I always wondered where the constant huge influx of LiveJournal users came from. This morning I passed something that explained it to me:
Truckers
Around the world
Let’s see what’s going on in the world…
Prince is starting to do weekends in Vegas. You know, like Wayne Newton.
“The diminutive rocker will play Friday- and Saturday-night shows at 3121, a nightclub inside the Rio hotel, according to a Wednesday news release by P R Plus, a Vegas firm representing the club.
Tickets for the 21-and-over shows cost $125 and will be available beginning Nov. 2.”
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Kerry is still bending over backwards to explain sarcasm to the public. I mean come on. He made a joke at Bush and it was spun against him. Fair enough. But then to make such an effort at going along with the spin instead of fighting it negates the sarcasm from the first round, doesn’t it?
“Mr Kerry, speaking to a group of California university students on Monday, said: “You know, education, if you make the most of it, you study hard, you do your homework and you make an effort to be smart, you can do well.”
He added: “If you don’t you get stuck in Iraq.”
Mr Kerry’s office said he had intended to say: “You end up getting us stuck in a war in Iraq. Just ask President Bush.”"
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Daniel Craig is well hung. Judi Dench reports this news to us all, proving that only old British women can get away with this sort of thing right now.
“Academy Award-winning actress Dame Judi Dench who reprises the role of M in the latest James Bond flick, ‘Casino Royale’ has lavished praise on Daniel Craig’s manhood, insisting the 007 actor’s penis is “an absolute monster”.
The British actress caught a glimpse of the hunky actor’s impressive appendage as he was getting dressed in his trailer which was situated opposite her own.
“It’s an absolute monster. Sorry, I shouldn’t say that, should I? How uncouth of me,” Contactmusic quoted her as saying.”
Footnote Update!
It’s that time again! Time for a new Footnote update, that is, featuring:
Behind the White Door Trevor Whitecliff is stuck in purgatory.
Gently With A Chainsaw Leigh Sholler plays Spider-Man
Just the Right Bullets Adam P. Knave has an obstacle.
Pure Lard D.J. Kirkbride needs a map.
The Truth of the Matter Ryan Dilbert will take “Swords” for $100.
Footnotes in History Matt Speer schools us all.
Spoiler Warning Banter about movies.
Hooray for Comics! Because adults like them too.
the footnote 2 go: Anti Thoughts Dustin Grovemiller wants to be a well dressed man.
Two scenes from last night
Little girl in a stroller. She’s in a neon green bodysuit covered with shiny bits and sparkles. Head to toe green princess and loving life. Sitting in her stroller like it is a throne. Her mother and father push her down the block.
“Honey, you can’t have more candy or you might get sick,” her mother intones.
“But mom,” the little girl says, turning her head to look up at her mother with a perfectly serious stare, “if I don’t get sick how will I learn from my mistakes?”
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A couple sitting on the stoop of a brownstone. Children run by in costume, yelling happily. Both of them look at the kids, she breaks a huge smile but he just watches in silence before speaking.
“You can’t just not go,” he says.
“Why not?”
“You can’t just not show up to work, not even call them…” he tries to explain, but she’s having none of it.
“Halloween is a National Holiday,” she tells him simply.
“No it isn’t,” he says with a laugh.
“Well it should be, and that’ll be good enough,” she tells him, settling the matter.
Happy Halloween
When in doubt, say it with the Japanese:
Arrr!
Just FYI:
This is probably old news to everyone but me. However! Jonathan Davis, the lead singer of Korn, has a son named Pirate.
What is it with rich people and naming kids?
Sunday Nights
There is something nice about having dinner and drinks with S.J., Ariana, CMV, Joe and Sinboy and K’Wiley. Something addictively nice.
God I’ve missed S.J., Cat and K. They’re the type of folks that just make where they are home. And Rasputin’s penis, Ninja Quinn, Medicine Woman and Madonna each only came up for a short while. Honest.
Nice way to end a weekend. If you have the means, I highly recommend it.
Quick shots, the Sunday morning edition
A) Did you remember to set your clocks back an hour?
B) After spending a long time writing Strange Angel I am now having a hard time writing shorter things, since I grew used to the expanse of space I had.
C) With that in mind: I am working on finishing the third and final Mister Binkles story (I highly recommend the short little stories of a teddy bear gone wrong. You can buy the first here and the second here.) but I am plugging away at Mister Binkles and the Inescapable Fate this windy morning.
D) I want to go out today and have a nice dinner at some bar. I might, in fact, do this.
E) I find that most relationship advice can be taken right to the 80s. I mean, watch Some Kind of Wonderful and realize you can still use that movie as a decent template for some low level advice. The Hitcher also works.
Forces spooling from the center of the Earth, I guess.
I have a play list with a bit more than 3200 songs. On the weekends I just turn the speakers off so when I want music I can turn them on and come into the middle of a song.
Lightning Crashes, by Live started just as I flipped the speakers on. The weather outside, this song blasting at me with all of it’s power, the quality of light: suddenly I’m back in Boston in the early 90′s.
The Boston I remember is gone, like all places we leave. Going back wasn’t a mistake when I visited last (hell it was work-related, so in a sense I was paid to go back) but it also wasn’t my Boston. Never will be.
Not the first time I heard the song but it will forever be a Sunday morning on the low part of the Hill, blasting the tune through a small boom box as me and my two roomies (in a tiny one bedroom apt) stood suddenly lost in the moment. Breakfast burned a bit. We were all just caught in the song suddenly, and nothing else existed but that moment.
That moment is still trapped by the song.
Fuck. Some songs. Ya know?
Eisner and Harvey award winning editor, writer and tired person. Novelist, comic writer, cat owner, NY'er.
