RIP

LOS ANGELES - Harvey Korman, the tall, versatile comedian who won four Emmys for his outrageously funny contributions to "The Carol Burnett Show" and was seen to hilarious effect on the big screen in "Blazing Saddles," died today. He was 81.

Korman died at UCLA Medical Center after suffering complications from the rupture of an abdominal aortic aneurysm four months ago, his family said in a statement released by the hospital.

A natural second banana, Korman gained attention on "The Danny Kaye Show," appearing in skits with the star. He joined the show in its second season in 1964 and continued until it was canceled in 1967. That same year he became a cast member in the first season of "The Carol Burnett Show."

Mercury News

10 Years Ago Today...

..I was young and newly married and newly pregnant. On this particular date ten years ago, I had made a trip to the local WIC office (in addition to being young, married and pregnant, I was also poor), and the TV in the office was on the news. This was the story they were covering.

I was a huge fan, in addition to being an hormonal, emotional, pregnant wreck, so I started bawling right there in the WIC office. If memory serves, I think I just got up and went home and didn't go to the actual appointment.

Weird, the things you remember.

Happy Birthday Jenner!!

Due to some late-breaking drama and a major lack of sleep, this post will not be as substantial as I wanted (the brain, she ain't working so good). Be that as it may, I was damned and determined to acknowledge your birthday here, and yes, I know I'm a day early.

YouTube didn't have the CG clip I wanted to post, but this one fits perfectly with the topic at hand. Oh and check your blog-I left you a present there as well (and I'm fighting the urge to make a poop joke here...Heh, I said 'urge' and 'poop' in the same sentence.) Happy birthday, Jenner, and it goes without saying-but we still say it, that's our way-I love you very, very much.

Happy Birthday Melissa!

I know I'm a couple days early, but I have a potentially busy weekend ahead of me, so I thought it best to err on the side of caution and get this up now. I had every intention of sending you something in the mail, but due to, well, stuff, I never got the chance.

I debated a good bit on what to post, before my elephantine memory pointed me towards this. Enjoy, I love you and I hope you have a great birthday weekend!

Bzzzzzzzz

We've got half as many puppies as before: today Molly, Gracie and Rory all went to new homes. Gracie and Molly are still together and Rory's new owners have a couple of other pets, so hopefully they will adjust quickly. Or that's what I keep telling myself to keep from crying.

No, actually, I'm super, thanks for asking. The other 3 have kept me pretty occupied. Plus I had no sleep last night, which has made me extra, EXTRA busy. I don't know what it is, but when I suffer from an hellish lack of sleep, I get a lot of energy. Much like Apu on the Simpsons when he worked for like 4 days straight and he got so wound up he thought he was a hummingbird. That's me today-Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.

I don't know where I'm going with this exactly-I'm starting to think I posted just so I could work in that Apu reference. Like I say, I've had NO sleep, so I can't be held accountable for any rambling nonsense I post.

No, wait, I know what it was. It's pitchuhs', I gots pitchuhs of the puppies. These were taken in the last couple weeks, while we still had all of them. They're between 5-6 weeks old in them and it goes without saying, cute. as. hell.

Rapid Random Rubbish

I've been super-busy this week due to some major drama that really isn't appropriate to talk about here. I mean, I could, but it would be disrespectful to my family as a whole, and as rude as I may seem, deep down I'm all about decorum. You understand.

Once things die down 'round heah', I'll get around to picking a movie and crowning a winner in the "What Should Jamie Watch" contest. Yes, I gave it a name. I'm a nerd. I haven't decided what the winner will get yet, but I can assure you, it will be a major award.*

I did have some time today, so I thought I'd get a quick post up. Only a couple of things to cover, neither of them very important, and both completely unrelated to each other. First up, my iPod.

Recently, I got around to actually rating the songs I have on there-all 700+-and last night while adding some more songs on iTunes, I got to poking around.



If that screencap is to be believed (you might have to click on it to make it big enough to read), those are my favorite songs, if you go by the ratings. I would never have guessed. Neil Diamond? Really?

The second thing I wanted to mention: Remember last year when I posted about that family who keeps squirting out crotch dropplings? Do you? Well, guess what. As both a godless heathen and as someone whose uterus cried 'Uncle!" after just one child, I'm perpetually horrified and fascinated by those folks.

I don't have a third thing, so in keeping with the random theme, I give you an LOLcat.




*Note: the winner will NOT get a Christmas Story Leg Lamp. If I had one, do you REALLY think I'd give it away?

I Didn't Know Barney Rubble Went Into Journalism...

I need a laugh (I'm fine, btw, just want a good chuckle) and this video always delivers. Have a good weekend, everyone.

Rutting Netflix

I'm in a weird area of my life right now. On the plus side, Harper is doing well, my mom is recovering nicely from surgery and my neighbors-THOSE neighbors-are moving as I type this. On the downside, due to my mom's surgery, the fact that my nephew still hasn't moved out and my dad becoming the laziest man alive since he retired, I have oodles of household responsibilities now. Which is to say I have to do EVERYTHING in the house.

They leave their trash everywhere, and I have to pick it up and take it out. Their laundry, I do it, in addition to mine and Harper's. I have to tend to the pets, all ELEVEN of them. Clean the kitchen, do the floors, scrub the funk out of the toilet, dust, listen to everyone bitch and moan and stand by and watch as my spoiled nephew reduces our front yard to something out of Tobacco Road. It's not so much the chore-type stuff, it's the little things. If you finish off an entire can of Pringles, throw the fucking can in the fucking trash. Is it THAT hard? Really? Jesus Christ. It's legally my house now, but when that happened, I didn't realize that meant everyone else here would suddenly not give a shit anymore. Mercy.

As a reward for my endless work, I've managed to acquire a new bedspread (This here) and a badly needed new pair of sneakers (Them there). They're nice and all, but somehow they don't quite alleviate all of my stress.

Used to, when I reached my breaking point, I'd watch a movie and it would make me feel better. But lately I've come to realize that I'm in a film rut. I get all these movies from Netflix and half the time I send them back unwatched. The other half, I do watch them and can't even pay attention. The last movie I watched and thoroughly enjoyed, believe it or not, was Enchanted. And that was only because Harper was watching it in my room, otherwise I wouldn't have made it through it. Honestly, aside from that I don't think I've watched an entire movie in months. I still watch TV, mainly Scrubs reruns and my recent obsession, Corner Gas (Goddamn you.)

As much as I enjoy those shows, not to mention an endless supply of cartoons, I miss watching movies. This is where YOU people come in.

I need recommendations. I don't care the genre (except love stories-that's a big DO NOT WANT there), just any movies you guys like a lot. One thing though, I don't want any shitty movies. I like schlock as much as the next nerd, but what I'm looking for is a movie that will rock my face off.

Translation: I don't want 'good-bad' I want 'good-GOOD'.

I don't think I've ever asked for this kind of advice on here before, so just be sports and indulge me. I'll even sweeten the deal for you: if I pick your recommendation and I like it, I'll give you something. I don't know what, but I'll do my best to make it something tangible. That's only if I like it, though; if it sucks, I'll hunt you down like a dog and make you watch David Hassellhoff's "Hooked on a Feeling" video until your eyes bleed.

Get cracking and don't let me down, people.

Gogol Bordello-'Start Wearing Purple'

This is stuck in my head hence, I'm posting it.

I'll try to get back to posting semi-regularly soon. Things are rather hectic for me right now, to put it mildly. Puppies, Harper's sick and my mom is having surgery tomorrow.

The good times are killing me.

Pups-n-Stuff

As I reported back at the beginning of February, my dogs Pepper and Patches became involved in a torrid affair. Patches was all of 6 months old at the time, while Pepper was around 4 and a half, which makes her a Beagle/Daschund/Cougar mix, apparently. Since Patches was so young, we hadn't had him fixed yet, as we were under the horribly mistaken illusion that he was too young to breed. We hadn't had Pepper fixed because up until that point, she hadn't been around any other males dogs for any length of time. We thought at one time she might be pregnant, but it turned out to be a false pregnancy, and not the last time, either.

Long story short: as of this writing, Patches' nads are a distant memory, and my bedroom is now a flophouse for 9 dogs: Pepper, Patches, Lily and Pepper's 6 puppies. They were born last Tuesday, and until yesterday, they along with Pepper were staying in Harper's room, which is also where they were born.

Pepper is a wonderful mother-for the first week, she didn't leave them except for very brief bathroom breaks. If anyone picked up one of the puppies, she'd flip her shit until they were returned to her side. Of course, a gal can only take so much and over the weekend, she decided that she missed being around her people, so I carted the whole bunch of them in here. Now she spends most of her time nursing, getting frequent belly rubs, begging for scraps and standing vigil against Lily and Patches. Lily and Patches have no ill will to the pups; aside from some curiousity, they don't pay much attention to them. But if they so much as darken Pepper's side of the room, she barks her head off.


I'm rambling a little, so I'll wrap it up. The reason I'm posting is because my sister came by today and took some pictures of the new family and I wanted to share them because they're just so darn cute I could plotz.


The proud Papa. He's grown quite a bit since the last time I posted about him:



Miss Thang:



Clockwise from left, Molly, Zach, Rory, Maggie, Gracie (middle) and Botwo:



Gracie and Rory:




Note Maggie, the chubby brown and white one in the middle. She's like that about 98% of the time:



I love this picture. The look on Pepper's face just says it all:

RIP

I ruminated a good while on whether to post about this or not. I wasn't exactly a fan of his, and I'll admit that some of that had to do with his politics: I don't have anything against guns but come ON. In the end I decided that anything bad I think about him can't stand up to This.

Or This.

Or OMFG THIS!

This was pretty good, too. Really underrated, sweet gem of a movie. So underrated that there's not even a trailer for it on YouTube. Seriously, it's really cute-if you ever find yourself in a sappy mood, check it out.

WASHINGTON (Reuters) - Actor Charlton Heston, whose chiseled features and commanding presence won him epic roles from Moses to Michelangelo, died on Saturday night at the age of 84, his family said.


The Oscar-winning Heston, a former president of the influential National Rifle Association lobbying group, died at his home in Beverly Hills with his wife Lydia at his side, the family said in a statement.

Heston had announced in 2002 that he was suffering symptoms of Alzheimer's disease.

"To his loving friends, colleagues and fans, we appreciate your heartfelt prayers and support. Charlton Heston was seen by the world as larger than life," the family said.

"No one could ask for a fuller life than his. No man could have given more to his family, to his profession, and to his country. In his own words, 'I have lived such a wonderful life! I've lived enough for two people'," the statement added.

The family said a private memorial service would be held.

In his heyday, Heston's rugged features and conservative lifestyle seemed to belong to another age. As director Anthony Mann said: "Put a toga on him and he looks perfect." Frank Sinatra once joked: "That guy Heston has to watch it. If he's not careful, he'll get actors a good name."...

Yahoo News

Happy Easter Everybody

RIP

Science-fiction writer Arthur C. Clarke, who co-wrote the epic film "2001: A Space Odyssey" and raised the idea of communications satellites in the 1940s, died Wednesday at age 90, an associate confirmed.

Clarke died early Wednesday at a hospital in Colombo, Sri Lanka, where he had lived since the 1950s, said Scott Chase, the secretary of the nonprofit Arthur C. Clarke Foundation.

"He had been taken to hospital in what we had hoped was one of the slings and arrows of being 90, but in this case it was his final visit," Chase said.

Clarke and director Stanley Kubrick shared an Academy Award nomination for best adapted screenplay for "2001."

The film grew out of Clarke's 1951 short story, "The Sentinel," about an alien artifact left on the moon.

CNN

Harper's Bizarre

I haven't done one of these in awhile. Used to when I would post these, I'd say a little something about any issues that Harper was having in her life at the time. Thankfully, there's really nothing to say right now. Things are fairly mellow for her lately-she even got her bike back (more on that in the comments on the post below.) She's still dealing with some of the same old issues, but things seem to be in somewhat of a holding pattern for now.

Translation: Things aren't great, but they ain't too bad either. At the very least, I don't have that worried, gnawing feeling in my stomach right this minute, so that's good enough for me.

The reason I haven't done one of these H.B. posts in several months is because she hasn't been pilfering through my CDs much. Well, she still does occasionally, but when she does, she seems to hone in on something embarrassing (you don't need to know that I have a CD that features the theme song to St. Elmo's Fire in my possession. And you don't need to know that my kid likes to listen to it. Yet here I am telling you about it. I fail.) Besides all that, she's got her own music to root through now, so I guess the allure of mommy's music is no match for the musical juggernaut that is Hannah Montana.

Except for this. She's been playing this one like crazy lately. I have to say, it's a joy to watch her when she listens to it: she bounces around like a ball, shakes her bootay and screams "SO WHAT!" at the top of her lungs. It makes me so proud, I can't even tell you.

Yes, Bruce, They Are Pricks

Harper is on Spring Break this week, and wouldn't you know it, it's rained every day except today. Fortunately it's extremely nice outside this afternoon-sunny, 75 degrees-perfect weather for her to go ride her bike. So a few hours ago, I granted her request to go out and she immediately comes back in and asks "Where's my bike?". I get up and go look and it's nowhere to be seen:some scum sucking, bilge biting rat-bastard stole it.

Who does this? It's an old, crappy bike, the seat cushion is totally gone, it's like sitting on a hemorrhoid generator. Hell, I hope whoever stole it DOES get a scorching case of 'roids, if not worse. Actually, I hope they get polyps and they become so constipated that sitting on the bike would be pure torture, in which case, I hope they have to ride it forever.

Sonofabitch.

Believe it or not, I'm not as enraged as I was when it first happened (if I was, I wouldn't be able to type, the whole post would look like this :"UGCDLHVFOUYR!!). Once my neck cooled off-my neck gets all hot when I get mad-this thing popped into my head. See, I can never get mad enough that I don't remember stupid shit I've seen on tv over the years. It's technically not the same thing, but it's related. If I wanted to be all specific, I'd have to post a review of the Bicycle Thief or something. It's just been so long ago that I saw that and I'm still KIND OF pissed, so I don't think this would be the best time to pontificate about a classic Italian film. As it is, I'm having a hard time following the Fairly Oddparents, which is on tv right now. I think Timmy's in the hospital or something, I dunno.

At least no one stole his bike.

I'd Feel Sorry for Her if I Liked Her

I looked at this photo of Patricia Heaton of 'Everybody Loves Raymond' fame for a solid 2 minutes, wondering why it gave me the creeps. After a close-up examination, the answer came to me like a shot. Can you figure out what's wrong with this woman picture?

The Crazy 88's Can Kiss My Patootie

Last night, due to some Ghostworld talk(haven't seen it? Do it. Now. Go, go, go!), I had a hankering to see a clip from the movie. In particular, the opening sequence where Enid (the delightful Thora Birch) is watching the 1965 Bollywood film Gumnaam. This clip is technically from Gumnaam and Thora Birch is nowhere to be seen in it, so there's really no need for me to mention Ghostworld, other than to use it as an excuse to get as many people to watch it as possible.

This song and the clip itself make me want to bounce off the walls like a wild woman. It's just so peppy and cool and campy that I can't take it, and for a lazy hag me, that's saying something.

By the by, if you've seen Kill Bill, this might seem a little familiar. I'm just speculating, but I'm thinking that Quentin Tarantino has seen Gumnaam at some point. Again, I'm just running this up the flagpole, but this scene brings to mind the fight sequence in KB between the Bride and the Crazy 88's. And once again, this is just my theory. Of course, I wouldn't say it if I wasn't right, but I have to put a disclaimer in there, regardless. Ahem.

Bill Withers-'Ain't No Sunshine'

Just because.

Enough Already

I really, really, REALLY don't like to get into politics or other similarly touchy topics on this blog, but this is driving me nuts and I have to say something.

There seems to be a proliferation of stories and opinions concerning the current democratic presidential race that say things like this:

""They're running to the rock star, to the momentum, to the excitement...And I am worried that if Hillary doesn't get elected, I am never going to see a woman president in my lifetime. I do think her chances are slipping away, and it [ticks] me off."

I'll say it right off: I'm a feminist. I was raised to believe that just because I'm female, it didn't necessarily make me weaker or less valuable a person than a man. I read stuff like Ms. Magazine while in my teens and it helped to form the-arguably-strong woman I am today. The thing is, while I read all of the feminist literature I could get my hands on, due to the common sense that was also instilled in me by my parents, I never had the notion that I deserved something just BECAUSE I was a woman.

My issue with comments like the above, is that in almost every article I've read like that, they never make a mention of Clinton's stand on any issues. Not her voting record, nothing except her gender, and they all have the tone of "we want a president with a vagina, it doesn't matter WHO it belongs to".

At first I thought that opinion was held mainly by the old-school 2nd Wave feminists, the ones who fought so hard for abortion rights and equality in the workplace that, along the way, some of them became slightly blind to reality. It comes down to a matter of age and experience in some ways. Or so I thought until Tina Fey's "Bitch is the new black" rant on Saturday Night Live last week:

“Women have come so far as feminists that they don’t feel obligated to vote for a candidate just because she’s a woman. Women today feel perfectly free to vote for whoever Oprah tells them to.”

Completely ignoring the asinine Oprah dig, I'm a little baffled that the first comment could possibly be used as an insult. I thought for sure she was being sarcastic-it's Tina Fey for god's sake, she makes a living doing comedy. But the consensus seems to be that she was for real, and if she is, she dropped quite bit in my esteem. No one with any sense should feel obligated to vote for someone JUST BECAUSE they're a woman, or JUST BECAUSE they're black, or white or for any other ultimately shallow reason. How many people voted George W. Bush into office because he was the one they'd "rather have a beer with"?

Am I going to vote for Hillary Clinton? No. Is it because she's a woman? No. Do I want a woman president someday? Absolutely, if she's qualified. Do I think there are people out there that won't vote for her because she is? Of course I do, and those people are idiots, but equally idiotic are the ones who'd vote FOR her based only on that reason. I don't truly believe that Tina Fey or any of the others are voting for her based on the gender issue alone, but when they focus on that and ignore everything else they lose credibility and so does their candidate, and really, anyone else who would vote for her based on politics does as well.

I guess my point with all of this is that, this is the highest office a person in this country can hold. As we've learned this last go-round, they can make some life changing decisions for the rest of us, whether we like it or not. So for our own sakes, we have GOT to ignore the outer trappings of the candidates and focus on what they stand for, or we could very possibly be in some deep doo-doo in the next 4 years. So if you want to vote for Hillary Clinton, fine, that's your call. But if you do, make sure you do it for the right reasons. 'K?

It's Official: I'm a Mutant

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.