hoggify!
Tuesday 15 July 2008 | 2 cookies in the jar
My favorite moment (aside from any time the two falsetto vegan holy men appear to sing backup uncertainly) has long been right after “Oh, liver!” when Cocker, apparently overcome by the thought of organ meat and/or probiotics, FALLS DOWN (or anyway is offscreen for a long moment and then emerges from the bottom of the frame). I’ll have whatever he’s having, please.
[Special note to the Brujo, in NM: I know you practically know the whole documentary by heart, but you really must watch this specially subtitled clip if you can steal four minutes away from composing operas about tomboy princesses, Amazon tribesmen, ferrets, beetles and evil unicorns. Srsly!]
2 cookies in the jar
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hilarious. and uh, can we say “serious drug use?”
Has the UnNarr ever had her home burglarized? Pls share. Inventory of the post-crime BeteGrise lair revealed that nothing was stolen that wasn’t IRRE-effing-PLACEABLE. As the now-immortal George Carlin has said: “Stuff is just stuff unless it’s, like, MY stuff.” Robbers helpfully left behind the pry bar they used to force open the kitchen door, so I guess I can leave THAT under the back door mat for visitors to use instead of the several courtesy keys that no longer fit the frantically changed-out locks.
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Uncontrollable editoral horror: OMG OMG OMG!!!! Oh you poor things. Oh oh oh. No I have not. But the Brujo’s teenybopper midlife-crisis girlfriend did, and it was so weird: She was in Canada or some other godforsaken wilderness on a long Buddhist retreat, thinking I should get rid of my stuff, I have too much stuff, I should just get rid of all of it. After a month she goes back to Santa Fe to her apartment, opens the door and—it’s all gone. Every last stick of furniture, every single object, everything useful, everything personal, everything irrefuckingplaceable. Broom-swept clean. EXCEPT for her altar, naked but for a mocking postcard of a Tibetan deity.
Only yesterday I got a letter from Geico saying “You paid us to insure your car, so now let us take more money from you” and I remembered that when I lived in the UK I did in fact have renter’s insurance, because our house was broken into SO many times, and my housemate Klaus lost all his electronics TWICE, and I guess the thieves just never had time/moral fiber to go up three flights of stairs to my attic garret. And I thought, Well, should we get renter’s insurance? What if they took all the drums, pianos, guitars and computers? What if they took, I don’t know, the cacti? Then I remembered that we have a sixty-five-pound foul-mouthed barking black Cerberus and I sighed and recycled the letter from Geico.
My heart goes out to you and Ms. G. Please vent freely, here and elsewhere—