Thursday, August 25, 2011

"You know, my astrologer says that Virgos are subject to cosmic boredom."

Well friends, here we are once again under the sign of Virgo, my earthly solar Master.  With moon in Cancer, my wet & wild watery Mistress?  It's like laying naked in the mud at Woodstock, waiting for Jefferson Airplane to greet the morning.  Or not.

But back to the Quote...I am marginally amused by those who claim to know yours truly; that I am easily bored.  Or that I get bored with stuff quickly and then move on.  NOT TRUE!  I can honestly say that I haven't felt a state of boredom since my teen years or perhaps moments in a math classroom.  I am never bored.  Impatient, yes.  Quite often.  Frustrated also at times.  But NEVER bored.  This will sound SO POMPOUS, but to me, boredom is an air or attitude of the uninspired.  To be bored is to be boring oneself.  It means a definite lack of creative spirit and if that isn't SO POMPOUS 2 ("BIGGER THAN THE ORIGINAL!" so sez Murray Grope of the Brea Shop Fondler, your guide for Orange County Entertainment), than let's agree upon this: that it is definitely the domain of the unenthusiastic.

That's right folks!  The SECRET INGREDIENT in every box of ENTHUSIASM is...N2ZSM.  Created by the early alchemists.  Distilled through the ages.  Sought after by the Knights Templar.  Hoarded by the Walkyrians.  Recently plundered from the archives of Babylon.  Now in vaults in Wyoming.  And available in easy suppository capsule as daily used by Dick Cheney.  It is the ELIXIR VITAE!

Coveted by the Ancients...available to only a Privileged Few (the upper 4%), this modern miracle is now YOU!

Call the number on your screen.  Operators are standing by or getting bi.  BUT WAIT...!  If you order in the next ten minutes...YOU WILL HAVE ORDERED IN THE NEXT TEN MINUTES!!!

ACT NOW!  ("To be or not to be. That is the question. Whether 'tis noble to suffer the slings and arrows of outrageous fortune.  Or to wear the soiled toupees of forgotten anchors, or uh.... LINE!")

Where's my credit card?

Hold on.  I'm getting sort of bored with this program.  That's the problem with late night TV.  Maybe there's something on The Hitler Channel.  Who designed Goebbell's suits.  Nazi lapels.  Trousers of the Gestapo.  And shoulder pads of the S.S.  Archie in the Bunker.

What's on E (the only cable entertainment channel inspired by a rave drug)?

Oh, look.  It's Pop Singer Sybil Janus of the band Spliff Personality and the Shapeshifters.  I think that's Elvis Costello on her right.  He's also a Virgo.  In fact, today's his birthday.  On her left, I'm not too sure who that is.  Either some failed DJ or Lady Gaga before her operation (he was Laddie Dada then, sometimes only known as Gaga).  "Lah dee da da dah!"

Who cares?  Change the channel.  G4?  Oh no, more games.  Boring.  What's the channel between E and G4?

Oh yeah. F. U.

(What happened to all those Extenze ads?  Combine them with David Cronenberg's film of nearly the same name.  And oh dear!  Not a pretty concept.)

But I digress...

Wednesday, August 10, 2011

"Baby you can drive my car."

Hello kats and kittens.  Sorry for the month long delay.  After seeing the photo I posted of yours truly with that interesting man...I knew I needed a tune-up.  A samurai and a friar.  A nip and tuck.  And a little hebrew dutch homeland.  A re-JEW van nation.  "Are there any groups I haven't offended yet?"  Getting old is nasty.  I needed some sincere pampering.  As Bette Davis said in between murdering husbands, "Old age is not for sissies" or something butch like that.  I knew it was time to visit the fat farm.  La Bob Costa.  The spa of the stars.  Run by Fraulein Doktor.  Hers and himmlers.  Let the years peel away...

It was worth the time and expense.  Madame Blavatsky gave me a full body rub.  The medium IS the massage.  I received the monkey ball injections (please don't tell PETA...I've recently become a member).  Also the yak sperm facials.  Plus the bo tox derek.  I'm a NEW MAN!

So what else should a less than potent, but mentally rejuvenated alpha male do to thwart a mid-wife crisis?  BUY A NEW CAR!  Yes, sir!  There is no better way to scream to the faceless masses, that...I AM IMPOTENT, yet I drive a NEW, INTIMIDATING fossil fueled vehicle, that I will scare you upon the roads . Let me make up for my physical, mental and spiritual shortcomings, by OVER COMPENSATING with this hyper-sized metal machine.

Well, I tried to avoid some of that bit by getting a car that fits with my persona and philosophy.  Astute viewers of this page have already noted that in my lifetime, I have owned 3 white cars ("los trios autos blancos"), plus a red car that was a wedding gift from my mother-in-law.  I had to get another white car.  And there it is...!  A Rolls-Canardly!  Rolls down one hill...Canardly get up the next!  ("Taa-dah!")

Please note in the photo that the car is small.  I've always driven small cars.  Confidence.  Nothing more need be said.  And eco-friendly.  Foot power.  A high brow hybrid.

Oh, and as the foto reveals...there are the results of my recent spa visit.  Trying to avoid obvious vanity...but I REALLY do think I look younger.  I got rid of the hippie, I am Gandalf hair.  Why would I want that?  And the wardrobe?  You don't think the MAD MEN look is cool?  Retro-fifties, lets bring back the black-list and tie.  Bongos are in the trunk.  Or boot, as the British would say.  And with my little white car...this boot is made for walking.