I’m back briefly because I’ve been trying to figure out how to get people to post relevant comments to my blog. I’ve decided that I will give out the Marcus Award to each relevant comment. When a person has accumulated a certain number of Marcus Awards, the number has yet to be determined, I will send the person an item from the Bar Store at CafePress. The item has yet to be determined also. So tell your friends. Read and make relevant comments. I may even give out some Marcus Awards if I can tell you brought new readers to my blog. Start earning those Marcuses! After all, no one is as cute as Marcus. Heh heh.
Getting an email, even an automated one, shouldn’t be so damned exciting as to make me go instantly to a website to see a video. But the one I got about Andrei Andrei’s new video on his blog sent me instantly racing to see it. Feeding my obsession can sometimes be damned rewarding, but this one was a little disappointing. Now, I do have to say that the music was better in this video than the last one. However, there is much less of Andrei, which was the disappointment. It’s got some startling imagery, but still, visually speaking, the first music video was better because there was so much more Andrei. The weird thing about both of these videos is that I have no clue what language either of them is in.
Americans are so arrogant, you know. Especially about music. If musicians aren’t singing in English, we don’t even consider them a viable talent. The second video, the one shot in a museum in Romania, that woman can sing. I like her voice. The first video, the one shot in Lebanon, that music and singer sucks ass. It could be the style of music that turns me off rather than the singer herself, but I just didn’t like it.
One would think, having been classically trained and having sung in French, German, Italian, Spanish, and Latin, as well as English, that I wouldn’t be as arrogant as most Americans. I am. I admit it. I have blinders on just like a lot of other people. Okay, maybe my blinders aren’t as big as other people’s. I like Shakira. I like Andrea Bocelli. I like Leslie Feist. Shakira sings in Spanish, Andrea in Italian, and Feist in French. None of them are Jim Morrison, but hey, I like ’em!
So, yeah, The End has still been playing in my head. That and Nikki Sixx’s Heroin Diaries. Both deal with death so I guess you could say the whole Heath Ledger tragedy is still in the back of my head. The thing I keep wondering is how it would feel to be Naomi Watts. I mean, the woman was with him for years, longer than Michelle Williams was, even though they didn’t have a kid together. (Naomi had one with Liev Schreiber after she and Heath broke up.) I can’t imagine how devastated she must feel. You’re with someone for a long time but things don’t work out… Doesn’t mean a part of you doesn’t still love him, will always love him… Yeah, Naomi Watts is the one I feel for. They always appeared very devoted to one another in public so I imagine her grief is astounding.
To get back to the more happy and amusing things in life, here is a shout out to my bitch Shiny who is having a birthday today. May you be as big a goat girl at 90 as you are today! Luvs ya baby! MUAH!
That’s it for today folks. Laters!
The Video Shot in Romania
The Video Shot in Lebanon
Ever since I heard about Heath Ledger’s death the Doors song has been playing in my head. I had some other ideas for my next blog post but I kinda don’t feel like being amusing now. When you work in a mortuary you hear a lot of different stories about how people died. We’ve had everything from car accident victims to people shot by the cops to suicides, murders, freak accidents, and many natural deaths. When the contract on my desk is for someone younger than me, especially children or parents of small children, I feel horrible for those families.
My industry is a service industry where the first thing we do when someone walks in the door is offer comfort. We learn to be calm in the face of others’ pain. I have to admit that even working where I do, where you’ve either seen or heard everything, I was totally shocked by Heath’s death. An accident maybe I could understand but his manner of death is shocking. Knowing how this stuff works though, I’m not going to speculate how he died. I’ve heard so many people already talking about how he died of an overdose. I’m sure if he did, it was an accident. But then there was talk of him suffering from pneumonia. Well, I’ve had pneumonia enough times to know that it can kill you when you don’t even look that ill to others. And certainly, we get a lot of people at the mortuary every winter who have died from pneumonia or the flu. Funny to think that in this day and age, with the things they can do medically, that pneumonia can kill. But it does. Every day.
In the Bar Story, I have a character named Macaire whose story is just ramping up. He’s enigmatic and is supposed to be a good guy, an angel. But he’s a rogue, bent on revenge, so he’s not coming across as a good guy. He has secrets that are revealed at the end of this storyline and when all is revealed and resolved, I was going to redeem him and try to find him a mate. Since Macaire’s physical representation is Heath Ledger, I’ve decided that at the end of his storyline, he will make peace with Nyx and with his fellow angels and ask Marius the Archangel, to send him to the Afterlife. I would rather end his story on a bittersweet peaceful note now that this has happened. I just don’t think I can continue to write Macaire when I have to visualize Heath’s face as the character.
It’s also rather odd that I decided recently to ramp Macaire’s story up so that I could complete it soon. Foreshadowing in a way I hadn’t expected I guess. Macaire’s story is one of the more original ones I’ve come up with recently so I was very excited to work on it. My enthusiasm is a little deflated now but the show must go on. I’ll be sad to see Macaire go. I am sad that Heath Ledger has.
Next time I may talk about the email notification I got that Andrei Andrei had posted a new video on his blog. Woot!
I love Trotter. He always makes me laugh. In a different way than Irish because, God and the sim knows, they have completely different styles of humor. Trotter is a friend from the horse racing sim game I play. Trot’s wise with a dry sense of humor and a frank appreciation for women. I whined in the sim chat that no one was commenting on my blog. Trot says, “Where’s the pics?” We all thought the same thing… Trot wanted nekkid women which reminds me of pornfest. So I decided I would talk about Trotter today. Trotter, the sim, and pornfest.
Pornfest is a creation of my S.O. Rott. Rott hooked up all the TVs in the condo to a porn feed from his DVD player. You can see porn in virtually every room in the house – he calls it Pornfest. Of course, when my kid was younger he could only do Pornfest when she went to her dad’s for the weekend or when we were gone for the day at work and school.
I used to tell the story of Pornfest in the sim chat room and most of the guys were complimentary. I mean, c’mon… what man isn’t into porn? The only ones I’ve ever met who didn’t like it were the holy rollers. And they prolly did too but just wouldn’t admit it. Just because you believe in God or Jesus doesn’t mean you can’t get turned on by people having sex.
Trotter is unabashedly male. I can smell the testosterone through the computer, I swear. He’s low key about it… not like Vett and his Girls Gone Wild attitude. No, Trotter is suave and uses his dry humor to advantage. I always think of him as the James Bond of the sim. Shaken, not stirred. Although I suppose in Trot’s case he’s stirred, not shaken! LOL So if Trot’s Bond, I guess that makes Irish Felix Leiter. Felix is the CIA agent who is Bond’s pal. He’s the Jerry Lewis to Trot’s Dean Martin. They are both hot as hell to the sim females although some of them refuse to admit it and prefer to hit on Greg. Heh.
Greg’s charm not withstanding, all the women seem to acknowledge Trot as the man about town (and the sim) that he is. I don’t think I’ve ever seen one disagree with him in the sim chat. Unless we’re talking sires and breeding. EVERYONE disagrees about THAT. It’s the universal cause of discord because no two people agree on breeding except the Super guys from Del Penn. I’ve never seen such fighting as the simmers do over breeding fake horses. Breed this one over. No, don’t. This is a good breeding. No, it’s not. Dixie Union is a good sire. I’ve never had the urge to use him. And on and on. I know, if you’re reading this and you’re not from the sim you’re going WTF is she yammering about?
The people from the sim are as fierce about it as others are about porn. Some people can’t live without at least a little porn entertainment in their lives. The simmers can’t live without their fake horses and the whole sim lifestyle of breeding and training and betting. Okay, some of the simmers can’t live without porn either. Like Trotter insinuating that he wouldn’t comment on my blog unless I posted pics… meaning naked ones. Maybe I’ll post a naked Kelly Monaco just for him this week. LOL
I guess we all have our obsessions. Mine is Marcus. Ok, and the sim. *sigh* Okay, Pornfest too. You got me there. Now I’ve confessed to everything. Well, maybe not everything. Heh. Time for me to go. The hot grocery delivery guy is due here anytime with my food! Just another little obsession of mine… like the fake horses and pornfest. Only this obsession breathes. Heh Heh.
The monsters in my life invade everything. My day, my night, my absolute everything. You see, the monsters are 2 feral cats and an arrogant kitten. My boyfriend tamed some feral kittens and that’s how I ended up with Swirly and Dum Dum (aka Dummy)Feral Cat. Otherwise known as the Feral Brothers.
The boys are about a year old now and in the past two or three months have gotten bigger and filled out. Okay, Dummy has gotten bigger and filled out. Swirly is still a skinny little thing afraid of his own shadow. They are very loving especially Swirly who likes to sleep with me and burrows under my hand as I sleep so I’m touching him. Dummy, so named because he’s a “big dumb guy” is a little more independent and lackadaisical. That’s Swirly with the big scared eyes.
The first thing anyone notices about Dummy is that he is beautiful. Exceptionally so. I just can’t get over how he turned into a big thick muscular butterball from the tall lean kitten he was before. I mean, I thought he was done growing he was so big, but oh, no! Overnight he seems to have become a big ass tom cat!
Now, added to this mix of the Feral Brothers is my daughter’s kitten, Neko aka Neko Monster aka Miss Sparta. This kitten is an attention whore and she has more energy than both boys put together. She causes a LOT of trouble! The boys were comparatively mellow until she came. She is wired out of her skull! If you’ve ever seen the Mean Kitty Song about Little Sparta the Mean Kitty on You Tube then you have seen Neko in action. She is just like Sparta.
These three monsters invade everything I do. Eating, sleeping, reading, working on the computer. Whatever it is that I am doing one or all of them will invade and mess with me. Usually, Neko Monster is the ring leader. I wonder how I’m gonna survive. I can’t eat, sleep, or go to the bathroom without the monsters. They sleep on my head, my legs, my stomach, my hands. They curl up around my feet if I’m on the toilet or sitting at my desk. They grab my legs when I get things out of the refrigerator. (They especially like the whipped cream can.) My life is a walking nightmare thanks to them. But I’m stuck. They’re so cute and lovable. I hate them and I love them. They make me laugh and they make me want to use them to make a field goal.
So I yell and curse and throw things at them… and let them sleep on me and eat off my plate when I’m done. Then I hear them purr and I know I couldn’t ever do anything really mean to them. Well, at least until the next time I try to put on my work shoes only to find a dried up cat turd they’ve been playing hockey with.