Everything I Like Causes Cancer

A friend posted this on Facebook and it made me laugh so hard I had to share.

1 Feraro's pizza with ham, mushrooms, and black olives

Has it really been three days since I posted last?  That might be an EILCC record.  I feel a bit out of practice as I sit here so I'm just hoping you stop to say hi.  I miss you.  How was your Christmas?  Tell me what you got.

I am so late sending a hale and hearty THANK YOU! to Suze for the Christmas package she sent me.  It arrived weeks ago but I've been waiting for the perfect opportunity to show off my awesome gifties.

First, coasters.  Very special holiday coasters that make me laugh every time I see them.  I am a huge fan of Subversive Cross Stitch, so much so that I considered stitching one or two for a couple of you, but that seemed like a lot of work so I didn't.

BTW, I am also very late in publicly thanking Sass and MelO for the bottle of red they gave me for hosting the Hot Blogger Holiday Hook-Up.  A lovely 2007 bottle of Bitch.  It's so perfect I don't want to open it.  Thanks, ladies!

Suze's Magic Bag of Xmas, also emblazoned with "Happy F%#king Holidays!" in a bright red and green repeating pattern, contained this:

sometimes when I'm alone I google myself

I wore it out last Friday night and it was so popular that my friend Sean dragged me into the ladies' room and made me switch shirts.

Alright, alright, he may not have accosted me as described above.  In fact, it might have even been my idea.  Who's to say?

So that's about it.  I ran some errands yesterday but only because I needed additional supplies - movies, books, food, cat food - in order to continue my impression of an agoraphobic recluse. So far I've watched:

• Friends With Money
• Must Love Dogs
• The Princess Bride
• Pillow Talk
• Fight Club
• Brother Outsider:  The Life of Bayard Rustin

And I have these in the queue:

• Burn After Reading
• Ghost Town
• The X Files

And if there's time I can always watch these again:

• The Comedians of Comedy
• The Royal Tenenbaums
• Talledega Nights
• French Kiss
• City of Angels
• Snatch

What movies can you watch over and over again?

. . . I forgot how tasty 100 Grand bars are!

Can a couple of you come over and clean my house? I'm too hungover to do it but it's kind of bugging me.

KTHXBAI.

• Dudes, I'm so glad it's Friday. There's no way I can fake my way through any more of this week. I've had a sinus infection and been on antibiotics since Monday. I've spent my entire week wondering why or when I put my head into a vice, wishing I could use a screwdriver to scratch that infernal itch on my eardrum, and never knowing just when the antibiotic is going to send me running to the can with the green skitters again. I have an appointment with my ear-nose-throat specialist today to find out why my tonsils are still swollen and my head still hurts. I'm hoping it isn't meningitis. Pray for me.
  
  
• I went back over to Heathybear's new apartment last night to do some more painting. When I was there on Sunday she and I were able to finish the dining and living rooms. We put taupe on the walls. It came out purple. Not kidding. There was no getting around it, the color turned purple on the walls. So last night she took the paint back to Home Depot. They wouldn't remix a new gallon but the gal added some black tint. Didn't help at all. So we decided to fix it ourselves and started adding other colors to the "taupe." We started with a quarter of a can of yellow/cream, mixed it in, put it on the wall, and waited to see what would happen. Initially you could tell a difference. We liked it and were hopeful. In under 5 minutes the new color disappeared into the purple. So we added a quarter can of green. Still purple. We added a quarter can of white. Hopeful, hopeful, hopeful . . . still freaking purple! So then we added a shit ton of chocolate brown and just started painting. At this point we didn't care if it was different, we were putting it on the walls. And sadly, we couldn't even tell where we'd been. Well, except for the trail of spills I was obnoxiously leaving as I went around the room. It was still purple. I got the bright idea of putting some on a wall in a different room. I marched into the bathroom, slapped some on the wall and about fell over. Taupe, a rich, beautiful taupe. Can you believe it? All that work and it's the lighting in the room that makes that TAUPE paint look purple. The gal at the paint store suggested Heathybear use yellow lights in the room. We made fun of her right up until the moment we painted the bathroom taupe. The lighting is so funky in that apartment that all of the colors look different at different times and from different angles. It's a bit spooky. We decided that a little old gay man lived there all of his adult life, cheerless in his metaphorical closet, always pining for flamboyant wall color but choosing taupe so as not to give away his secret, and now he's messing with Heathybear from the beyond in his quest for a colorful apartment.
  
  
• The Lady Who Doesn't Lunch is FINALLY back from her 3 week hiatus. Hi, Lady! We missed you! She commented on yesterday's post and said she was sorry to have missed the 20 Questions series. Since she was one of the inquisitors I went back and made a "20 Questions" category in the "Concierge" section of the sidebar. So, Lady? Go! Go now and read them! I answered your question first.
  
  
• Don't forget Big Brother 10 starts Sunday night. I am more than ready for some entertaining TV. I'm thinking about reinstating Big Brother Bullets. Anyone have an opinion?

I love words. I thank you for hearing my words. I want to tell you something about words that I uh, I think is important. I love . . . as I say, they're my work, they're my play, they're my passion. Words are all we have really.

We have thoughts, but thoughts are fluid. You know, [humming]. And, then we assign a word to a thought, [clicks tongue]. And we're stuck with that word for that thought. So be careful with words. I like to think, yeah, the same words that hurt can heal. It's a matter of how you pick them.

There are some people that aren't into all the words. There are some people who would have you not use certain words. Yeah, there are 400,000 words in the English language, and there are seven of them that you can't say on television. What a ratio that is. 399,993 to seven. They must really be bad. They'd have to be outrageous, to be separated from a group that large. All of you over here, you seven. Bad words. That's what they told us they were, remember? 'That's a bad word.' 'Awwww.' There are no bad words. Bad thoughts. Bad Intentions.

And words, you know the seven don't you? Shit, Piss, Fuck, Cunt, Cocksucker, Motherfucker, and Tits, huh? Those are the heavy seven. Those are the ones that will infect your soul, curve your spine and keep the country from winning the war.

Shit, Piss, Fuck, Cunt, Cocksucker, Motherfucker, and Tits, wow. Tits doesn't even belong on the list, you know. It's such a friendly sounding word. It sounds like a nickname. 'Hey, Tits, come here. Tits, meet Toots, Toots, Tits, Tits, Toots.' It sounds like a snack doesn't it? Yes, I know, it is, right. But I don't mean the sexist snack, I mean, New Nabisco Tits. The new Cheese Tits, and Corn Tits and Pizza Tits, Sesame Tits Onion Tits, Tater Tits, Yeah. Betcha can't eat just one. That's true I usually switch off. But I mean that word does not belong on the list.

Actually, none of the words belong on the list, but you can understand why some of them are there. I am not completely insensitive to people's feelings. You know, I can dig why some of those words got on the list . . . like cocksucker and motherfucker. Those are . . . those are heavy-weight words. There's a lot going on there, man. Besides the literal translation and the emotional feeling. They're just busy words. There's a lot of syllables to contend with. And those K's. Those are aggressive sounds, they jump out at you. CocksuckerMotherfuckerCocksucker. It's like an assault, on you. So I can dig that.

And we mentioned shit earlier, of course. Two of the other 4-letter Anglo-Saxon words are Piss and Cunt, which go together of course. But forget about that. A little accidental humor there. Piss and Cunt. The reason Piss and Cunt are on the list is that a long time ago certain ladies said 'Those are the two I am not going to say. I don't mind Fuck and Shit, but P and C are out. P and C are out.' Which led to such stupid sentences as 'OK, you fuckers, I am going to tinkle now.'

And of course the word Fuck. The word Fuck, I don't really . . . well, this is some more accidental humor, but I don't really want to get into that now. Because I think it takes too long. But I do mean that. I mean, I think the word fuck is an important word. It's the beginning of life, and, yet it's a word we use to hurt one other, quite often. And uh, people much wiser than I have said, I'd rather have my son watch a film with two people making love than two people trying to kill one other. And I of course agree. I wish I know who said it first, and I agree with that. But I would like to take it a step further. I would like to substitute the word fuck, for the word kill in all those movie cliches we grew up with. 'Okay Sheriff, we're gonna fuck ya now. But we're gonna fuck ya slow.' So maybe next year I'll have a whole fuckin' rap on that word. I hope so.

Uh, there are two-way words, but those are the seven you can never say on television. Under any circumstances you just can not say them ever, ever ever, not even clinically. You can not weave them in the panel with Doc and Ed and Johnny, I mean it's just impossible, forget those seven, they're out.

But, there are some two-way words. There are double-meaning words. Remember the ones your giggled at in sixth grade? "And the cock crowed three times.'' Hey, the cock the cock crowed three times. It's in the bible. There are some two-way words, like it's okay for Curt Gowdy [mis-spelled in original transcription. -ed.] to say 'Roberto Clemente has two balls on him.' But he can't say, 'I think he hurt his balls on that play Tony, don't you? He's holding them. He must have hurt them by God.' And the other two-way word that goes with that one is prick. It's okay if it happens to your finger. Yes, you can prick your finger, but don't finger your prick. No, no.

George Carlin, May 12, 1937 - June 22, 2008

Even though I don't want to be on my own blog right now, I do still love it over at your web houses so I was sitting at my desk quietly visiting with some of you. My desk faces a set of windows that look out onto my back yard. Where I could see some damn ass-faced Thumper bunny dining on my new plants like he was at an all-you-can-eat buffet on crab leg night. I was instantly furious.

Since I don't own a gun I decided my next-best action would be to sing opera at it. I opened the window slowly, so as to not startle the little darling, and then yelled, very loudly and off-key, "Kill the Wabbit! Kill the Wabbit! Kill the Wabbit!" The atrocious cacophony that is my singing voice scared the rabbit into the next yard and now the neighbor kids think I'm crazy. Two birds, one stone.

And now I share with you my operatic muse, a Merrie Melodies cartoon starring Elmer Fudd and Bugs Bunny. My favorite part is when Elmer calls on SMOG! to smite de wabbit.

Very few people come here on Saturday, it would seem many of you have real lives, whatever, but for those of you who do stop by on the weekends? I'm not going to be here. You see AT&T has this new bundle of products that they are calling U-verse, and I'm gettin' me some today.

This isn't intended to be a commercial for this fabulous new product, but I feel compelled to tell you that I'm getting it so that I can record up to four . . . count 'em FOUR! . . . TV shows at once. I don't ever expect to need it, but I've got it in case of an emergency. Plus, for the cost of my prior satellite package alone (you know . . . the one where I could only record two shows at once), I'm getting high-speed Internet, too. It's all supposed to be really fast and reliable because somehow each end-user has a dedicated line. Best part? I can eliminate my land phone line which I only had for DSL and satellite anyway. More, better stuff for less money. Wicked cool, eh?

They're supposed to be here in 10 minutes, I haven't had my coffee, and I still have to go suck up all the cat hair from behind entertainment centers and stuff, so bye! Hopefully these guys know what the hell they're doing and I'll be back later today. If not, I suspect I'll be having breakfast at Bread Co. tomorrow to avoid the Internet DT's. Happy Saturday, peeps!

From back in the day when cartoons were racist, celebrated getting drunk and featured hot jazz soundtracks. Happy Hump Day!

Every week on Men in Trees Marin, the female lead, foreshadows the episode’s plot in a radio show broadcast. She waxes poetic about a topic during her radio show and finishes with a thought-provoking question that is answered in the next forty minutes. This week she asked, “In a relationship, do you have the right to remain silent?”

You see, her live-in boyfriend, Jack, was recently lost at sea for five days, during which time he was forced to cut another shipwrecked, and dying, mate loose from his rescue raft. I know, the premise is fantastic, but bear with me, I’m going somewhere here.

Jack’s character is stoic. He’s not an open guy nor is he overly demonstrative. He’s the handsome, silent archetype and his experiences at sea sealed him up tighter than a drum. Marin struggles with his unavailability while simultaneously being reunited with a former beau, Stuart, a man who expresses himself easily.

In the end, Jack experiences an epiphany about the importance of communication in a relationship, clearly and concisely expresses his fears to Marin, who instantly forgives him and all is well. But we all know it just ain’t that easy.

Outside the confines of your television set, this couple would have entered the fight with enough baggage and agenda items to obstruct any real resolution. Names would have been called, heirlooms would have been thrown like the first pitch on opening day and somebody’s mama would have been insulted.

It happens. We’re human. Most of us don’t fight fair. My prior, serious relationships failed for many reasons but much of the heartache in both could have been avoided if we had been better communicators.

So no, Marin, you do not have the right to remain silent in a relationship. In fact, what you have is an obligation to be open and vulnerable, to share yourselves freely. If you can’t do this, it won’t likely last. But if you can, you might actually get to meet my elusive friends: Trust, Respect and True Love.

If I am lucky enough to get another chance at it, I hope I can remember these things. Maybe I should just go ahead and bookmark this post for quick future reference, no?