
Fear me.
About 6 or 7 years ago, I managed to break one of my upper right premolars. I held off doing anything about it for a couple months, until it eroded enough that the nerve became exposed and I was praying for death. So I went to the dentist and had him yank it out. No fuss, no muss-that was the end of that, right?
Nuh uh.
This morning I felt this weird not-quite-pain where the premolar once was. I ran my tongue across it and I felt something hard. I thought maybe I had a piece of food stuck in there so I poked at it with my finger (and looked damn classy while doing so, I must say) and it didn't budge. So I go get a mirror and take a look and sure enough, there's a new got-dang tooth springing up in my 31 year-old mouth.
Before anyone says it: it wasn't a baby tooth. I did all my tooth losing and growing when I was still in elementary school. So the only other possible explanation is that I'm just a freak of nature. It's weird enough that I don't have any underarm hair (nada, nothing, not even fuzz. Not that I mind), now I've got unexpected replacement choppers forming.
Hell, maybe it's some kind of strange karmic reward. I've always gone out of my way to practice proper oral hygiene, and aside from breaking the tooth to begin with, I've never had any problems with my teeth-not one cavity (we'll just gloss over the wisdom teeth chapter of "My Adventures With Dentistry"). That's more comforting than the other explanation, which is that I've become something akin to a sideshow attraction and will soon have to start hanging out with the bearded lady (mom?) and the beloved Bat Boy.
Actually, that would be a pretty sweet deal, so I guess I win either way.
Friday, February 29, 2008
It's Official: I'm a Mutant
Saturday, February 23, 2008
Filmed in Glorious Sphinctervision
I thought about posting a movie today like I used to, but I couldn't find one that suited my mood. Instead, I'm just posting an old music video.
I'd say something about it, but I'm too flabbergasted to come up with a description. All I can say is it would take some cheese of epic proportions to replace The Shatner's spectacular(ly bad) cover of Rocket Man in my heart. This doesn't quite cut it, but I'd say Telly has come closer than anyone ever will.
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
This Man is Wearing a Push-up Bra. Now he is Pleasing
Today is the 48th birthday of Joel Hodgson, creator and original host of MST3k. In the interest of full disclosure, when I was in my late teens, I would have gladly offered him my hand in marriage had the opportunity arisen.
In honor of this day, I've made a top 5 list of my favorite Joel episodes of MST3k (difficulty: no Manos) and I'm including one of my favorite shorts.
1. Eegah!
2. The Amazing Colossal Man (The episode that broke my MST3k cherry, as it were.)
3. Mitchell (Joel's last episode as host, and the only episode that ever made me cry.)
4. Attack of the Eye Creatures
5. Godzilla vs. the Sea Monster
Sunday, February 10, 2008
Sunday Music Dump

I feel blechy and I don't feel like deciding what songs to post. Plus, the site I usually use is all wiggy lately and I don't wanna do battle with it. But if you want some music, feel free to use This. To paraphrase a televison ad from my youth: You do all the work so I don't have to.
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jamie
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11:54 PM
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Labels: Music Dump
Friday, February 08, 2008
Stress, Strife and Stupidity

I haven't posted in awhile and since my absence has been noted by at least one person, I figured an explanation was in order (that, and I want to purge my brain a little.)
I don't feel like going into the exact details of everything that's gone on in the last few weeks, so here's the basic info about the big offenders:
My nephew. He's been living with us (me, Harper and my parents) full-time since the day before Thanksgiving. He and his mom had a falling-out due to his behavior so my mom told him he could stay here. Well, his behavior has gotten worse since then and he and I had a scuffle last friday. We're getting along ok now, but his attitude and the things that have happened due to that have caused a great deal of unease in the house. Which leads me to...
My parents. My mom has pretty much had enough of my nephew, but she doesn't quite know what to do about it. She knows that there's only a couple of things she can do to get him to straighten up, but they're the hard choices. She's been put in that position before by other people (including me) and when it came down to it, she was capable of doing the whole 'tough love' bit and it worked each time. But the thing about tough love, is it's just as tough on the person doing the loving as it is on the victim, er, recipient. So for now, she's not doing anything, and her nerves are shot because of it which is making her moody as hell, WHICH in turn, is making everyone around her (except my nephew, of course) miserable.
Add to that, my dad retired right before Christmas and he's kinda got ants in the pants about it. He's not used to not working and being home and being forced to endure all the drama has him pretty fed up. So he and my mom are tense with each other, and I get to listen to her wondering why he's so distant and cranky lately. The mind boggles, mom.
My precious pets. Pepper went in heat 2 weeks ago and last week, she was in full-on whore mode. Patches, my boy, my little sweet baby, couldn't handle it. He whined and sniffed and humped and finally he managed to seal the deal. Repeatedly. So in a few months, I may be the proud owner (briefly-I can't keep them) of even more dogs. On a related note, he has an appointment with the vet on Monday morning...
Then there's Harper. Things are rough for her lately. Her best friend decided her didn't want to be friends with her at all anymore, and he made it known in the snottiest, meanest way possible. Then she had an appointment with her psychiatrist last week and he switched her medication. It hasn't started to fully work yet, and she's gotten marks against her in her school folder every day this week. On top of that, I had to call the school nurse to tell her about the change in meds and I swear to god, a more priggish, condescending woman you will never meet. I think my biggest pet peeve is people telling me shit that I already know and acting like they just laid some capital-K Knowledge on me and in that conversation she did it ten times over.
That's not even half of everything, that's just all I'm willing to talk about here. All I can say about the rest of it, is that the words "Bipolar disorder", "Community Service" and "Homeschooling" are involved. They aren't assigned to just one person, I just say it to give you a general idea of what I refuse to come out and say directly.
So I have to deal with all of this. Everyone else has their own drama going on, so I don't get to talk about it (minus those of you that know the whole story-my friends who live in the internets have been great). Plus, I'm one of those people who other people like to tell their problems to and the thing about people like us, is that we're not supposed to have issues. We're not supposed to have our own drama to deal with. We're not supposed to vent or bitch, we're there to listen to THEM and if we're stressed we're just supposed to suck it up and deal. Fuck that noise, goddammit. I'm tense as hell and I'm ready to climb the water tower across the street and start picking people off. 'Course, I don't have a gun, so I'd probably just end up chucking peanuts at passing cars or something.
So....For those of you wondering why I haven't been posting, now you know.
Sunday, January 27, 2008
Tuesday, January 22, 2008
RIP Heath
The details of Heath Ledger's death are all over the place, so I'll forgo copying/pasting the obit. I wasn't a huge fan, but I'm saddened by the loss of someone so young and with such a promising career. Plus, I'll always have a soft spot for him because of 10 Things I Hate About You:
That's one of my top 5 favorite guilty pleasure movies of all time. Such a shame.
PS-It seems a little inappropriate to tack this onto an RIP post, but: Some of the comments on the last few posts are being temperamental. They don't show up when you click on the comments then they reappear when you refresh. It's either my computer or it's Haloscan acting up again. If it ISN'T my computer, I just want to make it known that I'm not deleting comments-I don't roll that way
Sunday, January 20, 2008
So What's The Opposite of Schadenfreude?
I don't like the idea of having my last 2 posts being about death, so I thought I'd put something positive up here. Ain't ya glad?
Last week, while reading about the death of Brad Renfro (came close to posting about him dying too, but opted instead to pay tribute in the form of a new blog header. Sort of.), I came across a comment on one of the sites that mentioned actress Natasha Lyonne, someone who seemed destined for the same fate as Brad. I always liked Natasha ever since I saw her in The Slums of Beverly Hills, and I hated that she'd had so many problems in recent years-drugs, career in the crapper, that thing with the dog.
Anyway, according to this random comment, Natasha has finally gotten her act together and is working again. I did some investigating, and lo and behold, it's true. According to IMDB she's got 4 films in post-production and will soon be appearing in the Mike Leigh play "Two Thousand Years" in New York.
I just think that's great.
The only thing that bugs me, is that there's hardly been anything said about it. I came across maybe 3 articles about it, 2 of which were kind of snide. People go out of their way to spread the news when someone fucks up, but when they manage to get their shit straight, no one cares. Don't get me wrong: I enjoy a good train wreck. Britney Spears wasn't even a blip on my radar screen until the cheese slid off of her cracker. And I was one of the ones cheering the loudest when Paris Hilton was stuck in the revolving door of the LA County jail system last summer. But you know what? As dark as my heart is, when Paris walked out of the jail for the last time, a part of me was happy for her (I got over it, though.) And you know what else? If Britney does-by some miracle-manage to regain control of her senses, that'll make me happy too.
See, I was once a royal screw-up, and I came through it. No power on this earth could make me go into the details here, let's just say that it was a bad scene all around. I think that experience has something to do with my being so happy about Natasha's turnaround and the possibility of others doing the same, but I think it's more than that. I think that deep down, I just might be a nice person after all and quite frankly, that frightens the dickens out of me. It's just easier to be a bitter old bitch, you know?
At any rate, as I mentioned before, I found a few articles about Natasha and one of them was pretty sweet, so I'm going to share it with anyone else who might also be hiding a nice person, deep, deep inside of them. You know who you are.
NY Times-'When Living at All Is the Best Revenge'
Posted by
jamie
at
6:30 PM
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Labels: Natasha Lyonne
Goodnight Emily

LOS ANGELES (AP) — Suzanne Pleshette, best known for her role as Bob Newhart's wife on television's long-running "The Bob Newhart Show," has died, just days before a ceremony honoring her with a star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame.
Pleshette, who underwent chemotherapy for lung cancer in 2006, died of respiratory failure Saturday evening at her Los Angeles home, said attorney and family friend Robert Finkelstein. The beautiful, husky-voiced TV, film and theater star was set to attend the Jan. 31 ceremony, her 71st birthday.
"She was a pro's pro," Bob Newhart said. "Although we knew she was quite sick, she was one of those people that you thought would go on forever."
"The Bob Newhart Show, a hit throughout its six-year run, starred comedian Newhart as a Chicago psychiatrist surrounded by eccentric patients. Pleshette — as his sardonic wife — provided the voice of reason.
Four years after the show ended in 1978, Newhart went on to the equally successful "Newhart" series in which he was the proprietor of a New England inn populated by more eccentrics. When that show ended in 1990, Pleshette reprised her role — from the first show — in one of the most clever final episodes in TV history...
Indeed.
AP
Saturday, January 12, 2008
Hey, You Got Your RIP in My Saturday Movie
I was all set to go to bed earlier when I read that 50s horror host and all-around cool chica, Vampira, Had Passed Away. In addition to her hosting gig, she was also a sometime actress, and her most notable role was in a little movie called Plan 9 From Outer Space-perhaps you've heard of it?
I have and I consider it one of my most favorite movies of all time and I say that without (hardly) any irony. It's not a good movie in the classic sense of the word, but it is entertaining. I think Ed Wood's goal was to tell a frightening tale of the ignorance of humanity and where it's going to lead us (kinda like The Day The Earth Stood Still, I guess), but instead he ended up making one of the best unintentional comedies of all time. Basically, poor Ed's heart was in the right place, he just didn't have the means, the encouragement or the talent that was required to pull it off.
Regardless of what he meant to do, Plan 9 ended up being the greatest bad movie of all time (Hal P. Warren can kiss my little white butt-HIS movie was just bad-bad) and the death of Vampira reminded me of that. So I watched it. Again. And it was good. Or bad. Whichever.
So. Even though I've posted it once before, I'm going to post it again in honor of Vampira. The way I look at it, there's only 2 kinds of people in the world-those who've seen Plan 9 and those who haven't. The people who haven't seen it need to see it and the ones who have, the ones who've actually managed to sit through the whole thing, are the types who'd sit through it again-and like it. I'm performing a public service, really, in addition to showing my respect for an awesome lady.
2 birds, one stone. Yay me.
Posted by
jamie
at
2:54 AM
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Labels: Plan 9 From Outer Space, RIP
Sunday, January 06, 2008
But I Don't LIKE Thousand Island...

I haven't posted anything really weird in quite some time (or anything at all, come to think of it. What can I say? I've got the post-holiday lazies) and I miss it. I like posting songs and movie stuff, but more than anything, I'm fascinated by oddball people and the monkeyshit crazy things that they do. Or want to do, in this case.
I don't know what to say about this thing I'm going to post. Aside from not wanting to spoil it before anyone's read it, it's just one of those "WTFF" things, and while I have many questions milling about in my head over it, I'm too nonplussed to put all of them into word form. I mean, without giving all of it away, is there actually a woman out there who would want to spend time with some nut she's never met when the only thing she'll come away with is an empty colon and a striking similarity to Bob Geldof in The Wall? Well, actually, after all that rich holiday food, an empty colon is looking pretty good right about now...
But I digress.
I'm going to post a link to the thing instead of posting the text here, because quite frankly I don't want anyone finding their way here while looking for something like that. I get enough drop-ins via kooky search terms to suit me, thankyouverymuch (on a related note: I'd like to help the woman who wants to be a 'little slut for her man' and I could probably come up with some advice had I more information about your situation. However, I don't think you're going to find what you need in a post about one of my dogs. My apologies and I wish you and your fella much luck in contacting your inner whore. Just stay away from my pets.)
And now, for my inaugural post of 2008, I not-so-proudly present:
A Very Complicated Request, Please Kindly Read
Sunday, December 30, 2007
Monday, December 24, 2007
Of Maude and Midichlorian
Before I start, let me say that I promise this will be my last Christmas related post. This year.
Onward we go.
I've taken a break from my normal Christmas Eve routine of cleaning and watching cartoons to bring you a video. My intentions were to post the MST3k version of Santa Claus Conquers the Martians, but they only had it on YouTube and it was broken up into a bunch of different parts. Piss on that.
I did some more searching and I came across something better (well, not better than MST3k-that's crazy talk), or possibly worse depending on your outlook. I'm not going to say much about it, mainly because I've never had the pleasure of watching it. However, if everything I've heard is true, I'm certain to like it, much like I like the films of one Edward D. Wood Jr.
Ladies and gentlemen, my gift to you (and to myself) this Christmas is the infamous "Star Wars Holiday Special", starring Mark Hamill, Carrie Fisher, Harrison Ford and...Bea Arthur. Come for the Force, stay for the Bea.
Merry Christmas everyone.
Posted by
jamie
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2:11 PM
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Labels: Christmas, Star Wars Holiday Special
Sunday, December 23, 2007
Thursday, December 20, 2007
Crazy Christmas Redux
Before I switched gears on the mentally ill xmas carols post, I went hunting for an appropriate picture to go with it. I couldn't find one that suited me, but I did find a bunch of odd Christmas music album covers, enough that I thought it warranted it's own post. I'm probably wrong, and it DOESN'T warrant it's own post, but I've never let that stop me before.
Nothing very special about this one, but it's Liberace, therefore campy, therefore it's going in:
This one comes with a complimentary cheeseburger:
I don't know what's going on here:
"Mom! Call the cops, The Temptations are peeping in the windows again!"
This one isn't so strange on the surface (in fact, I quite like the Ronettes), but the words "A Christmas Gift For You, From Phil Spector" made me guffaw:
I just plain want this one:
And finally, Oooh you're gonna buy my Christmas album, ohhh:
Christmas CarLOLs
I read a Daily Mail article yesterday about a magazine that's edited by mental health patients that's caused a bit of a to-do. See, they published a list of Christmas carols with tweaked titles that take a little piss out of various psychological maladies. The problem is, some woman with a big ol' stick up her butt has pitched a fit and made them pull the list because she got all offended or something. Blogger won't let me link the article for some reason, but it's just your basic bloated, hokey Daily Mail story, so it's no big deal. The only good part of the story is the list of carols, and I'm a-put it here for your convenience, plus it makes me laugh, which is the important thing.
Monday, December 17, 2007
You're a Star-bellied Sneetch, You Suck Like a Leech

This week we're voting for best children's book over on Hispanic Time and it's made me a tad nostalgic. It took a fair amount of deliberation before I decided which one I was going to vote for-The Chronicles of Narnia. Even though once I decided I was 100% sure of my choice, my thoughts kept returning to another story-Dr. Seuss' 'The Sneetches'. I loved The Sneetches when I was a tot and I fell in love with it again when I got in the habit of reading it to Harper when SHE was a tot, or more tot-like than she is now (she's only 9; still a baby. To me.)
The Sneetches is a simple, humorous tale that highlights the pointlessness of conformity. It's also a neat little allegory about the idiocy of racism, kinda like that old Star Trek episode about the black and white cookie-lookin' people, only the Sneetches stop short of trying to kill each other, and there's no Shatner. It's a nice way to introduce young children to the ideas of tolerance and individuality, if you're into that kind of thing.
While The Sneetches is by no means obscure, it's not up there with your 'Green Eggs and Ham"s and your "One Fish, Two Fish..."s in terms of Dr. Seuss books, so I'm going to post the text here for the poor souls who are unfamiliar with it. It's the holidays, I'm feeling all generous and shit.
"The Sneetches"-By Dr. Seuss
Now, the Star-Bell Sneetches had bellies with stars.
The Plain-Belly Sneetches had none upon thars.
Those stars weren’t so big. They were really so small.
You might think such a thing wouldn’t matter at all.
But, because they had stars, all the Star-Belly Sneetches
Would brag, “We’re the best kind of Sneetch on the beaches.”
With their snoots in the air, they would sniff and they’d snort
“We’ll have nothing to do with the Plain-Belly sort!”
And, whenever they met some, when they were out walking,
They’d hike right on past them without even talking.
When the Star-Belly children went out to play ball,
Could a Plain Belly get in the game? Not at all.
You only could play if your bellies had stars
And the Plain-Belly children had none upon thars.
When the Star Belly Sneetches had frankfurter roasts
Or picnics or parties or marshmallow toasts,
They never invited the Plain-Belly Sneetches
They left them out cold, in the dark of the beaches.
They kept them away. Never let them come near.
And that’s how they treated them year after year.
Then ONE day, it seems while the Plain-Belly Sneetches
Were moping and doping alone on the beaches,
Just sitting there wishing their bellies had stars,
A stranger zipped up in the strangest of cars!
“My friends”, he announced in a voice clear and clean,
“My name is Sylvester McMonkey McBean.
And I’ve heard of Your troubles. I’ve heard you’re unhappy.
But I can fix that, I’m the Fix-It-Up Chappie.
I’ve come here to help you.
I have what you need.
And my prices are low. And I work with great speed.
And my work is one hundred per cent guaranteed!”
Then, quickly, Sylvester McMonkey McBean
Put together a very peculiar machine.
And he said, “You want stars like a Star-Belly Sneetch?
My friends, you can have them for three dollars each!”
“Just pay me your money and hop right aboard!”
So they clambered inside. Then the big machine roared.
And it klonked. And it bonked. And it jerked. And it berked.
And it bopped them about. But the thing really worked!
When the Plain-Belly Sneetches popped out, they had stars!
They actually did. They had stars upon thars!
Then they yelled at the ones who had stars at the start,
“We’re still the best Sneetches and they are the worst.
But now, how in the world will we know”, they all frowned,
“If which kind is what, or the other way round?”
Then up came McBean with a very sly wink.
And he said, “Things are not quite as bad as you think.
So you don’t know who’s who. That is perfectly true.
But come with me, friends. Do you know what I’ll do?
I’ll make you, again, the best Sneetches on the beaches.
And all it will cost you is ten dollars eaches.”
“Belly stars are no longer in style”, said McBean.
“What you need is a trip through my Star-Off Machine.
This wondrous contraption will take OFF your stars
so you won’t look like Sneetches that have them on thars.”
And that handy machine working very precisely
Removed all the stars from their tummies quite nicely.
Then, with snoots in the air, they paraded about.
And they opened their beaks and they let out a shout,
“We know who is who! Now there Isn’t a doubt.
The best kind of Sneetches are Sneetches without!”
Then, of course, those with stars got all frightfully mad.
To be wearing a star was frightfully bad.
Then, of course, old Sylvester McMonkey McBean
invited THEM into his Star-Off Machine.
Then, of course from THEN on, as you probably guess,
Things really got into a horrible mess.
All the rest of that day, on those wild screaming beaches,
The Fix-It-Up Chappie kept fixing up Sneetches.
Off again! On again! In again! Out again!
Through the machines they raced round and about again,
Changing their stars every minute or two. They kept paying money.
They kept running through until the Plain nor the Star-Bellies knew
Whether this one was that one or that one was this one. Or which one
Was what one or what one was who.
Then, when every last cent of their money was spent,
The Fix-It-Up Chappie packed up. And he went.
And he laughed as he drove In his car up the beach,
“They never will learn. No. You can’t Teach a Sneetch!”
But McBean was quite wrong. I’m quite happy to say.
That the Sneetches got really quite smart on that day.
The day they decided that Sneetches are Sneetches.
And no kind of Sneetch is the best on the beaches.
That day, all the Sneetches forgot about stars and whether
They had one, or not, upon thars.
Posted by
jamie
at
4:15 PM
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Labels: The Sneetches
Sunday, December 09, 2007
Monday, December 03, 2007
I Believe the Children Are Our Future...And it Scares Me

I was sorting through my computer files this weekend, and I came across a thingamabob that I'd saved with the intention of posting it at some point. What this thingamabob is, is a sampling of questions from Teen Health FX, which for the most part is a fairly straightforward site devoted to answering questions and promoting awareness on a variety of topics related to teenagers, with an emphasis on drug and sex issues.
Here's the deal, though. As has become apparent to anyone with a lick of sense and an internet connection, teenagers are getting dumber by the day and the questions that I've collected from THFX are glaring, painful proof of that. While most of the THFX questions are your run-of-the-mill Seventeen Magazine-style "I'm pregnant and I don't know what to do" or "It burns when I pee-HELP!" queries, the ones I'm posting make me fear for the future of humanity. Or they would if I wasn't so busy laughing my ass off.
Read and enjoy. Then go have a long talk with the nearest young person in your life.
Dear TeenHealthFX,
I think I'm pregnant! I'm only 17 and don't know what to do, I'm not sure because if I am pregnant I have drank and smoke since then would the baby be dead from this?
Dear TeenHealthFX,
Can you get pregnant by doing it up the butt?
(Ow)
Dear TeenHealthFX,
Me and my boyfriend (online) have cyberish phonish sex, I use a pool stick and he masturbates and we imagine its each other, and we talk on the mic while we do it, and he tells me in and out, is this a form of real sex? Am I still a virgin or not? I did pop my cherry when I first did it, also is this in anyway dangerous to my health?
(Aww?)
Dear TeenHealthFX,
I am a 15-year-old girl and have never had sex. I masturbate by putting a teddy bear into me. Is this normal? Can I get pregnant or STD's? Please help me! I will stop if it is dangerous, but it feels so good.
(Ew)
Dear TeenHealthFX,
I have small PAINFULL lumps in my vagina. I have never had sex. The tops of the lumps are black and greenish. WHAT COULD THIS BE??? I am really scared.
(Uhh)
Dear TeenHealthFX,
I'm a 19-year-old gay male. I've a gay partner and we often indulge into anal sex. My worry is that will my partner get pregnant? Please help me with this
And my personal favorite:
Dear TeenHealthFX,
I wanted to know what it was called if you tried to have sex with a tree?





