Here We Go Again...

In case you missed the updates on my MySpace and Facebook pages, I am in possession of two more dogs. Back in October, Maggie and Botwo got their hillbilly on and early this morning the adorable products of their forbidden love made their debut. Just 2, a girl and a boy-Eve (named after the iPod-ish robot from Wall-E) and Sam.

These will be the last puppies birthed in this house-one of my few New year's resolutions is to get all the dogs fixed, lack of money be damned. As I told Jenner, I have this bizarre vision of Bob Barker showing up at my house accompanied by an angry mob, as well he should. It's irresponsible to let your pets go around breeding like canine trailer trash and I'm too refined and dignified for that...I am too, goddammit.

Yeah, yeah, none of you want a PSA. You want to see the puppies, don't you? I've only got a couple pictures so far (I didn't want anyone up in my face with a camera after I gave birth, I figure I can show Maggie the same courtesy. I told you-I'm class all the way), so they'll have to do for now.

Eve is the black and white spotted one, Sam is the shy brown and white one hiding under his Mama's leg.

Oblig. Xmas Music Post

Drifter in the Snow

You're the Laziest Man on Mars

I'm just not feeling Christmas this year. The economy is in the crapper, ain't got no money, it's like 70 degrees outside and I'm just in an all-around poopy mood. However, I soldier on 'cuz that's how I do what...

.....

Technical difficulties


Well, this was unexpected. About 15 minutes ago, I was informed by my daughter that my dog Pepper, a charming mix of Beagle and Steve McQueen, took an unplanned furlough from the backyard. We went to catch her and I have to say for a dog as tubby as she is, she's REALLY fast. I caught her, told H. to hold her collar while I ducked back under the barbwire fence that surrounds the property I had just trespassed upon aaaand she let her go. She took off, my lungs which have been ravaged by at least a decade of cigarette smoke said, "Fuck that noise" and we turned around and came home, sans our beloved fat little escape artist. So she's still on the lam and I'm Googling prices on Commit Lozenges.

But I started this post with the intent of finishing it and by gum, that's what I'm gonna do.

Where was I? Oh, Christmas. Yeah, it sucks this year, I'm over it, whatevs-doesn't matter. What matters is that I'm still in love with the IDEA of the holidays, even if I'm not expecting much out of them this year. But ask not what the holidays can do for you, ask what you can do for the holidays. Kennedy said that, I believe. He was probably drunk at a Christmas party or something, but I'd bet cash money that he did say it at some point-he was a stitch, that JFK.

You know what else is a stitch (and I'm sure we all see what I did there)? Mystery Science Theater 3000. I was poking around in my blog archives and I noticed that this is my third Christmas with this blog and I've never, ever posted this episode. I don't know why, because I love it like it was my own little child. Pia Zadora is in the featured movie and Joel and the Bots perform a song entitled "Lets Have a Patrick Swayze Christmas". Not to end on a down note, but that song is one of the reasons I'm posting this now. I don't reckon the Swayz' will be around next December, sadly and it just doesn't seem right posting a song like that when the subject...Well, you know.

Enough melancholy. Enjoy "Santa Claus Conquers the Martians" and if you don't watch the whole movie, at least stick around for the kicky theme song, "Hooray for Santy Claus". It's a fun tune and sure to diminish any holiday ennui. I should listen to it myself.

AFTER I hunt down that fat little beast.

RIP

I know I'm the only Trekkie around these parts and most of you don't know this woman from Adam, but I'm posting this anyway. Take my word for it-she was awesome as Lwaxana Troi, so suck it up and pay your respects like good little non sci-fi geeks.

Majel Barrett Roddenberry, Star Trek creator Gene Roddenberry's widow and a fixture of nearly every incarnation of the space travel franchise, died on Thursday. She was 76.

Roddenberry, who suffered from leukemia, died at home in Bel Air, Calif., according to a spokesperson.

Before Star Trek, the Ohio-born actress worked on a range of television shows, including Bonanza and Leave it to Beaver.

She was romantically involved with Roddenberry when he launched Star Trek in the mid-1960s. Though he cast her as the USS Enterprise's unnamed first officer in his pilot, she would go on to fame as the secondary character Nurse Chapel in the original series and in subsequent films. The couple married in 1969.

Roddenberry reappeared in the revamped Star Trek: The Next Generation as one of its beloved reoccurring characters: Betazoid ambassador Lwaxana Troi and as the voice of the starship's onboard computer — a job she would also hold on spin-offs Deep Space Nine and Voyager, audio books, animated series, video games as well as on the forthcoming J.J. Abrams prequel film.

After her husband's death in 1991, Roddenberry continued his legacy by helping bring to life other TV projects he had been working on, including the television series Earth: Final Conflict and Andromeda.

Roddenberry is survived by her son, Eugene Roddenberry Jr.

CBC

Dude, That's My Kitchen

Before I get goin' on this post, I'd like to not-so-randomly point out that standing by the side of one of only 2 main highways in a town, waiting to cross at 7:50am when it's 28 degrees outside and sleeting...Yeah, it's probably not the most economical use of time. And yes I did just do that. AND I have a cold-that should be worth some bonus points.

Enn-E-How..

This is how much of a slacker I am: I meant to post this thing last Christmas and I'm just getting around to it now. Sad! What it is, see, is this dude uploaded the pages from a bunch of Sears Wishbooks from the 70s and 80s onto Flickr. Now, if you're of a certain age and economic bracket like myself, Sears WAS Christmas when you were a kid. And if you're even more like me than that (there's a bracing notion to consider), as a child, you'd snatch that catalog up upon its arrival, grab a pen and commence to circling all the great and dangerous toys you wanted (I really had that kitchen. It was metal and pointy and painful when physically introduced to the body. None of this rounded, plastic crap for the kids of the 70s and 80s.) I've noticed Harper does the same thing when the flimsy-in-comparison Etoys catalog shows up at the house. Makes me all misty eyed.

Now, this guy has uploaded several years worth of Wishbooks and there's a lot of pages. Personally I'm partial to the 1979 and 1985 sets, but YMMV. To add a fun element to this, see if you can find the World's Tackiest Naked Lady Oil Lamp somewhere in there. My uncle gave that to my grandmother for Christmas back in the day and us grandkids would make her turn it on every time we came over. My grandmother hated that lamp and if it weren't for the chillun, I don't think that naked lady would have ever seen any action...

Well that didn't come out right. Bah, I'm leavin' it.

Flickr, Flickr Here you are...

Cuz I Wanna Hear it...

RIP

Bettie Page, the 1950s secretary-turned-model whose controverisal photographs in skimpy attire or none at all helped set the stage for the 1960s sexual revolution, died Thursday. She was 85.

Page suffered a heart attack last week in Los Angeles and never regained consciousness, her agent Mark Roesler said. Before the heart attack, Page had been hospitalized for three weeks with pneumonia.

"She captured the imagination of a generation of men and women with her free spirit and unabashed sensuality," Roesler said. "She is the embodiment of beauty."

Page, who was also known as Betty, attracted national attention with magazine photographs of her sensuous figure in bikinis and see-through lingerie that were quickly tacked up on walls in military barracks, garages and elsewhere, where they remained for years.

Her photos included a centerfold in the January 1955 issue of then-fledgling Playboy magazine, as well as controversial sadomasochistic poses.

The latter helped contribute to her mysterious disappearance from the public eye, which lasted decades and included years during which she battled mental illness and became a born-again Christian...

AP

Let Me Out Myself as a Major League Sap...

I'll make this short. Last night, due to a shortage of House reruns, I ended up watching a movie-Four Weddings and a Funeral to be precise. Fabulous movie. And it has that scene in it. You know, when Simon Callow dies and John Hannah recites that W.H. Auden poem at his funeral...

Oh you better believe I cried.

I knew it was coming and I was fine at first, but when he hit that last stanza, I let out this gasping snort-like noise and my eyes started stinging. Then came the tears and the snot. It was nice.

Not to put too fine a point on it, I pretty much have to post the scene and might I add, I'm feeling damn guilty about it. See, etiquette dictates that when someone posts a video on a blog, the readers are obliged to watch it. Even if you're at work, around other people.

Don't worry though, you might not cry. And your coworkers, they may not mock you. Of course, if they do, just show them the scene. Then they might not cry, too.

Photo of the Day

OJ Simpson Gets at Least 15 Years in Prison

I'm not gonna ramble on and on about this-I don't care about OJ Simpson, he can rot in hell for all I care. But I have to say, I'm amazed and somewhat disheartened at how tickled everyone is over this. I get why they're happy: the abusive jackhole killed 2 people and got away with it, now we get our revenge. Yay, let's all hold hands and burn our Naked Gun DVDs.

I'm all for revenge, but I have a bit of an issue with subverting the legal system to procure it. Yes, he was involved in a robbery and that's very, very bad, but he didn't get 15 years in prison for THIS, he got it for THAT, and that ain't cool-no one gets 15 years for a robbery where no one got hurt. Let me reiterate: I think OJ Simpson is a murderous, lying stank weasel, if he gets repeatedly butt-raped in prison, I'll do Numfar's Dance of Joy. He's not important here and that's the point: he's not worth pissing all over the law just to satisfy our collective vengeance boner.

What happened today was not good. What's worse is no one seems to realize it or -more importantly- care.

RIP

So long Mr. Bentley...

Paul Benedict, the actor who played the English neighbor Harry Bentley on the sitcom "The Jeffersons," has died. He was 70.

Benedict was found dead Monday on Martha's Vineyard and his brother, Charles, said authorities were still investigating the cause of death.

Benedict began his acting career in the 1960s in the Theatre Company of Boston, alongside such future stars as Robert De Niro, Dustin Hoffman and Al Pacino.

Benedict went on to appear in a number of movies, including a role as the oddball director in "The Goodbye Girl" with Richard Dreyfuss. But he was mainly known for his role as Bentley in "The Jeffersons," which ran on CBS from 1975 to '85.

AP

From the Co-..Erm...FOR the COOK in Your Life

I came across (Baha!) this link a few weeks ago and bookmarked it with the intention of posting it at some point. Cut to me 2 weeks later cleaning out my bookmarks folder and calling myself a senile old bird for forgetting about it. But that's not important.

The important thing is that...Well, none of this is "important", it's just a cook book. A very nasty cook book. What makes it nasty? Do you want to know? Do you REALLY want to know? Really, REALLY?

I'll give you a hint: have you ever heard someone bite into something spicy and say "Wow, there's kind of a wang to it"? Well, my pure and delicate nature prevents me from elaborating any further. But to borrow a famous query from a great man, "Would you like to know more?", if so clicky on the piccy.

Wait, that wasn't a great man, Neil Patrick Harris said that in Starship Troopers...

PS: We Should be Together Too...

I heard this song last night for the first time since...Heck, I dunno, what year did it come out? Anyway, it's been lodged in my noodle all day, but I'm not posting it just to get the tune out of my head. it's more like an exorcism: it's a damn good song, but it's depressing the hell out of me. I don't need that, I can be morbid on my own, thankyouverymuch Eminem. Hmpf.