Blue Comet Blues

So my friend Ang says that Fergie has a song out with a clip of Little Richard's "The Girl Can't Help It" in it. ExSQUEEZE me, asphinctersayswhat? Little faux rapper Fergie. From the Black Eyed Peas. Sampling Little Richard. Not to mention the Peas sample Misirlou on another song, but that just proves my point, which I SWEAR I'm getting to. I'm afraid Fergie, you are now ON THE LIST. Now, if you go for that kind of music then zippity doo dah and I say to you GOOD DAY SIR but it's not my cup of tea, nor ever will be, not even if you force me to listen to it Clockwork Orange-style. I'm so embarrassed for her, but mostly for the young listening audience who have no idea not only what real music is, but who recorded it (and the movie it hails from in this case). I am hatin' on Fergie for not only stealing really good 50's music and forcing it to mingle with her own, but also dressing vintage-esque lately...which by the way, you'll notice many a young skanky starlet has a "vintage phase" for about a month or 2 until the oh-so-wackiness of it wears off and they move on to their next fashion phase. No fair Fergie and Young Skanks, no fair. Oh yeah, I got my hate on. But all's I will say is this. SAMPLING MUSIC IS NOT CREATIVE. Dumbasses. I realise this sounds like I'm a 70 year old woman complaining about kids these days and their crazy jazz music, but that's how I roll. And STAY OFF OF MY LAWN.

For the record, let me show you where my blog name came from and NO IT WASN'T FROM FERGIE, and don't MAKE me pull this car over kids, or I will reach back there and slap your eyeballs into next week. For your viewing and listening pleasure, I give you "The Girl Can't Help It" from 1956. Just watch it for about 52 seconds and then you can carry on with your day, wondering what my problem is.

Music To Be Murdered By

Shopping online for something specific can be so stab-inducing in a way that I cannot describe. Oh wait yes I can- it makes me go berserker from all the stupid out there flooding my shopping experience with the crazy-making. I was on a quest for a funny little bowling shirt for myself of the real vintage variety and WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE, DADDY-O's? Seriously, bowling shirts with freaking martini glasses or Elvis or *enter any other 50's cliche image here* is a CRIME of fashion, a toilet flush and a bitch slap to the vintage world. Not that I get my hate on with Daddy-O's, because they do sell some covetable dresses and are in fact making a living peddling their wares and props to them for living the American dream. But in reality, WHAT mafioso type in the 50's and 60's EVER wore bowling shirts when they were not in fact, oh I don't know, BOWLING?! And when in fact, did they ever wear bowling shirts with FLAMES AND DICE on them?! Oh, my heart will most certainly NOT go on.


Don't hate me because I'm an Italian Cliche.


Because I'm a loser and don't have HBO and have to watch HBO shows like the Sopranos when they finally come to TNT on basic cable 3 years after the show is over, I'm only now discovering the wrongness of mob fashion and James Gandolfini, you are now on MY LIST. I blame you for brainwashing today's youth into thinking that Today's Modern Mafia dresses even remotely cool and old school when they, in fact, wear VELOUR JUMPSUITS. Call me crazy, but I don't think JLo had you guys in mind with her line of track suits. I do wish TMM would take a cue from the Sopranos and their faux rat pack-esque style and help the vintage community out and actually start rocking shark skin suits and panel shirts again and REPRESENT. Don't you joiks remember Dean Martin and 2 tone shoes and Banlon and the Cool Gangster Lingo? And for the love of god, WHO WILL THINK OF THE PINKY RINGS?


Just say no to repros, kids. Once you get hooked, there's no going back. Do it up right, in real sleazeball fashion. Check out some shirts from yours truly at Fast Eddie's Retro Rags.





This one's coming soon, hold your horses you filthy animals.

Bring On The Dancing Horses

Hello, my name is Kim and I am an Anglophile. It's been 3 hours since I watched the Young Ones and so far so good, though I'm saying "wanker" more than any American really should without REALLY sounding like a wanker and everyone thinks I'm a dork but damn you Vyvyan, damn you straight to hell for being so downright shaggable. I'm pretty sure my love of British culture started in my pre-pubescent years growing up in the 80's when you couldn't swing a bag of cats without running into someone wearing a Smiths tee, or at least the really cool high school teenagers did, the ones I envied and SO wanted to be when I grew up. And I don't mean the Misunderstood Artsy Goth Kids in Bauhaus Tees And Fishnets either, but the girls who knew all the cool college radio bands and thought John Cusack Will Save the World in His Trench Coat. Which he probably will, but that's neither here nor there, and I'm pretty sure he's an Anglophile himself and now Lloyd Dobler, you are even more adorable in my book. What's with the British bands kicking all sorts of ass in the 80's? Can you say TACO? Come to think of it, I'm not sure if Taco was from the UK or not. I think maybe he was actually German, or maybe his pink wig is making me think he was German, not that wearing a pink wig is necessarily a German thing and I should probably do some fact-checking before making blasphemous statements about Germany's #1 hot commodity, second to David Hasselhoff.

It's really no wonder that so many of us Gen X-ers are screwed up, jaded or in group therapy, since we're the ones who've suffered the Cinderella Syndrome more than any generation. I totally made up Cinderella Syndrome. It's from growing up in the 80's watching too many Terribly Romantic Comedies, where the Sensitive Boy saves the Sad Lonely Girl complete with a cliched Ultra Dramatic End Scene With British Song For Emphasis. Isn't every girl STILL waiting for her own romantic comedy scene with a song from INXS playing in the background? I know *I* am, and I've been with the same guy for 400 years and he is a DAMN LUCKY MAN, so I remind him every day. If ever there was a time for Great Britain to kick America's ass it would have been then, brainwashing us into submission with hit songs from the Pet Shop Shop Boys, but you MISSED YOUR CHANCE, ENGLAND. What gives, conspiracy theorists? Notes of interest, and also because I am a fan of list-making:

1. Sixteen Candles. 'Member the scene at the end with Jake Ryan? Of course you do. I'll give you a minute to collect yourselves from all the sighing. 4 words: If You Were Here...And now I'm all verklempt thinking about that part. I will give myself a topic and talk amongst myself to get over it.

2. Pretty in Pink: If You Leave. Also chock full of other UK dreaminess.

3. Valley Girl: I Melt With You. Come ON, one of the best songs ever. Lucky for you though, you can hear it every 10 seconds on the Taco bell commercial.

4. Breakfast Club: Don't You (Forget About Me)

5. Say Anything: In Your Eyes. You can't say "cliche" fast enough. But still dreamy, no?


Is that a boom box in your hands or are you just happy to see me?

Beat It

Late last night I was outside in my yard in the dark doing something incredibly Mischievous and Secretive (taking out the trash) when I saw out of the corner of my eye a *something* that made *some kind of noise*. If this happened during the day it wouldn't have been so freaky, because then it's generally crazy out there and noisy and the traffic and the oy vey. But at night it's a different world out there and every dirtbag and scuzzbucket (hello, Police Academy 2) is walking the street talking to themselves and doing god knows what. Not saying that I live in a bad area, but it ain't no Little House on the Prairie. Pa didn't tag the building in the vacant lot next door, did he? Which I think would be great fun if you were walking down the street and you saw "Ingalls Family Represent!" spray painted on the overpass. And there are actually sneakers hanging from the telephone lines outside. Really, sneakers?! I thought you only saw that crap on Terribly Cliched 70's Sitcoms in the Inner City like Good Times or Welcome Back Kotter. I mean really, who throws sneakers over the line these days?! And I checked. They aren't lame-yet-wonderful vintage 70's kicks either, but those horrid white vinyl ones with velcro that your mom bought from Kmart in the 80's thinking you'd like them, only to find that only the "poor kids" wore those and now you want to die of embarrassment, thanks mom, you ruined my life! Yeah, THOSE kind of sneakers.

But I digress. The noise in the yard, right. So I'm thinking, a cat...dog...bunny... Nope. It was a freaking SKUNK. Really, a skunk?! I mean really, this isn't the area or place for a skunk to be all hanging out. And IS there a place for a skunk to hang out? A skunk habitat? That would be a gross place to work and who loves skunks so much that they'd want to hang out with them on the farm all day? Freaks. So I froze in place, because apparently in my mind they can't see you if you stand still. But he looked at me and I looked at him and I was holding my breath out of sheer scaredy-catness and did I mention he was about 3 feet from me? And what was running through my head was all those things you learned in elementary school "stop, drop and roll!", "just say no!", "don't be a fool, stay in school!"...and nothing was getting me through this Very Tragic Moment In My Life and there is no Lifetime movie about encountering evil skunks. So then I get mad, like who do you think YOU are skunk? And my fightin' defenses kick in and I'm thinking that the stripes on a skunk are pretty cool actually, and perhaps Cruella deVille was right.



Imagine my excitement to find this sucker~ it's a PIN that has PERFUME inside and I had the *same one* when I was a kid in the 80's and I thought I was fan-CEE. It smelled god awful, but think how cool you'd feel, wearing it on your Michael Jackson tee shirt (I still have it!), flipping it open and rubbing your finger over that little circle of concentrated evil.

You can buy it from JewelsByDesign. You'll smell like 6 bucks.

Road to Nowhere

About this time every stinking year the same thing happens, because I am a creature of habit and spontaneity has no place in my life and I am probably too uptight for my own good and so what if I happen to love a well laid-out (I said well laid) plan?! What happens, see, is the first few days of spring where it's actually warm and sunny and pleasant I get to making Big Summer Plans. I seem to forget how lazy I actually am and think that going places this summer is a Great Idea. It won't be until about June that I say oh riiight, like THAT'S going to happen-- what the HELL was I thinking, going on a family vacation, SURE. Sitting in a kiddie pool in the backyard full of mosquitos and drinking a rum and coke in a plastic tiki cup is JUST AS GOOD as going to Hawaii, you ingrateful jerks. Now swim!

These are the places I'm a-hankerin' to visit, full of pure kitsch goodness and who needs a tropical getaway anyway, when the 7 Wonders of the World Mini Golf awaits you (and I totally stole that from Overboard, the best Goldie Hawn movie ever). THESE kinds of pure americana are MY kind of vacation, so 50's, so wonderful! Don't get me wrong, Pennsylvania has some pretty kickin' tourist attractions with plenty of kitsch factor, but sometimes you just have to get the hell outta dodge. And why is that all the cool stuff is in "middle america" anyway? Like in all those square states that I can't ever remember the names of or all those long states that start with "I"? No fair, Missouri and Indiana, no fair. And have I ever mentioned that I LOVE MAKING LISTS?! And also, I can't promise that this won't be an ongoing list in the future. In fact, I promise this will be an ongoing list in the future, because I am obsessed with these kinds of places. Weird America, how I love you so.

1. The Corn Palace . A palace. Made of corn. The next time you find yourself in South Dakota (why you'd even be in SD, I don't know), go and check out the place. They change the murals on the outside of the building every year- murals made ENTIRELY OUT OF CORN. Awesome.

2. Giant Things Across the US. Such as :

World's largest badger in Wisconsin. That's gross, crawling out of the ground, Night of the Living Dead style...in Kimspeak that means freaking AWESOME.


Largest ketchup bottle. They spell it "catsup" which we ALL KNOW IS WRONG, ILLINOIS.


Largest pink flamingo. In Wisconsin. Seriously, Wisconsin?!


Places that I have a better chance of getting to this summer, close enough but far enough away:

1. Gettysburg, Pennsylvania. A very cute little town. My Old Man is getting his masters in history next year so good for him and his nerdiness, vintage clothing shops, old pubs and haunted stuff for me. Sweet.

2. Hershey Park in Hershey of course, dumbass. The town REALLY DOES smell like chocolate as you drive though it and the lamposts all have giant hershey kisses on top of them. Can't make this stuff up.



3. Hot Dog Johnny's in New Jersey. So it's not a vacation, but damn if they don't have the best fried hot dogs in the cutest little roadside stand- and hot dogs skeeve me out, so that's saying something. And food stands can be vacation-like, can they not? Like that Total Moron with the bleached-out hair on the Food Network, he has a show about food places across the US. My Great Ideas are always stolen by Total Morons, what gives?



Things I'll most likely end up doing this summer:

Going to the local car show, because it's 10 minutes away, going to the Garlic Fest and then the Greek Fest, because they are a couple miles away, swimming in my friend's pool, because she is 1 block away and sitting on my porch drinking cheap beer because it is 10 feet away. Wish you were here!

Sweet Little Sixteen

Last night I *finally* got around to renting the newest Harry Potter movie, because I am fully aware of my nerdiness and will raise you one Lord of the Rings trilogy that I am watching on TNT right now even though I own the freaking boxed set, because that is HOW A NERD ROLLS and I am loyal to my geek-status movies. The thing I don't get is how these wizard kids and elves with magic never use their powers for personal gain. What's with the morals and the "do the right thing"-iness? Say WHA, now?! I'd be all OVER those powers. Sure I may save a kitten out of a tree and push a guy out of the way from a falling piano from the 6th floor, but damn you, child bearing hips, damn you straight to hell. Zap! Big hips gone. Electric bill or gas bill- which one to pay THIS month? Zap! Money, money, money, muuuh-naaay! I'd have the power to fly, to read thoughts, to be invisible, to be filthy stinking rich and occasionally use it to be good. But probably not that often.

I'd also use powers to have superawesome memory-- so's I don't have to rely on stinking myspace to tell me when my friends' birthdays are- JULIE AND JEN I'M TALKING TO YOU. So here's a blatant shout-out to my friends whose birthdays I missed because I'm apparently the worst friend ever and am too busy sewing my evil villain suit to remember things that don't include world domination.

You can snatch this vintage 30's coat from Julie at Damn Good Vintage a wicked awesome coat that has an old-timey villain feel to it, like the superbad librarian-in-disguise on old-timey England who will give you a firm scolding for talking too loud, meanwhile she's got a rubber catsuit on underneath for her other PT job as dominatrix. Or whatever.



And I'd also have powers to sew like a FIEND, because I would bang out (I said bang out) stupid awesome ensembles in minutes and never wear the same thing twice (damn you Paris Hilton), like the dress on this vintage 40's pattern from Jen at MomsPatterns. I'd ixnay the boob pockets, and make the hip pockets extra big. Where else will my flask and laser gun go?

Harlem Nocturne

As everyone had heard by now, Charleton Heston passed away last week. Not *new* news at this point, but sadly I haven't read much written about him, no stories on CNN or hell, not even on craptastic Entertainment Tonight. Why not? I think he was one of those guys that was too misunderstood for his own good and that reputation preceded him. True, he seemed gruff and a little scary and he would STILL kick your ass even from his grave. Like the mean ass uncle you only see at family reunions who feels it's his duty to tell you that you've put on weight and your job will never be good enough and that HIS son is graduating from College University (finally after 6 years) with a Phys Ed degree, meanwhile junior is so far in the closet he's trying on his sister's heels, but you would NEVER tell your uncle the truth about his son, because family just doesn't do that, so you just let Uncle Chuck ramble on about how you are just not as great as you could be. He's got a rep to be like THAT. Also, run-ons are great.



Now, I don't give a rat's about politics- his OR yours. Love him or hate him, at least he took PART in something he dug- not like all the useless mouth breathers in Hollywood today. Did you know that he was a WW11 vet? Did you know that he went to acting school after the war with his GI Bill money that he went into the military to earn? Did you know he was at the civil rights march in 1963? No you didn't, because all we know him for is his politics and one-liners. And a few little known movies, like Ben-Hur, Touch of Evil and Planet of the Apes, but who ever heard of THOSE? There is no denying he was a legend of his generation and THAT is always sad, when a legend dies. Because every time a Great Actor dies, that means there's one more actor/singer/sex tape star/ skank in Hollywood to take his place. I'm talking to YOU BritneyLindseyParisNicole. What have YOU done great in your lifetime? Oh that's right, nothing. What Great Actors will WE be left with, when all the truly good ones are gone?!


Gratuitous Monkey Shot.

So don't cry for me, Charlton Heston. If you could see me right now, I'm spilling my Jack and Coke onto the ground for you, homie. And if you know me, you'll know that THAT is something you can't pry from my cold, dead hands.