Are You A Blackhawks Fan in Memphis?

2009 December 5

Are you a Chicago Blackhawks fan in the Memphis area? LeftWingCracker and I want to know. Show yourselves!

We’re looking maybe to organize something in town. Maybe there’s already a Hawks group you’re a part of? You can contact me here to let me know if you’re interested or know of a group already.

42 Things I Love About My Husband

2009 December 4
by bergsie

Today is Himself’s birthday. To honor him, I shall publicly embarrass him by giving you a list of…

42 Things I Love About My Husband (In No Particular Order):

  1. His faculty as a parent. He’s a good daddy.
  2. The way he smells. He smells like Ivory soap and sketchy intentions.
  3. When he hacks his leg open with a hatchet, he calmly limps over to me and says, “Hey, can you help me a second?”
  4. He generally offers to split the last beer with me. Generally.
  5. He calls me on his way home from work. Squeeeee!
  6. He fixes stuff.
  7. When he hugs me, it makes everything better. Even when nothing is wrong.
  8. He can sew on a button or make a minor repair to a seam better than I can.
  9. He makes pie crust.
  10. He makes better soup than I do.
  11. He doesn’t wear leather-soled shoes.
  12. He makes a damn fine biscuit.
  13. He doesn’t seem to mind it that I regularly wrap my icy appendages around him for warmth.
  14. I can’t count the number of days he’s let me sleep in while he gets up and takes a child to school.
  15. He seems all mild-mannered, but he’ll kick your ass eight ways from Sunday if he needs to.
  16. His hands.
  17. His Gene Simmons dance. Hawt.
  18. “Even zombies deserve to be happy.”
  19. “Four wheel drive? We don’t need no stinkin’ four wheel drive.”
  20. “Being friends with someone gay doesn’t make me gay. Wanting to kiss him? That would make me gay.”
  21. (About a life-sized Cylon Centurian Robot) “I want to go to there. I’m gonna get one of those when we win the lottery. Put it in my playroom.”
  22. “I bet she would strip for Jesus.”
  23. She’s the kind of wife who just walks around in panties just to piss you off. Like, ‘ooh, la-ti-da, I’m in my panties and this is as close as you’re gonna get, dumbass.’”
  24. He thinks I’m cute. Even when I don’t.
  25. He made the coffee this morning.
  26. While he takes his paying job very, very seriously, it doesn’t come close to how seriously he takes his job as a parent.
  27. When he says, “You know, that girl with the hips.” I know he means Rachael Ray.
  28. He knows faith and religion can be, and usually are, two totally different things.
  29. He’s secretly an anarchist.
  30. He totally understands my passion for the New Orleans Saints.
  31. I know that the night before our wedding, he wasn’t planning escape routes.
  32. We have this unwritten contract that says he will always squish bugs, and I will always fix the computer. Even though we could each do the other’s job just fine.
  33. Any time anyone says anything about pie, his response is always, “I like pie.”
  34. He would do anything for love, and he has done that.
  35. He will choose Rolling Stones over The Beatles every single time.
  36. He totally did not blink when I said I was considering “Beast of Burden” being played during our wedding.
  37. He wants “Please Don’t Bury Me” to be played at his funeral.
  38. He is happiest when talking about boots, pocket knives, or guns, but is perfectly willing to discuss Nicomachean ethics should the situation arrive.
  39. He was right about those damn slippers.
  40. He makes me all goose-bumpy. In a good way. Not like a creeper.
  41. People watching with him at Huey’s. He is the boss of people watching.
  42. Every day that I’m with him is a day that I haven’t run away.

Pringles Poll: Vote Now!

2009 December 3

The Bartender’s Journal: Nothing Comes Between Me and My Shoes

2009 December 3
by gailvogue

I love my shoes.

Yes, this is not only NOT a shock to anyone who has seen my Facebook page lately, but to anyone who may have seen me in the last few years…(Meaning like, ten!) I have an obsession with shoes. I also love a great outfit. I’m a girl, so it’s always been there, itching to get out. As a child, we were poor, I had to walk uphill both ways to and from school. Ok, just kidding. I was checking to see if you were actually paying attention.

ANYWAY,  we didn’t have a lot of money growing up, so I got a lot of hand-me-downs from my sister, and then the cheap Kmart or Venture crap that was, yes, on sale. (Anyone remember Venture?!?!?!) A few things about this. The hand-me-downs were on their way out when my sister got them, yes on sale and clearance, but none-the-less, still in style, so imagine what era they fell in four plus years later. I was ridiculed for the crap I had to wear. The shit I got new wasn’t much better because it was the shit no one else wanted. Ya know, the ugly styles, the weird cuts and the god awful left over colors. I had one pair of pants that had different colored fruit all over them. I was about 80 pounds when I was in grade school and not much more through high school, so things just hung on me. I know, ‘cry me a river you skinny bitch!’ Well, it sucked. I had no figure, no curves…nothing to fill out any of the bad clothes. Then, I got smart! I’d take things, cut them up, tie them around and VOILA!!! I was MADONNA!! But that didn’t work either because, much like Madonna, I was ahead of my time and ridiculed for taking those risks. Either way, I started taking chances with fashion at a young age, and since I wasn’t conforming with the matching socks to the sweater from Express like the rest of my high school, I was a pariah.

Honestly, I was pissed we couldn’t afford those matching sets of conformity that the rest of the rich girls had and would have happily been a lemming, but in retrospect, it was the best thing that could have happened. I didn’t get sucked into what everyone else was doing because, well, they wouldn’t have me. I had a hard time making friends and a harder time getting dates. What does my sucky teenage social life have to do with fashion?? EVERYTHING!! Find me a social pariah and I’ll show you a famous actor, fashion designer or successful business professional. Also, maybe throw in a serial killer or two, but ya know, at least they didn’t follow the norm!

Fashion is about taking chances, coming up with the next best thing and making it trickle down to those little lemming bitches who buy what all their little lemming friends are buying. It’s about making you feel beautiful and lovely and sophisticated or edgy and like the best person you can be. I know that men probably may not get this, but guys, try to imagine the day you had on your new polo or a great suit and tie and women looked at you differently, or your wife couldn’t stop gushing about how handsome you were. That feeling??? We strive for it every time we put on an outfit. It’s what makes us get up early to do our hair and put together an outfit to make our work day that much more tolerable. We do it for the men, sure, cuz what is a world without someone telling you how hot you are? But we mainly do it for ourselves. I didn’t get what I was doing when I was younger, but it finally came together about ten years ago when I was working my ass off and making enough money to SHOP for the first time in my life the way I wanted. I realized that I lacked confidence for a host of reasons that would keep a therapist busy for years, but fashion was a way for me to help boost my confidence and to feel better about myself. I started straightening my hair, playing with different ways to do my makeup and wearing outfits that made me feel the way I’d always wanted to feel. It wasn’t as shallow as it sounds. It is simply a way to give me that initial boost to get to where a lot of people come to naturally. We all need a little something extra to help us get to where we need to be. Mine? Fashion.

Shoes were always part of the shopping agenda, but initially I had to get the rest of my wardrobe going in order to get to the point where my full focus could be on the SHOES! It was a gradual progression. I got one cute pair, and then I liked those so much I had to have something like them for another event. Then I found a pair on sale and who could pass that up??? Then one day I was wearing a pair of shoes and someone went nuts over them. The gushing, the compliments…it was too much! The last nail in the shoe-obsessed coffin was the way I felt in them. I felt tall and pretty and like I could do anything, I was totally and completely hooked.

One good thing that came from being poor and having to ALWAYS shop the sales? That stuck with me. You want something cheap that doesn’t look cheap, wear cheap or make you feel like it’s cheap? Take me shopping with you. I can shop sales, clearance and any version of that and get you exactly what you want for whatever occasion you are looking for, and on top of it?? You will get people stopping you on the street to tell you just how fabulous you are. My girlfriend Johanne takes me shopping with her whenever she needs ANYTHING…home goods, swimsuit cover-ups, dresses and of course…shoes. She says that no matter when she wears a pair of shoes I tell her to buy, someone stops her and tells her how exquisite they are. She gets compliments on most of the stuff I help her pick out, but the shoes are an absolute guarantee.

It took me a while to realize that just because something was only five dollars didn’t make it a deal. I spent hundreds of dollars on “deals” that sat in my closet with the tags on them till I finally gave up and got rid of them.  I’ve bought shoes because they were a good deal or just too cute to pass up, and then suffered through painful nights out, blisters or looking like a child trying to walk in my mother’s shoes because they kept falling off my feet. I now only buy things that I HAVE to have. You know that feeling when you put something on it feels like it was made for you?

That’s how I felt when I bought this particular pair of shoes for my birthday this year. They were $90…waaaaaaay more than I would normally spend on myself, but it was my birthday and these shoes are heaven. They are the new ankle boot, open toe, natural color suede with a black and natural snakeskin platform and stiletto heel with the same snakeskin large flower on the side of the shoes. I was at Cirque de Soliel the other day and as we were leaving the theater, this woman stopped me and said, “I had to stop you and tell you how amazing your shoes are! I saw them in the bathroom and had to tell you…those shoes are breathtaking!” I was flattered and giddy! Every time I put those shoes on I feel like a million bucks.

If you have an outfit that makes you feel like that sweet woman made me feel, then it’s natural that you would want to have more like it to feel that way as often as possible. I love my shoes because they make me feel like I can accomplish just about anything. Maybe it’s silly that I wear them at inappropriate times, or even shopping but to me it helps me feel confident and sexy. A great outfit and a fabulous pair of shoes are all I need to make the world seem a little sweeter, a little more tolerable and little less intimidating.

What They Said

2009 December 2
by kittensfartingrainbows

From Mrs. Collins:

While in Target, Michael looks at some Hello Kitty stuff and winces and looks scared. I ask why.

He says, “Maybe if Hello Kitty had a mouth she wouldn’t make me so uncomfortable!”

I ask him where the Hello Kitty stuff is and Sean casually responds, “Over there by the lady with the lady beard.”

Vomit

2009 December 2

Tiger, shut the hell up.

For that matter, anyone who has had “rocky” times in their marriage, shut the hell up. I do not need to know that. Quit making with the verbal vomit about your personal life. I don’t care about your marriage. IT’S NOT MY BUSINESS. Look, it’s one thing if I’m talking with a friend and we’re discussing our marriages. That’s one thing. That’s like sharing the human experience and junk. Because, the thing is, our friends and family are involved in our relationships and marriages whether they want to be or not, if for no other reason than they share space with us.

I don’t take kindly to having to hear about the indiscretions–real or imagined–of politicians, actors, sports figures, or anyone else in the public eye. The reason has nothing to do with morality. The reason is that my interaction with these people is strictly a business transaction. That Sports Figure A cannot keep it in his pants is a matter of no concern to me. As long as he can get the ball through the hoop, into the end zone, or out of the park, I’m fine. Now, should he cease to do those things regularly, I’ll move on. But I don’t care about the reason. Well, unless it’s because he’s actually a droid powered by blow. And the blood of virgin newts. Who also had the genitals of a carpenter ant.  That I would want to know about.

But, Tiger, dude, you say on your website, “I am dealing with my behavior and personal failings behind closed doors with my family. Those feelings should be shared by us alone.” Yeah. So shut the hell up.

I don’t get it. I had a discussion this afternoon with my brother-in-law, Frère Jacques, about Tiger and his woods. It went something like this:

Me: So I don’t understand why he’s got to issue a statement that seems as if it’s worded by the DOD. A non-denial denial about an event that may or may not have happened in a marriage that may or may not be troubled. Why can’t he just say, ‘you know what, it’s none of your damn business what happened. Nobody was hurt. No animals were harmed. Move along now. Nothing to see here.’

FJ: We like our heroes contrite. I’m sure Nike forced this whole thing.

Me: So, your sponsor says, we won’t drop you, but you have to apologize publicly. In return, we’ll not drop you becasue we know in a week this will all blow over. The sponsor really owns you at this point because they know you’ve now got to work your ass off for another 20 years to pay the $10 million a year in alimony you’re about to get stuck with.

FJ: Bingo. We have a winner. I think the best thing would be that those who are offended by his actions to stop buying his stuff and everyone else can just go about their business.

Me: I do think the best way to protest is with the wallet. Also, unless you are paying me, I don’t want you name plastered all over my clothes and accessories.

FJ: Luckily for Nike, you’re about alone in that.

Me: Nike, Prada, Gucci. Any of them. I mean, unless you’re a friend and I’m shilling for you. Like by wearing a Lucy Furr t-shirt, for instance.

FJ: Way to go. You’ve just completely undermined capitalism and the free world. I hope you’re happy.

Now, just to go back to something I mentioned earlier, I’d like to talk about the genitals of the carpenter ant. I was informed today–you know who you are–that the genitals of carpenter ants can be, and do get, removed. They remove them so they are able to keep their minds on their work so they won’t just stand around on the sidewalk making catcalls at the lady ants. I am also told that a droid powered by both the blood of virgin fire ants as well as the genitals of carpenter ants would always get its ass kicked by Chuck Norris apparently for looking a bit like Michael Jackson.

You see, ladies and gentlemen, when you write, you get to have discussions like this. It is not goofing off time. It is research. This is why I can’t understand why everyone doesn’t blog.

Love Letter to The Saints

2009 December 1
by bergsie

I don’t write about sports, and I want to be up front with that in this post. This is a total fluff piece, okay? You want in depth news and analysis of the sports world, go to deadspin.com. You can thank me later.

This is a love letter.

Dear Saints,

I do not remember a time I did not root for you.

I remember the dark days when people would show up at the Superdome with bags over their heads so people wouldn’t recognize them. I will admit to having called you, once or twice, The Aints. I remember the Bum Phillips days when occasionally his sideline jibes to the officials were more interesting than the game. I remember the last Bum Phillips day because it was, I believe, the first starting game for Bobby Hebert.

I remember the Jim Mora days when, yes, you had that Dome Patrol, but you could still blow a double digit lead in the single digits of the fourth quarter. I didn’t care. If all else failed, I could just make googly eyes at Jim. That Jim Mora is a beautiful man, my friends.

Fast forward through the acid trip that was Ditka, Venturi, and Haslett, and here we are. You are undefeated. People outside of a 200 mile radius of New Orleans can name at least three of your players. I can regularly find people in bars in Memphis wearing a #25 jersey. I had a conversation about Jeremy Shockey in the line at Schnuck’s the other day, and it DIDN’T involve me explaining who he is.

I love you because you are the team that made me love football. I stick with you even though you make me cry. I stick with you even though you’ve never been to a Super Bowl. I stick with you because you are the closest thing to a home team I will ever have because I don’t root for the Titans. Unless they play Miami, that is. I stick with you even though, last night, when you were up by 21 points with five minutes left to go, I thought you might still lose, and I was afraid to turn off the game. I stick with you because you turned a good quarterback into a great one. I stick with you because last night you had, what, like four players out with injuries–including your star running back– and at the end of the night everyone was like, “Reggie Who?” And I mean that in the nicest possible way, Mr. Bush, sir.

It makes me happy when people ask if they can jump on the Saints bandwagon. A true Saints fan will always say yes because we know the more the merrier.

And this exchange from two friends this morning makes me happy. I’m paraphrasing a bit.

Friend 1: I know that it’s only football and there are a lot more important things in the world to worry about but, I’m very happy that for the last eleven weeks the New Orleans Saints have put a smile on my face.

Friend 2: You don’t have to put a caveat on that statement. Anyone who would give someone crap for being happy about their team by saying,“there are more important things in the world than sports, you know,” should be smashed in the face with a shovel! Yeah, ass face, we know there are more important things, but these little distractions keep us from focusing on the problems of the world non-stop. Enjoy the ride! And if anyone gives you crap about enjoying it I will be happy to supply the shovel!

Congratulations on your season so far. You’ve earned it. And so have your fans.

Love,

Bergs

I’m A Journey, Flannery, Rolling Stones Oreo Separator.

2009 November 29

Yeah, I’ll tell you about Thanksgiving later. I’ve got to tell you about how there are two kinds of people in this world. You’re either The Beatles or Rolling Stones.

I know this is not a new concept to some of you. You guys are also the ones who know you’re either a Oreos whole or Oreos separator person. I have added a new category as well. You’re either Flannery O’Connor or Eudora Welty.

I’m a Rolling Stones, Flannery Separator. And while I might occasionally not break open my Oreo so that I can, as my friend says, see how the other half lives, in my heart of hearts I am a break-apart Oreo girl.

Given the option, I’m always going to pick Mick over Paul. I’ll take Charlie over Ringo; although if I like one of The Beatles best, it’s Ringo. I’m going to pick “Sister Morphine” over “Lucy in the Sky With Diamonds” every time. Every single time. One does not need be a big fan of either band to fall into one of the two camps. It’s really more of a state of mind thing.

Further, there are journey people and destination people. I’m not talking about bands now. You can tell because I’m contractually obligated to refer to “Journey”, the band, as “Journey: Featuring That Dude Who Ain’t Steve Perry.” I am a journey person. I bring this up because the other night we were discussing seekers.

Journey people like to take the train. Destination people will always take a plane. Seekers, an entirely different breed, will want to know which of the options will make them happier and want to know this before they board. Seekers think other people can make them happy. I find that your average seeker is a bit of a bore. They don’t commit very well, they make unreliable friends, and they buy lots of self-help books.

I’m thinking about all of this because lately I’ve been thinking of the nature of commitments, specifically of the relationship variety. I keep coming across people—seekers, mainly—who think that if a relationship is real, is true, there will be no work involved in its maintenance. That, my friends, is a giant, fresh, hot, steaming pile of bullshit. You don’t get in a good relationship by accident any more than you end up in Santa Fe by touring Santa Barbara. And you don’t stay in a bad relationship by accident either. You choose it. Every day. You choose it because it’s the devil you know, and the devil you don’t might be worse.

Every time you don’t make a decision to leave, it’s a decision to stay. Martin Luther King, Jr. said, “Take the first step in faith. You don’t have to see the whole staircase, just take the first step.” It’s the same thing with relationships whether new or old. Whether coming or going.

I don’t want to get too heavy here because that’s not my schtick, but I’ve been thinking a lot about this lately and I figured one of you would pipe up with something interesting to say on the subject.

Monday will resume my regular schedule of posting. I know, I know. You were wondering when the hell of my radio silence would end. Your wait is over.

Shameless Commerce

2009 November 27
by kittensfartingrainbows

Hey guys, you know, we sell stuff. It’s true. We have a fine collection of KFR, um, stuff. And more to come this week, God willing and Jesus tarries. To get you in the holiday spirit, we’re offering a coupon for 25% off* your entire purchase from K.F. Rainbows Dry Goods Store. Just use coupon code SAVE25. It’s good today through Sunday, Nov. 29.

We can put other images on the mugs, coolers, and misc. gift items. Please use our contact us form from the home page and let us know what image you’d like, and we’ll see if we can’t hook you up.

 

 

 

*You must enter coupon code SAVE25 before completing checkout. Your subtotal must meet the minimum of $25.00 to receive the discount. While your entire subtotal qualifies you for the promotion, your entire subtotal may not be eligible for the discount due to varying partner commissions (sorry for the confusion). The maximum qualifying discount will be AUTOMATICALLY calculated by the website. Discount is only applied to the qualifying subtotal and does not include shipping, taxes, or additional charges. Offer valid until 11/29/2009 11:59 PM MST. This offer may not be combined with any other Printfection promotional or discount offers. Orders placed with this discount may be delayed beyond normal estimated ship dates, no refunds or discounts will be given for orders delayed under this promotion.

 

 

What They Said…

2009 November 20
by kittensfartingrainbows

From Mrs. Collins…

Last Thanksgiving we decided to stay home and have a “just us” holiday. Instead of a traditional turkey, I decided to get cornish game hens and pretend they were our own personal turkeys.

Of course, because they were our own personal turkeys, we named them. Sean named his Steve. I loaded up Steve and all the fixin’s onto Sean’s plate. As Sean is walking to the table, something awful shoots out of Steve and on to the floor.

In a stunned silence, we stared at the floor where the black goo Steve had given birth to landed.

Reverently, Sean whispers, “And we shall name that stuff Harold. And it shall herald the Christmas season.”

HAPPY THANKSGIVING, Y’ALL!!