Water Lilly Alley

Just Minding My Own.

So I’m kicking this yesterday morning minding my own and I hear a knock on the door. Deciding, what the hell, I thought I would answer it. Heaven knows how many times opportunity has left in a huff over the years in lieu of my not opening the door.

And sure enough, this is one time I really should have ignored the knock because standing side by side were two of the most polite spit shined dressed Born Again Christians I think I have ever met. Warented or not. And they were straight out Born Again and not Jehovah Witnesses or Mormons because I didn’t see any bikes on the lawn. Or perhaps they just hadn’t progressed to bike level yet. Who knows…

Seeing as how I have never really invited God’s messengers in for a talk in the past I thought why not. And so they introduced themselves as Molly and James. I’m not sure if these were there real names or just earthly slave names.

So we sat down to a cup of tea and they started in on saving my soul.

I mean they wasted no time and jumped right into for God so loved the world that he gave his one and only Son. That whoever believes in him shall not perish but have eternal life. Well I didn’t know what to say to that so I stuck with the old… Wow, that’s very impressive. What else do you have?

Well not jumping a beat they rolled right over ito Christ died for your sins and according to the Scriptures he was HE WAS BURIED - I mean they were looking me straight in the eye making sure I saw the importance of JC going down that road to save us– that HE WAS RAISED AGAIN on the third day.

Hot damn, I’m not going to mince words here but they way they came across on this statement left me a bit shaky like my sins were going to start bubbling right there on the rug in front of us.

So all I could come back with is “WOW really” – looking them straight in the eye – and saying… “Yeah a few of my friends have died and seems that all they can manage is forever.”

Now this went on for about 15 minutes until I changed the subject matter to the massacre at Virginia Tech and sure enough they advised me that the shooter was a troubled individual but that we along with the multitudes could rest assured that the students that were killed were now in HIS KINGDOM.

What the fuck… I mean that really sucks… The way I look at it people have been dying since day one and even if half of those people ended up in HIS KINGDOM why would HE feel the need to take a handfull of students out just for the hell of it. This just doesn’t make sense and if that were me I should be wondering what kind of deal breaker they would be offering me at the gates for being jerked out of my life and the hearts of my loved ones here on this earthly plain to move into an apparently very crowded housing project.

But instead I said… “Wow, I really need to give this some thought because I really hadn’t made plans for when it comes time to not be. And if I’m going to not be I need to know where my options to not be will be.”

I think this may have confused them because they both sort of looked at each other and then at their watches and said they had to move on.

After bidding then a warm and happy life I went back to internet surfing and ended up on Wikipedia, one of my favorite haunts and Lo and Behold I came across this little ditty, by accident mind you…

The small  village of Pussy is located in the commune of La Léchère in the Savoie département of France , not far from Moûtiers. The name derives from the Gallo-Roman name Pusiacum, from pusus meaning little boy. Lying near the river Isère and the mountain of Mont Bellachat , the village boundary covers 18 km² (6.8 mile²).  In 1561 the population was recorded as 1455 people, 548 in 1776, and 276 in 1979. Pussy and several other small villages were merged into the La Léchère commune for administrative purposes in 1972

                        ----------------------------------------------
The above photo was taken this morning at 7:45 from my living room window using a 50-150 mm zoom, giving an illusion of being in the clouds. What a lucked out shot.

=a=

At least now when I'm trying to cut a deal at the pearly gates as to where I'm to spend eternity I think I will opt for a little quaint village in France.

God bless my newest visitors, I have seen the light.

The Flipping of Eddie- A one act play.

Rodney thought as he sat in the car. Sure, on the streets everyone knew Shelly was crazy and for anyone that ran with her for any length of time, well sooner or later they ended up the same way – Just another moron trying to run a circus without a clown. And that mistake alone had left a lot of saps walking in the cold because they thought like the fool before them, that being a victim was not in the cards. Not in their deck anyway.

It seemed like days when it was only this morning that Shelly called and had asked to meet Rodney at the El Royale Motel room #3 at 5:45 and to come alone.

There were two things in life that Rodney wasn’t good at: Waiting was one and being in love, the other, the second taking first place, for over the years he had found that being in love was nothing more than waiting, waiting for the other shoe to drop. But Shelly was different. Yeah, sure she had a string of convictions longer than a pickpocket’s reach, but she also had a way of leaving her scent on him that seemed to linger far into his better judgment.

And now all the answers were about to unfold, he still didn’t believe that she was about to flip Eddie, no one had as of yet and lived. But then again, why else meet at the El Royale Motel?

Then and Then again.

After work last night (10:30), I decided to catch a movie. With two choices I went with ‘Superbad’ with Michael Cera, Jonah Hill, Seth Rogen, Bill Hader, Evan Goldberg.  Yeah, that what I thought. The other film: ‘Death at a Funeral’ with Matthew Macfadyen, Rupert Graves, Alan Tudyk, Daisy Donovan, Kris Marshall and again I have no clue who these people are.

So as I said… I ended up going to see Superbad. Not the best choice. The trailers and reviews run it as a comedy and basically it’s about two high school nerds who want to get laid before going to college.

Yeah like that storyline hasn’t made the rounds.

And in order to do this they needed to purchase a shit load of alcohol, which creates the plot line seeing as how they are not of legal age to follow though on such an unlikely task. Oh yeah, did I say it is rated a comedy.

Well unless one enjoys watching someone become a vomit target and then later or someone else stopping a barrage of internal chewage with their face or several pencil drawings of various penis sizes by an obsessed horny kid, or having menstrual blood from some jocks girlfriend staining your pants as you are in the middle of dirty dancing you won’t find much humor in this coming of age film. How it ended up with such rave reviews is beyond me. My blood sugar must have been very low when I decided to shell out $10 for this fiasco.

The other film… the one I didn’t opt for: Death at a Funeral – basically it is about a dysfunctional British family that gathers for the patriarch's funeral. Tensions rise, old conflicts are uncovered and, when a man arrives saying he's the dead man's gay lover and threatens blackmail, drastic measures are taken.

Now that is comedy. Will have to catch that this weekend.

Which allows me to launch into my next feature.

Notable Blogs of Interest... 

Remember when surfing into a journal or diary, meant you could kick your feet up, sit back, catch a little insight from the author of the journal, find a great photo or two of his /her adventures into the real world or you would find something to muse over and if nothing else that just a plain old good laugh.

Then we became comfortable in what the 90’s journal world offered and as we lived from various cupsof tea, napped, or just plain enjoyed recording life as we knew we became complacent and out of nowhere, silently hovering overhead hummed the mother ship, barely audible, but there, it was not long before she began to unleash her multitudes of baby blog pods into the Blog-o-Sphere and before we knew it: Online journals and diaries became a thing of the past.

Journal / Diary burbs began to die off. (Spit, Glance, Upoad and No Spring Chicken) went 404 or were bought out by porn sites. And they didn’t just die off but were vacuumed from memory, leaving most of us with an a fading attention span and before we could say “Pamie, Tigers and Bears” we became adapted to clicking though blog links like a sailor through whores on a Saturday Night.

Well some of us avoided the song of the mother ship and continued to record our lives and art for nothing more than just doing it. Call it a natural compulsion of sorts.

Here are a few online of those journalist that held out for the long run and still write and post in a manner that makes cruising the Blog-o-Sphere enjoyable.

The Sole Proprietor: And one great photographer… Feel like taking a festive stroll through the bay area, find the best sushi houses this side of LA or just see what its like to live in curtain of white noise then this would be a nice stop over you wouldn’t want to miss. Posts are short, thought provoking and offer up a slice of real life..

Idle Idiom: Quick, witty, and the perfect definition of ‘Snap’ Bump into her car and I guarantee that she would be so kind as to take a photograph of your auto so that you would have a decent idea and to what it looked like before she began work on it. You’ve just gotta love that kind of consideration. Curry and Gucci she is.

Obstination.  No that is not a typo… What can I say about the one-woman think tank? We’ve been around the block a few times over the last six years. You may remember her from the journal Inertia. A long time friend, whom now freelances for the local paper in Montreal and is a very dear friend IRL.

Awoni: Damn this girl has had so many journals, diaries, blogs not to mention a boat load of crumpled postit notes with jotting for an entry that I have to keep a log just to know where she’s currently writing. It would be nice Alice to keep me updated. Memory is tough on a guy that spent his formative years in the 60’s

And of course I could not leave without Mercy Street formerly known as Suicide Blonde

And where world the Internet of years past be without The Wondering Jew.

Sasha just gave me a raised eyebrow for not mentioning her... but sheesh, you need a sledge hammer to get into her site... and if anyone looks back to the code of this site you will see that it is named after her old site. I'd Rather Eat Glass... women!!

 

Do drop in and give these folks a read… they will add a smile to your day. I promise.

 

City of Angels

A Merciful Thought.

Hot oatmeal,
brown sugar,
mama
and the sound of
Tom and Jerry
on
Saturday
morning.

A.Valles

The Short Bussing of America

"Area Yellow Jacket" is a part of an off-limits bus base near the Capital in Washington.
The base is really not a base as they would like us to believe but a dubious short bus manufacturing area. The Smarties are sure it is used to hide the truth from the rest of us. The S.O.I. (The State of Incoherence) recently designated the three-block area near Pennsylvania Avenue as ‘The Idiot Grounds.’ Such a move is no doubt proof of a government attempt to throw us off the track by having us think there is not a cover-up when there is one. This is a cover-up of the cover-up, typical of government agencies when dealing with sensitive information regarding people with conscious and rational thought.

Since you can be shot for thinking rationally near Area Yellow Jacket tourists must view the sacred ground from a distant vantage point. Many do this, hoping for a glimpse of an actual Short Bus Person. (SBP) Apparently, our government has a treaty with the right wing idiots that allows them to fly into this area at will, as long as the government can experiment on them and try to get them to adopt to the S.O.I.’s doctrine. “You don't really think that any normal human could have come up with the idea of the wanting to commute in a short bus, do you?” Said Yellow Jacket aficionado Mile Longmier.

Skeptics don't doubt that something secret is going on in Area Yellow Jacket. And what is going on may be more sinister than building secret aircraft or developing new weapons. "Oprah" did a segment where a team of savvy housewives suggested that Area Yellow Jacket may indeed be an illegal short bus manufacturing facility where buses are assembled on a 24/7 shift to accommodate the dumbing down of America. If so, Area Yellow Jacket might turn out to be hazardous to your health in more ways than one.

Several former workers at Area Yellow Jacket and widows of former workers have filed lawsuits against the government for injuries of long term senselessness resulting from being directly exposed to the Bush administration while working on the buses. One former worker said that Old Smirky himself would come down to the yard and cut brush for hours on end without so much as thought to himself or others all the while whistling Dixie. “It was the most horrendous thing I have ever witnessed” Said long time bus builder Diana Stores. “It was as if he didn’t have a brain at all, much less a heart or even a mild patch of courage.” And to think he was allowed to use a chainsaw while visiting the area. So far the government has been protected from such suits because of "national security." In fact, on more than one occasion the government would not acknowledge Old Smirky’s existence for his own good.

Such denials, of course, do little more than provide more ammo for those who claim there is a government conspiracy to dumb down America by providing free short bus transportation so as to create a feeling of complacency.  

The existence of Area Yellow Jacket was declassified, but the area is still off-limits both to civilians and normal military air traffic, however my team and I recently broke into the facility and photographed the assembly line. If you have any doubt now that the current administration is not out to Barney down the nation then may your God be with you in your hour of need.

The Scent Of A Tattoo

A wise man once said that the definition of insanity is to continuously perform the same action time and time again while expecting  different results.

And indeed it is.

For instance a few months ago I ran out of cologne and as a creature of habit I spent a at least an hour in three different department venues looking for Safari by Ralph Lauren: there is something that really captures me with that fragrance. I have used it for years and found it to be a little bit easier on the senses than Jade East ($7.99 unboxed) or Hai-Karate which you can only find on eBay. Go figure. Boy, those were the years…

So not finding my favorite personal scent I decided on something else, something that was on sale at the time and came with a bottle of after shave lotion as a bonus gift. Now here is where the insanity comes in.

When does one use after shave lotion? After shaving, of course and as we all know that when shaving you scrape the hell out of your face and neck. So why in the hell would you want to splash it with scented isopr opyl alcohol?

Oh yeah… because you received it as a special bonus gift.

And that is “What” I do every other day. I can’t throw it away. It’s sits there waiting like a pair of boxers once the elastic has three years since worn off. After shave and boxers know that you will never toss them… it’s a man rule of sorts. Well the good news is that I’m about 1/3 the way through the bottle.

Insanity.

Another example of insanity in my humble opinion would be tattoos. Personally I not a walking canvas but I have seen a few tats that really do it for me. But where you something that involves pain you have insanity.

Case in point…

This cat at work has this huge shoulder tat of something I can’t quite figure out. I think it has something to do with black flames and barbed wire. The deal is… that he is in the process of having it lightened by laser. From his words, not mine: “That mutherfucking process is the worse pain I have ever encountered, ever!!.” 

From what I understand is that it takes three to four sessions to lighten the image, not to remove it. To remove the image that would take another three to four sessions. And why is he going through so much pain to have it lightened?

Answer: To have another one in its place: A Koi in a pond with cherry blossoms…

Insanity.

I hope for his well being that Koi remain fashionable for the next ten years or so.

Oh and girls… I don’t want to leave you out. We could talk about spiked and pointed shoes but that is a whole day’s worth of word slapping on this old worn out keyboard.

So let’s talk about lower back Tats. You know the ones I’m talking about, the cute little ivy vines growing around a squiggly heart just above the panty line or perhaps the cute little angel wings on the small of the back which symbolizes your freedom and the power to be separate from the group.

That’s cool and all and god knows I have admired way more than my share of lower back tats. But, what nabs me are the long term issues. You see lower back tats have only become popular in the last 15 years or so and everyone and her sister has one. My daughter being no different…

Now, I don’t want to be a party pooper here but what about time and gravity?

In about thirty years I can hear a few grandkids sitting at the little thanksgiving table and saying…

“Hey, grandma has something growing out of her butt, it looks like ivy.”

Or

“Hey dude that’s nothing, My grandma sat on an angel, nothing left but a set of wings sticking out.”

 
Ok Kids, I’m outta here, see ya in a few days.

When Your Ship Finally Comes In...

Even though I may be second in line I still don’t know how long the wait is or where the line may end but I’m not taking any chances.

• Lawn chair.
• Sunscreen.
• Bottled water
• Ham and cheese sandwich
• Hat
• Sunglasses
• Package of Red Vines

• IPod.
• Cell phone.
• Book: Willful Creatures by Aimee Bender.
• Book: Tumble Home: Amy Hempel.
• Can of tuna for stray street cats.
• Pocket knife
• Compass
• Camera
• Jacket
• Sleeping bag
• Money
• Condoms
• Turkey sandwich
• Avocado
• 1 peach
• Chess set and board

More Bee People (The Scout)

Do you feel stuck in a rut?
Would you like to explore your adventurous side? Do you dream of becoming a bee that others look up to but the pressures of daily life mean that you haven’t yet found the time to devote to this?

Are you living tired of just being part of The Buzz.
Are you at a very low point? Is self esteem and self confidence a distant memory that was once saran wrapped around your heart? Would you like to tap into the super powers of breaking away from the hive for days at a time?

Skippy’s Bee Scout School just may be the place for you.  We at SBSS can motivate, inspire and encourage you.
We DO understand and will magically encourage you to revive your enthusiasm for a creative life though bee scouting and flower plundering.

SBSS can also help you cope with your new life as a result of:

•Managing your time by flying aimlessly nowhere.
•‘De-organizing’ and stabilizing your physical, mental and emotional environment by not giving a sh*t.
•Seeing rejection and bad news for what it is ‘ bad news and rejection’ and how to pretend that you really care what other bees think.
•Maintaining creativity through daydreaming in the shade miles away from the biz-buzz of the hive.
•Maintaining energy and motivation through the world of non-pollinated flowers. 

Is there adventure in you?
Do you feel that the time has finally come to say “Fu*k it” to the noise and congestion of community living. 

Do feel that you are an expert in what a flower wants… what it longs for, WHAT it needs and that the rest of the hive sees you as a misfit not able to conform?

Whether you are embarking on your first two week solo scouting escapade - or the definitive ‘See ya when I see ya’ getaway, you’ll be able to clarify your ideas, identify possible destinations and, of course, find the time to sit down and do nothing without having some raging fickle Queen ragging on you.

We know that reconnaissance can be a hard slog but Skippy’s Bee Scout School can help. We have more than twenty years' experience of professional escapism. We understand the pitfalls, both internal and external, and with our carry anywhere pamphlet of “What To Say At Exactly The Right Time” when approached by anyone of commanding stature you will be able to:

•Look and sound convincing.
•Hide your permanent smirk.
•Avoid slaps and swats from bee haters
•Understand the cross-pollinating process
•Not look like a bee slut.

So if life has left you at the corner of ‘Nowhere and Forever’ call us now and begin what we in the industry have come to know as ‘BS ‘to the second power: B- Smart / B-Something.'

 For other bee people.

More on the L Word

One thing about hitting mid-life early in life is that it allows for one to  compare how things are now to how they were back in the day. And there are just about as many things to compare as there are people to compare them. The common thread: Things are so much easier now than they were back in the day.

Case in point…

Celebratard Lindsey Loham is so low profiling since her recent arrest for DUI and cocaine possession in Santa Monica
this past July 24^th that most of us almost forgot about her. Almost, because like a pimple on one’s hind quarters it is much easier to hide than a pimple on one’s nose. And frankly… we were hoping that she had made it south to society’s back side – so as not to blemish the less than angelic City of Angles any more than she already has.

However, NEWS FLASH… she is still front and center on LA’s schnoz and is plainly trying to gain forgiveness and I think more than not… to get back into the good grace of her contract holders by entering rehab.

AGAIN.

Although, technically, this would be her first time it is in Utah, yes, the lovely state of Latter-day Saints. And her third stay for those of us that are waiting for her to hit bottom and end up at Starbucks with The Two Corey’s.

Now, is it just me or is she trying to really play this up that she is serious about rehab? Agreed, there are just so many things God can do, but when his miracle day planner is filled to capacity, best head on over to his other chosen people and see what they can do I say.

I guess the rehabs centers here in Los Angeles are just a little too lax when it comes to letting *cough-cough* guests out to shop during the day and to hit a few clubs by night as long as they are in by 3 am.

But this rehab in Utah... Cirque Lodge facility… WTF?  I’m not making this up. I couldn’t. And if I’m correct isn’t cirque just a French word for circus.

Come on everyone, let’s stand up and give the Mormons a rousing hand of applause for getting another foot into the door of the new American Dream: Making money by allowing brats to do what they please in the guise of atonement.

Back in the day… one went to rehab for various reasons. I will name a few here for the younger set.

1. You lost your job, haven’t changed clothes in two weeks, can’t remember the last time you shaved, crashed your car, you smell like dog ass.
2. Your spouse is about to leave you. (Note: after you’re sober they leave you anyway, being drunk just covered up the real crap most of the time
3. Your wife is pregnant for the fourth time and you haven’t had sex with her in two years, that you can remember.
4. Life has become unmanageable and suicide is your best thought of the day.
5. You can never find your car keys.

There are many more but the above list will give you some sort of idea as to how it USED to be.

Celebratard Loham's list seems to be just a bit different.

1. Her production company is about to drop her.
2. When driving over the speed limit and swerving from lane to lane she is pulled over by police who have never seen ‘Mean Girls’ ‘A Prairie Home Companion’ or ‘The Parent Trap’.   
3. She becomes dehydrated.
4. Becomes exhausted after not sleeping for five days straight.
5. Because Britney did it.

You see back in the day. Rehab was taboo, and if you did go in, you never went back a second time. You had one shot. Yeah, the wife still left you, the kids still threw all the crap you ever did back into your face. Money remained a major issue. But the upside was that you were sober, clean, and even smelled decent. They say don’t sweat the small shit. Well, most of life is small shit and when you do get sober you realize that you either deal with the shit or it deals you… OUT.

In the end, the Linster may get the picture, but I doubt it. I mean, when I was a kid, going to the circus was a treat for something well done by us kids.

Oh well, I guess just the definition of a situation makes it all the better. 

In the meantime… I’m going to find a nice fitting little black hood, not to tight but just loose enough so as not constrict, something fashionable and beach boyish and head on down to Santa Monica beach for a little water boarding.

Isn’t summer wonderful?