Saturday, October 28, 2006
Saturday Snippets and Snipes + Twisted Linguistics
There's a wild wind blowing through these mountains today. With grey skies and howling winds, it's a perfect day to kick back with today's lineup of scary movies on the SciFi channel. Old ones; classics that can scare the bejesus out of you while leaving the worst of the gore to the imagination -- not that horrid slasher stuff. I don't see how people watch some of that bloody junk. Or why they would want to. Or how some people aren't irredeemably warped by it. It all boils down to personal tastes, I guess.
If any of you read over at Rex's Pub the story about that gruesome New Orleans French Quarter murder, you might be interested to hear that it's back in the news. It's now being featured in Quarter tours for the tourists. Sheesh. If you didn't hear about it, it was truly horrific. A man killed his girlfriend in an apartment above a Voodoo shop in the French Quarter. Apparently, dead wasn't dead enough for him. He dismembered her and cooked her head and limbs, leaving the torso in the refrigerator. Leaving the grisly pots of parts on the stove, he then went out and jumped to his death from a hotel roof.
From "Time," Pink Floyd
The tolling of the iron bell,
Calls the faithful to their knees,
To hear the softly spoken magic spells.
From "Time Waits For No One," Mick Jagger & Keith Richards (The Rolling Stones)
Yes, star crossed in pleasure the stream flows on by,
Yes, as were sated in leisure, we watch it fly,
And time waits for no one, and it won't wait for me.
I'm thinking about Time because the time changes again tonight. It's the end of Daylight Saving Time, and we set the clock back an hour before going to bed tonight. I hate Daylight Saving Time -- loathe it, revile it, despise it with a passion. It's -- it's unnatural. Twice a year, we have a time change to contend with. Around the time my internal clock finally acclimates to the change, it's time to change again. The time is what it is. It's absurd to mess with it, if you ask me.
I have a question for the Beta Blogger people. You know when you log in, there's this little box to check that says "Remember Me"? Well, why bother to check it?! It's senile. It remembers nothing. I'm having to log in every second or third time I access the site. Fix it, please, because it's annoying the crap out of me. Trust me, that is never a good thing.
And, what would the Saturday before Halloween be without a teensy little Storytime With Twisted Linguistics?
Today's cast of stars and extras:
neosynephron eg: authetnicity
One dark and stormy night, a cocain adicted movie motle lay in the octanganal room where he was held captive and screamed at the seeling.
"How am I supposed to be seeling movie tickets when I'm locked up in here?!" he lamented. "Bring me a Coke!"
"Shut up," replied an aparnetly disembodied voice, "and give me fifty sit-ups. And no Cokes for you from now on." Since the motle could see no one, he figiured his room was wired to recive Voices From Beyond.
"I'm hungry!" the motle complained.
"Someone will bring you some neosynephron egs after you've done the treadmill for half an hour."
"Are they real egs?" the motle wondered aloud.
"Don't worry about their authetnicity," The Voice said. "They're healthy for you, no fat, no calories. Just eat them. You'll be glad you had them about halfway through your 2-mile run."
"I don't like exercise," the motle whined. "I don't udertand. Why am I here?"
"Your etnicity is in question," The Voice explained. "See, you may be possessed by a Ling rather than a Cive twice removed. You're getting a real deal here -- spa, gym, and exorcism. Also, you are suspected of being a neosyne who hasn't read Nora Ephron. And you place too much faith in Cokes and not enough in Tang. You waste too much time writing free press releases to plug your mindless drivel. People think there is something wrong with you and they took up a collection to bring you here in hopes of saving your soul. Plus, you need to lose a few pounds in order to save your butt as well. So, be quiet and move a little to your left so the holy water can drip on your head. I am going out to the barn to check the cow's uders. I will perhaps bring you back some milk to go with your egs."
"This is kidnapping!" the motle protested. "I will see you adicted for this! Your tangy orange butt will fry for this, you -- you October gorilla!"
"Oh," said The Voice. "Boo. Boo-hoo. Oh yeah, and out, out, damned demon. Or whatever."
Lastly on this Saturday, please send your good thoughts Roxan's way. Her mother passed away this morning.