Somewhere between Bell's Palsy and death

Pee-pee Dance of Joy

Friday, October 28, 2005
How wrong is it
that on my hot, extra-badass new phone it was absolutely imperative that I download "Fart Symphony" as one of my ringtones?

Indeed, I AM a lemming who had to copy Snidgey and get the black Moto Razr. Have you held it in your hands? Pure cell phone hotness. And the ringtones they have under "Hard Rock?" Sublime. I think, as I redo my phonebook, I'm just going to have to assign various tunes to various people. Haven't worked it all out yet, but they have "Cult of Personality" by Living Colour, one of my all-time favorite bands EVER! And both "N.W.O" and "Just One Fix" by Ministry! And "Fantasy" by Aldo Nova! And "Superbeast" by Rob Zombie! (That would have to be Poppy's song, just because we saw Zombie at the Aragon three years ago, made up like death chicks and stoned out of our fool heads. I lost my fake nose ring that night, too, dammit.) Right now my ringtone is set to "E-Pro" by Beck, but I also have "Bark at the Moon" and "Cat Scratch Fever." And Fart Symphony. (Hint: It's not nearly as funny as I'd hoped.)

Speaking of new things, my new skin should be up any second, so watch for it.
Posted by Broad2:00 AM
Sunday, October 16, 2005
“Fuck off with that coffee song.”
[Tremendous brunettes at the Park West]

For those of you who believe that animals can tell who's cool and who isn't, it seems my boys have picked out my new boyfriend: Snidge's baby bro, who came up with her for the Mike Doughty show this weekend. As it happens usually, Rube is standoffish and glares like an insolent teen at everyone, while the Ween just hides, not to be seen unless running back under the bed after eating or using the can. But with Rlee? Rube was rubbing up against him like they were best pals, while Ween let him touch him. (Ween also nudged Snidge to pet her during the night, but he knows her well enough now.)

It was another stellar visit this weekend. The Snidge family got in about 10-ish Friday night, so what we do? Head to the land of the Hobartians so that Rlee could experience firsthand what Snidge has been telling him about for months. And it didn't fail to disappoint, either, as it never does: The people turning to stare at you as you walk in the bar because you're not indigenous to them thar parts; the near 6-hillbilly brawl out front of Rosie O'Grady's during heavy metal night; the teenagers walking around well after curfew; Benny coming up and calling me his "Irish Rose," also kissing me one too many times. Yep, all there. And he LOVED it. Also, he loved the Vodka and Red Bulls he was tossing back.

After a vile, greasy breakfast at the Flying J in Lake Station, we got back to the crib, where after a mere four hours of rest I was out the door to an early muni meeting. (The message I left on my editor's voicemail: "My mellow has been harshed," followed by something completely unintelligible about that assignment and the second one I was headed to that wouldn't have to be written up for daily unless the retirees started setting the union hall on fire in protest. Luckily, it didn't happen, because I'm getting too old for that shit.) Meanwhile, Snidge and Rlee headed off to Chicago for some tooling around and shopping, so that gave me the perfect opportunity to come home for a four-hour nap. (Don't judge me.) Both showed great restraint with their purchases, except Snidge bought this stuff from Lush that looks like olive drab gelatin, and I was quite disturbed. (Had I known there was going to a trip to Lush, I'd have told her to get me another bar of Buffy the Buttskin Slayer and another Butterball, but that's all right.) I got up, they got back, we all changed clothes and headed back downtown for the show, starting with a lovely dinner at my favorite tapas joint.

If y'all have never been to the Park West for a show, I'd highly recommend it, because it's a great setting, and one that suited my pretend rockstar boyfriend well, because he ROCKED. OUR. SOCKS. (Yes, pheNOMenal, my friend. Thank you for turning Snidgey on to him.) Opened with "Tremendous Brunettes" and stayed tight the whole show. He did this montage of "It's Raining Men" and "Firetruck" that included the riff from "Circles," but he flatly refused to perform it outright, which was cool. It's just too bad that the crowd didn't seem to be into it as much as they should've, because Doughty's got a great stage presence. Stupid trixies. Anyway, one of his encores? Kenny Rogers' "The Gambler."
You got to know when to hold 'em/Know when to fold 'em/know when to walk away and/know when to run./You never count your money/when you�re sittin� at the table./There�ll be time enough for countin� when the dealin�s done.

After we got out of the show, Snidge had a hankering for sushi, so we popped into the sushi joint next door for some tempura and California rolls, which were all right according to them, but not as good as some of the M-Town places. Since I'm not a huge sushi connoisseur, I had no reference point as to what's good or not, but the joint DID play techno music, which was kind of funny. Then it was onward home, but not before searching through the ghetto for a place that Snidge could use the toilet for the 15th time. (We ended up at a McDonald's on the state line where the toilets were in a trailer outside. At that point, she didn't care.)

And with that, notable quotables after the jump:
Posted by Broad10:52 PM
Friday, October 14, 2005
She just keeps growing, and growing, and growing
My little friend Kate has now joined the blogosphere, everyone! She can be fonded here: Lookit

Watch her as she loses her youth and vitality and becomes bitter just like the rest of us! Woooo!
Posted by Broad2:47 AM
Saturday, September 24, 2005
The crib is clean
or at least as clean as it's going to be with me doing all the cleaning by myself today for the imminent arrival of der Snidgen. You might recall, this is Bus demolition weekend, so some of the gang be representin' at the Speedway tomorrow night, followed by the afterparty at JB's granparents' cottage in the dunes. Pictures will be forthcoming*.
Posted by Broad2:14 AM
Friday, September 23, 2005
Meet the Ramseurs

My little Kate's all grown up.

Congratulations, youse two! Lots of joy and love!
Posted by Broad3:50 AM
Wednesday, September 14, 2005
I’m never leaving the house again
Do you know why? Two words:


That is all.
Posted by Broad8:09 PM
Friday, September 09, 2005
You don’t need help to poop on a cracker
Guess who I'm going to be seeing, if not meeting, on Tuesday?

No, seriously. Take a guess.

(Big hint: He tends to make bizarre analogies as he's giving advice ...)

Indeed, it would be the man himself, Dr. Freakin' PHIL.

Yeah, he's totally doing a mall tour of Chicagoland, and he's coming to our neck of the woods, and the paper wants ME to cover it! How cool is THAT!?! Of course, they also said I couldn't ask him advice on how to deal with Mother, but what other advice would he possibly give me other than shooting her and dumping her cold, dead remains in the Cal Sag*?

See, y'all with your 401Ks and health insurance -- that's fine for you fancy people. I on the other hand, get to meet Dr. Phil. How you like me NOW!?!
Posted by Broad1:32 AM
Thursday, September 01, 2005
My doctor says I have to take … A LAXATIVE!
Just got off the phone with Tara, who just underwent one of these: Lookit. I guess she had four teeny-weeny little polyps, but none of them were doing anything funny; nevertheless, he took 'em out anyway so they couldn't. Feel free to congratulate her on her nonmalignant colon in the comments.

I'm off to Rensseltucky today to cover the groundbreaking for an ethanol plant, but when I get back, I'll try to sit down and chronicle the latest. Because what good is utter frustration if you can't get everyone else to beat their heads on the desk, too, I always say.
Posted by Broad12:43 PM
Saturday, August 20, 2005
Saying “Happy Birthday!” With b00bs!

It's his fucking birthday today. Go wish him one.

[Card image from here.]
Posted by Broad1:57 PM
Monday, July 25, 2005
Wanna be my best friend forever?
Then buy me a buttload of Butterball Bath Bombs.




I spent the day over at Poppy's folks' pool, and I decided to use it to get the chlorine smell off. It is truly the best thing since sliced bread; with my dry skin, I'm now all good-smelling, soft and sikky smoooooooove.

Now, if only a certain someone would get over shit so we could enjoy this ...
Posted by Broad2:29 AM
Friday, July 15, 2005
Can I just tell you …
how much I love the cable guy? Not only did he give me a new modem so my broadband won't act retarded, but he fixed my Thunderbird so that I can now receive message from both my accounts! Wheeee! Life as we know it is soooooo much easier! (And yes, darling, I know I could make folders in Webmail, but I have a system! A system, I tell you! And it's all fixed! Wheeeee! No more merely longing to hear Homestar Runner deliver my "eee-maaaaaaaaail!")

So tonight, I covered the Gary Centennial kick-off party at the Genesis Center, and you know, I always think that I should probably dress like a grown-up to these things, but I never do and end up feeling like a big schmuck. Tonight's ensemble? My PDP shirt, cropped jeans and Birks. No no, no drooling, por favor. I'm sure you could've handled the hotness. But anyway, nothing like getting called out in front of eleventy billion people by the Mayor of Gary when you look like you've just got done gardening. Hope that doesn't make the cable show. (He was making sure the Post was there.)
Posted by Broad3:23 AM
Friday, July 08, 2005
So yeah, my boyfriend Aaron Beavers …
he called yesterday around 5:15-ish -- he and the boys were getting ready to open for the Nuge (that's Ted Nugent, for those not in the know), and he just wanted to see what was up and oh, he hadn't seen the article I did on the band and Roger Clyne (which I posted below for y'all), so could I send it to him via e-mail? Why, of COURSE I could, and did. So then he totally invited me and the hotties to the show when they come back 'round these parts in September. Oh, and to keep in touch.

We're going to be GROUPIES, yo! I'm SO Penny Lane for this bitch. Squeeeeeeeee! And I already know which boob shirt you're wearing to the show, Snidgey.

Ahem. Anyway.

I've managed to hold my resolve and not shoot my mouth off back at TOG because honestly, all that will do is piss him off even more. But it's been real. hard. at times.
Posted by Broad6:39 PM
Aaron Beavers loooooooaves me
You know, the lead singer from Shurman. Know why?
Posted by Broad2:23 AM
Friday, July 01, 2005
Never underestimate the power of Dad
The news is in, y'all: Dangdiggity's Pops be IN THE CLEAR! No non-Hodgkins for him! Hi-OOOHHHHH! So go congratulate her. NOW! Not later, like y'all probably did LAST TIME when I told you to go give her happy thoughts. Sheesh.

Btw, when did she and her family get the good news? Dad's birthday, natch.
Posted by Broad4:36 AM
Saturday, June 18, 2005
We’re all still here … and we LOVE shurman
These two knuckleheads are off at Starbucks getting us fuel for our next excellent adventure: a day of shopping and merriment in Lincoln Park and the Roger Clyne show at HOB which, if it's anything like last night's show, is going to be fucking UNbelievable. Wow. Just ... wow. And shurman!?!? Holy shit. The COOLEST guys you ever want to meet ever. And they ROCK. HARD. And? They totally wanted to come out and party with us AFTER THE SHOW! Too bad we thought milkshakes were a good idea; we had to pull the car over so Snidgey could barf.

More stories (and pictures) later -- just wanted to let y'all know we're not dead.
Posted by Broad12:36 PM
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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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