Tag Archives: Girl Talk

Strange Overtones

It’s Tuesday again. It was like this last week and the week before that and it goes on further and further from here. Last night was Monday night, Bill and I watched Keith Olbermann who had some righteous indignation towards John McCrazy. Bill got very much into it, not going ghetto but politicized in a way. Then some Olympics then he was off to bed.

I’ve been playing DJ during the commercial breaks, going from roots reggae to the Stones to The Coasters to who knows where, finishing up with Les Paul and Mary Ford singing How High The Moon. Still sounds amazing over 50 years later, miles away from Mahwah where I believe Les Paul still resides.

Right now my computer is pissing me off. Very slow. I’ve been trying to burn some cd’s for Annemarie’s birthday but it’s been impossible. Keep getting some stupid code error. Pisses me off. Had to resort to plan B. Oh I am getting upset.

Presently running some spyware which is doing what it’s supposed to do I hope. More than anything the inability to burn cd’s is definitely pissing me off. I will have to work on that and send Annemarie the cd’s at a later date.

It’s a nice night for sure. Bill called to tell me that Rachel Maddow is getting her own show following Keith Olbermann. I’d like to think that the head of programming reads my blog but I doubt it.

Still no Casey in the morning. Maybe I’ve been leaving earlier, or he’s leaving later or on vacation. I remembered to bring something to read and of course, it’s Alan Bennett. Two short stories, The Clothes They Stood Up In and The Lady In The Van. The first story is funny, in a subtle English. I chuckled a few times reading it on the way in.

So far, a married couple have come back from seeing Cosi Fan Tutti and find their home has been burglarized with everything gone. Furniture, beds, phone, stove, every thing. The husband is a solicitor and the wife is a house wife.

They’ve lived a very sheltered life. No kids, no neighbors, no friends really. And they don’t interact with anyone in their town, in fact when he goes to use a pay phone at the laundromat, it was the first time he had ever been to one.

Of course there’s a lot more than that and I do Alan Bennett no justice in trying to describe his writing. So I’ll stop there. My copy is from Ramsey courtesy of the BBCLS, the cooperative system that Hoboken is a part of.

I am taking Juan to Girl Talk for his birthday in November. That promises to be a real good time. And next month is My Bloody Valentine as well as the B-52’s playing a free show by Kean University in Union, NJ September 6..

Here’s a thought I felt I should write down last night. Some straight people don’t want gay people around kids. The ‘official’ line is the skewed pedophilia fear, despite the fact that most reported pedophiles are straight men.

But perhaps on a deeper, unconscious level it’s fear of gaydar. The unspoken knowing that someone else is gay. It’s there, I have it. It’s defective but it works. Even a broken clock is right twice a day.

I think that some straight people are afraid of the gaydar coming from a child and picking up the vibe that that certain adult is different from what the child has come into contact with, and might identify more with the gay person rather than the straight people they might have been accustomed to.

What do you think of that? Comments please.

I Got The News

Busy Busy, that’s me. It’s been great having Bill back here in Hoboken and of course he’s been driving me crazy. Good crazy though. I missed his talking to the tv, his wonderful laughter and the little things we do together. There are other things that drive me crazy but I’m not getting into them since they’re such old pet peeves, I just don’t want to open that can of worms and come off like a nag.

We watched Keith Olbermann again, Bill’s turning into quite the fan of Olbermann then watched Daily Show and the Colbert Report and then at 10:00 Bill went to bed. I wound up watching some documentary on The Who, which was ok. Roger Daltrey definitely doesn’t have the voice he used to have and Pete Townshend certainly doesn’t jump around anymore, but still does the windmill guitar bit from time to time.

That killed an hour, then it was the local news. I was surprised that hardly any news outlets reported on the Knoxville shootings. I mean, it’s a juicy story what with the killer having Michael Oso Savage, Sean Halfwitty and Bill O’Screechy on his bookshelf. Books that advocate the end of liberals.

I’m surprised Ann C***ure was not included since she wished that Timothy McVeigh (another wad who took his cues from the reich wing) would blow up the New York Times building.

So much for the liberal media. Of course there is no liberal media since it’s owned by multi-national conglomerates.

My sock puppets were active online today. Last Friday in Times Square, the organization, Critical Mass had their last Friday of the month bike ride, effectively taking over the streets with bicycles. It pisses off drivers and the police and occasionally pedestrians.

Last Friday as hundreds of cyclists pedaled through midtown, one police officer named Patrick Pogan singles out one cyclist and shoulder checks the rider, causing the rider to fall off his bike onto the curb and sidewalk. Officer Pogan claimed the rider tried to run him over, and resisted arrest as the cyclist lay there dazed.

10 years ago, this would have gone unreported, but now, there are cameras everywhere (say cheese!) and the cop has been taken off the streets and charged with perjury by filing a false police report since the incident has been caught on tape and shown on YouTube since then. My faithful sock puppets went to battle with various ‘NYPD could do no wrong’ types.

One of the puppets even sent an email to fat ol’ Andrea Peyser (former columnist of the year) of the NY Pest. She of course condemned the cyclist. I commended the former columnist of the year on being able to write 372 words on the subject. Actually it was more of congratulating her on her sausage fingers being able to hit the proper keys on the keyboard.

She writes 372 words about twice a week and pulls a six figure salary.
What is her technique? Does she swallow or does she spit?

In all fairness her colleague Steve Dunleavy who sleazed upon our shores in the 1970’s around the time of Son of Sam trying to link Jimi Hendrix songs like Hey Joe to the Son of Sam murders ala Manson and Helter Skelter by the Beatles. It didn’t work.

Dunleavy uses less words than Peyser and probably makes more money. But not for long since Dunleavy is said to be fading fast and about to shake off his mortal coil. A first class souse he is, usually found falling off a barstool at Langans on 47th Street. At least Jimmy Breslin gave up the drink and he’s a much better writer.

Tourists

Gurls on the go

Blowing bubbles

Three guys are called in court.
The first guy stands before the judge.
Judge: Why are you here?
Guy: I was in the park. Blowing bubbles.
Judge: Blowing bubbles in the park? Get out of here! Case dismissed. Next!

The second guy appears before the judge.
Judge: And why are you here?
Second Guy: I was in the park blowing bubbles.
Judge: What? Another guy in court for blowing bubbles? Case dismissed! Next!

The third guy appears before the judge.
Judge: And you? Why are you here? What’s your story?
Third Guy: I’m Bubbles.

Here’s a link to a quick chat with Greg Gillis aka Girl Talk

http://nymag.com/daily/entertainment/2008/07/girl_talks_greg_gillis_on_his.html