Rotten Tanx wrote:

apl4eris wrote:

bumble wrote:

rachael wrote:Narnia is currently obsessed with popping the heads off dandelions with her thumb and forefinger.

My kind of girl! I did that when I was a kid. Get a couple of drinks in me and I may admit to still doing it.

If you were to still engage in this activity, would you happen to accompany it with the singsong "Mama had a baby and it's -snap- head popped off."

Not that I would revel in such a thing...anymore. nope.

Around here it was "miss polly had a dolly and her head popped off".

..and my buddy Otis Ball used to sing "Squeaky had a baby and her head popped off!" as part of his song "Charles Manson's Birthday":

It's Charles Manson's birthday, nobody's there.
I tried to have a party - does anyone care?
A bag of balloons,
A bucket of beer,
One funny hat --
Nobody's here (except me)

It's Charles Manson's birthday, so I sent a card
He doesn't have a lightbulb, but he can read it in the yard
What do you get
For a psychotic guy
Who's stuck in prison
And can't get high?

Ooh, maybe next year we'll advertise in a college paper
If a girl shows up, we won't rape her
We'll hide the knives; we'll hide the gun
I sure hope Charlie can still have fun!

It's Charles Manson's birthday, no-one bought a gift
If I were Charlie Manson, well I'd be pretty pissed!
None of the Beatles,
None of the Stones,
Sent him a letter
Or bothered to phone!

Squeaky had a baby and her head popped off!
Squeaky had a baby and her head popped off!
Squeaky had a baby and her head popped off!
Squeaky had a baby and her head popped off!


(I've always wondered whether it was Squeaky herself, or the presumably female baby whose head had popped off...)

for reasons which are not at all interesting, i found myself in a frozen bereft fishing port called 'peterhead' up in north east scotland.

while in the high street i came across an independent record store that was closing down. it was very minimal. it had a led zeppelin poster, some greenday badges and six (count 'em!), six cds. one of them was 'solid gold' by gang of four (great album but i have it on vinyl) and another was....

"IN THE WEST"

i actually shouted "FUCKIN' HELL!" and grabbed it to my heart in case it was some kind of trick. but lo and behold! it was real and i secured it's ownership for only eight english pounds sterling. now the only silkworm album i don't have is 'l'arje' but i already have those songs on the 'blind chicken...' comp so my desire is really only out of completism.

this year has actually tipped 2005 purely because of this find.

Background:

This last week has been a 'holiday week' for my family in that having recently-ish relocated to a new city, and having two very young children we decided that rather than going away on holiday we'd stay at home and have a succession of day-trips since we aren't hugely familiar with fun-things that are local to us.

As one might expect, our holiday began with my daughter coming-down with an extreme case of impetigo which she then passed to the rest of us. She could barely walk for pain until Tuesday, and has been extremely depressed (understandably).

Desperate to distract Beth from her pain and huge medicine intake, we set out on a number of trips to various places of beauty (for picnics) and the seaside over the course of that last few days.

End of background.

Yesterday we went (for the second time this week) to the beach ,this had proved a great success once already since Beth could happily build sandcastles while sitting in the shade, and even do a little paddling.

About 5 miles away from home (on the way to the sea) we get stuck behind a Winnebago driving at 40mph on a single-lane road. 30 minutes later we're still stuck behind this crawling retard.

*snap*

My temper is suddenly so lost that I can't even remember where I last saw it; I am leaning on the horn like an insane...horn-leaner.

We come to a red-light, I wait until the traffic-lights turn green then floor it round the outside of the Winnebago. Once I am past I stop, preventing the crawler from advancing and allowing a succession of similarly irate drivers to pass both us and the trapped campers.

When there are no more cars to allow past, I speed away.

I am spent. I feel good.

The End.

Right now, here at work, they are editing footage from a Jimmy Buffet concert that took place this weekend. The footage is of a guy with a lime-wedge hat, riding a segway with a Frozen Concotion Maker (Margaritaville brand blender) attached to it's front. Somehow these screaming middle-aged drunks and the idiot on a segway will be incorporated in an ad for Margaritaville's Frozen Concoction Maker.

I might lose my mind today.

I work at a public library. Yesterday afternoon, a young black man approached me at the Media Department reference desk and asked if we had any cd’s with an instrumental version of the Star-Spangled Banner. As he asked, a tiny spit bubble launched from his mouth. It floated softly in front of him for a moment and then slowly cascaded to a resting point on his left shoulder.

We both pretended that we did not notice this happen.

In anticipation of September, I'm busting out some "old-school!" posters for the damned cubicle, beginning with this one:



I learned that a co-worker had a heart transplant (!) this past weekend - this blows my mind, and is hard to even conceive, so far so good, and I hope he continues to recover nicely.

I'm 2/3 of the way through 'JPod' - waiting to see where the heck it's going (if anywhere)...

The video store near my house has two clerks who work there. The owner is bland and fine, but the clerks are excellent.

One watches Dirty Dancing. Not just sometimes - she watches this film constantly. Every time I open the door and hear "I've haaaaaaaaaaad the time of my liiiiiiiiiiiiiiifffe", I know who is working that night. Plus: she is goth with smudged red lipstick, heavy eyeliner and black everything. We have discussed the film Dirty Dancing at length.

The second girl is so disarmingly fun and lovely and nuts that I grin the minute I see her. She gets new tattoos very often. Two tattoos ago: a sparrow. Now, it is important to know that she chose a tattoo of a sparrow in homage to Johnny Depp's character in Pirates of the Caribbean. She really, really likes Johnny Depp. The newest tattoo: from the musical to The Vampire Lestat, "Lestat" on the inside of her wrist in a drippy blood font. She really, really loves Anne Rice's Vampire Chronicles. We talk about her love life, we talk about her online gay husband, we talk about her latest tattoo, we chat and run into each other on the street.

She is bonkers. She is fabulous. I have no idea what to do with her except to love her.

I was making a delivery to an old couple in a trailer park and found what I believe was their grandchildren (in their 30's) at their place instead. They informed me that both of the old couple were in the hospital, that she would be back eventually, but that he would probably be staying in a rest home for good.

Since I started delivering to them a little over a year ago, the old man has told me of his love for making tapes and how much he loves Glen Miller and Alan Jackson. He always tells me how Glen Miller went to school at CU Boulder and I tell him how Miller is from Fort Morgan, CO.

He made me an Alan Jackson Christmas tape and a various country Christmas tape featuring the likes of Roy Clark and Johnny Paycheck. I think he made me a big band mix as well.

A Mets fan, he tells me how he was at Shea Stadium when it opened, how excited he was, all the details. He made me a umpteenth generation tape of a special about the 1969 Mets that he taped off of the original broadcast.

His wife gave me pumpkin pie right before Thanksgiving.

When I told his grandson-in-law that I was very sorry, he shrugged and said, "Well, he's 87, she's 85". He didn't mean to be flippant, but it seemed so cold.

I was inspired by Cap'n and Rachel to seek some approval on-line. This happened right after I read about there marriage and the thread concerning. I filled out and completed a profile for The Onion personals. the day after my birthday I started writing and talking to a new friend. I've sent her some original writing and we made plans to see Calexico in later June. She bought tix and I've never bought an album, let alone listened to a song.

We've been communicating hello's by e-mails during the week and I e-mailed Electrical by accident with some goofy notice that I'm on-line. And then I e-mailed Electrical some lame excuse. Oops

--Absentmindeddougfnlee