Edith Prickley for VP

Edith Prickley
Edith Prickley
Who's Sarah Palin?

Who's Sarah Palin?

I’ll admit it. When I first saw Sarah Palin up on the stage with John McCain, I thought that he must have lost his ever-lovin’ mind. It proved he was a loose cannon. But now that Palin has re-energized the Religious Right, I’m ascared. This wild move makes Obama look like a stick-in-the-mud so now he’s got to one-up McCain. The only way he can do this is to have Biden “back out” of the VP slot. Obama’s only prayer now is to bring on a woman so charismatic that she cancels Palin out. A woman so outrageous that Palin pales in comparison.

So if Barrack has any political savvy, while the GOP parties in Minneapolis, he’ll be out on the front lines passing out water after Hurricane Gustav hits the Louisiana coastline. But he won’t be alone.

Nope. Edith Prickley, the one time television station manager, will be there right alongside him, making with the wisecracks, slapping survivors on the back. Playing her harmonica. It would be a brilliant strategic move and demolish Palin’s small time credentials.

But would Obama and Prickley be able to work together? He totally dissed Hillary Clinton because he was afraid she’d outshine him. But Prickley’s a different kind of player. She managed to work with Guy Cabellero, the notoriously cranky station owner of SCTV. And she handled Johnny LaRue’s alcoholism like Lola Delaney (“Doc, I don’t think Little Sheba’s coming home no more…“) did in Come Back, Little Sheba. Prickley’s a pragmatist.

Are you listening, Barack? Don’t let their party be the only one who’s not afraid to show a little animal skin.

Prickley Playing Her Harmonica

Prickley Playing Her Harmonica

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Published in: on August 31, 2008 at 11:26 am  Leave a Comment  
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Educators + Federales = Ederales

I just knew when I heard the news that it had happened in Texas first. I mean, this is the great state that made cheerleading so competitive that Wanda Holloway, mother of a high school cheerleader, wanted to take out the mother of another cheerleader on the squad. Houston is responsible for David Koresh, the Branch Davidian maniac. And then there’s Dubya. But we’re not taking all the credit for him since he does have elitist New England roots.

What am I talking about? I’m talking about having Texas teachers in the classroom — armed and dangerous. The tiny school district of Harrold — sensing danger because they are so close to the Oklahoma border — became the first in the WORLD to enact a policy which is going to allow teachers to carry a firearm. Of course they will be required to have training and a permit. We can all feel better about that.

I can see it now. There will be the usual rules posted in the classrooms. Stay in your seat. Keep hands and feet to yourself. No food or gum in the classroom. Be respectful to your classmates.

The consequences will be slightly altered. Warning. Time out. Phone call home. Weapon drawn. “Bubba, I done talked to you about them baggy drawers.”

Published in: on August 18, 2008 at 6:37 pm  Leave a Comment  
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Chupacabra!

Chupacabra

Wheatstacks In Summer With Chupacabra!


We already know what the rest of America thinks about Texans. We either live in trailers or mansions but we all vote Republican. We all sound as intelligent as George Bush — “the economy is bad because Wall Street got drunk.” We think the jackalope is real. So sound the alarm.

Chupacabra is coming for our women and cheeldren! Or maybe our nannies and keeds. But he’s out there. My granddaddy used to keep us in line with stories about chupacabra. “He’ll bite two holes in your neck, stick a couple of big long Sonic straws in there, and drain the blood right out of yore body. You won’t be nothing but a set of tinkling bone chimes when he gets done with you.”

We’ve just only recently recovered from the killing of a monkey on a ranch in the Hill Country and now we’re trying to explain the chupacabra that a sheriff’s deputy got on tape. His convincing video and audio tape from the edge of some farm land in Cuero County has just been released to the public:

Deputy: What in the hell is that thang? It don’t have no fur on it. I think it’s a coyote or a jacked up weiner dog. But with a donkey’s head. (Pauses, then hits the gas) I won’t catch it if I don’t go at least 90. (Dust cloud obscures the animal and Deputy radios in) You won’t believe this! I just saw a chupacabra!

So scientists can continue their skepticism over chupacabra. We think he’s real and he’s here to stay. The clarity of the 1 pixel dusty webcam proves it. However, I was a little disappointed that chupacabra looked like a short, fat dog and not the birdman from Jeepers Creepers.

Published in: on August 16, 2008 at 12:29 am  Comments (3)  
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Sister Bernadette Has Vision of Bettie Page

Is there anyone out there who’s never heard of the infamous pin-up model, Bettie Page? She was a big deal in the 1950s, probably because she tweaked — well, more than just tweaked — the McCarthy era self-righteousness. But I’m getting way ahead of myself here.

While I was in Vegas, one of my thin friends — we’ll call her Jill — wanted me to go on a shopping trip with her. We ended up in the Miracle Mile Shopping Mall, right there attached to Planet Hollywood. As we wandered through the mall, I wondered — where are the stores that carry the Big Girl stuff? Then it suddenly dawned on me. This is Planet Hollywood, baby — they don’t want no Big Girls ’round here. But I can carry Jill’s stuff while she tries on dresses. I’ll amuse myself some other way while she’s trying on clothes.

We hit all these young and trendy places and Jill didn’t like anything she had found so far. And then we saw it — the Bettie Page store. The first thing I noticed was that all the dresses were classic. It didn’t take any imagination at all to see them on Audrey Hepburn or Jayne Mansfield. The second thing I noticed was that they had normal sizes from XS-XL but they didn’t look like anything I could fit into. Which was cool since I’m not that crazy about wearing dresses anyway. So I wandered around the perimeter of the store.

I started seeing stuff like fishnet stockings and stiletto heeled shoes. T-shirts with Bettie Page in Sado mode. I kept seeing guys wander into the store — by themselves, no girlfriends. I couldn’t figure it out.

And then I saw why. A flat-screen tv up on the wall was playing a continuous loop of old grainy black and white films. Of bondage scenes and spanking scenes. And then what appeared to be a sex scene between two women but part of it had been digitally altered so that it wasn’t graphic. At that point, I decided that I shouldn’t be standing there staring just like the men so I went to the other side of the store to peruse the t-shirts again.

But then, a few minutes later, I was gawking at the screen again. Totally mesmerized by those images of Bettie Page. From then on, no matter where I was in the store, I couldn’t look away. No wonder Jill asked me several times if I really liked the dress she picked out. I was in shock. Like Sister Bernadette having a vision of the Not-So-Virgin Mary.

Here’s one of the tamer Bettie Page SM pics that I found. I can’t help but think of SCTV when I look at it. It reminds me of a Catherine O’Hara character outside her trailer saying something like, “Yep, they found my Bill in there. Bound up like a pig with a rubber ball stuffed in his mouth. Cryin’ like a baby.”

Gretchen Mol as Betty Page

Gretchen Mol as Betty Page in The Notorious Betty Page

And check out this Bettie Page interview — http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j0Ynlp7sxZ

This interview has tame photos and comments from Bettie’s pin-up days. If you want to see the underground Bettie, you’ll have to YouTube yourself…

Published in: on August 15, 2008 at 2:42 pm  Comments (2)  
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Baby’s Head Soft Spot #4 — The Winds of War

Pug's Dress Whites

Pug

‘Pug’ Henry’s Dress Whites

There “it” was — the memorabilia of a lifetime — in a hotel room somewhere in Planet Hollywood. Behind glass, I couldn’t touch it. But I laid my hand up there like Ma Joad would have if she’d palmed Tom in the visitor’s pen. Like mime Patty and mime Cathy touching hands in the opening credits of The Patty Duke Show.

There I was — in a time warp from 1983 — watching television from my papasan chair, behind a locked bedroom door, a black window shade, and my faux bamboo Bali Ha’i blinds.

“It” was the naval uniform — albeit petite looking and stained — that Victor ‘Pug’ Henry wore in mini-series The Winds of War. Well, actually he wore it in the sequel, War and Remembrance, but nobody remembers that one. ‘Pug’ was played by Robert Mitchum, in the twilight of his career. Yep, by then he was pretty much just going through the motions, acting mainly with his eyes — one blink for yes and two blinks for no. But nobody was really paying any attention to him because Jan-Michael Vincent and Ali McGraw were the real stars.

The holy trinity of actors coming together for one big blowout. And then some genius added Peter Graves for good measure.

So, of course I have a soft spot for the entire debacle. Nobody could roll his eyes like Mitchum or clench his jaws like Vincent. Or read a line with the fiery passion of McGraw, one of the finest Method actors that Wellesley ever produced.

I’m already planning another pilgrimage to Planet Hollywood. Must find Richard Chamberlain’s kimono from Shogun.