Archive for June, 2009

Please, PLEASE Don’t Have Children!

Tuesday, June 30th, 2009


OK, so it’s almost 2:00 AM and you’re drunk and your boyfriend is even drunker and has pot in his pocket. He’s speeding down the highway in a county known for its tough DWI enforcement and wildly tries to make a left turn. The car careens off the road and  smashes into an auto dealership taking out the front row of cars.  He then  jumps from the car and starts running.  Do you:

A. Step out of the car, start crying like a little girl, and put your hands on the hood knowing the cops will be there in a minute? Or,

B. Exit the car, open your mouth and gaze into space feigning amnesia? Or,

C. Stumble behind the wheel even though you don’t know how to drive and try to get away?

For the correct answer, go to:

(If this link doesn’t  work, copy and paste it into your address box)

Whatever Happened to Limbo?

Tuesday, June 30th, 2009


Limbo Dance


Clara LimBow


Limbo Tie


Rush Limbo

Another Reason I’m a Recovering Catholic

Monday, June 29th, 2009


I got into a typical, intellectually-bereft discussion with a few catholics who had been brainwashed into their ‘abortion is wrong’ conclusion – but couldn’t think of the reasons why. I brought up at least five solid, immediate ways we could  end three-quarters of abortions (no one – including me – thinks abortions are a great choice) but they gave me a confused, “Priest didn’t talk about this” look. Sorry, Sheeple. Back to the fields.

Do you want to know one reason I DESPISE the catholic Church?

Did you ever meet my brother, Joseph? No? Neither did I. He was born one year before me in 1949. He was born ‘stillborn’. My parents were crushed. Can you possibly imagine scrimping and saving for a bassinet and baby clothes, getting the the room ready and all – and then trying to find or borrow money for a baby casket and funeral?

My Mom wanted to be a nun. Thankfully (for me) she changed her mind. But she never stopped being a traditional catholic and was sorry when the “mass” went from Latin to English. So was I. It didn’t make any sense in Latin – it made less sense when I learned what they were trying to say in English.

Anyway, my parents planned their little white-casket baby funeral BUT Joseph couldn’t be buried in a catholic cemetery BECA– USE HE WASN’T BAPTIZED. Now maybe they could have dumped him in the dirt just outside the fence (cremation then not being a catholic “choice” in those days) – or in the backyard – but not in “consecrated” ground.

More bad news followed: Joseph had no chance to go to “Heaven” – he had to go to “Limbo”. Not the dance – but the low rent housing projects halfway to Heaven where you didn’t get a golden trumpet, you got a plastic kazoo.

My Mom was crushed. She prayed and prayed – but still believed. Then came Vatican II in the early ’60’s and they ABOLISHED LIMBO! Say what? No Limbo? Did Joseph get an ‘E’ ticket (no-waiting-Disneyland) to heaven? Uhhhh….don’t know. Not quite clear. My Mother lived with that the rest of her life – and STILL believed in a game where they change the rules when your money is already on the table.

What’s that you say? Don’t I believe in the Pope, the Cardinals, the Robins, and the Pigeons? I sure DO! Just as much as I believe in Jimmy Swaggart, Jim Baker, Ernest Angely, and the late, Dr. Gene Scott.

A Great Dining Experience…for Ants and Flies

Saturday, June 27th, 2009


A woman asked me out for a picnic. She doesn’t know me very well.

“A what?”

“A picnic.”

“Why would I want to go on a picnic?”

“C’mon! It’ll be fun.”

Now in my mind, I have priority lists of things that are fun – most of them are legal. “Picnic” does not even make my “So You’re Still In a Coma?” fun list.

“Well it might be fun for the ants and flies – but I just never “got” picnics,” I said.

“Lots of people go on picnics,”, she said.

“Look,” I said, “do you know how many thousands of years it took for humans to go from rock caves to Levittown?”

“What’s a Levittown?” she asked.

“I mean picnics are held OUTSIDE, right?”

Her eyes narrowed – she wasn’t going to get trapped on this one. “So?”, she said.

“The outside is where they keep the ants, flies, mosquitoes, wind, rain, and dirt – right?”

“I’m going,” she said, getting up. I hadn’t even realized our ‘relationship’ had risen to this level of dementia.

“Where are you going?”, I said.

“Out. To the doctor’s – the dentist’s – fill in whatever excuse you want.” And she left.

TBD – (right). I wonder if the “Orange Woman” likes older men who don’t like picnics?

Farrah’s Farewell

Friday, June 26th, 2009


This post first appeared here on May 15th.  Farrah lived just 40 more days.

The NBC mini-documentary on Farrah Fawcett’s final stages of colon cancer will begin soon on TV but I’m not going to watch it. It’s too personal – too close to home. Ten years ago, on June 9, 1999, my 49th birthday, I was diagnosed with stage-3 colon cancer. At stage-4, it’s only a matter of time and you don’t buy green bananas. Farrah is in the last weeks of stage-4.

Although I’ve been “in remission” for 8 or 9 years, I guess “it” will come back one day – in one form or another. People get cancer in different ways – most of them unknown. All the words to “fight it” are clichéd and well-known: “courageous fight,” “long battle,” “long-time survivor,” blah, blah, blah. In the end, it doesn’t really matter.

If you die from cancer, it doesn’t mean you didn’t fight as hard – or were less determined – or didn’t have the most advanced care. What I believe is it’s pretty much the luck of the draw. Fate determines your time and I doubt if lobbying for a “stay” or running all around for alternative cures are anything more than time-killing distractions.

My Mom died of cancer at 62, Farrah Fawcett’s age. Just like Farrah, I never once heard her cry “why me?” Mom spent too much time in what were then called “cancer wards” and she had only one regret: the children dying around her didn’t get to experience all the joys of life with which she was blessed.

We all have so very much to appreciate and to love. If you can’t experience all of that with a joyous heart, you’re probably already kind of  dead.

He Should Have Gone Naked Hiking Instead

Wednesday, June 24th, 2009


South Carolina’s Governor, Mark Sanford said today that he disappeared for 4-days because he went to South America for an affair with an Argentinian woman. Sanford apologized to his wife, his four boys, his family and the people of South Carolina for leaving his staff and family to make up excuses for his absence. At one point, his staff insisted he was off hiking on the Appalachian Trail.

When will this culture learn that sex and love have little to do with each another? Forget the lies you were taught! Forget the 5000-years of brainwashing – which made sense at one time because of unclaimed children and disease. Forget the possessive, insecure male-dominated, religious bullshit which tries to keep you in line! Yes, sex IS better with someone you love – so is eating cheeseburgers – so what?

I’ve seen too many love relationships destroyed by sex. People think they “love” one another to justify and not feel guilty about their sexual drives. They become ‘crazy in love’. We teach our kids, “Sex is a dirty, disgusting thing. Save it for someone you love.”

The only person who can tell me sex is ONLY a good thing when it involves someone you love has never masturbated. I’m waiting.


Paul & Peggi’s Special Cat, Ornette

Wednesday, June 24th, 2009


Forever, 2009

Bless Me Father For I Have Sneezed

Wednesday, June 24th, 2009


Bless me Father for I have sinned. Uh, maybe we’d better start on the small ones first. I’ve had some bad thoughts since my last confession. I’d kinda like to go in reverse, chronological order here – is that OK, Father? Thanks.

I got on the elevator this morning with a big basket of laundry and the bottle of detergent teetering on top. I hate doing laundry so I’m not in a real great mood anyway. The laundry and I are taking an elevator ride down to the ‘machines ‘o wash’ when we stop at one of the nether floors and this doofy guy gets in.

He looks at me, then down at my laundry and soap, then back at me and says, “Gonna do laundry?”

Now Father, I know ‘God works in mysterious ways’ – why he would put GOAT BRAINS in anyone’s head is beyond me. And right away some wise-ass answers popped into my head. I was tempted (and may I have the confession transcript underline the word ‘tempted’ here? Thanks, Father.) I was tempted to say,

“Nah, the dirty shirts and shorts were getting bored in the closet so I thought I’d take them for a walk in the park.” Or,

“Noooo. It’s my birthday and my dirty clothes are bringing me down to the lounge for cake and soda.”

But I fought it, Father! I think that should be noted here. What I did was, I tried to copy the nitwit’s dumb smile, nodded my head, and then said, “Heh, heh. Yup – laundry.” He nodded back in profound understanding.

So Father, I know mean, sarcastic thoughts are a sin – a venal sin, I might add. But since I fought them back and rolled around on this guy’s level, I think we could drop it down to a ‘Venal – 3rd-Degree ‘ – is that OK, Father? Maybe even ‘Venal -4th’ with an extra ‘Hail Mary’ on top…. OK, Father?…… Father?”


Talia. 2005

Tuesday, June 23rd, 2009


“But he left without his hiking clothes!”

Tuesday, June 23rd, 2009


You were born nude, remember? And what’s the first thing they did after slapping you? They quickly slammed you into swaddling clothes that were so tight, they would make straight-jackets feel like tents. “Cover up your naked, shameful, disgusting body,” was the message. And it was pounded into us so many times, there are still some brain-dead people-pretenders who will only get naked IN THE DARK – even when they’re alone.

I bring this up (just in passing) because I was reminded of it last week when South Carolina Governor Mark Sanford, a Conservative Republican, disappeared for few days without telling his wife, his family, his security people, and apparently, anyone else. Of course everyone tried to pretend to be calm before the cameras – but you just knew everyone was saying “JESUS F CHRIST! WHERE THE HELL IS HE!?” Although no new milk cartons were printed up, there actually was an informal meeting of South Carolina leaders to discuss ‘succession’ – just in case.

Finally, yesterday, Governor Sanford’s spokesman, Joel Sawyer expressed remorse for not divulging details earlier (as if he knew them). “The governor is hiking along the Appalachian Trail,” Sawyer said. “I apologize for taking so long to uhhh… make this announcement…”

Right. The story, however, goes beyond, “Governor Nutcase Takes a Hike”. Sunday was Fathers’ Day and Sanford’s kids might have wondered ‘what happened to Daddy’? But MORE important, the day on which Governor Sanford was hiking is also “National Naked Hiking Day”. This annual event is celebrated on the first day of summer when many people celebrate the solstice by hiking au naturel.

“Didn’t that guy look familiar? I remember his face – but I can’t quite place his…..”

Sexual repression leads to strange behavior – and, it seems to me, this was one strange hike.