Somewhere between Bell's Palsy and death
Friday, July 18, 2008
Why can’t I be deep like this!??

I share with you now a quote from a commenter on Gawker re: a 20 year-old girl who goes to a party filled with a bunch of high-profile NYC bloggers and gets her idealist cherry popped:

The job of a writer is to write. He pastes together an experience out of language, like any other craftsman. The same as a plumber pastes together the water system of a house. If you think the purpose of asking questions and communicating experience is to get “answers” to “questions”, well you’re bound for a life of sore disappointment. Just ask about four thousand years of recorded philosophy and poetry what they think of the “answers” to great questions.

It is the job of a GOOD person to be honest. To be self-aware. To deliberately explore the fault lines of your character and try desperately to not inflict suffering in this strange, ghost-ridden world of worked and fabricated objects. Sometimes the jobs of WRITER and GOOD PERSON coincide. But more often they don’t. There are way more WRITERS in the world than there are GOOD PEOPLE.—Pope John Peeps II


Ladies, am I lying when I say that’s freakin’ HOT!??


Posted by Broad5:39 AM
Thursday, July 17, 2008
House cleaning and shizz

Wish I’d have thought to put on my failsafe feel-good tunage today, because I couldn’t for life of me get fired up about ANYTHING I was doing. Now it’s slightly ass o’clock in the morning and I got my wiggle on. I’ve also gotten into this really bad habit of eating well after normal people, and I have a feeling it’s going to make me look worse in the swimsuit I just bought (and yes, Girlie, it’s a real swimsuit) than I’m already anticipating. (Did y’all know Amazon sells other things besides books? I swear, it’s like a mini mall over there!) But! notice that I said “bought”—not only did I get my check early, but it was much bigger than I was expecting, so now with it being a three-check month and all, I’m going to be caught up on my bills for the first time in a couple months AND be able to buy stuff indiscriminately! Well Ok, not indiscriminately exactly, but at least I’ll be able to have some fun, ferchrissakes, especially seeing that next weekend is BUS DEMOLITION! weekend, complete with a Railcats hot-tub foray again. Anyone up for joining the festivities should hit me up for the deets.

Other things taking up space in my melon lately include the following:

-- Roger Ebert had a cool conversation going on his blog last week about the movies people can’t watch more than once because of the reactions they invoke. For him, it’s Wit, which makes sense because of the whole cancer thing; for me, it’s Marvin’s Room, but not because of the cancer but rather the pudding-headed father; and Requiem for a Dream because of its sheer brutality. And you? What movies kick you in the emotional wang?

-- My homie JB’s woman joined the pink slip club about a month or so ago, so she’s now taking on the herculean task of watching unemployment over at this joint: Lookit. She’s awesome, so check her out.

-- It’s been total Collegepalooza over here the past couple days; first Popdose throws up three of my favorite Tracy Chapman tunes EVER, taking me back to the summer before freshman year and Poppy and me singing and living our drama, then I end up in a town where I spent a lot of time being up to no good and seeing how much it’s grown and changed the last 20 years. Weird. As much as college was overall a big crapfest for me in many ways, though, at least these things made me smile. Actually, I kinda take it back that college was a crapfest, if only because I’m not living it anymore and can see how fun a lot of the shit was, even in its craptacularness.

-- Speaking of Popdose, if you’re not checking it out religiously, you should—tons of great writing and free music to be had.


Posted by Broad4:23 AM
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Y’all thought MY shots were cool!??

Feh. These are the ones Scott took while up there, including this one:

image
(©2008 Scott M. Bort, all rights reserved)

That’s what I was doing, y’all.

Anyway, the shots are gorgeous, so go check ‘em out.


Posted by Broad4:36 AM
Sunday, July 13, 2008
Flew with the Limas, lived to tell (but barely)

By now, many of you may or may not know what I did Friday morning. If not, lemme show you it in pictures:

image
My chariot awaited. You’ll notice in subsequent pics that
my plane is the only USAF plane, while the others are Navy.
That’s because, according to my pilot, Brian “Digger” McCann,
the plane’s owner was Air Force and flat-out refused to paint
“Navy" on the plane, even if the colors are in fact Navy.

image
My colleague and pal Scott Bort, getting the rundown
from his pilot, John “Ripper” Rippinger. The flotation device
is but one thing you get harnessed into on one of these flights.

image
Digger gets into his parachute and straps in for the ride.

image
Heading toward my deaththe runway

image
Aw yeah, there’s no turning back now.

image
This here’s the control panel in my part of the cockpit.
Didn’t need to know anything about it and didn’t want
to know, as it’s better that way for all involved.

image
Aaaaaaaand we’re up!

image
Ripper and Bort.

image
See those planes waaaaay over there? Yeah, we had
to catch up to them. There was speeding involved.

image
We caught up, natch, and here we are in formation. See?
It really is further apart than it looks from the ground.

image
Now it’s time to head over the lake, where Digger says
the ride is smoother. We’ll see about that.

image
Six planes up in (Lima Lima) formation. Over the lake.

image
Coming off the lake.

image
Back in formation off the lake. I know I’ve got a lot
of these shots, but I was fascinated by how the planes
looked like marionettes.

image
As I headed back to the airport for my second assignment
of the day, there were these ginormous billowy clouds
that would’ve been gorgeous to fly through. When
WE were up in the air, we got this. Not quite as exciting.

image
“If you’re gonna spew, spew into this!”

image
Back on land and Thunderbirds in the hizzzouse, y’all!

image
This is what happens when you try to convince people who’re
flight-challenged that there are going to be loop-de-loops
and spiraling dips. Right, Bort!??

image
That’s right—he had to pose with his barf
bag. And he would’ve made me do it if I’d
have tossed, so don’t be all, “Awww, poor
Scott.” It’s a hazard of the job.

image
The master and me, no worse for the wear. And no barf
bag.

This is not to say, however, that the ride was all smooth sailing for me, either; until you’re up there, you really have no idea how unbelievably hot it gets, and if you’re not properly hydrated (like I’m not most of the time), it’s going to hurt, and I spent the last five or so minutes of the flight concentrating on my breathing so I wouldn’t hyperventilate. And I now also understand the appeal of sticking your head out the window like a dog while driving—I’ve never been so happy to open a window as when Digger told me I could reopen the chamber.

So yeah, it’s an extremely cool thing to do if you ever have the chance to do it, no question, and the Limas couldn’t be a better bunch of guys to fly with. You won’t see ME doing it again—I thought doing something like this would cure my fear of moving heights, but no such luck—but I’m thrilled and grateful I had the chance to do it this once.


Posted by Broad12:38 AM
Wednesday, July 09, 2008
The advantages(?) of living in a red state

In today’s news (written by my homie, Piet):

By Piet Levy Post-Tribune
Staff writer

MERRILLVILLE—Some people strictly associate Planned Parenthood with abortion and a pro-choice agenda. So it may come as a surprise that the Planned Parenthood at 8645 Connecticut St. offers free services promoting adoption.

The Merrillville center is only the third Planned Parenthood in the state to feature on-site counselors from a local adoption agency, said Liz Carroll, vice president of patient services for Planned Parenthood of Indiana. Carroll said only a handful of centers across the country are offering such services.

“Our mission is to provide women with options, to give them information so they can make good decisions for themselves and their families,” Carroll said. “Having the adoption service available if they want to talk to somebody about it just seems to fit so well with our philosophy of providing women with choice.”

A Planned Parenthood clinic in Indianapolis was the first in the state to feature a partnership with an adoption agency, beginning in the summer of 2006. Carroll said two adoptions have been secured at that location thanks to the partnership.

Carroll said the staff at the Merrillville clinic was clamoring to follow in the Indianapolis clinic’s footsteps.

As a result, the Merrillville Planned Parenthood teamed up with The Adoption Center for Family Building in April, prompting the regional branch of the Skokie-based Center to move from Munster and relocate inside the actual clinic.

Carroll said the Merrillville clinic—one of the region’s largest and most visited, with both abortion and family planning facilities—had enough space to accommodate the Center’s staff.

She said the organization will keep an eye on the partnership’s success rate in Merrillville, and that Planned Parenthood in general would be open to such partnerships in the future, depending on individual relationships with adoption agencies and available space at clinics.

Tobi Ehrenpreis, the Center’s founder, said they have provided other Planned Parenthood clinics in the area with fliers and brochures, and are hoping to offer some outreach at local schools and organizations.

“I think the more people know about what’s available, the better,” Ehrenpreis said. “Adoption is one of the choices, a good one, for some people.”

Ehrenpreis said counselors can visit with Planned Parenthood patients on Wednesdays and Fridays between 10 a.m. and 3 p.m. Otherwise, women can make an appointment by calling 795-9900.

More information is at http://www.centerforfamily.org.

Contact Piet Levy at 648-3102 or plevy@post-trib.com. Comment atwww.post-trib.com.



You’d think as an adoptee I’d be all about this, and I’m not not about it, I guess, but. I mean, why now when this partnership could’ve been conceived (hah! pun) from the very start of PP? Is this something PP has to do to keep whatever paltry funding it gets? Is it a countrywide trend? And there’s a zillion different adoption agencies out there, so why would PP want to get into the fray?

Again, it’s not that it’s a bad idea at all—PP needs to continue to be the leader in reproductive services, and that means ALL services. I ... just have questions.

As is the rule, tread lightly if you’re going to comment.


[EDITED TO ADD: Check it out, y’all! Jez picked up my tip: Lookit! And it was even written by Moe! Cool beans!]
Posted by Broad2:19 PM
Saturday, July 05, 2008
Figure THIS one out

If you had a dream where

a) you lose three molars in the span of, like, five minutes;
b) you try to go out to dinner with your dad and a friend but y’all don’t end up eating after you tell your dad you’ll skip your final semester of college and work a ton of jobs to pay your half of the dentist bill if he’ll pay the other half;
c) you end up leaving your car to get fixed at a shop in a bad neighborhood;
d) after you somehow manage to snag a late appointment with your dentist, a verbal spar with two old ladies who cracked on your weight in the crowded dentist office results in a topless chick, and then the cops come;
e) your dentist, who’s cranky at having to work so late, says your lifestyle is the reason for your teeth loss and uses the two more molars you lost while waiting as examples (recognizing that he’s had a hard day, you end up asking him if he’d like you to schedule a second appointment to talk about solutions, to which he gratefully accepts);
f) you contemplate calling your parents for a ride home from the office because it’s dark out, but then you run into your downstairs neighbor, who’s got a date with another dentist in the practice, and you end up getting set up with semi-dorky other suitor hitting on her;
g) as the four of you are driving back to the restaurant at which you were going to eat in the first place, a number from the skeevy neighborhood where you left your car comes up on your phone;
h) when you answer it, the guy on the other end won’t identify himself, which freaks the shit out of you, but he ends up telling you your car and others in the area have been vandalized by guys seeking tranny sex; and
i) you end up mackin’ on the semi-dorky guy after he was nice to you, and when he whips out Magnums you ask him how he feels about per10d sex;

what would you suspect was going on?

Despite all the significant dream elements (losing teeth, nekkidness, not finishing school, Dad, etc.) it wasn’t a nightmare at all. But it might be proof that Poppy’s baked beans shouldn’t be eaten before sleepy time.

[EDITED TO ADD: Girlie, you were the friend in the dream.]


Posted by Broad2:16 PM
Thursday, July 03, 2008
It got so hot in here (I took off all my clothes)

And I’m sure there’s still a bit of wang emanating from my person, too, but you know what? The rain washed away the heat, and now my windows are wide open with a cool, cool breeze.

Going to see Cracker tonight at NWI’s “premiere rock festival,” but not before hitting T’s for some of her town’s twilight parade. Has the potential for interesting. We’ll see.


Posted by Broad6:50 PM
Monday, June 30, 2008
It was only a matter of time*

So, have y’all heard about Private First Class LaVena Johnson? The Army claims Johnson, an African-American woman, killed herself in Iraq 3 years ago, even in the face of the following:

Private LaVena Johnson’s nose was broken, teeth were loose, one eye was concave and there were abrasions over her body. The supposed M-16 hole to the head was far too small for the revolver-sized exit wound, and was on the wrong side of her skull for a right-handed woman to have pulled the trigger. Her genital area showed evidence of acid, perhaps used to destroy DNA evidence. She had white military gloves glued to her burned hands.



Wow. If killing herself was the goal, that’s an awful lot of self infliction to go through when there are a lot more efficient ways to get the job done, one would think.

What the Army didn’t take under consideration is that Pvt. Johnson’s dad is A DOCTOR and therefore wasn’t fooled by the whole “It was self-inflicted” horseshitpronouncement the Army gave his wife and him, and he of course has been trying to get the investigation reopened. Unfortunately, it’s taken THREE YEARS so far. Let’s hope with all the publicity it’s now going to be getting, our Congressional monkeys will do something about it. After all, they did finally straighten out the Pat Tillman debacle, right? Fair’s fair.



[*Yeah yeah yeah, I know what I said about talking politics; as far as I’m concerned, this has more to do with psychopaths running the nut hut than who put them there. Nevertheless, one word about which party’s responsible or that this an attention ploy by the family, and your comment gets deleted. In fact, I came thisclose to closing comments on this post altogether, so if I have to do it early, I will.]
Posted by Broad4:41 PM
Sunday, June 29, 2008
Not leaving on my account, are you?

Though I suppose I wouldn’t blame my downstairs neighbor for taking off, seeing that I opened my windows and just added THE FREAKING SMITHS to my iPod. Yeah, I don’t know either because I normally can’t stand Morrissey and his haughty, insipid being-British shtick. But if she’da just waited, “Dance Hall Days” by Wang Chung was next in the lineup (followed by Fugazi’s “Smallpox Champion,” which I don’t picture her trucking with— oh, but here’s Bobby Brown’s “Every Little Step.” It’s even an extended remix, I think).

Fun fact: I can now pull my hair back into two teeny little hipster ponies, which’ll be perfect for when it’s hot and gross out again.


Posted by Broad7:50 PM
Friday, June 27, 2008
Swimsuit shopping (See: God’s cruel, cruel joke)

So my seester and her fam have rented a beach house next week for the High Holiday, and she invited me to come out and hang with her and the spawn. “Awesome,” I said. “I’m not a big swimmer (especially when not surrounded by vinyl or concrete), but it’ll be fun to watch the spawn frolic among the waves and sand, and maybe we’ll grill out and shit.” My seester, however, reminded me of how big a dork I would look like trying to get sun in a pair of capris and a tie-dye, so it was somewhat decided that I should have a new swimsuit. Ok, like I said, I’m not a good swimmer, and I’ve mentioned here before that when the genes were parsed among my sibs and me, I, as the only full-blooded Eastern European, got the sallow-yellow-doesn’t-tan-for-crap gene (I take that back—I’m pretty sure the youngest doesn’t tan, either, but she’s not sallow yellow, so if/when SHE stays out of the sun, it looks like she’s supposed to, whereas *I* look like a ‘net porn addict who rarely experiences daylight). Therefore, I’m NOT going to pay a lot for this swimsuit, so I decided to hit Kohl’s—you know, decently made, mid-range stuff that’s on hella sale this week. Got to Kohl’s around 11:30-ish and proceeded to find three tankini tops, two bottoms and one full tankini in what I figure my size is around.

Now when I hit the dressing room, I knew right off the bat the bottom half was going to be a trainwreck. I mean, let’s face it: I’m 5’3 with squatty legs, I’ve gained 50+ since the LAST time I shopped for a swimsuit and there’s that thing about my ass being flat. Heidi I’m not, and I’ve reached that point where I can deal with the fact that short of starving myself, I’ll never hit my high school weight again. But y’all, why they gotta make my cans look flat? I mean, there were cups where the tatters go—in the right places, even—but they were purely decoration, because ain’t no WAY a chick my size was going to look hot in any of the three I tried on. Not even store-bought t*ts could’ve held up under the mockingly blatant non-support. And it’s not like I want people being all like, “Guh, look at the rack on THAT one!” but dammit, there has to be something better out there for chicks like me who don’t want to spend a shit-ton of money on something I might wear once or twice a season. Jeez.


Posted by Broad2:20 AM
Sunday, June 22, 2008
The weedlee: There’s just no substitute.

Last night found the crew and me at yet aNOTHER gig with our boys, this time on the way sout’ side of Chicahga at a bar to which I’d never been and Girlie hadn’t been since, like, 1994. It was remodeled, sure, but you know the phrases “Throwing 300 pounds of shit into a Gucci bag is still 300 pounds of shit,” and “This is the place where people go to die?” Y’all, my D-list celebrity BFFs have chosen the wrong market in which to ply their trade, because these were some of the saddest looking m’erf’ers I’ve encountered in a looooooong time. And—AND!—they have absolutely NO taste in music. The opening act, which I will cleverly disguise their real name as “Crotch Louse,” was this blues-metal-country fusion mess that tried to evoke, I don’t know, the Butthole Surfers, maybe? Girlie thinks they thought they were being unique, what with the lead singer using that distortion thingy that singers use to sound like they’re far away and all, but dude, seriously. All that came out was only slightly impressive guitar playing at times, and the drummer didn’t completely suck. Oh, and there were at least two songs about butt secks, because we could understand THOSE lyrics clearly. And then when Steepwater took the stage, every time Jeff whipped out the weedlee and other hot tricks, a-holes were WALKING OUT OF THE BAR! What a nightmare. The mood was all off; even the boys knew it was bad and cut the set by two tunes.

So we entertained ourselves, as we always do. Some choice quotes from the night --

“Ok, Mr. Anthrax. Wrong music for thrashing!”

“Country metal?”
CountryCRAP metal?”

“Don’t forget ‘DENIAL.’”

“If you can work a digital camera, then you could put your teeth in.”

“I don’t know WHAT it is, but if he’s going to play like that again, I might have to pick smoking back up.”

“Yeah!  Go back to your nerd kingdom up front; the cool girls don’t want you back here!”


Posted by Broad10:32 PM
Saturday, June 21, 2008
More bacon than the pan can handle

Last night Girlie and I trekked on up to Martyr’s in Chicago to catch this band called 27 Jennifers. Maybe you’ve heard of them:

image

This is ubergroovy bassist Andrew Livingston, who used to provide the bassline with his big ol’ cello before Homeland Security made it an asspain to travel with such an instrument. He’s a pretty popular musician, but perhaps you know his band leader:


Posted by Broad1:09 AM
Tuesday, June 17, 2008
Like the comment said, cyberphoto terrorism at its best

Girlie’s slacking on sending me the Saturday night pics (which are magnificent acts of cyberphoto terrorism in and of themselves and you will DIE when you see them finally), so bide your time sorting through THESE beauties: Lookit. Many thanks to ButterCup Trix for this bit of 12 year-old boy humor that had me tearing up with laughter but a few minutes ago.


Posted by Broad3:02 AM
Saturday, June 14, 2008
(yawn)

I know, I know, I’ve been neglecting my duties. I guess I’ve just been feeling PRIVATE lately and not wanting to share my innermost goings-on, like having a sit or critically deconstructing the merits of “It’s Complicated” or my oldest sticking his butt in my face for the millionth time in a day (but not before he delicately kisses my hand). It’s all so personal, and I just don’t want to feel so JUDGED all the time.

(snerk)

I’m being an ass. Sorry. Sort of.

Life’s still pretty quiet around these here parts, though; outside of the magnificent weather last weekend that I DIDN’T GET TO SEE (dammit), just been working a lot and looking forward to next month, when all the cool things happen (hint: BUS DEMOLITION!). But tonight’s Girlie’s birthday party, and since we’re going to see Metalicious, she’s making us dress all 80s stylee. Lemme tell you, my ensemble is SICK with authenticity, and they’re going to DIE when they see it. You will, too, because I’m sure pictures will be posted.


Posted by Broad6:22 PM
Saturday, June 07, 2008
In case you were wondering what’s on the upper DISH channels

and because we’re nothing if not service-y over here at Chez Broad, there’s Classic Tractors, Training Mules and Donkeys, Big Joe Polka Show, Forge and Anvil, Animal Makeover TV, Cowboy Flavor (now now, it’s a cooking show) and Making it Grow (whatever that means). And all of this high-brow fare is kicked off by Imus in the Morning, of all things. Oh, and you can get a 10-carat yellow sapphire and diamond ring for the low, low price of $30,500 and an Air Climber and a laptop on the Shop Latino network (because like Girlie says, them Latinos sure do like their gadgets).

We’re indulging in a quiet weekend over here—Girlie’s over here laughing hysterically at the Gem Network, where they have a “treasure chest mix” for $199.99 ("It’s rocks around the clock!") and I keep trying to yank my hair back into ponytail. It’s much more sedate than last weekend, when I broke into a rather, um, spirited performance (or, as Girlie calls it, a “cry for help") when these three skanky bar whores walked into the G-Town after our boyz played a blisteringly good show. Sorry, but grinding up on each other after last call at G-Town is NOT APPROPRIATE. No. It isn’t. That behavior is more appropriate at the Serbian bar a town over.


Posted by Broad3:04 AM
Page 6 of 87 pages « First  <  4 5 6 7 8 >  Last »
It is the job of a good person to be honest. To be self-aware. To deliberately explore the fault lines of your character and try desperately to not inflict suffering in this strange, ghost-ridden world of worked and fabricated objects. Sometimes the jobs of writer and good person coincide. But more often they don’t. There are way more writers in the world than there are good people.

100 things
Info meme #1
Typelogic says I'm an INFP.
Check my weekly astrological groove here.

Give it to me, baby.

Pssst ... My birthday's Feb. 3, and I want this, and this, and this ...


The Make-Believe Oral Cancer Foundation (M-BOCF) is now accepting donations on my behalf. Won't you please help those of us who jump to hideous conclusions regarding our oral health and help me get a root canal or two!??:



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Broad said: Like I said, my feelings are complicated on the matter, so ... I’m interested, however, in Her Highness’ thoughts on… ...[go].

Caterina said: ARGH!!! Not to deny you your goddess-given right of reflections and wishing what might-have-beens, but this guy was straight up… ...[go].

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This explains that large bit of type at the top.

Tagline by Ben F'in Mollin, talking about those times you wake up still drunk from the night before.

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