Friday, March 30, 2007

You're My Obsession.


Saturday, March 24, 2007

Lookin' For Our Lost Shaker of Salt. Life in Florida.

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Tennis. Spring Training Baseball. Coronas with lime and zero irony. White rasta dude server at Chattaway's Drive In (not a drive in at all; you eat outdoors). This place is great and everyone who slags me for not digging Portland? Well, um, fuck off and worry about your own life, perhaps? It is much better for me here. MUCH. Now pass the fish spread and bottle of wine!

Friday, March 23, 2007


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Gotcha oversized arrogant ass state with our lovable Keystone Kops of a team. Piss on your Alamo anyday, thank you. Corpus your Christi!

I think Andre (aka "Entree"--thanks Dave Dunlap) Allen has a lil crush on Gwen Stefani and this was his idea of a good idea for a L.A.M.B look with that 'do.

Go Tigers! Smash "The" Ohio State University!

Saturday, March 17, 2007

PLEASE suggest something for me to OUT METAL my downstairs neighbor.

That is correct people.

The gloves are OFF. I mean, I should wear latex gloves if I am within 50 feet of my downstairs, off-the-lease, off-the-books downstairs neighbor. I like to call him The Anger Management Tour of the Dartmoor House. He blasts really bad Flo-Metal (Florida+Metal?) when he is crashing at home (all the time) while his harpy idiot teen mom girlfriend, Barbie, is out manning the front desk at the local Mariott.

One of the small pleasures in my life while living in this shoebox at Dartmoor House is to get home after my 45 minute commute from the bowels of South County Tampa and fling open the back doors to our porch to let the air flow through the house and check out the sunset and all our plants.

Before Barbie and her child and her manchild moved in (manchild moved in sometime in the last 2 weeks), this was an easy enough task. Now? Not so much. Because if Barbie and Anger Management aren't screaming at each other and coming to near blows, the guy has aforementioned NuMetal CRANKED. It sounds like it probably has cookie monster vocals, but all I can really hear is the "chuh-chug, chuh-chug" pattern folowed by the needlessly complicated guitar "melody"...for all I know this could be what Insane Clown Posee sounds like cos this guy reeks of Jugalo smell.

Question to you, dear reader (likely my husband, maybe my cat)...WHAT metal can I purchase STAT to "out metal" this dick? He needs to get got. And fast. I want it so loud, so complex, so BRUTAL that his metal withers and dries up with a quickness.

I am now relying on my Rick James "Come Get It!" only works for a minute.


Monday, March 5, 2007

Craig Brewer: The Untouchable

Much like Robert DeNiro's Al Capone, Memphis has its own nonstick pan of film (WHAT?): Craig Brewer. I have attempted throughout lo these many years, to get anything beyond a vague expression of criticism of this man's "work" from any Memphian I know. I don't dig the man. Sure, I found Hustle & Flow (which now shall forever be known by me as M.E.M.P.H.I.S. Pimp) to be a surprising, sorta sweet (aka: saccharine) diversion rather than the utter piece of exploitative trash it could have been. However, the guy reeks of hack. I am sure I might like him as a person, but I fear he would be one of those people that I'd find myself panicking within moments to find the nearest shot glass to get through a conversation with. But then again, I saw this look in a couple of drunk women's faces the other night in Downtown St.

So, yeah, anyways...I make my feelings known about Mr. Brewer. I have asked every which way but Sunday how friends and acquaintances feel, either in person, via telephone or internet, HOW DO YOU FEEL? What did you THINK?


I hate to say it and I guess this is whatcha gotta do in Memphis, people there are politicking. Craig Brewer could mean a future income to allow you to get through a few months in an area where you just don't make that "crazy money" that Hollywood pays out. Craig Brewer could mean an interview that might allow you to publish in a real magazine, not a blog like Saispas. Craig Brewer could mean a night with access to some Hollywood drugs, drink and women. Or at least a night on a red carpet in a humid dirty Downtown Memphis.

Who am I to judge? All I really for you to tell me how you really feel about someone with that much of a cliched version of a place that, if you are with me, you love? All replies will be accepted by commented here on This Blog.

Goodnight and Good Luck.