Somewhere between Bell's Palsy and death
Monday, November 15, 2004
Here she comes …
My assignment tonight? Covering the Miss Indiana USA pageant at the Radisson. Here's what I want to know: If Miss USA is all about diversity, how come everything reeked of downhome, Christian values and country music and all that, and does The Donald know about this? I mean, I'm not expecting anyone to play "Gett Off" by Prince or stripper music or anything, but this is NWI, not French Lick, and it made me a little ill seeing contestants of color having to shoehorn themsleves into this Southern pageant stereotype. And of course it seemed to be much worse this year than the previous two years I covered the event. Fuckin' Shrub. All I'm saying is, you can make something whitebread while catering to every denominator.

Meanwhile, it was a good weekend up in here. Visited Jill at Customs Saturday and ended up going with her fiance and her to a couple of gallery showings, one by this really talented young artist (from Hobart, even) on whom I could easily have a crush and another by this dude who does a lot with primary colors. But more important? Shiraz, shiraz, shiraz, babies. And it was FREE shiraz, so even better. So after three Lites on top of many glasses of Shiraz and two or three glasses of chardonnay back at Customs, Jill and John decided it would probably be best for me to crash at their crib, which Jill wants me to buy when they move in a year or two. It's a great crib, too -- big enough for me and the boys, and it's in Miller, which I've been dying to move to since forever. So of course now, all I can think of is color schemes.
Posted by Broad3:48 AM • (0) Trackbacks
Saturday, November 13, 2004
Is it wrong …
for a woman of a certain age (cough34 cough) to covet engaging in a May/December with the really hot Cinnabon rollista who, she's quite convinced, flirted with her last night at the mall? Even if he might be 16, 17-ish? That's legal, right? RIGHT!?!!?!?

Hey, Gabrielle's doing it ...
Posted by Broad4:29 PM • (0) Trackbacks
Friday, November 12, 2004
He done dood it
Just heard the jury read the verdict on the Scott Peterson case. Gave me the chills.
Posted by Broad7:15 PM • (0) Trackbacks
Thursday, November 11, 2004
Just another tricky day (or, yet another reason as to why I should never be a parent)
What a damn day, yo. And keep in mind that the following? Happened unmedicated.

It all started off with a few phone calls before a 10 a.m. meeting -- no big. But when I got home, I get a call from Mother, who's hysterical. See, she lives in a four-plex, and her downstairs neighbors? Batshit. crazy. Like, for example, when Mother moved in, BatshitCrazywoman told her that she's getting a huge worker's comp settlement from the railroad for an injury, but then in another conversation tells her that her BatshitCrazyhusband gave her the injury, PLEASE don't tell anyone. Oh, while she was borrowing $20 here and there to keep her household afloat. (Insurance PIs doing recon for railroad companies in the Chicagoland area? Give me a call.) Oh -- OH! -- nd let's not forget the time when BatshitCrazywoman, after Mother said she couldn't keep floating her $20 here and there, came up to Mother's crib with a paper bag and took back all the knick-knacky things she gave her upon moving in. And the few weeks last spring where someone was knocking on her door in the middle of the night, scaring the piss out of her. Anyway, yeah. Batshit. crazy.
Posted by Broad2:20 AM • (0) Trackbacks
Wednesday, November 10, 2004
Unmedicated
[Kaffy update: She called tonight -- Except for a kidney infection that just kinda came out of nowhere, her Dad's still doing better, and she and her boner-popping cat will start the long journey home tomorrow morning. Now, back to our regularly scheduled bitching.]

Ever since I started with the brain candy, I've read all these horror stories about the withdrawal: Allegedly, the headache you get is supposed to make your brain feel like it's sloshing about in your skull. I haven't reached that point yet, but I am getting these little pangs every so often. I sure wish my PAP meds (that's Patient Assistant Program -- you know, as in free meds for the poor because otherwise? I'd be paying about $120 a month for them) would get here already. No, I'm not ready to jump off a building or anything; in fact, I'm not even exceptionally agitated like I was the last time I didn't have them. I just want them to get here before it gets to where I'm buggin' out.

Speaking of bugging out, I've got another good story in the hopper. It'll be out on Friday, and of course, I'll post it.
Posted by Broad2:40 AM • (0) Trackbacks
Tuesday, November 09, 2004
Warren Beatty!?!? The hell!?!?!
This morning, I dreamt that some friends of mine and I (and honestly, I can't remember which friends they were) were in a clothing store in NYC named Lola Lempicka (she doesn't make clothes, does she?) and all the clothes were very teenlike and small. And then all of a sudden, the store owner, Warren Beatty, comes in and talks to us. Again? I don't get it.
Posted by Broad2:40 PM • (0) Trackbacks
Sunday, November 07, 2004
Funeral for a friend
Got a call from Kaffy last night, and she's going to be gone for awhile: After a series of TIAs, her dad had another massive stroke, this time on the side of his brain that wasn't decimated during the first one. Long story short, he's been given the "It's a matter of time" stamp of horror that no child ever wants to hear about their parent, and she was hurrying up to Memphis for the wait.

Although I've been through this, I got nothing that'll make this easier for her, so if y'all have something, please send it along. And if you don't, give her a shout o'love anyway, because she could sure use one right now.

Thanks, man.

[UPDATE: Kaffy sent us all an e-mail; it's after the jump.]
Posted by Broad11:25 PM • (0) Trackbacks
Saturday, November 06, 2004
Murder most foul
Good stuff going on over at Y's crib: The debate started as the Liberal/Conservative issue but has now turned into a discussion about partial birth abortion. Go there if you want some thought-provoking education.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch, a 35-week pregnant mother was found bludgeoned in her home this morning -- eight houses away from Greta's crib. Naturally, it's been ruled a homicide, but it doesn't seem to be indicative of a serial killer or anything. Funny thing was, the house isn't cordoned off with police tape, and the only way we found out that was the house was when Telemundo (the Spanish-speaking station) was in front of it when we were coming back from dinner.
Posted by Broad3:25 AM • (0) Trackbacks
Friday, November 05, 2004
Why, yes! Yes, I am
Modest, too.

I'm Pretty Darn Interesting!
I'm Pretty Darn Interesting!
Take Just How Interesting Are You? today!
Created with Rum and Monkey's Personality Test Generator.

You may not be the life of the party, but people generally find you a fun-loving font of interesting stories, jokes, and wit. With just a little more work, you could easily become the most interesting person you know!

[Courtesy of the lovely Amy]
Posted by Broad3:22 AM • (0) Trackbacks
Thursday, November 04, 2004
You got that right, pigfucker
This is what came out and voted yesterday: Lookit.

Pigfucker says at the end, "sometimes boobs have problems." Indeed -- especially when they learn code and start spewing on the Internet.

[Courtesy of Mac, who got it from Oliver Willis]
Posted by Broad8:55 PM • (0) Trackbacks
Wednesday, November 03, 2004
Want some candy …?
If you once again gaze over to the left there, you'll see a button (created by the lovely Zoot, btw) leading to the World's Finest Homemade English Toffee. Well, my aunt and uncle make that toffee -- by hand, even, with genuine. butter. -- and I've made it my duty to pimp them out. For real, it's damn good stuff, so I encourage y'all to go over there and buy it early and often.
Posted by Broad11:08 PM • (0) Trackbacks
The aftermath
Reporting election returns in NWI is rough business. Got there at 6, because I was told that most of the absentee ballots would be ready. The good news was, Lake County had an outstanding turnout, possibly the largest in years. The bad news? At 6, there was maybe 30 percent of that vote counted, so for 3 hours, I sat around dishing with a competition reporter (I may despise the competition, but I like quite a few of the people) as well as one of my local TV station friends, who's, like, the coolest person ever (plus she thinks I'm funny, something I always get a charge of).

And then the results started coming in, and no sooner would I spend 20 minutes on the phone with the lovely EA who did a fantastic job of plugging in the stats when I'd get the NEXT SET OF NUMBERS handed to me. That happened three different times before we finally stopped at 98 percent returned. (And before you say, "Why didn't you just fax the damn results?" -- no. Having been an EA in the Sports department -- yeah, I know, that's a thought, idn't it? -- it is a thousand times easier to have things read to you than it is reading them, even if I wanted to cry by the fourth set of stats.) But what I want to know? How is it that some precincts didn't turn in the cartridges on which the votes were cast!?!?! When we finally called it a night at 11:30 p.m. (the paper, not the election counters, who were there until the wee hours), there were still eight machines locked up in buildings, the cartridges not turned in to be counted. How does that fucking happen? Seriously. After spending 12 hours devoting your time to manning an election, how do you NOT TURN THE THINGS IN!?!? GAH!

As for the Shrub winning, I'm as stunned and saddened by it as anyone, but plenty of other people have articulated my thoughts for me to, too. I'm just glad that Pete Visclosky was reelected to the House.
Posted by Broad9:00 PM • (0) Trackbacks
Tuesday, November 02, 2004
A little means a lot
Yeah, yeah, yeah, of course I voted today, but unlike the other horror stories I've been reading, it took me about 10 minutes from start to finish. Sorry, yo. As punishment, I'll be manning the courthouse tonight, calling in results to the desk, and I've already been warned it's going to be a loooong night. Oh, and as an afterthought, the market didn't get over 10,224 yesterday, so if the legend's true? Kerry t'is.

Meanwhile, you know how I was going to cover the 10th anniversary of that plane crash Sunday? Following is a letter I received from one of the survivors:
Posted by Broad5:43 PM • (0) Trackbacks
It’s all psychobabble rap to me
Some of y'all that I talked to in private (ahem, Merryweather) will recall over the weekend that I said I was quite certain I wouldn't be hearing from the one guy over his birthday. And you know, I should never say things like that, because this morning at 4-ish in the a.m.? He called and said Opie would be dropping him off. Not thinking quickly enough (as it was 4-ish in the a.m. and I was fast asleep prior), I said all right, even though I knew he'd been with his other girlfriend at some point over the weekend. Of course, I bitched about that as well as bitched intermittently on the ride home this morning about various and sundry other things while he was feeling rotten. Oh, and I never really did say "Happy Birthday," either, so THERE. We take our victories where we can. Heh ...? (she says weakly, knowing that it was pathetic, yet really not so much caring). I do wish I'd thought of telling Opie to just crash on the couch before he was like halfway home, but we're hoping he made it home without getting run over by a semi. Oh, and did I mention Cousin Nancy was still here? She found it hilarious, and even better? She didn't narc me out to Crazy Aunt, who would've surely beaten my ass.

Anyway.

Since everyone else and their blogging brethren have talked about tomorrow, I'll throw in my two cents about why I hate Shrub -- in story formation.
Posted by Broad1:17 AM • (0) Trackbacks
Page 2 of 2 pages  <  1 2
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].

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