da blogs da thang

Wow! Thanks to all of you who came by for HNT this week and leaving your kind comments. I really wasn’t sure if I was going to be able to post this week as my schedule was looking pretty booked. But. alas… I managed to “frankenstein” some of my earlier HNT posts to cobble together this one. (It was also a sly way to provide you with chance to check those out if you hadn’t already.) Once again, thanks for coming by and please visit again soon. I should be posting a new edition of Picture Daze sometime this weekend.

ANNOUNCEMENT: For you performer and artists types – the ROGUE PERFORMANCE FESTIVAL is accepting applications for the 2006 fest starting TODAY! Yes, I’m afraid the rumors are true… I am one of those demented nutzoids who started this insane tomfoolery 5 years ago… and is now stuck running it even though I’ve been trying to palm it off to someone else. (BTW this is going to soon limit my participation in HNT. Go ahead… breathe that sigh of relief.) So, please make my life worthwhile and APPLY, dammit!

And on to something else…

Last night I was checking comments on a previous post on this blog and I came across this:

• Congratulations! Your site has been reviewed by Malaysia Business and Consumer website http://www.isnin.com for your site to be included at the web directory.

HUH?!!! WTF?!!! Looks like I may have to sign up for the witness protection program one more time. Oh well.

Came across some sites today that were pretty interesting. (O.K. interesting if you seriously don’t have a life.) Nevertheless, I decided to share them with you. Perhaps this way your weekend might be peppered with completely useless conversations about nothing in particular. Enjoy!

The History of Chonies – understating the understated.

Designer Butt Wipe… (too many possible puns – go ahead, list one.)

I took this quiz today and these were the results. *NOTE:No bodily fluids were involved.

Very Well-Rounded You have: 70% SCIENTIFIC INTUITION and 70% EMOTIONAL INTUITION

The graph on the right represents your place in Intuition 2-Space. As you can see, you scored above average on emotional intuition and above average on scientific intuition. (Weirdly, your emotional and scientific intuitions are equally strong.) Your Emotional Intuition score is a measure of how well you understand people, especially their unspoken needs and sympathies. A high score score usually indicates social grace and persuasiveness. A low score usually means you’re good at Quake. Your Scientific Intuition score tells you how in tune you are with the world around you; how well you understand your physical and intellectual environment. People with high scores here are apt to succeed in business and, of course, the sciences. Try my other test! The 3 Variable Funny Test It rules.

Didn’t think I was going to be able to post an HNT today… but the Celtic Gods smiled on me. So, here I am with a quick and dirty.

What is HNT? Just click the nifty button to find out!

Not one of my more creative ones but it does include a crazy soundtrack that will drive you insane and screaming into kingdom come.

Make sure your sound is turned on before you click.

CLICK HERE and the music will open in a new window!

Laddeees and Gentleman! Welcome to the Half-Nekkid Freak n Geek Circus! We specialize in the most incredible of incredibles! We pride ourselves as purveyors of the fantastic! We logicalize the illogical! Come on in and be amazed by that freakoziod, Lecrumus Sinunitist – a one-man geek circus that guarantees to churn your bowels!

In a previous visit you had the misfortune of encountering the Rubberized Jimmy! The loose and languid limb and master of the ancient art of Whip Slappology that sent the biggest and the best running away screaming!!

We also introduced you to Stan, the Cold Dead Foot! A sluggish nightmare if there ever was one!

And who can… even though they might try… forget the haunting Evil Eye, Armin! (Thanks Foxy). With a stare so intense computer screens were cracking and shorts were soiling all over the cyber world!

Then there was of course… the Smoking Shadowman! A being so diabolical governments worldwide were forced to impose international permits on Daisy Dukes… lest they fall into the wrong hands.

What may you ask do we have to offer today? Yes, what indeed! What more can we bring you to cringe your spine and shudder your earlobes? How much more darkness and despair can we weasel into your lives. How much more deformity can one individual possibly have in store for you? And when, oh when will that insane nightmarish circus music end!

Ladies and gentlemen, whip out the smelling salts or the old used socks and brace yourselves as we unveil the unaturals of unmentionables!

If the front view was not shocking enough… we bring you an even more disgusting and sickening rear view!

You are no doubt aghast… your silence speaks volumes . Perhaps you should have let go of that nickle for the puke bucket on your way in… you had your chance! Please tip the midget on your way out… and tip generously.

My schedule is looking pretty hectic… not sure if I’ll be able to do HNT.

Riffing off lelly’s good girl/bad girl post I decided to post this. Setup for this one. It takes place in a bar. 4 singles are muddling through the “mating game” as it were. Pepper has just come off a long term relationship and is looking (somewhat reluctantly) for her groove again. At some point in the evening… the following occurs. (Note: the second half of this is done to a hot tango.)

(Trying out different poses.) Nonchalant? Coy? Sultry? This is silly. There was a time something like this wasn’t a problem. I didn’t have to deal with it…. so it wasn’t a problem. (Now to the audience.) I could be myself… natural, you know? Now I’m not even sure who I am anymore. It didn’t always use to be this way. (A light airy piece of music plays under this.) There was a time…a time I was sure. Sure of who I was—Sure of what I wanted—Sure of where I was going. Seems like such a long time ago. There was a time with Mike and me… a time when I was so very sure.

We met in college…It’s the same old story. You’ve probably heard it a thousand times before. We had the same friends—had some laughs and things just sort of developed. Funny how that happens, isn’t it? You don’t really think about it as its happening and one day you wake up and…its there—this thing. This very funny, strange, crazy and very real thing. And this person you feel you’ve known since the beginning of time. It wasn’t like the movies at all. No boy meets girl, boy loses girl and somehow wins her back again. No drama like that with a neat little ending for us. It was more than that. It was much more. It was… seamless. This was real life. When we were together, it felt as if no matter what happened, things would be O.K.. And it would always be O.K. because we would always be together.

There were times I felt we were almost the same person. Or at least different facets of the same person. I don’t know if that was good or bad. I only knew it was. It was a little scary but it also felt completely natural at the same time. I felt good around him. I felt important. I felt complete. I felt safe. Safe. What a wonderful feeling that was. That was important to me—feeling safe. Feeling safe…safe and sure….sure and safe. Its funny…. safe had nothing to do with the other time. You see, there was another time… another time I thought I was sure. (The light airy piece comes to an abrupt halt.)

I was contemplating a graduate degree and considering going back for night classes. Mike was very supportive about the whole thing. So, supportive in fact that I decided…I would do it. What more could a gal want? (Pause.) Well on the first night of class… he walked in. (A Tango begins. Pepper and Eric take a Tango-snap-look at each other. Eric and Pepper begin to sway to the tango playing…but not touching as they sway) Look just because I was with Mike…didn’t I mean I was dead. It didn’t mean I couldn’t be attracted to someone else. It didn’t mean I couldn’t spin silly fantasies like a giddy headed school girl. I mean… we all do that, don’t we? That’s why we buy romance novels, isn’t it?

But this was different. There was something dangerous about him. Something unpredictable and it stirred something inside me—something I had forgotten was there.(They now connect and tango.)

This class was going to be a project based class where we would have to work together—in groups. I should have got out when I heard that… but I didn’t. I thought I could handle it. The voice inside told me to get out….save it for another semester…. and I ignored it. It was all very innocent at first—group discussions—the casual coffee after class. Harmless flirtations I hoped were just that—harmless flirtations. But I was wrong. As much as I tried to keep him at arms length a secret part of me wanted to let go. It kept building and building all semester long with an intensity that was putting my entire being into a spin that nearly drove me insane.

Then the night of the last class meeting came. There was going to be a party after the final. I did not want to go—but I did. I had made up my mind. Tonight was it. After tonight there would be no more class…. no more group discussions.. no more him. I would be safe again. Safe with Mike. Safe to be sure.

The party went well— as well as could be expected. All evening there was a slow burn between us but I kept thinking that soon, it would be time to go. Home to Mike…home to where I was safe. And when it was time to go, we all shook hands…like nice civilized people. He decided to walk me to my car. He shouldn’t have. I shouldn’t have let him…but I did.

It was quiet all the way there. There was nothing to say. And as I was about to get into the car… ever so lightly on my shoulder. (Eric kisses her shoulder.) It happened. I wish he didn’t and was glad he did. I didn’t want him to continue yet I didn’t want him to stop. I kept telling myself… This only happens in a romance novel or in the movies. Not in real life. But something broke inside me. Suddenly everything made sense and didn’t all at the same time. This was exciting. This was different. This was no longer harmless. This was no longer civilized. This was no longer safe…and I loved every moment of it! And in that glorious instant I was sure. I was so damn sure! But it didn’t make any sense because I was so sure before.(Tango stops.) And since then…I have never been quite sure again. (Pause. They seperate back to their own tables.)

There was a time I knew. A time when I was sure. But when you’ve been sure twice in a lifetime … and they’ve been so different…(Looks over to Eric.)…can you ever be sure again?

excerpt from “Lunkheads On Parade” copyright 1993 Marcel Nunis

This pic has nothing to do with the post.

I moved here in 1980 from Malaysia. Pretty much spent half my life in each place. Thought I’d post some random observations… here are 7.

• 1. I have met and know more people in America who have “done time” than I ever did in Malaysia.

• 2. As a general rule Americans are attention hogs and are more up front about it than Malaysians will ever be.

• 3. The submissive, demure, elegant, mysterious, Asian woman… is the biggest myth ever perpetuated on Western culture… and it is still going strong.

• 4. In America religion is probably the number one commodity that is sold over every form of media known to man.

• 5. Americans are always talking about their history… Malaysians hardly ever do.

• 6. Americans eat to live… Malaysians live to eat.

• 7. Per capita, probably the same amount of wild sex is happening in both places… Malaysians are just not about advertizing the fact everytime they get laid.

UPDATE: Tish voted for my HNT post as her favorite this week! You are too kind dear. Also first runner-up from FatMike. Not too shabby, huh?

Once again, thank you all for visiting and for your wonderful comments. The trip to SF must have really creatively refreshed me more than I expected. Not sure if I can top this one… but I’ll give it the ole shot though. This one took all of an hour and a half (including photo shoots and photoshopping, etc) from write to post. Some of you enquired about the tune that was used. Stanley Jordan playing “Freddie Freeloader” – a great Miles Davis piece. Come on back and visit soon… I should have a new Picture Daze post this weekend.

I’ll be attempting an “audience participation” HNT this week. (Warned you I’m a theatre person, didn’t I?)

What is HNT? Click on the nifty button on the sidebar to find out.

To enjoy the full effect of this you need to:
1. Click the music on.
2. Read the post out loud in a detective noir style. Guys try your best Humphry Bogart, ladies… try your best sulty Kathleen Turner.

If it doesn’t play “click here. A new window will open for the music.

It was one of those late Summer afternoons when the mating habits of flies on a crusty canine turd seemed like the only game worth laying bets on. The only thing on my pith encased mind was a HNT post that was due and I didn’t have a doodle of an idea what slimy form this week would take.

I was sippin a vodka mango between puffs of a coffin nail when I eyeballed her slow, swaying bounce saunter up my driveway. She was built like a guitar waiting to be strummed by a one handed gypsy who worked nights in a piston factory. The curvy shadow at the door knocked twice and let herself in.
“I want in on this HNT thing.” she purred from her smoky lips. The moment I heard that I knew this “demando doll” was more trouble with a capital T and looking for more.

“Not so fast, sweet cheeks. What makes you think I have any idea what you’re talking about?” She sat down and the surly upturned curve from the corners her ruby pucker suckers told me she knew. She grabbed one of my Javanese shadow puppets and toyed with it like a blind rabbit playing a skunk in heat.

“I’ve seen your “thang” on Osbasso’s list.“

“My thang?“

“On Osbasso’s list. I want in.”

She of course was talking about that Maverick from Montana who ran the slickest skin sensation this side of Harry Connick’s junior. She knew that I knew that she had me by the curly-q-fries in hot boiling lard but I still wasn’t gonna roll over like a five dollar hooker with a ten dollar habit.

“O.K. suger thighs, what do you have to show for it?“

She whipped off her silky pink blouse like a Siamese schucking mangos on the Mekong.

“How about these?” she teased, working the smoke maker between her fingers like a busty latina rolling the tightest chimichanga in a 99 cent border cantina. “I want to see what you got to show, big boy… and I want it in color!“

I warned her, “It’s long and it’s dark.”

“Go ahead. I like being scared.” she mocked.

I took it off and let it down. I turned to look and her full rubies quivered like a bowl of jello in an old folks home. She thought I was some surburban palooka with a hankering for a champagne colored SUV but found an orangutan in 501′s instead.

All she could say was, “What conditioner do you use?” It was over and she broke.

But her breaking broke me. This old boy scout was about to learn some new knots to tie and some new tents to pup.

When it was over we were done and the score was even. She walked away into the evening leaving this shmoe wanting for more. So, it goes. It’s a crazy business but someones got to do it. As she faded off down the driveway I heard her say, “Happy HNT, hair man.“

Special thanks to my friend Dragonfly for joining me this week.