Rumble In Brighton.

"I hate you. So very much."

"Well I hate you more."

"That's right, just keep smiling, sweetheart. Just you wait until this damn photo shoot is over."

"Ooooh, I'm scared. Not. You don't know me, bitch. I'll knife you while you sleep, I swear to God."

Cat Scratch Fever

Today is giveaway day, my little porkpies! Just my way way of saying thanks a million to my followers and readers and arch rivals, without you I'd be talking to myself and most of the time the voices don't answer back and that gets boring. You guys rock and/or roll. So keep following, always feel free to leave a comment, keep sending the "I don't get it" emails. A few more "You are the bane of my existence. Also, you're awesome" emails would not suck either.

So without further blabitty blah, let's get to the free crap already, GOSH. Up for your approval is this limp-wristed, dead-eyed, vintage cat planter! Or you can keep Sen-Sen in it for when the kids come over to visit because as everyone knows, kids love the Sen-Sen. (Ps. Did you know that it was marketed as "breath perfume"? Gross. That's a fail, unless by "perfume" they mean the likes of say, Aqua Velva.) I used it to hold pens by my phone, for all those phone calls I didn't get. Or you can put your weed in it, what do I care. The kitteh is a wee size at a little over 4" tall. It has some crazing and is a little dirty on the inside, but then again who isn't?





Everyone is welcome to sign up! I'll pick a name from a hat and announce the winner in a week, on the 11th. If you want in on the drawing, you can either leave a comment or send me an email to that email address over there...on the right somewhere --->. Don't leave any personal info in a comment, unless you want all the world to know your name and address. The only person who'll know that stuff is moi, so if someone does a drive-by past your house and leaves a basket of muffins, you'll know it's me. Or maybe I'll just shout pretty random and indifferent things as I drive past, like "Today is Alice Cooper's birthday!" and you'll know it's me. And also, today really is Alice Cooper's birthday. I hope he's reading this and signs up for the cat planter and wins, so I can do a drive-by past his house and shout random things.

Blue Days, Black Nights

Feb. 3 marks the 50th anniversary of the 1959 Iowa plane crash (into a cornfield of all the lame ways to go) that killed Buddy Holly, Ritchie Valens and the Big Bopper. It's hard to wrap your head around the fact that it was half a century ago. Time flies when you're having fun. (Get it- a plane joke? Time flies, like a plane? And they died, which is not fun at all, do you see the sarcasm I did there? Distasteful. I know. I should be shot. Out of a plane and into a cornfield. Hey yo! Sorry.) I guess it's better for some legends to die in their glory so we can remember them at their peak, instead of watching their decrepit aging over the years. The Big Bopper would probably look like Dom DeLuise by now and Buddy Holly like a less neurotic Woody Allen.

I was born far too late in the century (the disgusting 70's) and not into the lifetime I was meant for. (Thanks, jebus, apparently you do make mistakes. Check your inbox before my next life, dude.) So I missed being able to see acts like Buddy or Ritchie. I could leave the "meh" Big Bopper, and by the way, "Chantilly Lace" is annoying as hell, but this is a memorial so I should be, like, respectful or some crap. One memory I do have to honor these fine boys is this: One of the first movies I vividly remember seeing in the theater was La Bamba. I was almost 12 and cried like a jackass in the movie theater- the part when Bob was on the bridge and yelled "Ritchiieee". Good god. The sobbing. It was so good that I kept reminding myself that it wasn't really Ritchie, just Lou Diamond Phillips. (The same way I get lost in Dennis Quaid's portrayal of Jerry Lee Lewis. Only now that I'm all growns up, I've developed a borderline nutbag crush on him in that movie. What am I, 13? More about my pathetic and nerdy psyche on another day.)

Should you wanna party like it's 1959 and are in the Lubbock, Texas area, stop by the Buddy Holly Center where there will be exhibits, discussions and a guided tour all day fo' free on Feb. 2nd and 3rd.




Everything's bigger in Texas.

But for an even more significant Holly/Valens/Bopper outing, the Surf Ballroom in Clear Lake, Iowa (the area of the plane crash) is having a big shindig to honor the boys, complete with a collection of memorabilia & personal items of the trio on display and a pretty rockin' lineup of acts set to perform like Wanda Jackson, Tommy Allsup, Bobby Vee and plenty others. I've heard tickets have long since been sold out, but you can still visit the crash site and wear black socks with sandals and leave behind some retarded hand written note on construction paper with glitter and take pictures like the dorky tourist that you are.