Flaming 'gros tas de merde' finally extinguished!

And it only took four months to put it out. (Nebraska, however, will still smell like poo...)

Read and learn, here.

Schooling the Weird-Harold

Finally, someone gets it. How to do a story for Black History Month that honors the contributions of African-Americans without a backhanded slam weaved through it all. And guess where it came from? The little burg of Grand Island, Nebraska, of all places! Read and learn about some of the many aspects of life in Nebraska for people of color, yesterday and today.

(When prompted for a password and username, just enter veritas for both).

More Cousins, More Fame

Although it is true, the Omaha World-Herald sucks ass, they nevertheless did run a story on this rather uniformed debate about the history behind African-American quilts made by slaves escaping to freedom. They also printed a photo of, and quoted my cousin Janet, famous former RN, current Funeral Director, and Quilting Enthusiast, with one of her many chef d'oeuvres.

What the article (as well as the curator of the University of Nebraska-Lincoln's International Quilt Study Center) don't mention is the rather obvious fact that there may not be documentation to support the stories behind the patterns chosen for the quilts because putting info like this to paper might lead to it falling into the wrong hands, thereby revealing points of the journey along the Underground Railroad. (Just a thought). Perhaps one day, the proof some say doesn't exist will surface, so some ninny reporter right out of j-school can find a more interesting angle on which to base her story.

But hey...I'm not bitter, or anything. Just sick and tired of the dimwits who by-and-large inhabit the many institutions of this great midwestern hell hole. That's all.

I have to go roll my eyes now...ciao, belli.

Throwback Poncho, Completed & Posted.

Modelled by Yours Truly in the squalor that is my salon, my first poncho. It's the Villa pattern by Megan Riordan, and posted in Knitty.com in Autumn 2003. I used TLC Amoré in (3628) Dark Thyme with (3627) Light Thyme for the trim. This is because I didn't want to be out a huge wad of cash if I screwed it up. (I didn't). I chose to use 12 mm needles, because I wanted the drape to make it look as if it had been crocheted instead of knitted. That, and I wanted to hurry up and get the entire mess over and done with. (Patience isn't a big part of my skill set). I started in late August and finished something like two weeks later (because I never work on anything straight through...it's just not my nay-cha).

The Contac-C is eating up my brain

...which I hope helps to explain why I felt the need to share this link with you: The Anomolous List of Unusual Names.

Admittedly, I'm much too old to be amused by such sophomoric humor, but I can't help it. I'm stupid that way. Try it, it's fun! Sometime when you're bored in a meeting, or sitting in a funeral/church/memorial service, and you think you'll simply die
if the whole thing doesn't end soon, allow your mind to wander to the names listed on this page. I guarantee you, it'll take you right back to Grade 8, just as if you never left...(and your ass will probably get kicked out when you start laughing uncontrollably in the midst of it all).

Man, this winter is getting long.

Saturday night in the O-N-E...

Since Gary Bettman and the player's union can't seem to get it together, I decided to get my hockey fix by attending the UNO game this past Saturday. The home team lost. But it's all good--since UNO has only had a hockey program for six years or so, they did quite well to lose by only one goal! The group of kids seated behind us was hilarious, and despite our having nosebleed seats, the view was great.

In the event you think I have an obsession with the number 'one,' UNO = University of Nebraska-Omaha, and O-N-E = Omaha, NE(braska).

My main purpose in going was to accidentally-on-purpose, bump into the world's hottest sportswriter, and to check out the Qwest Center (as I'd never seen the arena before). Well, one outta two ain't bad (he wasn't in the press box, but his bloated, insufferable colleague however, was). The Qwest Center wasn't bad, but some of the personnel working there are power tripping kinda hard...

(It's Omaha. I've come to expect running into a few assholes in nearly every situation).

Star Trippin'

The whole 'cult of celebrity' thing is a strange concept. There are any number of people of public interest, whom I've had the pleasure to meet, and/or drool over. The odd thing about them being, that if I knew them before they got huge, watching their ascent to stardom is nice, but it doesn't change my relationship to them. To me, they're still the same people they were before the developed a following. And in truth, it seems curious to find total strangers obsessing over their status.

As to those I star-worship from afar, I hope never to meet them in person, in a meaningful way. My fantasies of who and what they're about are way more exciting than mundane reality. (I'm still recovering from the whole Santa/Easter Bunny/Tooth Fairy thing).

All that said, I present to you two of my 'famous' kin. First, my cousin Deborah, who has devoted her adult life to the performing arts. She attended university, got an undergraduate and graduate degree in sociology, with very high marks, and decided she liked the smell of the grease paint and roar of the crowd a lot more. She has performed, composed, sang, danced, and worked with George Duke, Kenny Rogers, Lionel Richie, Dweezil and Ahmet Zappa, and casts of thousands more. And yesterday, she phoned to tell us about this joint she's involved in with film director Aaron Baldwin and photographer Bill Jones. So I decided to give her some pub, right here, on my obscure weblog. (She's the one in the middle). To learn more about the project, click on "Hollywood in Black."

Famous relative number two is my cousin Butch, whom I have known since, well--forever. We would spend summers together, hanging out, visiting other relatives, and discussing music of all kind. He was determined to become a professional musician, no matter how many headaches he triggered (in others) by practising the sax. And it actually paid off--he's been a working musician for most of his adult life, played with a lot of Big, Important, Recognizable acts, and even has his own website promoting his many talents. Read all about him!

(N.B.: Butch is the one who isn't Sting.)

There are others I could hype, but I don't want to come off as too well-connected, so I'll discuss those peeps for another time. Meanwhile, do me a favor, and don't start hitting me up for tickets, or laminates, free CDs, or autographs. The most I promise is embarassing stories from our respective "Wonder Years"...

Useless.

In the event anybody out there knows this guy "Dave" who works at Keith's BP Station at 90th & Fort in Omaha, you have my deepest condolences. This guy is as useful as tits on a bull. He's so inept, he'd fuck up a wet dream. He's pudgy, has lousy hygiene, and whines incessantly. He has such lousy social skills, that he shouldn't be wasting his time in the 'service' industry. Instead, I recommend he try working in the civil service. Stupidity like his is genuinely appreciated by the US Postal Service.

What an asshole.