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Archive for August, 2008

Somehow, whenever I say something in public, a weird synchronicity comes along.
The parent website of this trailer (if you click, it will download in Real Media) came to me from Donna Barr, once again. I salute, in thanking her, all those who mine the ore of the tacky and tasteless.
Topical and timely yet wafting the [...]

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I always hated Gilbert and Sullivan. It seemed to me to be a fetish of the simultaneously snooty and G-rated mind, a sort of Mensa songbook for people who like to show off their eidetic memories and don’t know how to shut up.
So naturally when I got married — disastrously and heroically — it was [...]

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I note looking back that I have a lot of posts in Idiots. This means either that I am a curmudgeon or that idiots are pretty thick on the ground, probably both.
What I realized today in the gym was that we need to have a national moratorium on Talking About Your Diet — sort of [...]

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King of Beers

Talking about David brings me to other members of the cast, marginal players at best, but they form the scenery around my digs, more or less.
I moved in here thirteen years ago, buying the house from an eightyish woman who had painted most of the interior guava pink and mentioned as we signed the papers [...]

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I mentioned my gardener in the last post. I can never decide whether David is a cross I have to bear because I’m too nice to get rid of him or the kind of character that I couldn’t eject from the bad novel I am living in.
I fished him up from a neighborhood flyer twelve [...]

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I have decided my yard needs a bat house.
I haven’t written anything here for a week because the weather was hospitable and I finally felt like I had my foot on the neck of my yard. I know that’s a difficult visual, but humor me. Since June I’ve been wrestling invasive plants, overgrowth, and simple [...]

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Brucie

I have finally gotten a grip on the fricking Hammer sled machine. After Stiletto’s former trainer opined that I could have a quad sweep more like hers if I squatted low — which after a ridiculous three-year death struggle with a blistering hip injury, I’m finally ready to do — he added that I was [...]

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Stand By to Call 911

My gym is in the back of a huge shopping center which could just about declare itself a sovereign Southeast Asian nation. I mean there are foo dogs at the front entrance, with a big red pagoda-like structure arched over them. I don’t know if the owners did this for good Feng Shui, though I [...]

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I mentioned in an earlier post Donna Barr’s strip The Desert Peach, which gave birth to an operetta. It’s a zippy, surreal, campy piece with music by the late Michael Seyfrit, a genius of sardonic schmalz who could work miracles with a three-man orchestra.
I am not only a fan of this piece but I have [...]

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