childlike sense of fair play is offended.

For our Irish friends

You heard me

Word of the day

I know Emily Post's rules of etiquette frontways and backways but you'd never guess it if you heard my trucker mouth so upon learning a secret way to say "fuck you", I couldn't wait to get back and report to you. Pay attention, kittens, and learn.
At a formal meeting of females, the most esteemed leader was interrupted by a junior shit stirrer in regards to specific ruledom and such but the point was a month-old and moot. M.E.L. raised her eyebrows while S.S. made her comment in a very tattletale tone.
((Lean in and try to spot it . . . .))
M.E.L. very professionally said, "Noted" and adjourned the meeting.
Shit Stirrer, you just got schooled! Noted? No discussion, no explanation, no defensiveness but pretty much dismissed.

Practice it today and report back to me.

Noted.

I'm kind of a big deal

Two awards, that's dos, I tell ya, in one day! Woo Hoo!
Louisiana Belle named me on her blog yesterday to receive the Over The Top award with the following introduction:

She describes herself as irreverent and sensitive, and I would agree! LOL. Also a fellow Louisianian, she knows how to express herself and is not shy about it. She posts all kinds of stuff from celebrities to jizz cakes. She also loves Friday Night Lights and for that, she will always be held in high esteem.

I walk to the stage with my long flowy gown cotton bathrobe and breathlessly say into the microphone "Why, thank you, Gail the Louisiana Belle! Thank you for liking me for me. We Louisianians can smell our own and for the rest of you, it might resemble a mix of crab boil juice, petroleum products, fragrant magnolias and spilled beer, let me be the first to tell ya it is much, much more. If you want to learn more, read our blogs every single day even if there isn't a new posting, go back to the beginning of our writing endeavors. The more you read of her blog, the more you'll like her. Mine? Not so much. Lastly, I would like to thank the ever wonderful La Belle for showing it can be about the performance and not the politics."


And if that wasn't cool enough, Kittie of The Block , another chick from the boot-shaped Great State of Louisiana, included me in her Honest Scrap award listing.

Not sure if the award is as it reads OR as it sounds. Say it aloud. Do you hear Honest Crap? Neveryoumind, I'll take the honor any which way or form I can. If you haven't checked out Kittie's blog yet, you should. She has a wealth of experiences and tells the best tales by painting her stories with detail, history and character.

Thanks Gail and Kittie! 'Preciate ya!

How to accept an Oscar

First of all, if you are up for an Oscar award, make every effort to be in the category of lone performers but if not possible, attempt to perform the said job alone because if you are a member of a winning team, there is a good chance you'll never get close to the microphone. It amazes me that those gobsmacked idiots on the back row aren't sprinting to the stage. Run, I tell ya, grab that mic and get on it.
Let's just suppose that I were one of a five member team and we were one of four teams nominated so that's a 25% chance of winning. My control freak tendencies would be activated and there would most definitely be a rehearsal of our acceptance and I would go first, of course. A witty rehearsed speech, song or at least a rhyme would guarantee the avoidance of the orchestra playing us out. A few years ago, a team of guys mentioned a website address and said an acceptance speech had been previously recorded and their webmaster was instructed to post it if they won. That's planning and pro-active thinking, my friend.
If the back row teams don't have enough organization or wherewithal to plan for a win, perhaps 45 seconds, a dead microphone and a shameful rising of music is what they deserve. Forget that I said anything.
Now judging those groups and no longer feeling sorry for them,
I am,
Skitzo Leezra

Oscar 2010 recap

I skipped last year's Oscar recap because I was on St. Charles Avenue in New Orleans catching beads during last year's Carnival weekend and almost skipped this year because it was so doggone boring. Feel free to check out previous year's reports for more entertainment.
Let's just start off with a Why The Hell? The Neil Patrick Harris opening number with the Bugsy Berkley dance was stupid stoopid, overworked and completely unnecessary as was the godawful interpretive dance session that gives all award shows a bad name. No wonder the show goes so long!
Jack Nicholson is usually the overworked go-to live audience shot but with his absence this year (plus Brad and Angie), there seemed to be a dedicated George Clooney camera to record his every reaction, laugh, forehead crease and eye wrinkle.
Lots of chiffon dresses with voluminous fabric, some pretty and some not necessarily flattering. Demi Moore's dress was really pretty but the color was wrong.

Sandra Bullock looked very glamorous and her dress looked better on stage than the red carpet. More silvery and shimmery.


Sandra's acceptance speech for winning Best Actress for her role in The Blind Side was touching and humorous. She acknowledged "the moms that take care of the babies and the children, no matter where they come from. Those moms and parents never get thanked" which was her role in the movie but perhaps a personal thought since she and husband Jesse James are raising his daughter from his sometimes jailed porn star ex.

Geez Louise, the music was so horrible. The orchestra played Helen Reddy's "I Am Woman" when the first ever female (Kathryn Bigelow) won Best Director for Hurt Locker. Really? Helen Fuckin' Reddy?

Shakin' my head and going to bed because I stayed way too late last night for no good reason.

It's Friday and the juke joint is hoppin'

At least that's what it sounds like in my office right now as I listen to KRVS Radio Acadie online during their "Blues Box" show and next is "American Routes", a great show highlighting diverse and sometimes eclectic music. Check it out at KRVS.org and click on the LISTEN NOW link above the crescent moon on the header.
Hey Laaaaaaaaaaaaa Baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhh!

What are your cell phone rules?

Seems since the cell phone revolution there has been a need to redefine rude behavior.

We all have stories of the most egregious example of cell phone use. My friend John told of a woman reaching for her obnoxiously loud singing ring tone phone during a funeral service and answering it! Last week I observed one board member zone out of listening to the proceedings while texting and seconds later another member reached into her purse to turn off her buzzing phone but read the incoming message before resuming her attention to the subject at hand. But get this, I learned later that the texting member was sending her a message from across the table! WTF?!

Am I the only one to find those behaviors unbelievably inconsiderate?

In a doctor's waiting room, I almost lost it while listening to a chick text on an older phone which requires the user to click each # key to arrive at the correct letter. Example, to type in a "O", she had press the "6" key three times. That's a lot of key pushes to compose a text message, right? Did the fat ugly bitch have her key pad tone turned off? Of course not. I glared at her at first and then resorted to openly staring at her each and every time she did it. Had I ripped her face off (like a crazed and Xanax-drugged chimpanzee), the medical attention wouldn't be far away, I reasoned. Instead I bargained with myself, if she does one more time before the nurse calls me to the examining room, I'll nicely ask her if she would like me to show her how to mute the key pad sound. If she responds in a less than gracious way, then I'll begin the facial transplant.

Here are MY cell phone rules when in quiet settings (church, meetings, meals):

• If you have children, you are allowed to set your phone on vibrate to receive an emergency call.


• If you didn't have a phone 10 years ago, you sat through a boring meeting and sucked it up. Suck it up now.


• If you don't know how to immediately stop a ringing phone, get a youngster to show you how.


• Don't call me from the concert to let me know you're thinking of me. The garbled music and incomprehensible message do not brighten my day. Don't care.


• If I send you an e-mail at midnight causing your smart phone to generate an incoming message sound and it wakes you up, too fucking bad. Learn how to set it to "phone only", dumbass.


• If your phone screen blinds me more than once during a movie, I will throw ice or candy from my mouth at you. I will embarrass myself to call you out, I have no shame and no children so a night in jail is no threat to me.


• I don't care if you talk on your phone while driving as long as you drive safely and at a speed 10 miles over the lawful rate. If I observe weaving or driving in the left hand lane on the interstate (the FAST lane), I will call 911 and report a drunk driver with your license plate number and wildly exaggerate your driving behavior. As far as I'm concerned, you are an impaired driver so let the cops figure it out.

Stop being afraid of road rage and start considering phone rage and how large your (unlubricated) phone is compared to your sphincter muscle.

Have a blessed day now, y'hear?

Fuck with nature and nature will fuck with you

Killer whale Tilikum* knocks over trainer at Sea World show and kills her.


Crocodile Hunter Steven Irwin killed by stingray.


Trained tiger makes kibble of Roy Horn in the Siegfried and Roy show at the Mirage hotel and casino in Las Vegas.


How about that old lady's 200 pound chimpanzee who ripped off the face of her friend?

((dude, I cannot post
a photo of her mauled face,
it is too gross))

Mess with a wild animal and watch your back, dummies.

*This is Tilikum's third kill. Wonder if Tilikum gets a killer whale gang tattoo of a teardrop on his face near his eye? Should Tilikum have three teardrops? Filled in? Somebody clue me in on killer whale gang symbols.