Memoirs
Do I ever really want to write a memoir? I’d be in the same horrible bunch as all those other awful aging actors.
When your husband is not your next of kin
Here’s to a more personal, kinder, gentler nation. The politics of compassionate conservatism.
There are two Americas. One America gets its news from the newspapers, and one gets it from cable TV. There is the America for those who read, and the America for those who don’t.
* personal note to whomever, mom, dad, next-of-kin, husband (will I ever get married?): please, please, don’t let me live like this, whatever happens. Take me out; pillow to the face like McMurphy in Cuckoo’s Nest, whatever. Just don’t let me become a drooling nothing. To me that would be worse than dying in a long agony of pain.
Remembering Archbishop Oscar Romero
Before I was born, before I was even conceived, a priest whom I admire was killed in cold blood, in a church in San Salvador.
Romero was killed because he supported the right of poor Salvadorans to equal citizenship in their own society, and he tried to end the use of repression and violence to thwart it.
If you pray, pray for peace.
If you meditate, meditate on peace.
Iraq – two years’ anniversary
“If tyranny and oppression come to this land, it will be in the guise of fighting a foreign enemy.”
–James Madison, and he was a Federalist.
Well, I for one feel a lot safer.
Amazon sells Astroglide
An on line store my mom actually shops at sells lube. And vibes. That’s so cool.
I never really had a need for this; I don’t “do anal” – ok well I don’t do it more than a finger and usually a lick is all it takes. Like Gay Trey sez, “If it isn’t spit, it isn’t love.” But isn’t it great that Amazon – Amazon – sells “personal care” items that are illegal to own in Bible Belt states?
It is illegal to buy a vibrator (unless it’s for medical purposes) in Georgia, Texas, Alabama, Mississippi, Indiana, Virginia, Louisiana and Massachusetts….
Massachusetts? For real?
Then again, the various governments are always getting in your pants, any way they can. I thought Republicans were all about personal responsibility, and against big government.
St Paddy’s Day comes soon
The patron saint of chicken wings, green beer, showing your breasts and binge drinking. A gold mine to bars everywhere, including the one where I’m employed. Drink up, rednecks and frat boys. See you on the front page.
Stacey-Jesus
I moved out of Mademoiselle D’s and have moved in with Stacy-Jesus. I call her that because she says, “thank you Jesus” for practically everything. “Can’t find my keys – oh there they are! Thank you, Jesus!”
She makes Frito Pie and Tuna Casserole. She’s not so bad, really. She’s very sweet for taking me in but she leaves church programs on my bed every Sunday while I’m at work.
Ex foolishness
Talked to my ex – ok well he called me, to say he’s sorry, “I can’t believe I did that, baby,” “What was I thinking?” “You can’t mean it’s totally over because of this.”
I’ll fill him in:
- I can, and I do.
- You were thinking you’ll get free strange pussy
- See #1.
Fecking douche. I can’t believe I was considering going back to him. Just for the convenience, the familiarity, and the sex.
“Are you a real actor?”
I’m not a real actor; by that I mean I have had exactly three paying gigs. By that standard my mom is more of an actor than I am, since she has been a presenter at a car show twice and has worked in little shows at the county fairs in Butler and Sedgwick Counties back in the late 70s.
My three paying gigs were, as follows:
- a spot for Dick Clark’s Rock ‘n Roll Diner (don’t blink or you’ll miss me)
- an ad for used cars (I walked around the lot looking at used cars I could never afford)
- a Target ad
Perhaps I can get a gig doing moan tones:
“For $2.50 mobile phone users can choose from a variety of moans, and sexual noises all recorded by the blond bombshell. If that’s not enough, [porn star Jenna] Jameson will talk dirty to you when your phones rings, in English or Spanish.”
I can do that. I bet I’m better than Jenna Jameson; she’s so fake.
SH had a couple of her movies. Eh.
Try as I might, I just don’t think porn is exploitative of women so much as it’s exploitative of people who buy it. The shit’s $60.00 a pop for a one-hour DVD.