I do not know if I will finish this one....

But sometimes, Preciousses, you have an encounter with a person who can mind-fuck you and leave you off the charts for being just 'all right'.

It was last week, okay? I got 'introduced' to a new neighbor. Only thing that surprised me is that he is in the French Foreign Legion, so he remains here five months, and goes back to Africa. Uh HUH.

I have 'met' a mess of people in my life, but THAT was extraordinary.

He looks as what you would expect him to look like. Shaved head, but a nice dome, incredibly green eyes that are always looking inward, and when he comes out of that and FOCUSES on you, well, a little scary. And his face a bit scarred, road-map of his life.

He is fifty years old. And what I want to know is WHY was Upper Austria so BORING in the Fifties that he would make that decision....

Yes, am an idjit, but... curious.

He told me about his experiences from Viet Nam to Chad and Somalia. He really, REALLY hates the US, and their foreign policy. Till, at the end, I just sat there, and silently cried. He told me stuff.... It is unrepeatable. How do people GO through that shit? 'I was just lucky.'


Uh-huh. It was amazing, and crushing, and I heard things I never realised human beings could DO to one another. Absolutely appallling.

Whelp... I think I got something accomplished today....

And for me right now, well, that isn't exactly my forte at present. You can usually find me 'under the bed' in a more or less foetal position. But that is another story for another time....

Remember during the election campaign here, and how I said I was so impressed by Elke Kahr? Well she remained the city senator for state-approved appartments and living conditions, so today Peter got to see her personally in City Hall. It was an early appointment, and saw her arrive, hey, and she has to be, HAS to be, one of the most vibrant women in all Austria. Charisma, a very unique charisma that charms you right on the spot before you know what hit you. Those eyes, so intense and curious and open to the world. Such beauty, and it comes from within.

(Yes, YEAH already, I KNOW I don't swing that way, but I can appreciate it when I see it. I would wish to be a good friend, all right? And I don't care what party she represents. She is for real, and that is what counts. You do not encounter people so exceptional just everyday on the street, you know?)

Whatever, it was the usual 'wait out in the hall' bureacratic crap till his time came. A half-hour later than scheduled, of course, but she's one busy lady. I went outside to have a smoke, so I didn't see when it happened, but they rolled him in.

And there was this somewhat elderly woman with a bad hip who works at the all-night hot-dog stand out on my square, and what might be her son, didn't wanna ask, as he is a dodgy little guy, and her thirteen year old dog, grey in the muzzle and so friendly, and we made friends, of course. The dog and me, I mean. The lady and I are polite and friendly to one another. Erik always ignores me. I'm not 'bad' enough seemingly, but that's ok. I don't want to GET to his kind of bad, or I would turn into Charles Bukowski.

Peter was in there a half-hour. Then Frau Kahr came out and said I could take him home, she had just given him a glass of water. And I thought 'WTF?'

Well, we had two other chores to do, it is unnaturally warm, so I was overdressed, and pushing his ASS across town, and my new meds are weird, perception-wise, I mean, really....

But I got it done, Preciousses, without whining and going into Gollum mode.

Back home, it finally came out. She had remembered me, who I am. Well, that sort of freaked me... It was the day before the election, she'd seen thousands of people. And I am in no way really remarkable, ya know???? But she told him I 'seemed' so 'Austrian', and meant it as a compliment. He had told her about all the good things I had done for him, and nearly broke down in her office over that. When he mentioned what I called the assisted-living place, she fell apart, and said, 'I know, he has a wicked sense of humour.' (She probably thought I was joking when I told her I did a poll on MOB, and she had won. It wasn't a joke.)

She was incredibly nice to him.

She has two solutions to his problem. So we shall see which is best. And where he was? They are going to do something about it.

About time...

Finally, I have a sense that something is going forward here. It is never easy....

Tonight is the Oscars. How trivial

BUT. I think I missed only two of them in the last forty years, and they fascinate me. Mostly because I grew up on the so-called American Dream, and worked ten years in the branch before I left.

Have seen practically nothing of the ones nominated this year. But here are my guesses, based on past things I saw, and people who were deserving and passed over. Cate Blanchett for the one or best supporting actress, and if she gets the lesser one, I will EAT Terribles's 'revolver' soup and throw up, and never speak to anyone again. For a while anyway. She is the most luminous person I have seen on screen since Julie Christie.

Daniel Day Lewis for best actor. I haven't seen 'There Will Be Blood', but I KNOW what he can do. And he should have gotten it for 'Gangs of New York', but the Establishment has this resentment against Martin Scorcese. And he was grandious FRIGHTENING in it. Johnny Depp still looks too young, but has an impressive track record. He will get one yet, mark my words.

I hope, very MUCH hope, that Sondheim gets the award for best adapted sound score. That music is hauntingly beautiful.

But those who know me know that I have been going ON for a decade or more about Sweeney Todd, and 'THAT MUSIC!' (And yeah, about Mrs. Lovett, and how she bakes people into pies.) And why Sweeney becomes a serial killer. But it was always about the MUSIC, combined with the lyrics, and it gets close to opera, which he has ALWAYS denied, but that is how it was perceived....

It is THE masterpiece of American theatre in the last century. In my opinion. Am not so sure that the film realises the potential from what I have seen and heard.

Another favorite for me is Persiana, in the animated category. That sounds fantastic, but hasn't played here.

In the foreign film category, well, whaddaya know? An Austrian director is in there for 'The Counterfeiters'. Big party planned in Carynthia, the state south of me. (We have nine.) BUT... I don't think it will come about this time despite the good things I have heard about it. I DO think that 'Taxi to the Dark Side' will win. Because it would be a slap in the face to the Bush administration. Also a true story. And we have to look at NOW, not then. And as much as I admire people willing to look back, and rub people's faces in their PASTS... I think it will win because, THIS is NOW.

Otherwise, won't have a clue.

At the same time, I learned that there is gonna be a Sixty-Minute exposé about a certain Mr. Siegelman, who got sandbagged my a certain Mr. Rove, running simutaneously.

Am certain I will find the 'good ' stuff on 'Crooks and Liars'.

But just for today... It is Oscar day. Always been part of my life. Some people like to go to basketball or baseball games? I like to go to the Oscars via my tee-vee. And watch the pretty people. And absolutely FREAK out over how bloody OLD the people I admired became, meanwhile. It is just life.

Terrible, you got a TIVO? Otherwise it doesnt work, and the other is more important.

Just sayin...

Update.... Well, it is over, and: Oh.... MY! Well, I haven't been paying too close attention, have I? I had been under the impression that 'Taxi to the Dark Side' was in the foreign film category, not purely a documentary. So both it and 'The Counterfeiters' won. How very good. Betcha they had a hell of a celebration in Carynthia. Yup. And I hadn't realised that the best adapted score category got eliminated somewhere along the line.

So surprised that Tilda Swinton got best supporting actress, but can't tell, that movie hasn't been shown here yet. But she seems to be a very funny lady. But Marion Cotillard taking the main prize for actress? I REALLY thought it would be a close call between Cate Blanchett and Julie Christie. Looks like I'm going to have to make Terrible's Revolver Soup. Yup.

One thing about that award is a little bit unfair. She couldn't DO the Piaf songs, so they had another artist sing them. Her performance WAS gut-wrenching, and difficult to watch. But still. They cribbed on that a bit. (James Wolcott of Vanity Fair recently wrote about seeing it and practically RUNNING out of the cinema after about twenty minutes of it, so I guess I have a better stomach than he does. Ha. And 'reviewed' it a while ago... in the movies tag in the side-bar.)

What I mean is, I have seen 'Piaf' on-stage, done by an incredible Swiss actress. And it was full of the chansons, of course. And the ugly things, but it wasn't to the point where you recoil in horror. She didn't 'imitate' Piaf's singing, but it came so close, it was incredible, and you ended up with shivers running up your spine. And won a mess of awards for her performance, deservedly so. So there's a difference there, you know? I would have expected that award to go to someone who 'did it all their own selves'. Just sayin'....

Otherwise.... well someone must have dosed Jon Stewart with a heavy hit of valium. Everyone was fairly pc. None of the winners made asses of themselves. A tad boring, in other words. And they really had enough time to add the wonderful Roy Scheider to the 'In Memoriam' clip, but didn't. (That was one very sexy guy, btw...) Tja. Another year and another generation gone....

OK. Gloves OFF

I really, REALLY HATE racist shit. And Bill O has been a festering thorn in my side since 2001 when I got subjected to his pompous, fatuous, bloviating FAUX news face. He has been appalling. I threw things at my tee-vee screen. And yelled.

And I am usually a calm person.

Usually....

BUT.....

That excuse for a human being, SETS ME OFF.

That cowardly little MO-FO wants to set off a LYNCHING PARTY against Michelle Obama??? If she says she doesn't like the way the country looks in the world? Well, at least she LOOKS outside of her borders, just sayin'

Na, hör AUF damit! Stop this shit NOW.

You have the power and the telephones and e-mail addresses to STOP that ass, and cold-cock him.

I have been TRYING to link to a photo and that horrible radio clip, but Blogger won't let me. GO over to www.crooksandliars.com They set me OFF, hey.

Now where did I put that back-pack?

Jeebus.

Ok, found one. And before you go off the charts for WONDERING.... That EXCUSE for a human being sets himself up with 'family values' shit. Nowadays he looks sort of ghoulish, but y'all KNOW I like horror films.

But just Google 'Andrea Makris', hey. And you will find out, because I am definitely not going to take you there.

And 'twisted' as I am... it would never have occurred to me to shove a vibrating dildo up my ASS while talking to ANYONE because I wouldn't be able to get OFF any other way. Ja, ja. Family 'values' IN-deed, hey. And racist.

just when you think you are not a backward-looking person....

( and we all KNOW what the late Tammy Faye Bakker said: 'You can't go forward lookin' in the rear-view mirror of your LIFE.' For all the absurdity about her, that was a good one, just sayin.')

But just when you think that, a 'day' comes around, one you wish had never happened... one that was a watershed development, and so earth-shaking, it is worth taking a moment, and ]]]] look BACK [[[[[ (nah, am not gonna go all 'drama queen' on ya....)

One year ago today, about two hours from now, I took Peter grocery shopping at a supermarket. I had a hard time getting him down the stairs, and actually wanted to put it off to the next day. He said his blood sugar was too low. But he was so hectic, I gave in. Big mistake, hey....

Well, he used to do little things to irritate me, you see? One of them was fidgeting around when I was trying to steer. Or braking with his foot at the most inopportune time. We used to be 'teh' hit at the market with macabre jokes about how I was gonna 'dispose' of him up-river where there are ducks. Sort of: 'scarin' the horses', hey. Gawd, how we all laughed....

And then, he seemed a bit wonky when I rolled him into the supermarket. And then... and then... he fell over to one side, and nearly tipped out of the chair.

And what do you think my first reaction was? I smacked him one on the shoulder, HARD, and yelled, 'What the FUCK are you DOING?!!! SIT UP, hey!. I can't steer!' So how is THAT for 'empathetic', hey? I am ashamed to this day that I didn't see it for what it was, immediately. It happened so fast.

It took me at least one minute to realise..... something is very wrong here. And this 'voice' was in my head, yelling, 'STROKE! STROKE!' and another saying, 'stay calm, sugar too low. ' I got him to the check-out, grabbed an ice-cream on the way as a last hope, 'please tell me this isn't happening' ploy on the way out, and tried to feed him some. And these people were yelling at me, what was I thinking of, putting the pillow so crooked, and making him lop-sided, and trying to right him up. I've seen many a horror film, and liked them, but that was just so off-the-wall REAL... Horrible....

It glopped out of his mouth and fell on his jacket, and normally, he'd have gone ape-shit over that. No reaction. I wanted to get an ambulance, FAST.

He insisted he wanted to go home. There isn't a mule in Missouri more stubborn than Peter. And me in full panic mode. 'He'll never get up the stairs. And then I can call the ambulance.'
I have NEVER ran those three blocks so FAST in my life.

And called the ambulance.

He refused to go with them. He really didn't know what had hit him. They were so kind, and time was of the essence. Didn't want to budge, and I had no real 'status' or 'right' to say, 'You get him out of here. NOW!' No rights, Preciousses...

I was off-the-charts for 'helpless'.

(I fucking hate 'helpless'.)

The Red Cross people couldn't just leave him there. So they called the police. One big BULL of a guy, about my age, and four petite police-ettes. Uh-HUH, I thought, this is REALLY going to 'help'. Jawohl...

But it worked. And in that moment, he was so fucking angry with me. Thinking I had sicced the cops on him. They took him away in an ambulance, and he glared at me out the window. I sort of died inside, at that moment.

Three hours later, he called me and thanked me for intervening.

Fuck. Just... fuck.

So... happy anniversary, Peter. I so SO wish it had gone down otherwise, but am not clairvoyant.

And the next time someone wants to tell you about 'teh gays', and their supposed agenda, think about how that felt for me. How it is to have NO RIGHTS. And that fucking helpless....

We are just people, too. It really does not matter whom you love. One of the best things you can say in your life, is THAT you loved, with all your heart, and it really doesn't matter whom it was. What MATTERS is if they gave you that little piece of their heart and loved you back, as imperfect as it is.

And NOTHING is perfect. We all know that.

So.... now that I have THAT outta my system.... can we look forward now and see what the windshield TELLS us, hey?

Just don't tell me more storms on the horizon. I need time.

Just sayin'

It is wonderful to know you have friends out there...

who can make you smile, when everything looks so bleak. Annti is sort of a miracle to me. She had this photo up of how she thinks I would react to the meme of 'ceiling cat' (who created the universe, and mankind, and so on.) Good GAWWD. I wish I could look that cool.....

Huh... how odd. And Kafka...

I have had to do some bureaucratic stuff the past few days. It was so odd, and surreal.... First I went to the wrong building, the one I used to have to get work permits at.

'ÄÄÄÄÄhh! Wrong!', as Alf used to say before the CIA got him. (Cat lovers will hate me for that reference, but that was a funny show.)

So this polite person noticed I was uncertain, and explained that the place I needed is in a spanking new building fifteen minutes' walk away. Oh.

So I went over there, of course. Fully automated. It reminded me of the film 'Brazil', so it was sort of Orwell, also. And on the left was only for persons born between January and June. And on the right was for those born between July and December. So I went right. There were a mess of machines in there, and everything hyper-modern. And touch screen computers. When the hell did they do all this, and how did we, the taxpayers, PAY for it? Somewhat disorienting.

On the right were little teller counters, labelled A-H. And I thought, 'Am I in the right PLACE?' 'G' was free, but they all had signs saying you couldn't talk to the persons at the counter without a 'ticket'. Whatever that was. And, yes, they actually used the English word. And I must have looked totally, totally lost, because the little guy in 'G' asked, 'What are you looking for?' I told him, and he said I had to go to a machine and punch out a ticket and then wait till my number came up and then I would see what counter I had to go to on a huge screen they have, and when your number comes up it beeps like those backing-up-trucks' warning signals. Unnerving, it was just unnerving...

So I punched my ticket out, and then about ten minutes later... my number came up and I had to go to.... Mr. 'G'. To be fair, he didn't look like he was DOING anything important, and no one was there... but I thought, 'Good Gawd, this is Kafka.'

'Give me your health insurance number.' I did. He typed stuff in... (then... him, shocked)

'You've never been here before.'

'No.'

'Are you an Austrian citzen?'

'Yes.'

'You 'escaped ' from the US?'

(And yes, he actually said that, am making nothing up here....)

'In a manner of speaking, yes. You wouldn't understand. But I would do it again in a second.'

It was so surreal. Kept wanting to speak English with me. He had all my papers.... In the end, he was nice. I guess he had to work by the rules. They never used to...

They would get their xenophobic stuff right in your face.

And then said I have to come back today, and go to room 19 at a certain hour. With certain papers.

And a form I had to fill out.

So... was putting all the stuff together this morning to go to )))ROOOM 19(((
(It sort of sounded like, 'beam me up, Scotty', and I get to see the mother-ship.)

And discovered......

Some people do NOT know what an oral contract is, one that is pre-dated, and then in writing, and signed. Then it becomes a binding contract. And you keep it, hey, just sayin'.....

And not then give you something official with something TOTALLY ELSE on it. Or actually try to BRIBE you into the worst decision you could make for a pittance more, and ruin you in the long run. I nearly heaved.

(Nearly, Annti, but then I got angry.)

Someone tried to talk me into the worst thing I could have decided, to 'their' gain, as I learned later. Or that is what I've learned since, at any rate....

Uh-HUH.

I was so fucking hurt...

There was a guy who had an appointment in room 18. Sort of Middle-East looking. And NO I did not look to see if he had a back-pack, or for signs of wanting to blow us up. I didn't care, at that point.

So both parties were free, we were a little early, and both go to see if we can get this all over with a few minutes earlier, and whaddaya know, hey....

Mr. Middle East gets sent back out to wait till EXACTLY the appointed time, and I go to room 19, (neither of them had people in there....) , and I say 'good morning, am little 'over-puncual'... 'NO, come in!' A twenty-something, very adept young, very attractive woman with a nice smile and honest eyes. Since I'm still written up sick, she wrote me up as being put inactive for the moment. The money comes from the health insurance, meanwhile, I learned. What the fuck do I KNOW, hey.

The person I had to deal with was NICE.

So it was ok.

Will be hanging in the air for months.

Maybe I can do a trapeze routine, and learn to do a fan dance simultaneously while I'm at it.....

Who knows... and as much as that pisses Annti off.... It is only your sense of humour that gets you through it darlin', I know that for a FACT.

Right....

Carry on. Nothing to see here....

Ok, let's face it... I am NEVER going to learn.....

Yesterday, I thought my stomach thing was over after a week. Was supposed to do something today which so goes against the grain... I got dry heaves and tried to vomit for hours. Only there was nothing to come up. So I thought if that keeps up, well, terrific muscle work-out for the abdomen, I could develop a six-pack. Annti is off the charts for hounding me into have someone run a tube into my stomach to look for ulcers. There is no blood coming out of one end or the other, so NO. When I first met Peter, his mother was dying. He used to go home after night shifts and find blood all over the place. And they were so awful with the gastroscopy, he often went off the charts for being helpless, and outraged. My empathy brought us together, actually.

Well, Precioussesss... I didn't dare leave the house this morning. I am so rusty, am not ABOUT to try a triple Rittberger and dry heave into the gutter near the bus stop. Some things Really should be private. So around noon, I tried to cook something that wouldn't just wouldn't come up.

So I made me some instant mashed potatoes. Bland. Stayed down. Some toast with cheese. Bland. And then two DARING BLTs. I hadn't thought of them in years....

Stayed down.

Progress is being made....

And then, my colleague who likes musicals goes ON about the High School Musical films. Plural. Well, you know the first one sort of freaked me out. The sequel? I fucking went and bought it, because she likes it and because I like her very much. The subtext is even MORE perverse than the first one, and so REALLY fits in Annti's meme nowadays. Class war. SO FUCKING AMERICA.

Bottom line? You stay in YOUR PLACE, you stay in YOUR CLASS, you do not betray YOUR friends, and if you are really, REALLY industrious, you will get what you want. And whore yourself out. Best fairy tale ever written, hey. They put a super-sugar-glazed chocolate icing over the message, and the kids are talented, the choreography is stupendous, the songs are great. But what are these people DOING to young minds all over the world, hey?

Disney--- pouring the American Dream all over the world. And if you don't MAKE it---it's your fault. Because GOD, whoever she is doesn't like that. I'm so old, it doesn't matter. But it very much bothers me. That is fucking heinous.

Your potty mouthed hippie in spirit.

Well, just paint me green with yeller polka dots, hey...

My father e-mailed me, sort of wondering. He is a young 92 year old. And he was tee-vee surfing, and suddenly ran into this bitch, Ann Coulter, on a talk show, you see. And she kind of freaked him out. Nasty, much? If she was here she would be in JAIL, hey. One of the most incendiary assholes on the face of this planet.

So first he doubted that she is a woman at all. Or transgendered. Now I have NEVER spoken to him about Ann Coulter, and there have been rumours out there for a long time. I practically fell off my chair for laughing. I guess if you get to be older than 80 you call it like you see it, and don't give a fuck. (For those of you who do not know.... she has the biggest Adam's apple you have ever seen, and huge hands.)

And a vitriolic meme----just poison stuff. And she is loved by the MSM. (main-stream-media) Whatever. She was shilling for her new book. And my Dad wasn't sure if what she was spewing was just PR, or if she really believed what she was saying. (It was clear to him that she was a Rethug, as he calls them...)

And he was able to take ten minutes of her vile, and then turned the tee-vee OFF.

And then he goes and asks me who the fuck she IS. Now how the hell do you answer that?

And the best thing EVER? She would vote for Hillary over McCain. Uh-HUH.

All of a sudden, hey.

Well you tell me, darlin's.

Because I certainly do not get it. And my Dad is way cool.

What an ODD day....immigration issues, actually...

No, don't run away, will not whine or bitch, promise, hand on my heart and swear to Gawd, whoever she is..... Am not sure what that doctor gave me, but it sure is weird....

At five a.m. I checked Murika blog, and the results were Obambi leading in delegates.

And then I had to go get Peter and taking him over to the square to get shaved, because he can't do it since his stroke, and I am NOT about to go out and get a straight razor. Uh-UH... Contrary to popular rumour, I am not Sweeney Todd..... yet....

So he tells me the local radio reported the opposite, and the sHill is ahead with delegates. Well, we sort of argued over that one, but he turns out to be right. Whatever. So much can happen in three hours, hey...

I got him out of the house, and had my Porsche of a heart racing at Monza this morning. Not so good. And wheeled him over to Mr. Enver Bakota's one-man little hair-cutting salon. (No, he is not Sweeney Todd, either....) Near my home, out on the square. He seems to be a nice person, and has a nice way about him. Except he was a bit grouchy today.

As per usual, I went outside and had a cigarette. Seems he spilled his guts while I was out. Peter told me about it afterward. Mr. Bakota is Turkish. Been here six years. He had to get his extension to stay here, and normally, the way it used to be, if you had been here five years, you got a five-year extension for a work permit, and my goodness, did I ever have to go there. They often weren't so friendly, you know?

My most fun time was this horrible woman who once loudly remarked that foreigners stink? Loudly enough so that everyone heard. Well I had to go back home and get some missing papers, and put on so much Christian Dior cologne, I STANK. Nice stuff, but too much... you know, so bad an Ami would start yelling 'This is a NO ODOR zone!' Well sort of overwhelming. And sort of moved so she nearly got the overwhelmed part of it, hey. (My gawwd it is FUN to be young and reckless.... and a little bit MEAN.) Believe me, she got the point, and that stuff was expensive---

Whatever, today it made me go into Dickens mode for outrage at social injustice.... And sick to my stomach, hey. Gave me the dry heaves. (I haven't been able to keep anything down for over a week, just soup. )

They only gave him one year, NEW RULES, as Bill Maher would say... And he had to pay over three hundred Euros for it. That is one hell of a lot of money for what he is taking in.

He speaks well, is industrious, it just is not FAIR. I was in there two days ago because I hadn't shaved in five days and had to go to the doctor's, and was so upset, I nearly puked, and had to leave fast. Wanted a shave because my bloody Bics are no use if wait so long,
(Yeah, I have this puking thing. I can not keep anything down, hardly. Yup, just eat it and throw it up, like an anorexic ballerino. Is that a WORD? Just askin')

When I wheeled Peter over there, Enver was so concerned about that.... I played it down.

It was just basic human kindness, and we could use a lot more of that around here.

Maybe I am sort of off-the-wall crazy at the moment. But it seems to me, well, this used to be a country which was at the forefront of taking in political refugees, even if it was a small place. It was something that made me PROUD to be an adopted---(some people would maintain a 'sneaked in member' ) of this wonderful country. And of all the ones over the past thirty years, most used us as a stopping place to go elsewhere, where the job prospects were better.

But it was always Eastern Europe, Caucasian types at first. And then came some Indonesians. A bunch of Africans. And Asians. Well, how exciting. EXCEPT.... they won't give them work permits in most cases, nowadays....

The 'locals' get pretty freaked when people who are sort of brown or yellowish suddenly turned up. They do not handle it well. And they go sort of Dachshund for attack little ankle biters, 'because they do not learn German' immediately. Well, Preciousses, MOST of them speak about five languages fluently. The locals mostly do not. German is not exactly easy to learn. (There is some hope in the younger generation, that they learn other languages. They should not be so insular or xenophobic.)

It is not FAIR. If you fucking take them in, you have to give them a CHANCE. Or you change the rules and do not let them in at all. You DO NOT put them out on the streets selling newspapers, or delivering them, where in one case, a perfectly peaceful guy I knew, so tiny and decent, got knifed by some racist pig and hurt so badly he can't work any more. Permanent damage. And refuse now to give them a work permit. So some of them go into criminal activities just to keep food on the table, and it reinforces the locals' predjudices. Which reinforces my anger, so I throw up a lot.

And while we are on the fucking subject... I have had intimtate relations with people from five of seven continents. (The guy from North Korea, sort of freaked me out. But I had a nice Japanese friend...... And the guy from Peru was 'pretty'.... Just sayin'...)

If there is a POINT to all of this... People are just people. Some of them are so nice you could fall in love. Some of them are not. I get so fucking Angry, when I see people diss people because they do not look like them. Didn't they EVER look in their eyes??? It never matters whom one is intimate with as long as the chemistry is right. And now that I have done my 'whore of Babylon' post.... Well....

Am SO under the bed.

Huh. I was going to do something 'fun' today. Uh huh..... The formidable, incomparable, extraordinary TRex had me nearly falling off my chair laughing today. I never thought an old geek from New England would fall for the incredible charm and wit of one of the most erudite writers I have ever run across. From Georgia. The South still produces some of the most wonderful gentlemen and ladies I have ever had the honour to meet. Sorta crazy, but gentlemen and ladies.

Maybe tomorrow. Who knows?

So take a look at those 'strange' people who pass you by on the street. Some of them might enrich your life one thousand fold.

TRex is in my side bar. When he is really good, he is a wonder. That guy is on FIRE, hey, and I wish I could be that funny. Some stuff is so wonderful.

Now what did that doctor fucking GIVE me for meds? Bloody odd, hey...

Tja. Well, tomorrow is another day.... and how trite.

The Ash Wednesday after (Ha) Tsunami Tuesday

Really, you just have to give a Pulitzer Prize to some so-called journalists who come up with something that assinine. Oh, I know they have done worse..... Why don't they have a sort of Raspberry award for the ones who dumb-down a world audience so that they might get a clue, huh?

Yes, you guessed correctly, I did my rounds on the blogosphere this morning, curious as to what the peeps 'decided'. The MSM is pushing the sHill as winner-in.... The link above tells us why the results might be something else altogether, although the tone is sort of cheerleading....

I have this very uncomfortable mental connection when I hear the term 'Ash Wednesday'. At first, it didn't mean much to me, and yes, was brought up in the RCC faith, but it was just the day you were forced to go to Church, and some creep dirtied up your forehead with a thumb-print.... probably from the cigarettes they smoked out of the ash-tray from the night before, after having had a hell of a time on Maundy Tuesday with a bunch of cabana boys, looking back at it now, but what do I know?

But when I was about seventeen or so, and a very verklemmt and inhibited young person, I read a novel, you see. (Nothing new, I read seven to ten books a week for over thirty years of my life, hey...) That one totally shocked me. The novel was in four (or five?) sections, and was extremely well-written. It was about a young man, who sells himself sexually. (There is a point to this, btw.) It was brilliantly written, not pornographic, but way out there for telling some truths absolutely no one ever wanted to hear.

It ends in New Orleans, on Ash Wednesday, and is so depressing. The I-narrator has been offered love the evening before and rejected it, and is in a world of pain. And that is what Ash Wednesday became to me. I knew I had 'feelings', and they frightened me to death. Almost... And that novel opened up a world I had no idea existed. It shook the foundation of the world as I knew it. I had felt like the most alone person on the face of this planet.

But that was in the Sixties, and in the whole book, just about every figure was a sort of a freak, someone you so NOT to want to emulate. And then the main character rejects the only person who seemed 'normal', and reached out. I believe I read it later, but it shook me then, as well. It left me with absolutely no hope, probably retarded my personal development by years. I so did NOT want to go there, not if there were people like that around.... Like most people, I just wanted to be loved..... What a crime.....

So why am I telling you all this? Easy. I look around me, as a person open to the world, and in the election race, looked for someone to believe in and who would give you hope. Someone who would give everyone a sense of anticipation, and participating, and being a part of a community. (Yeah, am so old I saw John Kennedy speak, and you wouldn't BELIEVE how he electrified the public.)

I wish I could be as enthusiastic as the diarist up in the link, but I am not. One needs leaders one can look UP to. Where did he suddenly get thirty MILLION dollars, huh? Something fishy there. And the sHill is suddenly short on funds? Uh-uh....

Tja. Ash Wednesday, hey. You were expecting Herring salad, maybe? (I have done it---out of lurrv... that and eel.... just don't get me started, ok?)

Oh yes, the novel. 'City of Night' by John Rechy. I later read he got a professorship in English, but didn't give up selling himself. And don't we all, in one way or the other.....

Oooooh..... shiny, glittery, ....money!.....

Yup, just as I thought. Now who exactly are the backers, and who would she sell down the river? Inquiring minds would so like to know, hey... Just so it won't come as a surprise, you know... (The link is in the title.)

Punch and Judy, hey...

WTF???

Mrs. Clinton cried again today, or teared up, or was fucking nostalgic. This stuff makes me sick to my stomach. Who the fuck cares? Was it intended to get sympathy votes? Was it real? (I can't believe that, I see you as a ROBOT.) Do it once it is beleivable. Twice? Nah, and damaging in the end.

The lady is going to go down in flames at the polls.

How sickening....

Just when you think you are fucking indestructible...

Your body betrays you.

Isn't that a hoot....

Sometimes I do NOT 'get it' until it is too late.

So have been throwing up like some anorexic ballerina, as Jo would say. (I always LIKED that picture in my head, but do NOT like it in reality and if it is happening you you. Tja, fantasy and reality, Precsiousses. )

My heart is acting up.

To the point where it scares me, and there isn't much that scares me. (did you hear that, mr. K? Almost nothing fucking skeers me.)

Unlike what some fucked-up people think, I have always thought I was pragmatic. But I was never afraid of ANYTHING in my life. And stood up for whatever I did, and was never ashamed of any of it. I think I have been a decent person in my life.

Whatever, my heart races so horribly, it gets frightening. I get short of breath when I do something trivial for lifting stuff.

I should get my sorry old ass over to a hospital, but am stubborn. Have to see a doctor tomorrow anyway. And hey, whaddaya know? I KNOW that the cause is psychosomatic. But it has REAL consequences, I had a fucking psych major before I switched to German, so am not exactly stupid, but who would have thought, hey...

So... am off to bed again.... And Nah... my heart is just racing along as if it were a Porsche at Monza. Creeps me out.

Update. I slept most of the afternoon. Went to find something to eat at the supermarket.... We're having Mordor weather. The air stank so bad, I could hardly catch my breath. I hurried to try to get back home in time, but I didn't quite make it, am afraid.... Started to cough and then I did a not so graceful double Rittberger, (am rusty) and projectile vomited into the gutter for the edification of the people waiting at the bus stop who really did NOT need that, as if it were that horrible thing in that Monty Python movie. I don't know the english title. 'The Meaning of Life' or something like that.

And no, it is not the flu. Now I know why Truman Capote went off the charts when he got majorly dissed.

Just sayin'....

I guess Monza is over for the time being, and the Porsche won, or came in second at least. That is a nice thing.... But I think it needs a carbeurator change, or a new muffler. Because it sort of hurts over on the left side. Sort of behind the scenes dull pain.

And oh FUCK, I just needed that, right? (god, just in the bathroom again... how the fuck much can you have in your stomach, hey? Just watery stuff... gross.)

So am just majorly boring myself here. How FUCKING stupid of me. Will not, so NOT do another post on my 'Befindlichkeit'. Some people were out to hurt me and badly. And I am just going to have to deal with it. Somehow I have the sneaking feeling..... you aren't having any fun.

Insomnia, and wishing for a brain aneurism... and a recipe....

Up in the middle of the night, so I went floating about the blogosphere, to see what is going on.
Pretty much as I suspected. Everything in the US election campaign will degenerate from one of ideas to a Punch and Judy Show. How depressing....

Why on earth did John Edwards throw in the towel so EARLY?

Did he get threats? Inquiring minds want to know, hey. Huh.... And all that get left are the corporate-approved way-bought whores. Sad.

Whatever, am going to impart my recipe for Szegediner Goulasch, for all you Amis... Because I outdid myself yesterday, making it. According to Peter, who has often been the victim of my experiments.

So first: you get some very lean pork. I get to go to a butcher, and get it cut small, the way I want it. For four portions, you need a pound. And then you need about one and one half pounds of Sauerkraut. Not the packaged stuff, the real thing open in wooden buckets. Otherwise the mildest you can find. And a small onion. 'And a clove of garlic.

So you cut up the onion and garlic fine, braise it in one tablespoon of lard---yeah, I know, but it doesn't work without, and then you braise the meat lightly, and then you add the Sauerkraut. And add some water. NOT much, it is supposed to steam, hey. Keep the heat way low.
And then you add one teaspoon of paprika, and one of ground caraway. NOT MORE! It will look pale, but is just exactly right. Add a bay leaf. Cover, let simmer.

And then you can clean the house or watch a film for ninety minutes. Just check that the water hasn't evaporated.... and add if necessary....

When the Sauerkraut is soft, you add one little container of Creme Fraiche to it. And mix it well.

Works every time. And if there are leftovers.... it is absolutely better the next day.
But do it on a day when you can open a window... it kinda smells strongly at first.

On DVD. Death at a Funeral. Outrageous.

Was feeling really like puke on the sidewalk this morning, so I said to myself, 'nope, you aren't gonna GO there, no way, no how!'

So what to do? My pulse was really erratic, and some asshole once put out the meme that laughing is good, so I considered looking at 'State and Main' yet again. (I have my good colleague D. to thank for that. He saw it after a late night shift, and recommended it, knowing that Vermont is a neighbor state to NH.)

But nah, wanted something new. And so I went to the dvd store, and was undecided. Humour is so individual, and can get you into buckets of trouble, believe me.

Whatever, I ended up getting 'Death at a Funeral'. Except the German title is 'Dying for Beginners'. Yeah, am having this morbid streak. I only learned what the real title is in the extras.

It is a britsh production, so be forewarned. I haven't seen a film that made me laugh out loud in a long time. And then make you cry at the end. Not since 'Four Weddings and a Funeral'. It takes place in near real-time, at a funeral about to be held in a mansion. And first they deliver the wrong corpse. Then the near and dear arriving. And then! It was so over the top hilarious, I actually laughed out loud, hard. And I really do not have anything to laugh about right now...

I do not wish to give away much of the plot. It is stuff you have seen before, sib rivalry, the crazy relatives, the anal retentive and the the opposite family members... But everything in the script got a twist, and it is fresh and surprising, and very very funny.

And just between us and the four walls...

That 'little person' blackmailing the main character pictured up above? I would do him. Yup. What a wonderful face and such personality shining out of those eyes. Now I am going to have to get 'The Station Agent', which I have heard much about. He is the most remarkable actor I have seen in a long time.

There wasn't any 'moment' in it, it was organic, and built up to hilarity. A perfect ensemble effort which ends up making a wonderful if rather odd film.

Just rent it, buy it, but watch. And beware. I have a very odd sense of humour.... just sayin'

Hilarious. It's a keeper.