Saturday, October 16, 2010


Waaaaay back when your not-so-humble narrator was a young buck, I was helping a community theater celebrate their 25th anniversary.  We were singing all the show tunes they had performed over the years with the different musicals from Fiddler on the Roof, Oklahoma, South Pacific, yada yada yada.  One of the songs was "Whatever Lola Wants" from Damn Yankess, and it was performed by a woman who had been with that theater for some time.

If you've ever done a show at a community theater, you'll know the type.  Not old but not young, maybe in her thirties, has a family and kids, grew up acting and thinking she was going to be in Hollywood when she graduated but never quite got there.  Not "pretty" enough to be in film, but more than pretty enough to be on stage.  And she had talent.

I can't remember her name, but she would always come in dressed up in Midwest mother frumpy clothing. You could tell she had a figure, but she never put it on display.

And then the performance came.  The guys did "Nothing like a Dame" from South Pacific.  I did a duet with another woman, "Anything you can do" from Annie Get Your Gun, and then this woman walked on after us and transformed herself into a different creature.  From the opening notes, she stopped walking, and damn near slithered up to the microphone, as if every joint in her body had just been given about two or three new directions they could bend.  She didn't take the microphone, she just touched it with her fingers and leaned into it, with this come-hither smile on her face that made every guy in the place damn near jump out of their suits.  Instead of tapping her toes or bobbing her head to the rhythm, she moved her hip.  Just one.  The other hip stayed firmly in place, which did all kinds of interesting things to her body.  And when she sang the opening lines....  "Whatever Lola wants.....  Lola gets....." every red-blooded man in that building would have begged her to want them, get them.  It was like she wasn't forcing the notes out of her mouth, they just kind of fell out onto the microphone, pushed out by the sheer volume of sexiness that was contained in this one woman's body.  It was a voice that promised every kind of pleasure under the sun, and even more under the moon, where you can shed the inhibitions that you normally hold on to.

This frumpy Midwest mom went from "Meh" to Aphrodite in about five seconds, and had every guy in the place eating from the palm of her hand, from the moment she first sang until she walked off stage, and probably well after that.  And she did it dressed in a black skirt and a blouse that wasn't opened any further than the top of her cleavage.  I think that might have been what convinced me that sex appeal has nothing to do with boobs or butts or revealing clothing.  That woman, for three minutes, was the sexiest woman on the face of the earth, period, full stop, end of story.  And it came from inside, not from her flashing skin.

The only close approximation I've been able to find for this woman is Sarah Vaughn.  But even Sarah Vaughn can't match the sheer amount of pure sex appeal that this woman put into the song.  Still....  don't watch the video, just close your eyes and listen to the song.

By the by, I was reminded of that woman at the theater because someone gave me a Sarah Vaughn CD, and when I heard the opening notes to "Lola Wants" come out of my little boombox at the shop I flashed back to her performance.  Memory is a funny thing sometimes.

Busy day V.4

You know, I don't really get the weekend off, I just don't have to work at that one building I go to all week.

Friday, October 15, 2010

Horse Apples

I've been waiting a bit before I commented on the judge who ruled that Don't Ask Don't Tell was unconstitutional.  I've pondered it a bit, I've scratched my chin, I've thought some more, and I keep coming to the same conclusion.

That judge is just another unelected, unaccountable black robed tyrant who issues judicial fiat like some aristocracy from years ago, and it's bullshit.  Nobody has a Constitutional right to serve in the military.  You have a Constitutional obligation to serve in the unregulated militia if called upon to do so.  But serving in the military isn't a right.

And now some black robed tyrant is going to open up a whole can of worms for the US military, in the pursuit of political correctness.  Hey, did anyone ask the military THEIR FUCKING OPINION?  Well yes, but our opinion doesn't mean shit when it gets in the way of social policy, right?  Fuck the military.  Fuck the troops.  They don't matter, they don't count, there's a social experiment to be performed!  They should just shut up and do what they're told!

Oh, and by the way, I'll still get arrested if I try to shower with the females.  But gay men can shower with me.  Tell me, all you oh so tolerant people out there, is that fair?  Is it fair that someone who is sexually attracted to men gets to see my naked ass, but I can't ogle the ladies?  I mean, that's what this whole deal is about, right?  FAIRNESS.  It's not FAIR that homosexuals can't serve in the military.  It's not FAIR that the military discriminates against gays.  And people with bad eyesight, and people with bad hearing, and people who are overweight, and people who have significant medical problems, but all those other groups don't carry favorite victim status and so they don't really count on the FAIRNESS scale.  What's next for the military?  Seeing-eye dogs, so that blind folks can serve as well?  Well no, that's ridiculous.  But objecting to having to bunk with someone who's sexually attracted to men?  OH MY GOD YOU HOMOPHOBIC BASTARD!  YOU KNUCKLEDRAGGING REDNECK HILLBILLY!

It's bullshit.  And it's going to cause more problems that it solves.  But who cares, right?  It's only the military, and they don't carry favorite victim status either.

Gallery. Opened.

Last night.  It was a "soft" open, which means no ribbon cutting, no fanfare, no nekkid dancing women.  That'll all come next month during the "grand" opening, which might be when Dave hits the champagne and dances around the gallery with a lampshade on his head.  

In an artistic fashion.

Thursday, October 14, 2010


If a picture is a thousand words, then this is a doctoral thesis on how my life is right now.


Wednesday, October 13, 2010

Oldies but Goodies

Saw this.

Remembered this:

Which made me remember that a friend had sent me this:

Anyone who has done Drill and Ceremony or marched in a drumline knows just how extremely hard it would be to do anything like those two vids.

Tuesday, October 12, 2010

Hey hey HEY!

I happen to like Pocatello!  We don't need a bunch of hippies moving there and smelling the place up!

Morning Run

I had grown so accustomed to running in the afternoon that I forgot the solitude of a morning run at 0530.  Nobody out on the road.  No exhaust fumes.  No cigarette smoke from people hanging out at bars, or blowing it out of their car window as you run by.

Just quiet.  It was rather nice.

Granted, most days I need the run in the afternoon, just to burn off all the stored up energy from not choking the living shit out of certain people in my office.  But still, it was a nice run this morning.

Monday, October 11, 2010

There's a reason we call them "Moonbats"

Rodger the Real King of France highlights this piece at the American Thinker by J.R. Dunn that is a patented "Must Read".

Leftists really believed that Obama embodied their moment. Obama held all the cards -- majorities in both houses, a slavish press that viewed him as no less than a godling, an enthusiastic public, even an acquiescent international establishment, overlooking a few holdouts such as Kim and Ahmadinejad. No left-of-center president has had a smoother road before him -- not FDR, not Lyndon Johnson. Yet Obama's efforts amount to utter failure -- not because of opposition from the "party of no," not because of circumstances, not because of sabotage, but because of Obama's "success" itself. He got the bills passed, guaranteed that their execution would be in the hands of extraconstitutional figures beholden only to him, and got them funded by means both legal and illegal. All of it was put into play with a smoothness that only Chicago thuggery combined with socialist chicanery could accomplish. He launched them, and they crashed, and they burned.


But today they have a problem -- several, in point of fact. The first is that the memory hole has in large part been filled in over the past decade and a half by such things as the internet and the New Media. It's no longer a simple matter to shove nationwide failures out of sight. It may not even be possible. 

The second is the fact that this time, they bet the house. They put everything down on Obama. Because it had to work. Because the third time was the charm. Because O was the messiah. And now they're sitting in the casino dead broke, without another dime to lay on the table, and through the doorway they can hear the shouts of the people whose money they embezzled.

There's more, much more, and you need to read the whole thing.  And then go buy ammo, because as much as I hope Dunn is correct, I can't say for sure that he is.  The Socialist Utopia that the Left pines for will never come about, but history shows that the Left will continue killing people in their quest to make it happen.

Buy ammo.  No, buy MORE ammo.

Sunday, October 10, 2010

Bill Whittle


Eat First

When you read just how many self identified Socialists are in our state governments, you're gonna lose your appetite.  That's a list of people at the state level who have signed a letter supporting Obamacare.

I've had Mind-Numbed Robot in my personal list for a while, but he's going on the blogroll.