Sunday, August 31, 2014

A Plain Brown Crapper . . . .

I didn't know it until I read an article somewhere; but styles of hard-to-change household items go through different fashions too.  As an unmarried single, I'm more into Cosmo than House Beautiful, though I do sometimes watch "House Hunters" on HGTV.
Anyway, the article intimated that certain features of older houses might make them harder to sell: paneled walls, popcorn ceilings, brightly-hued shag carpets, colored bathtubs, sinks, and toilets, and so forth.
I can see how a self-respecting guy might not want to read and do his bidness while seated on a pink toilet; but light blue or green should be unobjectionable.  White is, of course, preferable for the porcelain throne.
But what about brown?  I can see how this might come up.  Someone requests wanting something in a plain brown wrapper; but it's understood as a plain brown crapper!   Anyway, I hope that they plumb enjoy the novelty.

Friday, August 29, 2014

Bubba Gets an Accomplice

I'm pleased to report that Bubba, our feckless western North Carolina bank robber, finally realized his limitations and took on an accomplice: Tammy, the red-headed school teacher from Mount Brushy.  I had already mentioned her in relation to sometimes providing entertainment at church services with her music, clogging, or stripping.  

At first Bubba tried to hit on her while in a party barn; but Tammy set him straight: it was a no-go.  Still, she needed someone to do some serious drinking with, and Bubba was buying.  Sometime in the evening Bubba admitted that he was unsuccessful in his bank robbing pursuits and was about to hang it up and get a real job.

Tammy had another idea.  She told him that he needed a partner, someone who was the brains of the operation.  Accordingly, Bubba acquiesced, and she planned the operation:

First of all, this was going to be a bank job during normal hours.  No jobs after dark.

Secondly, they were going to pull this off in Eastern Kentucky.  Bubba was a little leery at first, not wanting to be shot by Marshal Raylin Givens or that badass Constable Bob.*  But it all went according to plan.

Third, Bubba was to wear an all-black ninja outfit with a blue UK on it.  Normal, at least for  Kentucky.  Tammy wore a sultry décollété dress when she went into the First National Bank of Coal County.

In committing the felony, Tammy provided the distraction.  She strutted up to the cashier acting like a celebrity and started to cash a counter check.  Just then, ninja Bubba ran up, brandished a pistol and demanded the contents of the cashier's drawer.

Tammy feigned a dramatic swoon.  She was good at it because she had practice when the Mountaintop Players staged a play.  Her faint provided the major distraction while the masked ninja grabbed the cash from the till.  Tammy rightly figured that all eyes would be upon her; and what the heck, she enjoyed the affirmation.

Now, while Bubba was absconding with the loot, Tammy acted distressed and humiliated.  The teller and the loan manager tried to calm her down while trying to sneak a peek in the process.

Tammy learned at an early age during her visits to Okacroke that guys become instantly distracted if a girl wore a low-cut dress while making a scene.  Naturally, there were limited opporturnities for this in the mountains.  However, the Kentuckians were distracted.  It was not far-fetched to use that as a distraction device in a magic show or even to commit a robbery.

*Two characters from Justified.

Wednesday, August 27, 2014

An Enema of the People

Unlike the old Soviet Union, Russia nowadays is trying for the tourist trade.  While Moscow and St. Petersburg are major destinations, and Volvograd is sometimes managed by tourists primarily because of the Stalingrad battle site and the huge statue of Mother Russia, there are many places that have a struggle for identity, a reason for strangers to go there.  Part of the problem is the sameness of the old Soviet architectural style, if you are loose enough to call it that.

The Mashuk-Akva Term Spa in Zhelenovodsk. Russia wanted to put itself on the map as the last word in Russian spas.  They had constructed an 800-pound monument to the enema, featuring a giant enema bulb supported by three putti!  Needless to say, this questionable monument made the news!

It's a definite opportunity to pose next to, especially for groups.   The artist must have had a large sense of humor! 

Monday, August 25, 2014

Boudreaux's Vacations

Boudreaux,while managing the pogie factory in Mamou, made a remark that work was getting him down and that he needed a vacation.

Thibodaux said to him, "Then why not take a long, luxurious trip?"

Boudreaux answered, "Well, ma frien', remember when I took the trip to Paris?  Michelle got pregnant at that time."

"Oui, mon ami.  It was a romantic place to go."

And Boudreaux said, "And the next year, when I went to Hawaii, Michelle got pregnant again."

Thibodeaux said, "Oh, that one was Tee Marie.  Hawaii is so stimulating."

"And there was the trip to Rome.   Michelle got pregnant again, this time wif Tee Boudreaux.  So I'm not taking your advice no more, Thibodaux.  I'm taking her wif me to go to Shreveport.

Saturday, August 23, 2014

The Perils of Passez

I hope you don't mind a little story from earlier times of Tee Angel (Little Angel, in Cajun):

Girls are as aggressively disposed as guys.  But they tend to be expert at three forms: relational aggression, reputational aggression, and shaming.  Let me give you an example of the last: putting someone in an utter humiliating circumstance.  One of the more juvenile examples of cloddish behavior is to pull off a girl's bikini top and play passez with it.

Passez (pronounced "pos-say," roughly) is a teasing game that kids in the New Orleans area played for as long as people can remember.  It involves a pair (or more) of people swiping a person's posesssion (hat, glove, paperback book, etc.) as tossing them back and forth, keeping it from the owner while taunting him or her with "passez!  passez!"  Swiping a girl's bikini top is especially frustrating for her because she's usually handicapped by the protection of her modesty that she cannot effectively retrieve her possession.

Other girl's reactions tend to be one of amusement; or "better her than me," I'm sorry to say.  There's no feminist solidarity in that evolutionary crucible: the playground.

After she's sufficiently angry, the cloddish offenders make her an offer: "Show us your ta-tas (or some less pleasant term), and you'll get it back."  If she doesn't, they can throw it in a tree or over a telephone line.

I experienced this kind of juvenile prank some years ago when a group of three older girls (!) did that to me.  You have to handle things when ordinary passez is played on you with coolness -- no hard feelings, on the surface.  I didn't; being half-naked, humiliated, and with a bruised knee and bloody chin.  Therefore, I went for the nuclear option!  

Finally, after they threw my top over a tree limb, I lost all concern for modesty: I hauled off and bopped one of them in the eye.  I was pleased  later to see that she got quite a shiner.  Her old lady went and complained to Mama, who stood up for me and the response was less than genteel.  The boppee was a head taller than me. 

 I will say that my copain, Dee-Doh, climbed the tree for me and retrieved mine.  And he didn't peek at all!

Princess Lum, on the other hand, would have had a way of dealing with people who misbehaved in that fashion:  Give them an electrical zap!

Actually, we have the final answer in that most of us have long memories.  Whether a victim or an observer, we remember who did that sort of stuff and this affects how we reacted to her or him later on.  Sometimes revenge may be well-served cold on bullies.  

Thursday, August 21, 2014

How About a 1960's Saint?

So recently the Vatican came up with a twofer with regard to new saints who were also Popes, an amazing category in its own right: Pope John XXIII and Pope John Paul II.  So, stick that rank in front of these worthies.

Just don't canonize Innocent VIII, Leo IX, or Pius XII, okay?*

What's not as well-known is that some pious or otherwise folk get their sainthood chops from local cults.  If, for some reasons, a group of people deem someone worthy of sainthood status, there you go: someone getting promoted from below.

Now, most often, the Church is okay with this practice, within limits.  Thus we have a St. Philomena and a St. Expedité; probably nonexistent persons misidentified as saints.  Oh well, it makes a few people happy to pray to them for intercession.

Well, suppose a group of people who were young in the 1960's experienced some good fortunes in their times.  Someone laid some good stock market tips on Jennifer, Wally hit it big in the futures market, Tim was elected governor of some dismal Midwestern state, and some states legalized weed.  It so happens that each were thinking about, and asking for the intercession of, Jim Morrison for these lucky turns of events.  They talked about Jim Morrison having answered their prayers, and thus a cultus emerged with time.

It snowballed.  Jim Morrison's grave in Paris became a site for a pilgrimage; and believers came in droves.  Some seeming miracles were ascribed to St. Jim such as a bountiful crop of marijuana growing in California, and the sainthood express snowballed!  Religious kitsch providers in the St. Germain des Prés parish in Paris trotted out some graven images of Saint Jim Morrison, such as the one below.

Even Father Devereaux, in distant St. Cletus Parish, got on the bandwagon.  He thought that his parishioners would like the new status of St. Jim looking suspiciously like the Infant of Prague more than the gory ones already present.  Most people, after all, were grossed out by St. Agatha carrying her boobs on a platter!

*Catholics are allowed to have their own opinions about popes or bishops; they will, anyway.

The Lizard King as Saint

Tuesday, August 19, 2014

Quite Contrary About Mistresses

The term 'mistress' refers to a woman who is in a long-term amatory relationship with a man who is not her husband.  This relationship might include a component of her being at least partial supported by her paramour.  Famous mistresses, in the sense of being remembered historically, include Diane de Potiers, Nell Gwyn, Madame de Pompadour, Madame du Barry, and Lily Langtry.  One English king, Charles II, managed to have at least two mistresses simultaneously: Nell Gwyn and Louise de Kérouliac.  Now he really got around!

Recently I read in the New York Times about a misuse of campaign funds investigation in New York state.  Among other peccadilios to be investigated, one involved a legislator who was alleged to use campaign funds to pay for a girlfriend's apartment and visits to tanning parlors.

In my opinion, paying for her apartment and tanning puts her in the mistress category.

But wait!  Maybe this is just a sign of the times; or a more sophisticated usage.  Or a way of fending off eager lawyers.  Has the term girlfriend expanded into a euphemism?  I've already commented on the vagueness of that term as including female pals or buddies as well as women that a person (male or female) has an emotional relationship with.  But this is a different category of girlfriend: one that a man does not bring home to meet one's mother.  But maybe one's dissolute uncle!

This gives a new twist to that horticulturally-inclined Mistress Mary.