maro Lip Schtick: December 2004p

Friday, December 31, 2004

Kitschy-Kitschy, Ya-Ya, Da-Da (Southside Style)

I am now on a roll. After my previous post regarding the similarities (though sometimes unseen) between north and southside OKC, I thought I'd follow it up with an addendum to RedDirt's call for kitsch. Although this time I thought I'd keep it real and get back to my southside roots.

Kip's Big Boy - When I was a little girl, I was all about some Kip's. My mom used to take me to the Kip's at SW 59th and Western for some awesome burgers. And the best part: the big ol' Kip standing atop the corner of the restaurant. He was awfully friendly and inviting.

The Sinclair dinosaur - Right across the street from my beloved Kip's was a Sinclair gas station -- complete with dinosaur on the corner. I loved that dinosaur. Although it kind of brought me down when I got older and noticed the big-ass chain they put around him for fear of thievery. I don't know what kind of monster truck it would take to steal that dinosaur, but I guess someone tried it at least once. Idiots.

Big slide - Just to the south of Kip's and Sinclair, there once stood a gigantic aqua blue slide ... you know, like the ones you've seen on TV where you slide down in a potato sack looking thing. The odd thing is that I never once people sliding on it. I used to beg my mom to "take me sliding," but it was never open. Dustbury, do you have some history you can give me on the slide???

Winchester Drive-in Big Neon Cowboy - It's Oklahoma City's equivalent to the Las Vegas Pioneer Club cowboy in the infamous Glitter Gulch area. Located at 6930 S. Western, the Winchester man rocks! He waves and everything. Although I'm sure it's just a matter of time before the ultra politically-correct have it torn down because he's holding a rifle (I bet it's a Winchester).

Malibu Fun Park - Malibu Fun Park was located just east of I-35 between SE 44th and 59th. I think it suffices to say that although fun, MFP was not the leader in water park safety. Unlike White Water, there were no ride attendants telling you when to "go." It was just a friggin' free-for-all. I specifically remember getting my neck sprained as a child of eight when this big ol' Humpty Dumpty looking dude rolled over me on a water slide. I think the terror of it all was half the fun, as well as part of the reason it MFP eventually closed.

Molly Murphy's House of Fine Repute - This place scared the crap out of me when I was a kid. The people in costume were a little too much for me. In fact, I think I can attribute my fear of Groucho Marx to Molly Murphy's. I don't particularly remember the food being all that great, but people seemed to love the place. I guess the Corvette salad bar would win anyone over.

Crystal's - A favorite hangout joint for the entire eighth grade class of Brink Middle School during the mid-80s (now Brink Junior High). What can I say? Crystal's (the original at 1-240 and Penn) was without a doubt, one of the coolest restaurants ever in Oklahoma City. The pizza was great. The old-time decor, while a little spooky, added to the charm. And once you waited in the long line to order, you had your choice of several different "vignettes" in which to enjoy your fare.

There was the first room in which there was live musical entertainment (usually some acoustic solo guy singing out of the strategically placed gazebo).

Then there was a smaller room filled with just two rows of booths (perfect if you were trying to get your groove on).

But who can forget the screening room? Bleacher-style stacked tables, and old scary movies. Absolutely awesome ... except for the Groucho Marx posters hung throughout. Ick.

I will have to say, though, that Crystal's jumped the shark when they added the arcade. I realize that Pac Man Fever was in full effect, but the arcade took something away. It just didn't fit. It was brightly lit and loud ... not at all like the dark, mystic fun that made Crystal's so popular.

Cattlemen's Steakhouse - Deep in the heart of cowtown, the lamb fries can't be beat. Hey, if you're gonna eat lamb, why not really eat lamb?

That's it for now.

Peace out to my southside brethren (said the girl who moved north because she was too lazy to commute to work from one side of town to the other). Again, I digress.

The Outsiders

I'm feeling particularly feisty. I don't know if the stress with the growing skyrocketing death toll in Asia, or if it's just that I'm having a bad hair day.

But as a person who grew up in south Oklahoma City, yet now resides north, I believe I can comment on recent posts by Oklarama and Dustbury. After all, the war between the southside greasers and northside socs is a long one.

A brief history, first. Growing up "southside," I first attended Oklahoma City public schools for elementary education. I had a great time in the OKC system. I got along great with the other students (except for a brief period in second grade ... but that's a story for another time), and the facilities were more than adequate. I excelled academically, and grew emotionally (as much as you can grow as a child of five through eight years of age). The only thing I would say was lacking was the intellectual level of some of the teachers.

I remember correcting my fourth grade teacher's spelling on two different occasions (and let me tell you, she was not the least bit pleased about this ... especially since I did it in front of the entire class). Needless to say, I was moved to the top of her sh*t list for the rest of the year, but who cares? It's February, not Febuary. And it's daisies, not dasies. Moving on.

Right before I started the fifth grade, we moved a little farther south, which put me in the Moore school district (yes, Dustbury, we technically lived in Oklahoma City). We remained in the the Moore system until I graduated from high school.

All of that said, I had no idea that we were seen as "southside trash" until I went to college and met kids from north OKC. And they were not at all discreet in letting me know how they felt about southsiders. I even dated a guy during college who, after introducing me to his father at a nice northside country club dinner, told me later that his dad thought I was a "great girl - for a southsider."

What? That's the equivalent of saying, "Oh, she's pretty ... for a fat girl."
Or, "He's a handsome black guy."

Another guy I went out with kept going on and on about how impressed he was when he went with me to my ten-year high school reunion. Well, what did he think? That just because I went to a southside high school that all of my classmates would be knuckle-draggers? The irony is, he told me once about how he had to use his car as his locker because he was afraid of using his actual locker inside the school (a northside, OKC public school), for fear of his fellow locker neighbors. Hmmmm ... I was never in fear for my life, and I went to a southside school. I digress.

Getting back to the original point. I am always amazed at how people talk about the "difference" between north and south Oklahoma City. Granted, there are areas south that are seedy, I get that. But there are seedy areas of north OKC as well. But somehow this seems to be overlooked.

Remarked OKPartisan:
Having grown up in East Norman, I can appreciate living on the non-snobby side of town, but lack of snobbery can only go so far. We have a serious blight problem in many areas of OKC, but Southside is in particular trouble. I felt like I was driving through an encyclopedia entry on the Modern Great Depression. So many empty strip malls! Bargain stores, check cashing centers, "cheap cigarette" stores, broken up by a few chain drug stores and clusters of chain restaurants on I-240.

Regarding the bargain stores and "cheap cigarette" stores, have you driven along NW 23rd Street lately? And I seem to recall a brand new check cashing center in the same, I believe, yes, strip mall, in which the new Pei Wei restaurant resides. And where is said strip mall located? Oh yes, it's right next to the State Fair WalMart strip mall that took over the historical Belle Isle power plant.

And as far as 1-240 is concerned ... I don't think it looks any different than Memorial Road. Strip malls, fast food and chain restaurants, car dealerships. Man, the similarities are staggering.

I agree that the growth on both sides of the track is overwhelming. And I agree with the point that OKPartisan makes about "tax incentives for restoration of the decay," and "revitalization of our city's para-center."

But there are decay problems on both sides of the Bricktown line. This is not just a southside issue.

Wednesday, December 29, 2004

The Bigger Picture

I have truly enjoyed blogging since my start a few weeks ago. There are many nights when I go to bed and lie there, wheels spinning, engrossed in thoughts of what I'll write about next. It has become a very important part of my life (which is a testament to how pathetic I am).

But it occurred to me this morning that my blog is such an insignificant, miniscule crumb in the jumble that is life. And when I turned on my computer to find that the tsunami death toll had reached 77,000, I felt a little ashamed.

I felt this way following the bombing. After the May 3rd tornadoes. After 9/11. And now -- again.

Sometimes it takes unfortunate and horrific events like these to remind us that the world is a much bigger place then the tiny universes we call ourselves. As much as I like to think sometimes that "it's all about me," I am rudely awakened by the reality that -- it isn't.

If you would like to aid the victims of the tsunami, here's a link:
http://tsunamihelp.blogspot.com/

Go forth, and help.

Let's Taiwan On

A few posts ago, I shared an astounding example of intellectual prowess in the Missouri police force. I didn't think that one could be topped.

Was I wrong. Today, a Taiwan television channel (CTI) reported that a man "killed his friend two years ago and has been sleeping beside the corpse since then."

According to CTI:
The man, identified only as Chiu, killed his friend with an iron bar during a quarrel when they were drinking at Chiu's home.

Chiu wrapped the corpse up in a quilt, tied up the bundle with ropes and left it on his bed.
Policeman Chung Ta-nian said: "When the body decomposed and gave out a bad smell, Chiu placed camphor balls and sprayed disinfectant in his bedroom to suppress the bad odour."


Ta-nian said: "Chiu said he kept the body in his house because he believed this was a good way to reduce his bad karma, but we think he has mental problems."

Really? Mental problems? You mean it's not O.K. to bludgeon a guy, hogtie him, hole up with him for a couple of years, all while trying to hide the stench like some whacked out "Se7en" re-enactment?

To quote Buffy (the original - Kristy Swanson), "Does the word 'duh' mean anything to you?"

I guess that means I should think about getting rid of my corpse friend (thanks, RedDirt) since I now know it's "against the norm."

Not to mention a little unsavory.

Tuesday, December 28, 2004

Kitschy-Kitschy, Ya-Ya, Da-Da

No, it's not a LaBelle "Lady Marmalade" reunion. It's my version of a shout-out to RedDirt's latest -- Red Dirt Kitsch.

RedDirt has asked us to ponder our ideas about what we find "kitschy" about the Sooner state. Dustbury and Chase recommended the Townley's milk bottle at NW 23rd and Classen (might I add, it's not nearly as cool now that it's a Braum's bottle - don't get me wrong, I enjoy a little Braum's here and there. But there's something to be said for history).

They also paid tribute to the gold dome at NW 23rd and Classen (or as I lovingly refer to it -- the beehive).

So, I started thinking about things that I believe are interesting around town -- architecturally or otherwise. Some of these may not fall under the "kitschy" label, and some don't even exist anymore. But here we go:

Springlake Amusement Park - I never got to go to Springlake, but I remember hearing my mom tell stories about "The Big Dipper." For years the empty park sat as a hollow reminder of good times from our parents' past until its demolition in 1983. You could see Springlake from the road, and let me tell you, just looking at the Big Dipper scared the heck outta me.

Hideaway Pizza collages - Not only does Hideaway Pizza ROCK, but the collages are fascinating. Stop by for a slice and a look.

Skirvin Hotel - What an absolutely gorgeous building. Too bad everything that made it beautiful and one-of-a-kind on the inside has been stripped over the years by wannabe revivors who failed miserably.

Belle Isle power plant - Long gone are the days when the Belle Isle power plant, all funky and ugly, sat alone just north of 1-44. Although it was an eyesore, I still dug it ... it's that history thing I mentioned before. And I'd rather look at the Belle Isle eyesore than the State Fair WalMart that went up in its place. Ugh.

The Beehive - See mention above.

The Medieval Fair (Norman) - Lord, what a bunch of freaks. But if dressing like Azrael Abyss and being led around by a dog leash while you crawl on all fours is your thing, then who am I to judge? By the way, this blessed event takes place every April at the University of Oklahoma Duck Pond. Great place for people watching (or I guess it should be wench watching) and goth talk.

The neon pig atop 50 Penn Place - For the life of me I can't remember why that pig was there. I think it was a logo for a bank that was housed there. All I know is that when the pig was gone, I was hurt. It's kind of like insurance. You never really need it, but you just like knowing it's there.

The Western Avenue corridor - The corridor technically stretches from NW 36th to Wilshire on where else? Western! But the most eclectic section is the 36th to 50th mile. From urban, chic restaurants, to elegant antique shops ... from historic housing to cruddy old run-down laundromats ... you can find it all on Western. The newly refurbished Will Rogers Theater area has breathed new life into the heart of the mile with a quaint coffee Shop (aptly titled Will's), a fabulous Sushi spot (Sushi Neko), and it's sister hibachi-style joint, Musashi's, which is right across the street.

And don't forget all the hot watering holes along the corridor ... Cock O' the Walk, VZD's, Sipango's (I refuse to call it by it's newer name, "The Sip" -- wait, I guess I just did), Flip's, Tapwerks, and what once was the Split-T (lovingly referred to by most as the T-Bar). I'm still not quite on board with the Sonic that now sits where the T-Bar once ruled. Although, Sonic does get some points by trying to preserve some of the T-Bar history (the T-Bar sign is part of the Sonic logo on the corner, and there are some T-Bar food items that Sonic adapted to its menu).

Spirit of the Buffalo - I won't even try to explain. Just check out the link. And I must admit, as an Elvis fan, Blue Suede Hooves is by far my fave.

The Borden Cows - How awesome were the cows on the Borden Milk plant at NW 23rd and Broadway? So awesome that they (and by they, I mean, the man) decided to get rid of them. I can't remember why ... maybe someone can refresh my memory. All I know is that the cows ruled. Sigh.

That's my contribution. Feel free to let me know what I forgot. And if you have image links to some of the stuff that I obviously couldn't find, feel free to share those as well.

Kitsch ya on the flip side.

Monday, December 27, 2004

You Tell Me - #3

I didn't mean to have a sports related "You Tell Me" two weeks in a row, but oh well. Roll with the punches.

There was a great deal of hype in the NBA yesterday. First, we had the Pistons/Pacers rematch (and if you didn't hear what happened when they met earlier this season, then I insist that you crawl out from under your proverbial rock A.S.A.F.P.).

Then we had the showdown between the Los Angeles Lakers and Miami Heat. A great matchup indeed -- the Heat scorched LA in overtime (104 - 102).

Now, a lot of us have heard about the in-fighting between Kobe Bryant and Shaquille O'Neal when both guys played for the Lakers. Then, at the end of last season, Shaq decided it was time for a change -- to Miami. Many sports aficionados reported that with Shaq's departure, the Lakers were now "Kobe's team." I would think that this probably didn't sit well with Shaq.

Both players have proven themselves time and time again on the court. But they just seemed to be a combustible combination considering their love-hate relationship. So maybe it's a good thing they're no longer sharing the same space.

But who would you rather have leading your team?

Kobe or Shaq?

You tell me.

Friday, December 24, 2004

Season's Fleeting

Every year at this time I crack up at how the malls and grocery stores are crammed full of busy little shoppers trying to get all their gift-buying and food preparation details finished.

I am amazed, however, at the fact that people wait until the very last minute to get all of this stuff done. I mean, it's not like the government arbitrarily chooses a date at random each year for Christmas. In my mere 33 years, Christmas has always taken place on December 25.

So why is it that people want to put themselves through this? Wouldn't it be better to get it all done early so that you actually relax during the holiday season? To me, there's nothing better than being able to kick back at Christmas, knowing that the gifts are wrapped, decorations have been displayed, and there's all sorts of football waiting for me to watch. And don't forget about all of the good "eats" (a phrase my aunt from Arkansas used to use to refer to meals) during the holidays. I like to just graze all day.

It just doesn't make sense. Maybe people are just too busy to shop and prepare early. Maybe the holidays have become too commercialized and folks just can't seem to get into the spirit until it's almost too late. I don't know.

But whatever the reason, enjoy the season.

Gotta get going .. the stores close early tonight.

Focker?! I don't even know 'er!

Man, that joke never gets old.

I can't wait to see "Meet the Fockers" this weekend. If any of you have had the chance to see it, please let me know what you thought. Feel free to send me a link to a post you may have written about the movie ... or if you'd rather just a post a comment here, that will work too.

Not only am I excited about the sequel to a hilarious movie ("Meet the Parents"), but I just like to say "Focker." It's fun.

Focker. Focker. Focker.

Rumble in the Blogs

It's not Entertainment Weekly's fault. There's no way the writers at the Granddaddy of all mainstream entertainment publications could have known the ruckus it would cause when they named Jon Stewart as 2004's Entertainer of the Year.

And by ruckus, I mean the deliciously crafted blow-by-blow dogfight that will ensue between Chase and RedDirt. Now, I may be premature in my prediction. Maybe they've gotten the Jon Stewart hullabaloo out of their systems already. But my guess is there's still a little juice left in the veins of both blogadelic counterparts to get their collective danders up just once more on the topic.

I can't wait. Let the barbs cleverly disguised as finely honed literary craftsmanship ensue.

P.S. - And for the ladies (and gay men, and straight men who are in touch with their abilities to recognize an attractive man when they see one), check out EW's choice for #11 - Jim Carrey. Pretty cute pic, huh?! Now that's an Ace Ventura I can get on board with.

Mirthful recess to all, and to all, a good night!

Thursday, December 23, 2004

Furballs ring ... are you listenin'?

We are usually reminded this time of year to remember our loved ones, friends and neighbors. But let's not forget to include our pets in the celebrations as well.

Oklarama blogger OKPartisan reminds us that "It's a S.N.A.P." to care for beloved pets, no matter what time of year.

If you're thinking about adopting a pet this year, please consider visiting you local shelters. Some pet shelter websites even include information regarding "special needs" pets ... perfect for people who have a little extra love and attention to give.

Meow.

Wednesday, December 22, 2004

What is wrong with people? - #3

I just posted a response to RedDirt's Symposium topic, "The Bah! Humbug! Factor." In it, I mention that it is a little frustrating that everything has become "so ridiculously political," that we live in constant fear of offending others.

To that end, I guess someone wanted to see just how big of a crow I could fit into my mouth ...

http://story.news.yahoo.com/news?tmpl=story2&u=/ap/20041222/ap_on_re_us/confederate_prom_dress

It is now 2004. It should go without saying ... No confederate flag dresses! I don't care if it's at the prom, or at the local food mart. No!

I understand being proud of your heritage. I am proud of my German roots, but that doesn't mean I want to kick it uptown sporting a nice swastika disguised as formal wear.

Unacceptable.

New Rules of Yule

My friend RedDirt has delighted us with the prospect of his RedDirt Symposium. At first, I had about a million things to say about the "Save Merry Christmas" campaign. My mind wandered endlessly last night when I went to bed about how I could respond to RedDirt's call for commentary.

I wanted to discuss how everything, and I do mean EVERYTHING, seems to have become so ridiculously political. And how it seems like we can't do or say anything anymore without fear of offending somebody.

But then today I came across a reply that seemed to say it all. From the Bleachers writes:
My point is this...the Truth behind Christmas is so profound and so important that the political muckracking that surrounds the season today is so insignificant in comparison. Yes, fight against the attempts to hide that Truth, but do not cheapen it by forgetting what it is...

And an anonymous poster gave us his (or her) thoughts on the subject:
Here is my definition of HAPPY HOLIDAYS: "I don't know you or what faith you practice but I hope you get some paid time off work, eat a fabulous meal and maybe get a new sweater." Personally, I don't care what anyone wishes me as long as it is polite. How about we all pick up an old phrase and just wish everyone "Good Tidings"?

Love it. Not do these folks sum it all up in a mere two paragraphs, but they save me the trouble of getting on a soapbox. And God knows you don't want me to get on a soapbox. Wait ... was it OK to say God there? Sheesh.

But, for fodder's sake, here are LilRed's suggestions on possible new holiday greetings that hopefully we can all embrace:

"Have a pleasant occasion!"
"I hope you enjoy your mirthful recess!"
"Many content remembrances!"

Have a good one, people. No matter what it is.

Happy Birthday, Pa

My Grandpa would have been 90 today. Although he died in 1992, I still miss him dearly.

He had his flaws, as we all do. Man, was he a horrible driver ... paying attention to everything but the task at hand, driving. A classic rubbernecker. And he wouldn't slow down to take a quick glance at an accident. He would crane his neck 180 degrees at full speed if it meant he'd catch a glimpse of something interesting. My knuckles were a bright shade of pale whenever I rode with him.

And he had a temper like nothing you've ever seen. It took quite a bit to get him to the boiling point, but once he was there, watch out. His ears would turn a deep shade of red. When I saw the crimson lobes (crimson lobes ... that sounds like the name of a punk band), I knew to take cover. The funny thing is, the ears were never directed at me. I irritated him on several occasions, but never once did his temper flare up with me.

He had his good points, too. He was smart. Not just book smart. He had more common sense than most people I've met. And boy, did he know how make you feel like an idiot. Whenever I would do or say something stupid, he didn't even have to say a word. He would just sit there (in his favorite chair), shake his head and laugh at me. But there was no sound. His belly would just shake. I knew when I "heard" the silent laughter that I screwed up.

On the flip side of the coin ... I always new Pa was proud of me. Not that he'd say it so often, but I could just tell. When he would say it though, he always did it in a way that would keep me humble. He'd squeeze me on the shoulder and chuckle, "You're a good one ... sometimes." The "sometimes" cracked me up. Grandpa always had to keep me in line.

He was a great money manager -- frugal, but not cheap. He worked in the oilfield industry for years, even running his own drill bit company for a while. I remember on numerous occasions when he'd be called in the middle of the night to supervise drilling jobs. Then the oil bust of the 80s hit. But it didn't hurt Pa. He saved wisely.

He served in the Army as a soldier during WW II. But like many men of his generation ... he never like to talk about it. I found out later in his life that he had actually been sent to Buchenwald concentration camp to help liberate some of the prisoners held there. Unfortunately, I know very little about his experiences there, as he was always mum on the subject.

I like to look at pictures of him when he was younger. He was a tall, svelte man with hair as black as coal and startling blue-gray eyes. And as he aged, his hair became a shade of silver that complimented those eyes so beautifully. He was handsome until the day he died.

Pa was quiet about most events of his short 78-year life. But I loved him. He was the closest thing to a father figure I ever had, and I trusted him.

I always feel badly for people when they tell me they were never close with their grandparents. They truly missed out. Mine were my best friends.

And I think they knew it, too.

Monday, December 20, 2004

What is wrong with people? - #2

Sometimes people just crack me up. Don't get me wrong ... I say a lot of dumb things that I wish I could take back every day. But that doesn't stop me from berating other people for the stupid things they say.

A couple of weeks ago I was updating my Christmas card list. I asked a woman I work with to put her name and address on the list I was compiling.

LilRed: Hey, Vicki. Put your name and address on this list, please.

Vicki: What's the list for?

LilRed: I'm updating my Christmas card list.

Vicki: OK, I'll put my name on the list. But just so you know, I probably won't reciprocate by sending you a Christmas card.

Unbelievable. Here is a perfect example of a person not knowing when to shut up. Just put your name on the stupid list and be done with it. I have enough confidence in myself that I don't need the obligatory "reciprocal" Christmas card.

Oh, and thanks for sucking the life out of the very meaning of the holiday that is Christmas.

Happy friggin' holidays.

Sunday, December 19, 2004

You Tell Me - #2

The talk about steroids in major league baseball continues. Mark McGwire set the home run record while on steroids. And Barry Bonds, who broke McGwire's record, recently admitted to unknowingly using steroids.

But MLB fans don't seem to care. People went nuts during the McGwire - Sammy Sosa home run race. And I know people who aren't MLB fans who were checking in to ESPN to see if Bonds hit a home run each day. Why is this?

Everyone freaked when Ashlee Simpson lip-synched on SNL a couple of months ago. I just posted a piece last night regarding Stephen Glass's fall from grace. And then there's that whole Martha Stewart thing.

OK, maybe these aren't apples-to-apples comparisons. But they all involve some form of "cheating."

So my question is this:

Steroids: good for baseball, or bad?

You tell me.

Half Empty

If you've read any of my posts so far, you know that most of my ramblings are silly -- if not completely irrelevant -- with no sense of regard for anything of a serious nature. I leave the cerebral stuff to RedDirt and Chase.

But last night I checked out RedDirt's post regarding the quandary of whether or not journalists should be held accountable by regulated system, such as the bar for lawyers. Quite honestly, I think it's a good idea. When I read the piece, the first thought that came to my mind was "the guy who had made up all of those stories for some big-time magazine a few years ago."

Granted, I would have never been able to remember "the guy's" name. Nor could I remember the articles he penned or the publications in which they appeared.

That said, how ironic, and yet apropos, that I came across a movie on HBO this morning called "Shattered Glass," which chronicles the downfall of Stephen Glass ... the very writer whose name I just mentioned that I could not remember.

Glass, a writer for The New Republic magazine and freelancer for various other publications, was fired in 1998 by his then-editor, Charles "Chuck" Lane. Lane dismissed Glass following the debacle that was "Hack Heaven," Glass's fabrication about a snot-nosed teenage hacker who supposedly gave fictitious software corporation Jukt Micronics a run for its money.

The "Hack Heaven" lies were uncovered by Forbes Digital Tool (Forbes.com) reporter Adam L. Penenberg, who published his findings on-line. As it turned out, it wasn't the first time Glass "cooked" a story. He fibbed on 27 out of 41 stories for The New Republic, which led to some more cooking, of Glass's goose.

Glass became somewhat of a recluse until 2003, when he began to promote his novel The Fablulist, a story about a young reporter who makes up stories to further his career. Must be a classic example of "writing what you know."

Had it not been for Penenberg, who knows how long Glass could have run afoul with his concoctions. Maybe the folks at The New Republic should have paid more attention to the fire ... coming from Stephen Glass's pants.

Friday, December 17, 2004

In Full Effect

A few posts ago I waxed about the state of hip-hop-ery that we have reached in America.

I was made painfully aware of this notion as I drove today along the Northwest Expressway. I pulled up behind a black tinted windowed, low-riding pimp mobile. Which wasn't so disconcerting until my eyes were drawn to the graphics on the trunk:

Playa$ ... get cho$e

What the hell is that? Do women (or in this case, bitches) think that's sexy? I guess so. Maybe that's why the windows were so dark. The playa$ need to be able to "clock the hoes" while remaining incognito.

True dat, yo.

Missouri's Finest

An Amber Alert was issued earlier today for a fetus that was removed from a murdered woman's body in Skidmore, MO. Authorities announced the Amber Alert because they believed the baby could still be alive.

When questioned about the brutal slaying, Nodaway County Sheriff Ben Espey remarked, "Someone was wanting a baby awful bad."

Ya think? Thanks for the clarification, Rosco P. Coltrane. With deductive reasoning skills like those, Boss Hogg will probably offer you a mighty fine raise.

Thursday, December 16, 2004

Father Knows Best

Yesterday Chase shared with us Daddy's Girl -- his post on Joe Simpson's bewilderment of his daughter's bodacious set of ta-tas in the New York Post online edition.

Let's face it. There are a lot of aspects that make a woman physically sexy. Joe could have commented on Jessica's flowing, flaxen hair. Or her glowing skin (for which she often credits ProActiv Solution). He could have pontificated (that one's for you, RedDirt) on her beaming smile, her expressive eyes, or even her shapely legs.

So, what's the big whoop if he focused on her rack? Joe Simpson is just trying to let us know that he's a boob man.

I agree that it's a little creepy that Joe is so willing to openly discuss Jessica's funbags. There's something smarmy about a Baptist preacher raving about how hot his daughter is. Ick.

But I think we're missing the real point of his raunchy rant. When referring to Jessica's double D's, he chose to use the term, and I quote -- "suckers."

Now that's comedy. Tee hee hee hee.

Wednesday, December 15, 2004

Temple of the Blog

I have to bow down to my blog-alicious comrades, RedDirt and Chase.

Their constant use of multi-syllabic words astounds me. Let's just say that my skills in the art of "looking it up" have become quite honed (what the hell does pedantic or dyspeptic mean, anyway?). Sometimes I feel smarter just by osmosis when I read their blogs. But most of the time, I am just reminded that in comparison, I am definitely not the sharpest tool in the shed.

That's OK, though. Because I'm not here to flaunt my vocabular-ical prowess. I'm just here to have a good time. Talking about things that I like, or don't like, for that matter.

And speaking of good times, if you haven't checked out the Book of Stupid Lists on RedDirt's blog, you must. This type of jackassery is right up my alley.

Andrew children will receive funds

Various Oklahoma City media outlets reported today that funds from the life insurance policy that Rob Andrew opened will be put into a trust fund to benefit his children.

Andrew funds go to kids

Rob's story is still front page news -- even two years following his murder in November 2002.

While I'm sure the insurance money will help Tricity and Parker Andrew, I can't help but be reminded of Rob and how much he loved his kids. Hopefully someday they'll know just how much.

What a good guy. A real good guy.

Tuesday, December 14, 2004

Ahhh, now I understand...

Yesterday I posted the piece about the woman with the t-shirt:

MOTHERF*&CKER
Quite Like Me

I don't know what got into me. It appears that she was simply paying homage to the role model that is Robert Ritchie, a.k.a., Kid Rock.

How could I have been so close-minded? I am livin' in a hip-hop nation, fo shizzle.

Manning Schmanning

Suddenly the Chargers aren't looking like such a bad choice after all ... huh, Eli?

That's right. The team that first-round draft pick QB Eli Manning "refused" to play for is probably headed to the playoffs. Manning's New York Giants, on the other hand, are smack in the middle of a six-game losing streak. And you can count on making that seven games, since Big Blue faces the red-hot Pittsburgh Steelers this weekend (with bad-ass rookie Ben Roethlisberger at the helm).

You almost have to feel a little bad for Eli. Wait, no you don't. Because he made his bed.

That karma. It'll getcha every time.

Sunday, December 12, 2004

What is wrong with people? - #1

People do not cease to amaze me.

As I'm eating lunch at Penn Square Mall today, I notice a 30-something couple walking along with a young boy (seems to be about eight years old). Nothing odd about this scene until they approach. That's when I see what's printed on the front of the woman's t-shirt in large letters:

MOTHERF*&CKER
Quite Like Me

I kept re-reading it, asking myself, "Do my eyes deceive me?!"

No, my eyes are just fine. It just so happens that this woman is a complete idiot.

And it's not that I find the t-shirt itself repugnant. I'm just truly bothered by the fact that a woman would lower herself to such a level as to #1) buy the shirt in the first place, and #2) wear it in a public place while strolling hand-in-hand with her little boy.

I'm sure her parents are beaming with pride.

You Tell Me - #1

I thought this morning that it may be fun to stir the pot a little ... nice to hear what readers of this blog (all two of them) think about questions that I occasionally ponder.

That's where the Question of the Week comes in. Here goes:

Sound body or sound mind?

You tell me.

Saturday, December 11, 2004

"Man, Fowler ... cold."

That was ESPN sports analyst Kirk Herbstreit's reaction to Chris Fowler's out-of-character remark to Daniel Sepulveda at Thursday night's ESPN College Football Awards. Sepulveda, Baylor University's 2004 Ray Guy Award winner for best punter, was the victim of Fowler's zinger as he exited the stage after receiving the award.

Now, anyone who knows much about Division 1A college football knows that Baylor has been the bottom-feeder of the Big XII Conference since its inception in February of 1994. Many fans around the Big XII have been calling for Baylor's "dismissal" from the league for several years, in hopes of replacing the Bears with the likes of Arkansas or LSU (not that either team would stoop to leaving the almighty SEC).

That said, let's give this Sepulveda kid his propers. He's only a sophomore, and was elected captain of his team ... an honor usually held by juniors and seniors. And the fact that he plays for one of the worst teams in the nation but can still win a prestigious award, says a lot.

So, imagine my chagrin when Fowler, the respected host of ESPN's College GameDay, said to Sepulveda "When you're a punter at Baylor, you better be good." The collective hiss from the audience even took Fowler himself aback.

I've sung Fowler's praises on many occasions, especially for the fact that he has always risen above the need to come up with the best catch phrase or one-liner, which has become the M.O. for most ESPN anchors (sweet sassy molassy)!!

But this was one instance when Fowler disappointed me. He just couldn't bite his tongue. And there was so much other easy material he could have used -- especially since Mack Brown was in the room.

"Man, LilRed ... now that's cold."

Friday, December 10, 2004

White Lightning Strikes Twice

OK, I got a little carried away with the double-cliche title for this post.

But I must offer congratulatory words to Jason White -- the University of Oklahoma's most prolific quarterback -- and winner of the 2004 Maxwell and Davey O'Brien Awards. It's refreshing to see that some folks are intelligent enough to realize that White's accomplishments on the field this season in no way should be hindered by a duet of poorly played games by the Sooners at the end of last season.

If only the same could be said for the Heisman.

Look ma, no teeth!

I had that dream, or worse yet, nightmare again last night. The one where I'm just having a conversation with someone and a tooth falls out. Man, that's scary as hell. Second only on the horrification (wow, that was very Bush-like) scale to the dream I had once where my nose fell off. What the hell? Who dreams about their nose falling off?

But this teeth dream seems to be a recurring one. I usually am not one to buy into all that dream interpretation crap. Whether or not I believe, though, is not the issue. The fact that I have the "holy crap, I'm losing another tooth" nightmare enough times in a year's period to darn near soil myself, that's the issue.

So, if there is anyone out there who can help me with what the heck this could possibly mean, I'm all ears. God only knows that if this keeps up, I won't be able to say the same about my teeth.

Blogger?! I didn't even kiss 'er!

Yes, yes, it's true. I'm very new to this whole blogging thing. Until about a week ago, I didn't really know what a blog was. The scary thing is - I've seen about a million blogs and didn't know that's what they were - until a friend of mine sent me a link to his. I have now seen the proverbial light.

I have never been one to keep a diary ... too much work to have to write down a bunch of thoughts. And who'd care?

But it occurred to me after seeing the aforementioned friend's blog that, hey, I have a lot of things to say, no matter how inane or irrelevant. And, let's face it - typing's a lot less tedious than writing.

So, here I am. My first post. Eek.

I don't expect anyone to be entertained. But hopefully, and with any luck, someone will be, (me). And if not, at least maybe my friends and colleagues will get a break from my relentless ravings about, well, things that maybe are important only to me.

Enjoy. Or not.

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