And the Bengals are in the SUPERBOWL!

Yesterday, no shit, a coworker came up to me and asked if I had ever heard of Steven Wright!

It was amazing, because when I looked back to my computer, it was GONE! There was an old Apple II sitting there. AND when I turned on the radio, George Bush (the first one!) was being sworn in as President! I was all "What th'?"

It got worse: I went out to lunch and Hothouse Flowers were relevant! People were debating which wife Ken Olin was married to in real life.

On the bright side, the meat at Taco Bell was the old pre-"Border Lights" era meat. And the taco sauce was still in the little tubs!

When I got back, things seemed to have returned to the present. I await the next time-slip, possibly caused by some query such as "Have you ever seen that movie Black Rain?" or someone here saying "I listen to all music from rock to rap!" then firing up some Young MC to get "crazy."

Housekeeping

Added a "followers" gadget, because, apparently, that is what the kids are doing.

If you read this crap with any regularity, please check in as a follower!

That way I can get a bunch of followers and tell someone who might actually someday pay me (this was written six months ago when there was an economy and kept in a coffee can) that: see! I DO indeed have a "web presence."

Sick!

Jeopardy!: "malquotes double plusgood," apparently

Last night on Jeopardy!, there was a category called American, Lit. Cute! Drunk writer stuff.

There was a quote I'd never encountered from one Raymond Chandler:

Alcohol is like love. The first kiss is magic, the second is
intimate. The third is routine.

Sweet, thought I. I can reblog that!

Aha!, but then, in the cold light of morning, a Google search reveals the full quote is actually:

Alcohol is like love. The first kiss is magic, the second is
intimate. The third is routine. After that you take the girl's
clothes off.

Now, admittedly, the first one makes more sense...the second one is like ol' Liquorface Chandler realized he had stepped in it with a hard truth and he'd best take a step back with some racy humor.

But, my question for the prudes at KingWorld is: why the edit? I mean, have they not wielded their heavy and powerful sword already by not having me on the show after taking the online test twice (and last year I got 46 of 50 right!)?

Or maybe, did Alex shave off his mustache, not because, as he claimed in one of those obtrusive "Alex Minute" things, of a sudden spur of the moment decision, but rather because the Powers That Be, lurking asea on Merv Griffin's old yacht like Scientologists, suddenly realized he looked too much like THIS GUY (third from left)?:










And, if there are no further updates after this, you will know what has happened to me:












Unperson relents!

"Ebola is back"

Wanted to see if there was a vid for "Hey, Lloyd, I'm Ready to be Heartbroken," and there is, but I did NOT know that said vid would feature DEBBIE DOWNER! Seemingly.

Though I do understand the art-schoolness of being so amazingly glum-looking and it's funny.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UP1SjEgwp-w

Also: once heard this song walking through a Sears in Columbus at whichever mall up there has H&M. Which was odd. Same week I learned about L Rust Hills. Sigh.

Peepster

Also reading Tony Visconti's autobiography, which included this nicely WTF anecdote:

The natural reverb of the studio can be heard in the opening bars of "Jeepster"
with Marc banging his platform-show heels on the floor. The atmosphere
that day was electric, with two big hits under our belt [sic] and a tour in
America it made us all feel like heroes. Marc was inclined not to wear
underpants and during a very exuberant take of "Jeepster" he split the seam of
his pale green satin trousers, exposing his bare bottom. Unabashed, he
removed his trousers and Barbara, who conveniently had a sewing kit with her,
mended them as Marc leaned on the studio piano with his back to us, naked from
the waist down.

Oh, great, so now every time I hear "Jeepster" (once a week?), I will have to blot out visions of MB standing there with his elfin junk in the breeze while some woman whom you know looks just like Janice from the Muppets patiently weaves "pale green satin trousers."

Lady Chatterley

With the inauguration upon us and everyone all a-dither, I'm of course reading Lady Chatterley's Lover [?].

It's really good! Even if old DH looks like he'd be the sound man for Fleet Foxes or something ("More snare?"). Or a weather-beaten "where are they now?" of little Henry from ET.

First line is EPIC:

Ours is essentially a tragic age, so we refuse to take it tragically.

Had I known of that at the time, that just may have been the slogan for this here blog!

And yes, it's dirty, but not offensively so, by today's (admittedly repulsive) standards. It's more in the revelatory vein that people have always had sex and complicated sex lives.

Also, he keeps talking about "colliers" every five words or so, so I left my toasty six-blanket bed to traipse to the dictionary last night and saw that a collier is a coal-miner! Never knew this, so: thank you, DH!

(also: now listening to Welcome to the Pleasuredome, because it's a new age and it's all about pleasure and Fairlight synthesizers, as you know)

Morrousseau

Waiting for bloodwork on one of the cats yesterday (she's fine - thyroid), I was reading the intro to A Social Contract by Rousseau (as one does, he said, not even a bit hyper-pretentiously) and I came across a quote wherein he mentions his precocious reading in his l'il Swiss village and his love of Greek and Roman philosophers and wham!, there was a quote that was SO the first line of some to-be-written Steven Patrick LP opener:

I was Roman by the time I was twelve.

I may need to swipe this, actually.