Friday, December 21, 2012

A Newspaper Comment from Down Home in Savannah that Made Me Laugh

“Christmas is on Tuesday. See how many kids are outside. There won’t be any. They’ll all be inside playing those terrible video games and getting fat!”

Greer Lankton is my favorite artist.

If you don't know about Greer, you probably should. Her dolls are amazing. She was amazing. 

If you knew Greer, I would love to hear any stories about her. I am sort of obsessed with her right now, and any friend of Greer's, is a friend of mine. You can e-mail me at or leave your remembrances of Greer in the comments section of this blog. Thank you!

Links to Info on Greer

The problem is violence and weapons, so let's stockpile MORE of them!

This country is just nuts.

Friday, December 14, 2012

Justin Bieber's Testicles Aren't Worth $2,500 Each

Clearly he doesn't do anything with them. Maybe he can sell them and make some dough.

We adopted a homeless family here at the office for X-mas. $5,000 would really help those needy bitches out.

Don't tell Russell Brand I just said that.

If her network doesn't start doing better, she'll be inviting the cameras in to watch her take a shit soon.

John Mayer must have a REALLY BIG schlong.

He treats women like crap, and he has the weakest mouth EVER. Also, his music is lame as fuck. Put it this way, if his songs were paintings, I wouldn't line the damn cat's box with them.

I hope he is smart enough to hang on to Katy. She's WAY out of his league.

We LOVE Janice. She's our kind of crazy!

And a bitch hit PAY DIRT. Think how much money she'll save! Janice is engaged to a psycho-pharmacology expert. HOT DAMN. You go, girl!

But seriously, SB loves you, Janice. I wish you all the best.

             Wedding bells: Janice Dickinson showed off an engagement ring on Thursday while posing with her new fiance Dr. Robert Gerner 

Man, Only in America. . . .

I'm going to say this, and it's not going to be popular, but it's my blog, and I can say whatever the fuck I want. Only in America. With TOTAL sympathy to the victim's families, I say this: Live by the sword, die by the sword. America lives by the sword. If someone takes out a class of elementary school children, it could only happen here. John Lennon could only have been shot here too. Fucking sickening.

Tuesday, December 11, 2012

Nothing Human Remains, all right. That's exactly how I and a couple of Tom Cruise's ex-wives would describe him.

No, I did NOT write the Urban Outfitters X-mas ad. Those bitches stole my schtick though. Pay up, you bunch of thieving whorish motherfuckers!

For Ms. Moon, Who Asked My Fat Ass to Re-Post this Shit

Grandma Peg and the Humbel Nativity 

My Grandma Peg LOVED Christmas. LOVED IT. She was nearly giddy with the glee of the damn season (SB calls it the Season of Darkness, so obviously my ass did not take after her. Also, Grandma had really big boobs, and I didn't get those either.).

Anyhoo, Peg loved Hummel figurines, which she called, Humbels, due to a slight hearing problem. (Yeah, and Elvis was Alvin Prescott, as you'll possibly fucking remember from an earlier post, but whatever. . .).

Grandma's ass splurged one year and bought herself the ENTIRE fucking Humbel Nativity. That shit was quite costly, as there is no accounting for taste, and Precious Moments figures were expensive once, too, right? Hummels and the Precious Moments make SB want to gag and bust them up WITH A FUCKING HAMMER, but again, I digress.

Before I go further, I should explain that my tiny southern grandmother was known for her eccentric decorating taste (she even wallpapered the backs of doors), and frankly, she had some fucking weird ideas about what went together. Also, a lot of her house looked like a fucking French whore house, but to her, that was GRAND DECOR, motherfuckers. That shit was posh.

Anyhoo, after purchasing the damn nativity, Grandma decided that her precious fucking manger was not showy enough and that the Baby Jesus should be spotlighted like a Barrymore in a play. After all, his infantile ass was supposed to be holy and worshipped by the animals and the damn Wise Men. He was THE POINT. He was THE STAR.

Grandma rigged a fucking Maglite to the roof of the manger, and SB's brother, Steve, would not stop making remarks and laughing about it. "Jesus Christ, Grandma, the Baby Jesus is going to be blind. How will he perform miracles WHEN HE'S BLIND?"

After that, undaunted by my brother's mirth, Grandma decided that the Humbel nativity didn't come with enough lowing beasts, so she bought some ill-sized cheap porcelain add-on animal figures that looked like they might eat the poor blinded Baby Jesus and worshipping Wise Men.

Well, of course, Peg thought that shit was JUST GREAT! Her manger would be the envy of the neighbourhood! She was SO PROUD of that cocksucking nativity, it was unbelievable. It had pride of place in the living room.

Note: My Aunt M. has the infamous nativity now and displays it every year, replete with the damn Maglite, which my brother still has to make rude comments about.

Thursday, December 6, 2012

Thomas C. Wales Was a Good Man and He Deserves Justice


Yesterday afternoon, I read a very fine article at The New Yorker, written by Jeffrey Toobin and linked here:

I spent most of the evening in a disturbed state and simply could not get Thomas Wales and the justice denied him off my mind.

This morning, on the way out to the frost-covered car, a single question popped into my head.

Where are our Edgar R. Murrows?

If we can’t depend on our government agencies to do what they should, who do we turn to? I think spotlighting Mr. Wales’s case on a show like Murrow’s might get things stirred up and moving again. 

Where is our outrage that a decent man like Mr. Wales—a beloved father, a good neighbor and friend, and a man who served our country on a daily basis--has had no justice?

I’m not going to recount here the details of Tom Wales’s tragic death. I could not possibly add anything to Mr. Toobin’s well-written and well-researched article, linked above. But, as an American, I must say I am outraged that the perpetrator(s) is still out there. This is the word that keeps surfacing for me. I must ask: If the F.B.I. doesn’t work any more diligently than they have to capture the perpetrators of Mr. Wales’s assassination, then what sort of justice can I or my family expect as average citizens?

I also ask the F.B.I. and the Federal Government in general: Whatever happened to taking care of your own? Evidently, the pursuit of a murderer is dependent upon the popularity of the personal politics of the victim. As an American, I find that notion, quite simply, disgusting.

In a commencement address he gave, Tom Wales once wisely urged: "Be engaged; be involved in what goes on around you. Be present in your own life. Find something you believe in passionately and get into it. Get outraged. Take a stand."

I'm outraged all right. Movie, Mr. Clooney?

For more information on Thomas C. Wales and his life, please visit the Thomas C. Wales Foundation at