Skitzo Leezra - Which Personality Am I Today?

Don't wanna

2012-01-10T07:00:00.000-06:00

If you check out my craft blog at Skitzo Leezra Studio, you'll see baby gifts lovingly handmade by me but what you won't hear from me is how much fun I had at a baby shower because this bitch doesn't go to baby showers. The too-honest personality in my head frankly tells new mothers that I'd rather take an ass beating than to hang with a bunch of yentas telling their horrifying delivery stories. The breeder ladies usually let me off the hook when I promise a cute gift.

"But you would love it!" is usually a cue of the opposite.

Years ago, my friends wanted me to join them in for a male stripper shows. If you really knew me, you'd know I find it morally reprehensible, tacky and besides, I way too cheap to give money to gyrating greasy men. Sex toy parties? No way. Lingerie bridal shower? Don't look for me there. Just because I have a sailor mouth doesn't mean I enjoy tawdry activities, ya skanks.

Alternately, have received pressure to attend an activity of zero interest, be it a pottery party or paint studio party. Being crafty doesn't mean I want to paint-by-the-numbers crap. "I can't attend" becomes "that's not my thing" when met with resistance. Why? Is my rejection a lack of validation for other's good time? Am I such fun that a good time can't be had if I'm not there? Probably.

Let's respect our differences.
Don't wanna go.
Don't make me hurt your feelings.

I had a blind date last night

2012-01-08T07:00:00.001-06:00

Say those words and watch everyone's ears prick up. Prick up? Maybe it's "perk" up. Yes. Perk up. That sounds better. Anywho, heads swing toward your blow hole because no one is immune to the curiosity of your first date pronouncement. While you may suppose it is primarily chick talk, married dudes lean in too, I tell ya. Single guys pretend not too listen except they do.

Years ago, a few friends and I attended a New Orleans singles party hosted by the weekly publication Gambit. The party admission required submission of a free classified ad to promote their new dating section. After a few drinks, we composed somewhat amusing postings and they provided a month's entertainment as we listened to the incoming phone responses and compared notes. One guy left an amazing recording with insight, humor and sensitivity then we realized the very same message was left on each of our accounts. We met and even went out with some of our suitors and we compared notes again.

Agreed: most guys lied about their height, everyone thinks themselves to be "somewhat attractive" and most guys say they'll call when they don't know what else to say.

My red headed New Orleans friend told the most amusing stories about her dating adventures with horrible table manners or awkward first kisses. It became habit for her friends and family to expect an interesting anecdote but when she found a true contender for love, it was difficult for her to resign from the dating story business. Her folks wanted to hear about the embarrassing details but she wanted to cherish and enjoy her new beau.

Rarely do my sister RikkiTikkiTavi and I ever disagree but when she blabbed that I've recently begun dating, a boundary was crossed. Her happiness for me is one thing but my privacy is another althoooooough I'm a super hypocrite because who doesn't love hearing about the entertaining and sometimes amusing trials and tribulations of a single girl dating HOWEVER (comma) I don't like it when it's me. In other words, my life ain't a chick flick.

The questions are from every angle -
Where does he work?
How much money does he make?
How did ya'll meet?
Is he a Christian?
How many times has he been married?

None of your damned business and shut up.

Okay, that said, you don't have my permission to ask about my dating schedule HOWEVER, since you stuck with me this far, I will share a recent story.

You're welcome~~

You don't get to know his name, where he works or how we met.

We had a great first date where we met at a bar, had a couple drinks and attended a nearby musical performance. We held hands, laughed and shared short kiss at the end of the night. He held the doors and texted me later to make sure I made it home. He said he enjoyed the evening and wanted to get together the same weekend. A few days went by. No call. Sure, I could've texted him but the more time went by, the more I wondered if he was actually interested. Apparently not. Five weeks went by. Then I saw him at my work place. He said his "phone got jacked" thus, he no longer had my cell phone number and couldn't reach me. (Mind you, he knew where I worked.)

"Call my cell number so I'll have your number again," he asked.

Okaaaaay.

Then, "Let's get together this weekend. How about dinner? Do you like Mexican?"

And I never heard from him again.

Dating fucking sucks.

Do you really want to ask me about my dating life? Do you really want to see my disappointment in the one guy I liked who didn't call but the other guys in whom I have no interest but they can't get enough of Skitzo Leezra? It's the same story since junior high.

The concept of arranged marriage has a certain appeal.

Dating sucks.
Like shit through a straw.

Living the ~~glamorous~~ life of a single girl,
I am,
Skitzo Leezra

You've got mail

2011-12-06T07:00:00.000-06:00

Or maybe not.
Spied this amazing bit of Cajun engineering on my way to the bank . . .
What do you suppose the story was behind the dangling-from-a-rope mailbox?

Say my name

2011-12-02T22:42:00.004-06:00

Watching "Something to Talk About" movie tonight and noticed the Julia Roberts character (Grace) propose the Junior League ladies use their own name in their cookbook instead of their husband's names. My volunteer group dropped the practice as late as 1982. It seems so ancient that a woman was known as Mrs. John Thibodeaux instead of Marie Boudreaux Thibodeaux. And to think a second wife would also be Mrs. John Thibodeaux?
My high school reunion committee easily located the guys but the women were more difficult to find because their names changed. As I reached a "certain age", I realized it would be silly to change my name were I to ever marry. (Ha.)
While I am not declaring a lady should keep her maiden name, being Mrs. John Thibodeaux is just plain ol' stoopid.
And when the hell did I stop being "Miss" and become "Ms"? I dislike both.
I am,
(just plain ol') Skitzo Leezra.

Who's happy?

2011-11-28T07:00:00.000-06:00

Found a note in my old email bin about Louisiana being at the top of the most happy states.
My response was ~~
I live in Louisiana and I'm pretty happy. When The Great State of Louisiana hits the bottom and top of so many lists (illiteracy, unmarried moms, welfare recipients, obesity, incarceration rates, uninsured drivers, convicted politicians, etc.), it lessens our stress levels along with our expectations so we can get to the more important things like going to our local drive-thru daiquiri stands, drinking said beverage while driving, buying toxic made-in-China Mardi Gras beads and eating polluted water crawfish.
Laissez les temps rouler, ya'll!

Need a ride, doll?

2011-11-25T02:56:00.001-06:00

If YOU had a ton of dolls that didn't go away with the garage sale, would you line them up along the street? Because maybe someone would like to pick up a used, unclothed and somewhat filthy doll baby?
OR~~~ perhaps a lone individual would pick up every single last one? Yep, all of 'em gone in one single abduction.

A different story from 9/11

2011-11-07T21:46:00.001-06:00

Perhaps one you haven't seen yet.

A bit heavy on the drama music but a beautiful message all the same.

(Thanks to Keri Spice for the link.)

Overheard

2011-10-15T10:34:00.004-05:00

Sitting at a bar as the large screen television flashes a news story of a hockey mom who had sex with her son's teenaged team mates.
All eyes watched the screen as the music and conversation quieted just enough so the entire bar overheard a female voice exclaim, "What? Is there something wrong with that? No, really, is it wrong to have sex with a teenage boy? REally?! Oh, okay, good to know."

Then, the guy next to me piped up with "I didn't play hockey but something similar happened with my friend's mom."

Hello, conversation starter!

Overheard

2011-10-12T07:00:00.001-05:00

one female to another:
"Look, I had sex with the last guy just because he sent me a random text every five days or so . . . so YOU KNOW I have no problem giving it up to my new guy if I thought I'd get an Iphone or a bigger TV out of him."

This

2011-08-04T07:00:00.000-05:00

I pulled up to my parking spot and saw my co-worker do the same. Her car door opened and music blared out. She stepped out in high-heeled pumps, fingers snapping and held above her head. Erasure sang "Chains of Love" with the off-key and off-beat beeping reminder of the car key in ignition. She danced in a little circle and smiled. I stood in the sunshine and laughed. Hope I am that carefree when I am her age, I thought. Hope I still listen to the end of the song and feel unembarrassed to break in a little dance.

The carefree and fun moment stuck in my mind when I saw her pull up to her parking place a week later and slump over her steering wheel in heaving sobs. Just days after the parking lot floor show, her son died in a tragic drug binge induced pedestrian hit and run.

She danced and later she sobbed on the very same pavement.
That was 14 years ago.

Last month, I saw long lost friends on the evening of their oldest child's senior prom. My friends were older but still smiling and beautiful. Married for close to 20 years, I could tell they were still in love. Sipping on a drive thru daiquiri, she pointed out her pretty daughter. We laughed and remininsced for a few minutes. Then they walked across the lawn to take photos.

Today, they buried their 17 year old son. He fell asleep while driving.

I thought about how happy and beautiful his parents were last month. And I thought of my co-worker 14 years ago.
And I remembered the sermon my pastor once shared with the words that will make a happy man sad and sad man happy:
This too shall pass

It get worse.
It gets better.

Enjoy the hell out of the better before it gets worse. Dance to it. Crank it until it blows your mother fucking speakers. Smile until it makes little crinkles around your eyes.

Pissing away the time

2011-08-03T07:00:00.000-05:00

Thank you, vivid dream of searching for clean restroom. Vivid dream, you woke me when my alarm clock didn't.

If it weren't for the increasing pressure on my pee pouch, pretty sure I'd never get out of bed or off the couch.
Worse thing that could ever happen is incontinence. Why bother getting up?

Urine my thoughts, good people!

How Lady Gaga ruined my make-up

2011-07-26T07:00:00.000-05:00

And made my morning.

My typical morning commute includes Howard Stern on Sirius radio. Lady Gaga explained her song "On the Edge of Glory" before performing it. By the time I pulled into my parking place at work, my mascara had become watery puddles on my cheek.

Listen to the story here. Stop at 2:33 and watch her live performance at the link at the bottom.

Watch the performance here.

In case you missed it

2011-07-13T07:00:00.001-05:00

Just re-read an old comment on my rant regarding Nadya Suleman (Octomom):

If she were a mama dog, her children would be sold in the parking lot of a WalMart.

Hanging out

2011-07-11T07:00:00.001-05:00

Yesterday afternoon, the 7 year old nephew Gregory and I were floating in the pool when he said, "Look at your hands."

I held up my water shriveled fingers and said, "Yeah, they wrinkly from the water."

"No, look at the other side. It's wrinkly too. You have OLD LADY HANDS!"

I laughed so hard I began to hack like a water deprived cat.

Then I had to make sure Gregory understood others may not react with laughter if they heard the same.

Typing this with crow-like hands,
I am,
Skitzo Leezra

Really?

2011-07-07T22:38:00.003-05:00

Same person.
One weekend.
Stoopid quotes:

"Life is too short for crushed ice."

"I've never been to Sonic drive-in before. I'm a Sonic virgin." (then ordered nothing)

"Ribs? Oh, no, none for me. I've never eaten anything off the bone. No! Never. Really. Okay, yes, if you remove the meat from the bone, I'll eat it."

Okay, let's play a fun interactive game and please leave a comment to guess the age, gender or particulars of the above idiot.

Overheard

2011-07-01T07:00:00.000-05:00

One salesperson to another:
"Sometimes I think when people say they're 'retired', they really mean 'retarded'."

Repressed thoughts

2011-06-11T00:04:00.004-05:00

No, I didn't watch a minute of Okrah's departure and if you did, is your pathetic life is sad that you couldn't find the remote control?

Am I the only one who cannot wait for some serious dirt on her? And while we're at it, here's hoping squeaky clean Will Smith and Jay Leno are soon revealed with disturbing indiscretions. I am so not buying their milquetoast personaes.

I didn't seriously dislike Okrah until the "Hermes incident". If you don't remember, click the link above. Okrah pulled a celebrity hissy fit after being turned away from the closed Parisian luxury goods store.

As a former retail dog and a current salesperson, Okrah's arrogance pissed me off. She pulled the race card but I just chalk it up as general assholery. When Okrah demanded service after store hours, she basically said her time was more important than the employees who worked a full day and on their way home. It is the height of hubris and arrogance. Pull that shit in a restaurant just minutes from closing and then wonder why your food doesn't taste quite right.

As you may recall, I sell plumbing faucets and fixtures. I gotta tell ya, when a customer comes in and proudly tells me they want oil rubbed bronze faucets, it takes everything I have not to roll my eyes. Ugh, so OVER brown faucets. It has been done to death and it's so very fake. Mark my words, oil rubbed bronze is the antique brass of yesterday.

Nasty and nasty.

So enjoying the drought. You should see my tan!

Future comic

2011-05-03T07:00:00.000-05:00

My youngest nephew (7 years old) said something and included the word "butt" in it except it didn't elicit the reaction he expected.

"You know, Gregory, just because you say 'butt' doesn't mean it's funny. You can't just say 'butt' and think people will laugh," I told him.

"At school, they do," Gregory replied.

Going for the laugh, even in first grade, the little wisenheimer is on his way to class clown.

NOsama

2011-05-02T22:04:00.002-05:00

Here's hoping Osama was met with his promised 72 virgins and everyone of them into "scat play". Have fun, Asshole!

How I almost got my ass kicked

2011-05-01T13:14:00.004-05:00

That title could be used for so many Skitzo Leezra stories. Just ask my sister Rikki Tikki Tavi. She says I've been so close to many a deserved ass kicking that when it finally happens, she won't even pretend to protect me. My wisenheimer mouth gets me really close to the invisible line of retaliation but my quick wit (or else a quick retreat) always keeps me safe. Believe it or not, I've never been physically assaulted.

Anywho, yesterday I was driving through the meandering streets near my neighborhood, coming a stop sign and preparing to turn right. A vehicle approached from my right. It was turning left but did a cross-the-lane turn. Y'know, the kind of left hand turn you do when no other cars are present? Because your vehicle would prevent another from turning?

#2 blue car is me. #1 yellow car is The Dick.

The other vehicle's careless turn came within inches of removing my driver side front bumper.

"What a dick," I thought as I did a fake-out veer. (My mom taught me that trick. Slide your hand along the steering wheel as if you are turning but don't.)

The Dick saw the fake veer and apparently believed it to be real because he braked and stopped. I hesitated at the stop sign. He didn't roll down the window or communicate so I drove on but what did I soon see in my rear view mirror? Yep, The Dick was following me.

I slowed to a stop, rolled down the window, let The Dick pull even with me and asked "Do you have something you need to say to me?"
(Nooooo, I didn't honestly expect an apology but was curious about The Dick's message.)

He yelled, "What's up with turning toward my lane? Were you trying to hit me?"

"No, I wasn't trying to hit you but it got your attention, didn't it?" And I gotta admit, even though road rage was showing its very ugly and reddening face and I was just seconds from a pummeling by an angry white guy, I kinda smirked.

"Well, you better change your cunt attitude or someone is going to run you over!"

I couldn't help myself. I laughed out loud and it seemed to piss him off more. He released the clutch enough to drive away but not before I yelled in my loudest and proudest sorority girl voice "You tooooooooooooooo!"

He popped the clutch and sped away.

And I snorted while laughing.

Really, Dick? You drive like a jackhole, follow a lone white female driver to yell at her and when she laughs at you, you speed away?

Still snickering and a little glad not to be shot in the face, I see him pull into a driveway. Cell phone out. I pretend to take his photo while he pretended not to see me but manoshevitz, his body language was some kind of angry.

My brother Rollo came by later and I told him the story. He wished I had driven to his house so The Dick would've confronted me there. And the we laughed because if there is anything that is NOT gonna change, it's my cunt attitude.

Have a blessed day, Dick!

It don't make no sense

2011-03-24T20:52:00.003-05:00

Devil's food cake.
What the hell is it, really?
It's not chocolate but it's brown. A better name might be Devil's Asshole.
Okay, next.
Red Velvet Cake: also stoopid. Guess what it's made of? Devil's Food cake and red food coloring.
The only good use of Red Velvet Cake is a bleeding armadillo a la the Steel Magnolia's groom cake.

And for the record, carrot cake should not taste like a spice cake.
And coconut should not be hidden. Coconut should be announced with the icing or cake embellishment. I do not enjoy biting into a cake and spitting out the devil's toenails. But I will.

Oscars 2011

2011-02-27T22:59:00.003-06:00

“Why didn’t I lose that twenty pounds?” –Robert Stromberg

Which Academy genius suggested Kurt Douglas as presenter? Why not have Dick Clark join him as a co-presenter? Oh, my gosh, you’re breaking the first rule of show biz: leave them wanting more.

Best supporting presenting actress Melissa Leo - loved her genuine surprise, awkwardness and her live television F-bomb.

Justin Timberlake isn’t nearly as cute as he thinks he is. Not even close.

Why are Josh Brolin and Javier Bardem presenting together in matching ecru tuxedos? The look seems too unique to be accidental.

Randy Newman – witty, as usual.

2001: first win after nominated 15 times. "I don't need your pity".

2011: 20 nominations, second win. "Not a good percentage."

The “In Memoriam” montage with Celine Dion singing “Smile” was bearable because it avoided the awkward lulls of applause when a less famous face appeared.

Amusing speech by The King’s Speech director Tom Hooper which blended the appreciation of his mother and reference to his “triangle of man love” with Geoffrey Rush and Colin Firth.

Anne Hathaway – enjoyed her many wardrobe changes but there’s no need to ask her back as an Oscar host. Her behavior better fit hosting “Saturday Night Live”.

Colin Firth’s speech was the usual self deprecating witty British repartee you’d expect. Wonder if it was rehearsed or truly off-the-cuff?

The finale of school children singing “Somewhere Over The Rainbow” with the award winners was touching.

To wrap up: good movies with weak hosting by Anne Hathaway and James Franco.

Again I say, no need for the musical presentations.

Looking forward to watching this week’s episode of “Fashion Police” with Joan Rivers.

Good night, good people out there in The Intranet.

A surprising realization

2011-02-27T20:49:00.003-06:00

It's Carnival season in Louisiana, I've been invited to many balls and parties and nothing about it appeals to me. While I love fashion, enjoy looking at formal wear and love shopping for a pretty evening bag and shoes, it took me thirty years to realize I don't enjoy dressing up.

A few years ago, Ernest and Eileen opted for a black tie wedding and Ernest informed his oldest friends he fully expected us to fulfill the example set by Carnival krewe requirements. When adhering to the black tie and formal gown decree, it means gowns to the floor. In this neck of the South, we've all heard the stories of ladies being being turned away from a ball because their dress was not a gown.
So, c'mon, Ernest, no cocktail dresses? No. But you know some women will show up in a short cute cocktail dress? Ernest stood firm, "no friend of his didn't understand the dress code". I enjoyed the evening and loved seeing our friends in their finery but it was that night I realized I never wanted to wear a formal gown again. As part girly girl and part tomboy, it was a disappointment and a shock to finally be truthful to myself. I liked helping sis Rikki Tikki Tavi select her formal accessories but the closest I want to get to the formals is staying home in my pjs to watch the Oscar pre-show and fashion recaps with Joan Rivers.

When I heard guys say they don't like wearing a tux, I used to chalk them up as socially inept or redneck but I get it now.

Watching the Oscars in pj pants and T-shirt,
and judging other's coiffure and garb,
I am,
Skitzo Leezra

Puh-lease

2011-02-23T19:47:00.003-06:00

Elizabeth and I decided today to hate pretentious women who call the room adjoining their kitchen "keeping rooms".
We love a butler's pantry, we dig gift wrap rooms and we both have a craft room/studio.

However.

Suburban chicks do not equal estate ladies.

While Elizabeth and I can totally admit to being snobby bitches, pretentious we are not. Nevuh.
Now don't you go thinking I approve of the term "den". Just no. Animals reside in dens.

Blogged from my hovel/pre-hoarder house,
I am,
Skitzo Leezra

Dawn's Rant of the Day

2011-02-08T07:00:00.000-06:00

Why is it considered a compliment for someone to tell you you've lost a "ton" of weight? All that communicates is that, at some point in the past, the person weighed more than a ton. What's wrong with "wow, you're looking terrific"? Specifics are not at all necessary in compliments.

And on that note, one shouldn't assume because a person goes to the gym every day that they are trying to lose weight. What if they're exactly where they want to be and trying to maintain?

Here's my advice for a pat response to "you look like you're losing weight" - -

"Really?!!! I'd better go see my doctor then. Golly, I hope I don't have cancer".

Then just walk away.

"Who's been writing on my banana?"

2011-02-05T13:56:00.005-06:00

That was the voice of my Boss calling out from his office.

Huh?

"It says 'I'm not ready yet'. Which one of you is writing on my banana?"

The very mousy and very unassuming office manager piped up, "It was me. I didn't want you to eat a green banana."

(Who even knew she had a sense of humor?)

A couple days later, I hear The Boss call out, "My banana says 'Maybe tomorrow. Check back with me'. Is this a banana or a Magic 8-Ball?"

But, yesterday a little Coca~Cola came out my nose when I heard him read aloud, "My banana says 'Eat me now'."

Sure it does, Boss, sure it does.

This image was stolen

2011-01-28T07:00:00.001-06:00

from Hey Lola's blog.

Unfiltered crap outta my head

2011-01-26T07:00:00.001-06:00

If I hear of advertising sponsors canceling their spots for an upcoming television show, it's pretty much an automatic I'll check it out. Like NYPD Blue, back in the day. Sure, it might be marketing ploy but it gets my attention. The new MTV show Skins is a knock-off of the racy British teen series and begs the question: are sexy teenage story lines bad but ~~slutty~~ pregnant teens on 16 And Pregnant good? Like I tell my breeder friends: if I'm not invited to watch the conception, I don't wanna watch the delivery.

Once considered myself to be a semi-bad teen, what with the underage drinking, random and planned vandalism and smart ass mouthery but the older I become, the more I realize, compared to today's yout's, I was a model fucking citizen. Nary a one pregnancy, nor abortions, no rehab, no tattoos, no jail time, no experimentation with drugs, no school time shoot'em-ups.

Teachers should be a little nervous and wary of vengeful gun toting students. While most teachers are decent, we all know at least one power tripping horrible teacher who needed a serious ass kicking or at least a good scare.

And if you're a teacher or an educator, quit bitching about your pay.
You weren't drafted into the job, it's no secret your colleagues aren't paid well so stop acting like you just became aware of how little you earn. Amongst the academia on college campus, the education department is the least respected. If that is a new realization, sorry. Please, go pay more to your powerful and competent teacher's union because it makes lots of sense to pay into a system which has done absolutely zero for you. In fact, why not increase your union dues and watch for even better results? To hear a teacher gripe about their salary is my cue to question their intelligence and awareness.

Awesome customer service at Talbot's recently. Seriously, I was treated so courteously by their super helpful employees, it gave me faith in the revitalization of American economic system.

Leaving it on a positive note for today,
I am,
Skitzo Leezra

In case you needed a reminder . . .

2011-01-23T00:32:00.002-06:00

St.Elmo's Fire still sucks.
Why, oh, why did I watch it again after 25 years?
Not one sympathetic character, shit acting and who the fuck would even consider getting engaged for Chrysler LeBaron? Even if it were a convertible?
Not even gonna enumerate the weak characters because it's a further waste of my time but hoping to save you the angst of . . . well . . .

~~You're welcome~~

Word of the day

2011-01-04T23:15:00.003-06:00

makes the 13 year old girl in my head giggle.

Crampon - I know it means metal spike attached to hiking footwear but my immaturity blends the words "cramps" and "tampon" then wonders why any man would wear them on their feet.

Rock on?
Hell to the no!
Crampon with your bad self.
Y'heard?

Forget world peace, I want a magic purse

2010-12-26T07:00:00.002-06:00

Not one Christmas season passes by without a "World Peace" card in the mail.
It's bullshit, I tell ya.
There's no way I'm wasting my one wish on world peace. No, while in the third grade I figured out my one granted wish from a genie would be a magic purse with never ending cash.
But world peace is not attainable.
It can't be.
All nations at peace means no war, no fighting and also no change. No change can mean an oppressed people. I mean, show me a couple married for 50 years and I'll bet one of them ate shit at some point or the other cannot live alone.

Whirled peas are over rated anyway.

Mallys strikes back

2010-12-23T07:00:00.001-06:00

Just a muffled sound was a clue that a mystery package had arrived at my front door. By the time I could put down the laptop, the UPS guy had scrammed.

THIS is what I found.

Mallys had struck back.

What was in said box?
Only the best thing ever!!!
A frickin' SHUT UP candle!!
Did you even know there was such a thing?

It's already burning in my foyer.
There to alert all visitors.

SHUT UP

Thank you, Mallys!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Funniest Christmas wish lists ever

2010-12-20T07:00:00.000-06:00

From HER ~

a bone (it's a card folding tool, Leezra knows what it is.)
a package of clothespins (I don't know where to get them)

from HIM ~
in no particular order

a bottle of Riesling wine, there is a really tall bottle at Walgreen's
maybe a jug of Southern Comfort
a squirrel trap
a new pair of Crocs, size 10, black or brown

Random thoughts

2010-12-18T14:40:00.002-06:00

Every time I read the word "biopic", I have to remind myself it means bio pic, as in biographical pic(ture). Shouldn't it be "bio-pic"? It's not even a real word, dammit to hell!

Christmas has snuck up on me and I still have no sense of urgency to finish my shopping. The last minute rush apparently is my habit.

Cell phones cannot withstand wash and rinse cycles in the washer. Trust me on this.

The hurricane story you haven't heard

2010-12-14T07:00:00.001-06:00

Unless you grew up in the left hand bottom corner of the boot-shaped Great State that is Louisiana. To be honest, the film "All Over but to Cry" is the most I've ever heard about Hurricane Audrey. Folks don't like to talk about it.

A church member told me her ladies group gathered clothing and shoes for the victims and a little boy selected shoes when he really wanted the brand new red cowboy boots. When asked why he passed on the boots, he said he needed shoes to go to church. Another old timer told me he never fished again after pulling dead bodies from the water.

Yeah, yeah, I know you've read hurricane stories here before but this is the harrowing tale of loss and survival during the 1957 Hurricane Audrey and you will cry your eyes out. Watch it to develop an attitude of gratitude and count your many blessings.

One by one.

It aired on Louisiana Public Television and I hope you'll get a chance to see it.

Overheard

2010-12-09T07:00:00.001-06:00

"Yeah, that lady was trying to make me lose my job! I even said 'Have a nice day' . . . and I'm not even on my meds."

More mayhem

2010-12-03T07:00:00.000-06:00

Overheard at the court house

2010-12-02T07:00:00.000-06:00

from a dude whooping and hollering as he exploded out of the second floor court room. He picked up the desk phone, dialed and loudly held a conversation the next day's jury pool could hear.
"Hey girl! Guess what? I'm not going to prison! Yeah, I got three years probation. What? YEAH, that's good! Probation is nuthin'. You would think it was good if you knew what I really did. You got any food at your house? No, huh, well, I'll call ya later."
Dials another number.
"Yeah, I called her and told her I got probation and did she have any food and she gave me a no but what she doesn't know is I really want to get with her sister. I bet her sister has some groceries. I'm calling her next."

Wake up and shine

2010-11-30T07:00:00.001-06:00

Here's a little funk to move your junk on this good Monday morning.

You're welcome.

Pope approves OR discourages condom use?

2010-11-27T07:00:00.003-06:00

Unfathomable to believe an old celibate man ~~Joey Ratz~~ living in Italy has any bearing on one's birth control or safe sex choices.
How many bastard factories and illegitimate children before abortion becomes fashionable again?

Just in time for swimsuit season.
It's the new black.

Any takers?

2010-11-25T07:00:00.000-06:00

Ya know, there's blood banks and sperm banks, why not a snot bank? I would be a millionaire. Rich, I tell ya!

Overheard at the holiday market

2010-11-22T07:00:00.001-06:00

"DAMMIT, I WANT THAT RUG! I tell ya what, next time, I marry a rich guy. If he's rich, I don't care if he's ugly. If he's super ugly, I'll just bark at him."

Allergy proof cat time

2010-11-12T19:12:00.000-06:00

Totally stole this video from new follower Stacey. Thanks lady!

Quote of the day

2010-11-10T23:21:00.005-06:00

It's not that I've taken a vow a chastity but more like chastity has taken a vow of me.
And chastity's ugly sister, Abstinence, keeps wanting to be my friend.

--SkitzoLeezra

Through the glass

2010-11-01T07:05:00.001-05:00

So, last week I was answering the phones while the receptionist was at lunch and and I was gazing at the other employees through the two glass windows.
The quiet guy walked in and to engage him, I asked "Hey Quiet Guy, if this were a zoo, would I be the animal or would it be the folks on the other side of the glass?"
Quiet Guy lived up to his name with his silence but finally said, "Guess it depends on who's picking up the shit."

Get out of the kitchen

2010-10-25T07:00:00.001-05:00

Every damn party and some idiot makes the comment that no matter how much room there is, everyone ends up in the kitchen.

And there I was Wednesday night, doing party assistance as a volunteer helper, wondering which old crone was gonna receive my kick to her hip to propel her out of my damn way so I could replenish the party tray.

"Oh hello dear, I seem to be in your way, don't I? You know, folks always seem to congregate in the kitchen. Hi there Samantha, how are you? How's your mother? I saw her last week . . . "

Yep, the old bitch didn't move. Just kept on blathering. I was so tempted to jam the party tray in her rapidly deteriorating osteoporosis ridden bones but instead I bit the inside of my mouth and counted to way the fuck over 10.
Another withering ancient further blocked me, AFTER glancing at my party tray.

FINALLY, I said "Ladies, I need to get by you to refill the platter."
Did they move?
Baaaaaarely.
I was halfway hoping my high heel might have nicked one of them while I silently rehearsed my best Gordon Ramsay* impression.

On the way back, the hired help was attempting to open the freezer door while 3 ladies refused to cede her the swing space.

"What are you looking for, Miss Help?" the most pleasant Wheel of Fortune fan asked.

"Ice," said the barely terse hired.

"Oh, look in the freezer."

That's when my now unhinged smart mouth reached its self editing limit and blurted "Oh, is that where it should be? Miss Help, do you see ice IN THE FREEZER? How wonderful! Yes, you can hand it to me since you don't have enough room to turn around."

WHAT
THE
HELL?!

Those of you who find yourselves in the kitchen at the next party, take a look and have some self awareness. Did anyone need to open a drawer you are leaning against? Did the party host decorate and clean her whole MonkeyFighting house for your inspection and enjoyment? Are you blocking the refrigerator?

Strike all that, I don't give a damn about the answers.
Get the fuck out of the kitchen.
You are in the way.
I don't care if you are more comfortable in the kitchen.
You are being rude.
And I dislike you immensely.

Have a blessed day, y'hear?

*

You're welcome

2010-10-23T00:34:00.002-05:00

Brought to you by the 12 year old boy who lives in my head.

It was your time, dude

2010-10-11T21:00:00.001-05:00

Enough of the John Lennon death anniversary angst already. He was insecure heroin snorter and marital cheater who enabled the awfulness that is Yoko's "career". I heard a recording of her once and it sounded like an orgy of violent feline fornication.
Sometimes the most merciful thing to happen to a celebrity is an early death. Marilyn, Elvis, James Dean, Cobain, Heath. I mean, c'mon, had they not passed, imagine their star fading with each sad and pathetic appearance on Hollywood Squares and American Idol. Elizabeth Taylor is a perfect example of hanging around too long. We can barely remember her as young and beautiful when we witness her putrefaction with our very own eyes.

Live fast.

Die young.

Leave a pretty corpse.

Ann's story of Funny Ass Shit

2010-09-22T07:00:00.002-05:00

My cousin Ann told the story of seeing the night time cleaning guy in the company break room. He was muttering about "the filthy 'son a bitches' leaving their crap all over the place" and "mother fucker" this and "asshole" that. Cuz was amused at the short uniformed man's rantings and luckily her turn at the vending machine allowed her to see his next action.

He opened the microwave oven door to see the interior splattered with what looked like the exploded contents of a can of ravioli. A fresh string of expletives spewed from his mouth as he grabbed the mop from his rolling mop bucket. Microwave oven still ajar, he jammed the wet and dripping mop head into the microwave and repeatedly slammed it around. Gray murky water splashed, puddled on the counter and ran down the cabinet.

The violent metallic echoes brought a co-worker from his cubicle. He and Ann stood in the doorway with mouths agape while cleaning dude continued his mop rape of the microwave.

(Ann and her office mate made a pact to only tell their bestest office buddies.)

Think about that while you heat your Hot Pocket in the company break room, you "son a bitch".

You can't say that

2010-09-20T07:00:00.000-05:00

One cannot proclaim themselves to be good in bed. It's the partner's opinion but not their own that is valid.
My sister's friend is an event organizer for a casino (or "casina" if you are Edwin Edwards) and says the instant a promoter utters the word "classy", it is both a cue and guarantee the event will be anything but.
So when I read this sentence on "Stuff Christian Culture Likes" blog, I had to steal it for your reading rumination.

"Unfortunately, if you need to announce that you're cool then you cease being cool. Like being classy or humble, proclaiming yourself as such means automatic disqualification."

What other self-proclaimed words are verboten?

New fave TV show

2010-09-19T11:24:00.003-05:00

Please to enjoy, an opening segment from fx's "Louie". Louis CK's comedian buddies are breaking balls around the poker table. It's "male" humor with a tiny touch of insight.

What would you do for free?

2010-09-10T23:24:00.005-05:00

During my usual 3 minute commute home, I heard a NPR segment of a career adviser suggesting recently laid off folks NOT pursue a job in their same field but, instead, ask themselves what they would do if they had to work for free? If you absolutely had to work for no pay, what would you choose to do? The adviser explained creative thinking might inspire a new career path.
In a second, I completed the exercise and had my answer. Sales in the decorative plumbing industry, with a fabulous employee discount while working 2-3 hours a day*. My last 11 working years have been somewhat easy but boring to the point of draining. Maybe I was due for a change.
With no plan or goal, the "what would you do for free" question stuck in my head.
Not even a month later, I was picking up a repair part at a local business and offered a job on the spot: doing the very thing I did in the past, which was, selling pretty shiny plumbing stuff!
Much angst, many sleepless nights with the oh-shit-did-I-really-quit-my-job panic attacks have occurred. The last 5 weeks have been muy stressful.
NOT knowing how the hell to access the hopelessly idiotic DOS quotation and inventory computer system, I told my new boss I wish I could spend 5 minutes with the guy that designed it.
"Do you really think you could learn it from him in only 5 minutes?"
"Fuck no!" I say, "I just want 5 minutes with the asshole because the guy who wrote this cumbersome and retarded piece of shit system is someone I KNOW I can take. I am confident I could beat the shit outta him."
The boss thinks I am funny. I'm glad he does but I wasn't joking. Please, mother fucker that is making my life miserable, please visit our location soon. I'll smile and be professional and when heads are turned, I'll do a 4" thick product catalog karate chop right into his pencil neck and then I'll perform a #6 on him, that's where I go a-ridin' into town, a whompin' and stompin' every livin' thing that moves within an inch of its life.
But I digress.
New job stress level is sometimes likened to a move or divorce and although I knew the transition would be tough, my time is not my own and I am still struggling to find my rhythm and mojo. The once welcome outlet of volunteer work is weighing heavily upon me and I am eager to be rid of some tasks. Earlier mornings and longer commutes are encroaching on my craft room time and ME time.
It has taken 5 weeks to feel a degree of contribution but fulfillment? Got plenty of that.
Helping folks select shiny stuff for their new house or remodel? That's like getting paid to spend other people's money. Which is what I would do for free.

*2 out 3 ain't bad.

Efficiency expert

2010-08-23T07:00:00.000-05:00

Chrysanthemum and I were chatting last night and still marveling over the fact men don't seem to understand how much action they could rake in by VOLUNTARILY doing the dishes, vacuuming or fixing shit.
I've been on my own for so long, if a dude changed a lightbulb for me, I'd probably pleasure him while he were still on the ladder.
Then she and I went down the grass-always-greener route when Chrysanthemum declared if a man afforded her the lifestyle of staying home all day, she would gladly bestow him with a blow job every single day upon his arrival home. I snorted and supposed aloud she would kick in her time management skills to cap fellatio time to less than 4 minutes to completion.
"Heck yeah! I would record a porno mix tape for him to listen to on the ride home so when he walked in the door, we would already have wood," she proudly exclaimed.

Quote of the day

2010-08-20T23:45:00.003-05:00

Give a man a fish and you feed him for one day.
Don't teach a man to fish and you feed yourself.
He's a grown man.
And fishing is not that hard.

--Ron Swanson
(played by Nick Offerman)
on NBC's "Parks and Recreation"

Just so you didn't think you knew everything

2010-08-19T07:00:00.000-05:00

Louis Armstrong recorded
"Blueberry Hill"
seven years
before Fats Domino.

Click HERE
to view and hear Satchmo.

Busting balls at Tipitina's

2010-08-18T07:00:00.000-05:00

Dawn's man Sam was all hepped up to see the Mother Truckers at Tip's the night before Mardi Gras (Lundi Gras). The band was good but the music was much too loud and the room entirely too smoky so Dawn and I left Sam inside and tripped outdoors to hang out on the picnic tables to talk and catch up.

An inebriated frat boy type stumbled onto our area and drunkenly slurred a question. I could tell it was a question by the way his voice went up at the end but in no way could I translate his garbled request. Drunk boy repeated himself.

Oooohhh, you want tickets to the show?
Yes.
The show has already begun so you can get in free now. Just go to that door and walk in, I say.
He is so excited. Free?
Yep.
Which door?
That one.
He walks off in that drunk spaghetti leg fashion that we've all done at some point of our drunken careers.
"You know that's the backstage door, right?" Dawn asked.
"Shit yeah, I know. I just wanted to see if he'd do it", I answer.

Dawn smokes her cigarette and I drink my beer as we watch Drunk Boy open the backstage door only to get pushed back and yelled at by the bouncer. The bouncer points toward the ticket window and entry door and shuts the door.

Drunk Boy apparently doesn't have enough energy to walk toward the ticket window and returns to us.

"They wouldn't let me in. I think I had the wrong door," he slurs.
"Hell no, son! They don't know who you are. Go to that door. Act like you own the joint and walk in. If you act as if you know where you're going, they'll let you through," I instruct him.
"Sssssshure, I can't wait to sssshhhee THE MOTHER TRUCKERS!!! I LOVE THEM, MAN!"
"I don't know . . . ." heard from Dawn.
He's off.

This time, he rips the door open so hard, it bounces off the outside wall, hits him in the back and sends him flying smack dab into the already aggravated bouncer. Dawn and I are laughing so hard we're crying but we feel the need to muffle ourselves so we're not thought to be in cohoots with the rabblerouser.
The bouncer is pissed. The door opens and a blast of sound comes with it. We can't hear the bouncer's words but we see his index finger hitting Drunk Boy's chest many times as instructions are repeated to go to the ticket window.
Drunk Boy actually gets to the ticket window and pulls out his pockets to find not enough funds. He is dejected and of course, comes back to our picnic table.
"I lost some money. I had lots of cash earlier but I don't have it now. Damn! I really want to see the show."

In a moment of tenderness, Dawn asks where he is from.
Ohio/Iowa/Utah.
(I forget, one of those four letter states beginning with a vowel.)
Where are your friends?
I don't know.
Where are you staying?
At some guy's house.
Do you know where?
No.
You don't know the address?
No.
How will you get back there tonight?
I'll find it. I was real messed up last night and found it so tonight's no problem.

He walks off toward the entry door and is gone awhile. They must have let him in, how about that, I think only to see him coming back with a beer in his hand.

Drunk Boy tells us he ordered a beer at the bar but when they noticed his lack of a wristband, he's thrown out.

"I'm gonna go see that band", he avows as he stands up and looks toward the backstage door.
"I wouldn't . . ." Dawn attempts to warn.
He gives her the shut-up-arm wave and ambles toward the door and opens it.
The light and sound streaks out on the sidewalk and the bouncer is on him. The bouncer grips Drunk Boy's shirt but Drunk Boy is headed inside like a cow returning to the barn. With a couple heaves, the bouncer gets Drunk Boy outside and shouts toward the entry door for assistance. No one hears him over the din of the Mother Trucker's 18 minute guitar ride and Drunk Boy detaches himself from the bouncer hug. I'm laughing so hard, beer comes out my nose.

Guess where he heads?
You got it.
Towards us.
The bouncer now has the attention of the uniformed but off-patrol NOPD officer sitting at the front door.
"Get the hell out of here NOW!" we both tell Drunk Boy, "They're gonna take you in."
"They can't arressss' me. I didn't get to see the Mother Truckerssssss!"
The bouncer sees Drunk Boy and points the cop toward us. Here comes the fuzz.
"Go!" we hiss with clenched teeth.
All the sudden, Drunk Boy catches a snap and bolts down Napoleon Avenue like a sprint runner. A cab passes him, brakes and we hear a car door open and slam. Drunk Boy escaped!
New Orleans Finest approaches and asks, "He's gone?"
We shrug. Seems so.

Drunk Boy, wherever you are, we hope you made it back to whatever vowel letter state you're from. We hope you had a good time in New Orleans and a fun Mardi Gras. We wondered if you were the tourist that woke up in an ice-filled bathtub, without a kidney. We want you to know your antics still make us laugh when Dawn and I get together. That was some Funny Ass Shit.

Fats Domino and memories of New Orleans

2010-08-17T07:00:00.003-05:00

Just watched Fats Domino: Walkin' Back to New Orleans documentary (2007) on PBS and loved seeing his history and post-Katrina performance at Tipitina's. Guess who was in the documentary? My buddy Allen Toussaint! The documentary induced a few New Orleans memories.
Back when I was working in chilly Gentilly, in the early 1990's, a co-worker mentioned passing by Fats Domino's neighborhood at lunchtime. He told me where to find it and I planned to surprise my mom and aunt with a scenic tour during their upcoming weekend visit.

We left for the day's activities and I drove Mom's car. Getting deeper and deeper in the Ninth Ward, I finally had to reveal where we were headed. Aunt Jan was excited and pulled out her brand new fancy schmancy camera. --photo, post-Katrina

Of course, three white ladies in a shiny brand new Lexus attracted a bit of attention in the 'hood so when Aunt Jan requested another drive down the street for a better photo, I was a bit nervous.
When I turned the car around, the milling characters in the street took notice. Aunt Jan rolled down her window and pointed the camera towards Fats Domino's childhood home when a voice asked, "You ladies need some help with that camera?" Yikes! Fats Domino's music is in the soundtrack of my childhood but photo or not, we scrammed.

-check back tomorrow for page 2 of music and NOLA-

The darker side

2010-08-15T20:03:00.004-05:00

Have you seen the new Allstate "Mayhem" commercials?

Dark and sarcastic, me likey!
And I knew I recognized the Mayhem actor as Tommy Gaven's (dead cop) brother from Rescue Me (Dean Winters)!
Here's another for your viewing pleasure.

Look at that face

2010-08-09T19:00:00.002-05:00

My mom says men with thin lips are cruel.
"He's got wife beating lips," she'll opine.
Mind you, my dad doesn't have thin lips but I admit Mom's words have biased my thinking. I kinda believe it.
Physiognomy (nature + interpretation) is the ancient science of face reading still practiced by the Chinese and phrenology (mind + knowledge) was a hot trend in the early 1900's and thought to determine personality based on skull shape. A current decor trend is use of antique phrenology busts or their less expensive reproductions.

Amazon
$ 32

On "America's Most Wanted" television show or local news broadcasts, a mug shot would flash across the screen.
"He did it," my mom would say.
"How do you know for sure?" I once asked.
"Look at that face. If he didn't commit the particular crime they're reporting, he definitely did something wrong in his lifetime. You can tell by looking at him that he's guilty of something."
All the above information stored in my somewhat lumpy and bumpy noggin came to me today when I spied this news article.

PAYSON, Ariz. -- A 94-year-old Payson man was arrested last Thursday after being charged with public sexual indecency, aggravated assault and the molestation of several children. The investigation began three weeks ago after a public indecency report was filed. Police said Dale Warren Graham was found in someone else’s garage with a running vacuum cleaner attached to the front of his pants.

Now look at his photograph.

Based on the mug shot alone, he may not be guilty of cranking himself with vacuum cleaner but I'll bet my now hardening ovaries he's guilty of something. The thin lips alone indicate the suffering of Hoovers and perhaps a Kirby or two.

Recent crushes

2010-08-06T07:00:00.001-05:00

Doesn't look like I have a "type", huh?
I do.
They all make me laugh.

Freak Meter ---> 9

2010-08-05T07:00:00.000-05:00

So I'm walking out of the library at the same time as another card carrying citizen.
He says hi.
I say hi.
And he says, and I shit you not, "Well, things aren't too good. They better get it together up there in New York, y'know. If they let those people build a mosque at Ground Zero. Well, that's not right. It's not right. They do it all the time. No, it's happened before. When Spain won a war, they built a mosque there too. And other places. But if they let it happen, well, it's just gonna go down real quick in this country . . . ." On and on.
I nod but don't acknowledge his apparent craziness. Unlock the door, start the ignition and when he finally took a breath, I let out an "Uh huh" and throw it in reverse.
Then I was mad at myself for playing the "nice girl" and tolerating his bullshit by showing him more consideration than he was showing me.
What I wanted to say was, "Really, dude? I've never met you before and the very second I say hi, you go off on a political tangent that I may or may not care about? How's about shut the fuck up? How about that, dude?"

A New Orleans memory

2010-08-04T07:00:00.001-05:00

While living in Mid City area, my place to gas up was the filling station on Esplanade Avenue, right on Bayou St. John.
One day, a brown Rolls Royce pulled to the opposite pump. A dapper man got out and proceeded to fill his tank. And of course, my big mouth had to say something.
"That's a good way to stay humble . . . pump your own gas."
The matching brown colored man smiled and laughed.
"That's about right," he said.
As I drove away, I read his vanity license plate. PIANO

photo by NoVARon

Holy crap, I just smart-assed Allen Toussaint, famed musician, songwriter and a favorite New Orleans son!

In the months and years ahead, we often found ourselves at the same gas pumps and trading hellos. He'd ask if I lived in the neighborhood and I would point across the bayou to Moss Street. I would ask if he enjoyed the recent Jazz Fest.
After I moved from New Orleans to live in Houston for a year and a half, I returned to my favorite Mid City neighborhood and found myself at the Esplanade Shell once again. And who pulls up to the pump but Mr. Toussaint! I was happy to see my famous gas station acquaintance.
"Haven't seen you in awhile. Where've you been?" he asked.

Gotta love that.

Be sure to catch Austin City Limits featuring Allen Toussaint, full episode HERE. Watch his post-Rita thoughts at the end of the show.

How to shock my neighbor

2010-08-02T07:00:00.000-05:00

Before the even more retarded dog moved in next door, the other neighbor's little yappy dog irritated me with his incessant barking. After a few weeks of the new puppy's unnecessary noise, I told the neighbor dude, "Y'know, I grew up with dogs and adore them but for the first time in my life, I finally understand those stories about an unhappy neighbor poisoning the barking dog."
He stood there for a minute, trying to figure out if I was pulling his leg, bent over to pick up his incredibly stoopid Dachsund and said, "Wow, that's cold, Leezra."
"I didn't say I would poison a dog, Tommy, I'm just saying I understand it. And besides, poisoning would be more efficient than locating and cutting out a dog's voice box. I have a weak stomach, y'know."
His dog hasn't been in my yard for weeks now.

Duh! of the day - Louisiana is nation's laziest state

2010-07-27T07:00:00.002-05:00

from Business Week ,
No. 1 Laziest State: Louisiana
Time sleeping: 8 hours, 44 minutes
Time watching TV: 3 hours, 5 minutes
Time relaxing and thinking: 29 minutes
Time socializing: 54 minutes
Time working (ages 15 and older): 2 hours, 41 minutes
Median age: 35.1
Obesity ranking: No. 5 (31.2 percent)
We aren't trying to beat up on Louisiana. Goodness knows, between Hurricane Katrina and the Gulf Oil Spill, the state has been through some tough times in recent years. But the statistics speak for themselves: Residents of the state (which happens to be the country's third-poorest) watch more television per day than any other Americans except South Carolinians. They also rank third for being the most social, which includes entertaining and talking with friends, family, and other acquaintances. The average time spent working among all Louisianans is shorter than all other states, according to the U.S. Bureau of Labor Statistics.
(Data compiled before the Gulf Oil Spill so does not reflect recent spill-related layoffs.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hells yeah, we're lazy!
First, it's hot as a crotch in July and twice as muggy.
For dudes, that means bat wings.
For chicks, it's crotch pot cookin'.
Plus, we're tired.
Tired from picking up roof shingles from the damned hurricanes.
Tired of waiting for the insurance adjuster.
Entitlement-sapped from picking up our FEMA checks.
Spent from picking up our BP checks.
Achy from picking up sacks of crawfish.
Bloated from eating MREs.
Pooped out from evacuating from storms and such.
Done from collecting ice from the nice military boys.
Fatigued from unloading and reloading the refrigerator.
Sweaty from digging our meat holes.
Bored over hating on dolls.
Exhausted from partying.
Dog ass weary from parading.
It takes a lot of energy to rant, bitch, hate and judge. Think your day is long? Try living with multiple personalities in your head and all of them pushing their own agenda.
But hey, we're also thinking and socializing and planning the next crawfish boil and parade so give us credit for pacing ourselves.
Business Weekly should give Louisiana a major fucking break. I'd kick their ass but that would mean getting off the sofa . . . and the ice in my adult beverage is melting . . .
so I'll catch ya on the flipside, Biz Weak.

Funny Ass Shit: Pervert on the phone

2010-07-26T07:00:00.003-05:00

Y'know, every once in a while, my smart mouth serves me well, like the time an unidentified male caller asked for "Laqueesha" to which I informed "there is no one here by that name". He then asked my name and said I "sounded cute".

"You want to know my name?"

Yes.

So, I said, in a low tone at a volume just above a whisper, "I'm your worst nightmare."

A long pause followed by a "sorry, wrong number" was the response, along with a dial tone.

Freakin' out the phone perv? One of my proudest moments.

My grandmother asked

2010-07-25T01:16:00.003-05:00

When telling her my man woes, she dropped this gem,
"Why the fuck are you crying? You're the one with the pussy!"

A Dad-ism

2010-07-22T07:00:00.001-05:00

"Damn, if you asked her what time it was, she would tell you how to build a clock."

-- his analogy of the secretary's long winded answers

Why is that?

2010-07-21T07:00:00.001-05:00

My friend Elizabeth asked the timeless question today:
The troll that is known as Rachel Zoe is on QVC hawking her wares. I would love to know why they are called caftans when you are skinny and muumuus when you are fat?

A day in the life, in Louisiana

2010-07-20T07:00:00.003-05:00

image:knifecenter.com

I shouldn't have been surprised to see a local merchant proudly display the above product. It's called a "Game Processor" or a portable butchering kit.

All I could say was, "Dude."

The counter guy noticed and said, "Yeah, it's even got a rib spreader."

"I'm sure it's very handy to have but it's kinda, um, well, gory", I reply.

He shakes his head in assent, "Oh yeah, definitely. It's basically a serial killer trunk set."

What he said

2010-07-19T11:14:00.004-05:00

Saturday morning, seven-year old nephew Gregory and I were in line to go down the waterslide.

"Hey Gregory, be sure to scream this time," I instructed.

"I did."

"No, Gregory, that was me. You didn't scream at all."

"You couldn't hear me because I scream in my head."

I laughed, "You do?"

"Yeah. I'm doing right now."

Worse thing I ever said?

2010-07-17T07:00:00.002-05:00

While listening to the Mel Gibson rant filled recordings, I wondered if any of my words would haunt me . . .
Thinking the worst thing I ever said was to the alcoholic ass boyfriend. During a particularly frustrating weekend of arguments, I told him I didn't understand how he could sleep with both eyes shut.

"What does that mean?" he slurred.

"I just don't understand how you shut both your eyes and sleep, knowing how much I hate you right now. And knowing there's an loaded gun in the house. Knowing those two things proves you're not as smart as you think you are."

I should probably feel ashamed but I don't. Besides, he probably didn't remember hearing it.

As my pastor once asked, what good is suffering? What can come from it?
For me, it is empathy.
I understand why folks can scream hateful words or fantasize about shooting their spouse in the face.

My grandmother said

2010-07-16T07:00:00.000-05:00

The best way
to get over a man
is to get
underneath
another one.

Mel Gibson's latest quote (of the day)

2010-07-15T07:00:00.000-05:00

"You will fucking smile
and
BLOOOOOOOOOOWWWWWWWWWW
me!"

Party ingredients

2010-07-13T07:00:00.001-05:00

Because that's how Rikki Tikki Tavi rolls.

From my sainted grandmother

2010-07-10T07:00:00.001-05:00

If you spay,
you won't
fear the spray.

Duh of the Day - get spayed!

2010-07-09T07:00:00.002-05:00

No shit, that crazy ass octomom hyena laugher Nadya Suleman willingly posed with PETA's new campaign ad

Don't let your dog or cat
become an "octomom

in exchange for $5000 and a month's supply of veggie hotdogs.

Suleman, 34, acknowledged she put the sign on her door partly for the money but added her support of PETA is sincere.

"I love animals and I do believe they should be spayed or neutered," she said. "Humans of course are much different."

Duh, wacked out breeder! Humans are much different. Trust me on this, it's so much more difficult to jam humans into my a back seat and force them into sterilization but just like a cute but stupid dog or cat, some two-leggeds shouldn't make their own breeding decisions. Talk to any reputable dog breeder and they'll liken Nadya to a puppy mill. I'm just sayin', if my neighbor allowed their hormonally deranged mama dog sporting pavement dragging teats to produce 14 litters of puppies within 8 years, they should probably expect a visit from the parish* animal shelter or zoning commission.

*county to the rest of "you people"

Tumor comparisons

2010-07-07T07:00:00.001-05:00

Should you describe the size of a tumor or any other gross medical mass, PLEASE, for the love of ME, would you NOT compare it to a fruit but instead use sports balls?

The conjured visual of tumors and food is unsettling.

And while we're at it, can we NOT say someone was "fingered for the crime"? It seems to provoke a clenching sensation.

Al Gore's inconvenient erection

2010-07-05T07:00:00.000-05:00

~OR~ Douche of the Day

My birthday gift arrived right on time with news of Al Gore's unwanted sexual advances upon a hired masseuse.

I want to believe it.
I hope her saved pants from their encounter really do have traces of his "DNA".
I'd like to start a new catch phrase ~~
"I got your global warming right here!"
(Must be paired with the requisite crotch grab.)

Please do your part by performing this phrase (with the grab) at least 3 times a day for the next week and let's see if it catches on.

Thanking you in advance,
I am,
Skitzo Leezra

You can help with the oil spill clean up effort

2010-07-04T12:21:00.002-05:00

Yes, I know BP is responsible for the damage but many volunteer groups are participating and you can help.
Craft Hope is distributing cloths to several institutions, including the Institute for Marine Mammal Studies in Gulfport, Mississippi but now need financial help to store, distribute and ship the cloths.
~~OR~~ send directly to the IMMS at 10801 Dolphin Lane, Gulfport, MS 39503. Package up your cloths and label package with cloth specifications and quantity to aid quick dispersal. Want to do more? Throw in a bottle of Dawn dishwashing liquid. (Why Dawn?)
The IMMS website wish list indicates towels (any size) but Craft Hope specifications indicated wash cloth and hand towel size to be helpful. Larger towels are unwieldy for cleaning and handling animals. Get out your scissors and cut 10" X 10" squares or 14" X 27" rectangles. Think absorbent and think throwaway. If it is soft enough to wipe your skin, it's good. Cut up your towels, sheets, wash cloths, whatever. Loose threads could snag on animals so if you can sew, zigzag or serge those raw edges.
T-shirts are perfect because they don't fray nor require edge finishing. Don't include the printed portions of the T-shirts as they aren't absorbent. Cut off the short sleeves and leave as is; a gloved hand fits perfectly into it.
Here is link to more details about cloth specifications.
Get your friends and family involved, combine your contributions, send a big box of cloths and know that you are part of the solution. Plus, you probably de-cluttered your t-shirt stash and linen closet!
Many thanks!!!

Pigs on the loose

2010-07-04T07:00:00.001-05:00

By now, you've heard Mel Gibson's racist rant toward his whore/baby mama: "You look like a fucking pig in heat, and if you get raped by a pack of n***ers, it will be your fault."

But what you don't know is the numerous reports of police officers stopping and questioning roving groups of suspicious dudes and the alarming trend the law enforcement now know. The cops asked where the group members were going and where they've been. More often than not, the dudes would say they've been seeking pigs in heat.

Be careful out there, y'hear?

Funniest rant ever

2010-07-03T16:18:00.004-05:00

Mel Gibson tells his whore/baby mama, "I am going to come and burn the fucking house down... but you will blow me first."

What would be my retort?
"Dude, you'll need to rearrange your list with the first priority of making damn sure you pull out all my teeth!"

Warp speed ahead

2010-06-15T12:51:00.003-05:00

Only in the past few years did I learn that anger comes from hurt and for someone with lots of untapped anger, I realize that I rarely acknowledge hurt feelings before it travels at warp speed to anger. These days , I try to slow down the process to better learn which buttons are pushed and how to resolve my feelings.

Someone once explained that the Cancer horoscope sign is a crab because we are easily hurt, thus, we form a tough shell to protect ourselves. Duh. That is so me.

But I gotta tell ya, anger feels better than hurt.

To me, hurt is like a helpless victim where anger is a kick-ass bitch.

Oil spill in your neighborhood?

2010-06-07T07:00:00.001-05:00

It sucks to feel powerless while in the path of hurricane but preparation, packing and worry act as distractions. The BP oil spill is a new combination of worry and lack of control. Vacations along the Gulf coast are canceled, seafood is becoming scarce and no one really knows what the economic fallout will be.
What would the BP oil spill do to your neck of the woods? Click on THIS LINK to see the impact to your neighborhood, county and state.

Louisiana, defined

2010-06-03T07:00:00.001-05:00

Yesterday, my radio boyfriend Jay Thomas described the current events about the British Petroleum oil leak, the multitudes of lawyers soliciting along the Gulf Coast and payout deals being made here in Louisiana to fishermen and other related tradespeople by BP for lost but anticipated income. The problem is, more than a few of those folks were under reporting their income to IRS but over-estimating missed income to BP and will now be hit with higher income taxes on the compensation and perhaps an unwelcome audit.
To sum it up, Jay said, "Louisiana, it's just like Appalachia . . . but with crawfish."

Louisiana artwork by Stan Routh

Can you ear me now?

2010-06-02T07:00:00.000-05:00

Yesterday, I was talking to my 6 year old nephew Gregory as he began to walk away.
"Hey, I'm still talking to you."
"I'm just walking, Leezra, I can hear you. I still have my ears on," he replied.

Huh?

2010-06-01T10:57:00.004-05:00

Anyone else wonder

exactly where her right hand is placed?

Does his facial expression reveal a clue?

Just askin'.

(image: yahoo updates)

This is America

2010-05-30T13:52:00.005-05:00

My life partner TiVo found a PBS documentary about the New Orleans Vietnamese community and their struggle before, during and after hurricane Katrina called "Independent Lens:A Village Called Versailles".
Culturally, their work ethic and self-sufficiency served them well in rebuilding after the hurricane but their quiet flying-beneath-the-radar way of life made them targets of a proposed land grab and an "emergency" landfill. Watch the documentary to see the best and worst of what America has to offer and a unique perspective of immigrant culture.
Here's a short youtube clip.

Outta the mouth of Mom

2010-05-26T07:00:00.002-05:00

My mom, dad and brother attended my nephew's junior high band's spring performance last night. As we made our way to the exit, I saw my mom taking in the crowd. She turned to me and uttered an absolute gem, "These people people need to take vitamins."

For a split second, I was confused but an instant later, I got it.

"They look like they all have rickets, right?" I asked.

"Exactly."

Giving back

2010-05-24T07:00:00.002-05:00

Kittie Howard, over at The Block, awarded a few blog awards last March and offered an opportunity to vie for a gift card. It was the same week I learned of many local struggling non-profits in my area so instead of competing to win an unexpected gift for reading her great blog which is a gift in itself, I dropped out of the game by suggesting a contribution to a non-profit. Before you think me to be completely selfless and wonderful, you should know that Kittie gave a Salvation Army donation last December; $1 for each of her followers so it just natural that I would think of a gift to serve many instead of one.
And wouldn't you know it, the idea caught on. Kittie opened the forum to voting and her readers went for it. Not one reader whined for a gift card for themselves.
Fast forward to last week when Kittie's blog reached 100 followers which became a perfect time to announce her contribution to a Louisiana animal shelter and she included me in the explanation.
What a nice example Kittie is! The word my mom would use is "a jewel". It fits Kittie.
So, here's my challenge to you. While you might not have $106 to spare, non-profits of every ilk are suffering in our new economy and even the smallest contribution can help. My local food bank or homeless shelter can always use jars of peanut butter, cans of tuna and even tubes of toothpaste. Throw an extra item in your grocery cart when you can and drop it by your local mission or food bank.

Here is a list of items that any animal shelter would gladly accept:
Clorox Bleach
Fabric Softener
Rubbing Alcohol
Distilled Water
Kitchen Garbage Bags
55 Gallon Garbage Bags
33 Gallon Garbage Bags
Cat Litter
Purina Cat Chow
Purina Puppy Chow
PineSol
Lysol Spray
Toilet Bowl Cleaner
Bathroom Cleaner
Paper Towels
Toilet Paper
Windex Glass Cleaner
Dishwashing Liquid
Hand Sanitizer
Rice
Crew Socks
Kitchen Sponges
Scrub Brushes
Plastic Spray Bottles
SoftSoap
Mop Heads
Brooms
Light Bulbs

I provide the list to illustrate that every little bit helps.
Some folks volunteer.
Some folks write big checks.
Some folks share their blessings.
All can make a difference.

Just a little ~~but somewhat sporadic~~ ricocheted sunbeam for God,
I am,
Skitzo Leezra

Say it right

2010-05-22T22:39:00.002-05:00

Here's a word that I hear mispronounced so often I looked it up to make sure I wasn't the dumb ass.
How do you say "realtor"?

Does it sound like reel-ugh-ter?
Or real-ter?
Or re-uhl-ter?
None of the above

The correct answer is "3" but mostly I hear "1".

When I first moved to Houston, I gave my boss an address on Bissonnet Avenue but being from Louisiana, I articulated it with a French pronunciation: Bis-so-nay. She corrected me and imperiously stated "here in Texas, we pronounce all the letters in words". Huh, how about that? She was taking me task for sounding like a rube while she and the rest of Houston mangled FRENCH with their "Bis-son-net"(yep, with a "t" at the end). Thanks for correcting me, putain.

So, just for kicks, I just Googled "commonly mispronounced words" for you good people and found a list of 100 at pbs.com
Well, butter my butt and call me a biscuit, I've been saying "Bacchus" incorrectly all this time plus "pathos". Feeling superior to me yet? Check out the list and I'll bet you'll be surprised at a few. Having a hard time saying "Bak-us" instead of "Bahk-us", which incidentally, is the name of huge New Orleans Carnival krewe and their parade. New Orleans folks saying it wrong all these years? For true?

(Click on the links for an audible pronunciations. Look for the speaker icon.)~~You're welcome~~

A Biblical contrast

2010-05-17T10:46:00.004-05:00

A friend forwarded this e-mail today and I am sharing it with "you people". It wasn't written by the person attributed but is still thought provoking. Haven't listened to Dr Laura's radio show in years but have personally heard her denounce homosexuality. -S.L.

On her radio show, Dr Laura Schlessinger said that, as an observant Orthodox Jew, homosexuality is an abomination according to Leviticus 18:22 and cannot be condoned under any circumstance. The following response is an open letter to Dr. Laura posted on the Internet. It's funny, as well as informative.

Dear Dr. Laura:
Thank you for doing so much to educate people regarding God's Law. I have learned a great deal from your show, and try to share that knowledge with as many people as I can. When someone tries to defend the homosexual lifestyle, for example, I simply remind them that Leviticus 18:22 clearly states it to be an abomination ... End of debate.
I do need some advice from you, however, regarding some other elements of God's Laws and how to follow them.
1. Leviticus 25:44 states that I may possess slaves, both male and female, provided they are purchased from neighboring nations. A friend of mine claims that this applies to Mexicans, but not Canadians. Can you clarify? Why can't I own Canadians?
2. I would like to sell my daughter into slavery, as sanctioned in Exodus 21:7. In this day and age, what do you think would be a fair price for her?
3. I know that I am allowed no contact with a woman while she is in her period of Menstrual uncleanliness - Lev.15: 19-24. The problem is how do I tell? I have tried asking, but most women take offense.
4. When I burn a bull on the altar as a sacrifice, I know it creates a pleasing odor for the Lord - Lev.1:9. The problem is my neighbors. They claim the odor is not pleasing to them. Should I smite them?
5. I have a neighbor who insists on working on the Sabbath. Exodus 35:2 clearly states he should be put to death. Am I morally obligated to kill him myself, or should I ask the police to do it?
6. A friend of mine feels that even though eating shellfish is an abomination, Lev. 11:10, it is a lesser abomination than homosexuality. I don't agree. Can you settle this? Are there 'degrees' of abomination?
7. Lev. 21:20 states that I may not approach the altar of God if I have a defect in my sight. I have to admit that I wear reading glasses. Does my vision have to be 20/20, or is there some wiggle-room here?
8. Most of my male friends get their hair trimmed, including the hair around their temples, even though this is expressly forbidden by Lev. 19:27. How should they die?
9. I know from Lev. 11:6-8 that touching the skin of a dead pig makes me unclean, but may I still play football if I wear gloves?
10. My uncle has a farm. He violates Lev.19:19 by planting two different crops in the same field, as does his wife by wearing garments made of two different kinds of thread (cotton/polyester blend). He also tends to curse and blaspheme a lot. Is it really necessary that we go to all the trouble of getting the whole town together to stone them? Lev.24:10-16. Couldn't we just burn them to death at a private family affair, like we do with people who sleep with their in-laws? (Lev. 20:14)
I know you have studied these things extensively and thus enjoy considerable expertise in such matters, so I'm confident you can help. Thank you again for reminding us that God's word is eternal and unchanging. Your adoring fan.

PS It would be a damn shame if we couldn't own a Canadian.

Quote of the day

2010-05-11T07:00:00.000-05:00

"Is that a watermelon I see? Oh, no, it's a bird."

--Protecting the innocent
but I swear I heard it
and even asked for clarification
when I wrote it down.

You get what you . . nah

2010-05-10T07:00:00.000-05:00

For a crowd of 40, I asked 8 women to bring a dessert and even stressed that homemade contains love whereas store bought does not.
What did we have on the dessert table?

One plastic container of packaged cookies with fake M&M candies, cute but not tasty. Think cardboard. Perhaps 1 cookie gone.
One store manufactured red velvet cake - one slice removed.
Another mass market cake - untouched.
Sara Lee pound cake sliced horizontally with canned icing in between layers and elsewhere. Two or three slices partaken.
Fresh fruit tray - well appreciated.
A giant vat of banana pudding - perhaps from a caterer. Pretty yummy.
2 homemade key lime pies with fresh strawberries on top - one pie gone.
Warm-from-the-oven sopapilla cheesecake with aromatic cinnamon topping - devoured and decimated.

So, here's the question:
If someone brings crappy tasteless store bought crap, should they partake of the yummy homemade stuff?
Because, on one hand, you get what you give.
But on the other, maybe if you taste the good stuff, maybe you'll be ashamed to bring that tasteless junk next time.

Yes, the sopapilla cheesecake was made by moi.

Clones?

2010-05-08T07:00:00.000-05:00

I've got a knack for remembering faces but aren't these three the same guy?

Josh Stewart ~ Dirt on Fx (now defunct)

Aaron Paul ~ Breaking Bad on AMC

Chris Hardwick from Web Soup on E!

Stoopid Song

2010-05-07T07:00:00.001-05:00

Ugh! I heard a long-hated song yesterday and it stuck in my brain and you know the only cure* is to pass it along to you.

The Pretenders: (Brass in Pocket) I'm Special

Gonna use my arms,

Gonna use my legs,

Gonna use my style,

Gonna use my side-step

Gonna use my fingers

Gonna use my, my, my, imagination.

Cause I going make you see-- there's nobody else here

No one like me.

I'm special, so special.

I got to have some of your attention, give it to me!

I got rhythm, I can't miss a beat.

I gotta new skank so reet (WHAT THE HELL is "new skank so reet"?)

Got something. I'm winking at you (Hate to ask exactly what she is winking)

Gonna make you, make you notice.

Wait, there's an alternate cure to offer you. See if it works you as well as it has for me.

Sing it loud and proud in your most retarded and hearing impaired voice.

"I'm special, so special, I gotta have some your attention, give it to me!"

Yesterday, I had $ 2.25 in loose change slung in my general direction.

WooHoo! Shiny coins for the coke machine!!

*Get your own damn blog if you don't like my solution.

Things that chap my ass: Oil spills

2010-05-06T11:20:00.005-05:00

That oil spill off the coast of Louisiana is working my last nerve. I can understand why the folks in Florida and California don't want off shore oil rigs located near their picturesque coasts but we already have them so might as well generate some state revenue, right? That dang explosion is gonna drive up gas prices, ruin the delicate ecological balance of several, if not many, state's coasts and stifle future drilling. It's no good, I tell ya!
Read a news note yesterday that hair is a good oil picker upper for spills. Know what else might work? Silk flowers! Those nasty fake and dust catching stems, gross! Please send those to the clean up workers.

Hmmmm, what else? Junk mail, maybe?

That tired and outdated carpet in my master bedroom; I bet it could soak up an assload of oil. Gonna rip that up, throw it in my truck, drive to the beach and toss it on the sand. There, I helped.

~~You're welcome.

A concert memory

2010-04-30T07:00:00.001-05:00

Just read Louisiana Belle's Music Quiz blog entry and quite impressed by her roster of a dream musical festival and it jogged a memory for me.

Back in the day (1987), my then boyfriend wanted to see the upcoming David Bowie "Glass Spider Tour" concert stop in New Orleans so I purchased tickets for his birthday and we attended the Superdome performance.

I'm all about a pure music performance without all the distracting trappings of dancers and such so was a little disappointed that wasn't "just David Bowie" but oh well, my dude liked it.

At the end of the concert, the house lights were still off and the entire Dome was dimly lit by upraised cigarette lighters, indicating a desire for an encore. It was quite beautiful from the vantage point of our floor seats. My boyfriend was dazzled. A bit too much.

My jaded ass finally asked, "Have you not ever seen that before?"

"No, never."

"What?! They do it after every concert."

"Really?"

"Yes."

"I've never seen it before."

"Puh-lease! Wait, when is the last time you attended a concert?"

He scrunched his eyebrows together and looked at me with those blue eyes he was so proud of and finally said, "Jimi Hendrix".

Da-yumn!

(I was six years old when the fabulouso Jimi died.)

Check me out, I'm worldwide!

2010-04-29T07:00:00.001-05:00

Rant sister and blogger Jennifer offered her readers a forum to post their own "Things I Want to Punch in the Face" lists and I posited the notion that her generosity allowed others to vent, thus fewer sniper shooting incidents in past weeks.

AND Jennifer posted MY LIST! Check it out HERE.

Spring in Louisiana

2010-04-28T07:00:00.000-05:00

Here, in left-handed side of the boot-shaped Great State of Louisiana, it's green again.

Ah so, Grasshopper

2010-04-27T13:17:00.004-05:00

Just because I've been quiet doesn't mean I am not hanging around.

Wrapping up 3 different committees and helping friends "in need" has taken me from my "public" and blog responsibilities.

Getting my mojo back,

I am,

Skitzo Leezra