Monday, February 28, 2011

Eating a Bowlful of Sharp Glass

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    Walking.

    Walking has become a monu- mental endeavor. I am so out of shape that the simple act of walking from point A to point B is like marathon exercise. I did my walk this afternoon, heading down to 91st street and back, and as usual I picked up a stray. A homeless man that at first was just walking at the same pace beside me down the sidewalk. But once these mental defectives notice this, they begin talking to themselves, or in other words, YOU.

    I hate people so much when I'm walking that I hate when the homeless, who are not even not talking to you even more. I gritted my teeth and was about to stop short and let him walk on. I got to the end of the block, and as he stopped to wait for the light to change to cross the fucking street, I gleefully turned around and headed back in the complete opposite direction. There is something wonderful about times like that, when you can show complete disregard for idiots and just walk off. It's magical, do you hear me? Magical!

    Okay, my right knee and left calf begin to protest the walk, but what the fuck? I'll get home and sit down and it'll all be over. I did, relaxing, but not sleeping, merely writing on my laptop until it was time for me to get ready to go and meet DJ down in the Village. I got dressed, killed a little time, because I tend to get down to the Astor Place Starbucks so fucking early that I have to find something to do for forty five minutes. So this time I killed a little time, prepping a short story for mailing to a publisher. Printing it out, shoving it into an envelope with a self addressed stamped envelope and addresses. Before long, it was ready to be mailed.

    I slipped out into the night and dealt with the walk, the stairs, the steep inclines of the subway stations and other whatnot to ride the trains down to Astor Place, and got to the Starbucks ten minutes early instead of forty five. I stood outside, panting, out of breath from walking up simple flights of stairs. Oh mi gawd! What the fuck did I do to myself? Allow my muscles to atrophy?

    DJ showed up and asked if I wanted to go play pool as my birthday present. Hell's yeah. I haven't played pool in so long that I would love to do a game or two. He stopped off for a pizza first to eat, and then we went to Amsterdam Billiards. We played several games for the rest of the night until we grew exhausted, no longer able to even play the game. I have to admit, I was more sore than tired. The soreness was making me tired. The simple act of bending, twisting, stretching and so forth to make a shot was like yoga exercise to me. After awhile that shit began hurting my tender atrophying muscles.

    When I left the pool hall I was sore from head to motherfucking toe. I wished DJ goodnight, thanked him for the wonderful birthday present and headed home, nearly limping, my knees aching, muscles throbbing and weak, bones brittle with pain. I was hurting like a man rolled over with a steamroller driven by an insane nun. On top of all this pain I had to WALK to the nearest subway station, which was on 14th street, many blocks away, CLIMB up and down stairs, MARCH up and down inclines in the subway, STAND up in train cars, and deal with MOVING about to avoid other straphangers. Fuck this shit. But it had to be done to get home.

    Walking into my room, my entire body was on fire. I stumbled in more than walked, and undressed painfully. I did some light typing but could take the pain and exhaustion no more. I crawled into bed and got an hour's sleep. This was the only solace from the suffering. That was until I awoke and it pounced on me once again. I went to my medicine shelf and found the bottle of hydrocodone and popped two, hoping that it would deal primarily with the terrific pain in my back. By some miracle it dealt with all the pain in my body, washing the entire framework of agony away.

    I breathed a sigh of relief. I honestly have to do this shit more often or I'm going to doom myself. I can no longer just stay in the room, stretched across the bed. I have to exercise, go places, do things.

    Or die.

    HobobobSource URL: http://extravagancedeplumes.blogspot.com/2011/02/
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Low Flow Toilets Causing Major Stink

    San Francisco, Feb 28, 2011. San Francisco's changed their building codes to require that new construction have low-flow toilets.

    And this has turned the city into giant stinkhole!

    Cuting the water allowed for each flush in half does save water, but it also results in more sludge backing up inside the sewer pipes.

    According to Tyrone Jue, spokesman for the city Public Utilities Commission, this has created a rotten-egg stench near AT&T Park and elsewhere, especially during the dry summer months.

    Apparently, the low flow "flush" doesn't provide enough water to move sewage through the pipes fast enough. So some of the sludge sticks to the pipes. Like a septic "hardening of the arteries."  And when you have enough of these low flow toilets in an area you end up with a horrible smell.

    The city has already spent $100 million over the past five years to upgrade its sewer system and sewage plants, in part to combat the odor problem.

    Now officials are stocking up on a $14 million, three-year supply of highly concentrated sodium hypochlorite - better known as bleach - to act as an odor eater and to disinfect the city's treated water before it's dumped into the bay. It will also be used to sanitize drinking water.

    This means that 8.5 million pounds of bleach is either being poured down city drains or into the drinking water supply every year.

    And some city residents think this is a bad idea.

    A "Don't Bleach Our Bay" alert has just gone out from eco-blogger Adam Lowry who says that the city would be much better off using a disinfectant like hydrogen peroxide - or better yet, a solution that would naturally break down the bacteria.

    Are the environmentally friendly, low-flow toilets are worth the trouble? They have helped cut San Francisco's annual water consumption by about 20 million gallons.... if you can stand the smell!Source URL: http://extravagancedeplumes.blogspot.com/2011/02/
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Proof that everythings is just fine in Libya...

Last US veteran of WWI dies

    I have been tracking the passing of WWI veterans here since 2007. Yesterday saw the death of the last US veteran, Frank Buckles. He was 110 (thanks to Steve at The Yellow Something Something for drawing my attention to the news).


    Buckles was born in Missouri in 1901. He enlisted in the United States Army in August 1917 when aged 16 (Like my father he lied about his age to join the services). He served in England and France, driving ambulances and motorbikes. After the Armistice he escorted prisoners of war back to Germany and was discharged in 1920.

    In the 1940s, Buckles worked for a shipping company in the Philippines. He was interned by the Japanese in 1942 spending over three years in the Los Banos Camp in Manila. He was rescued on February 23, 1945.

    He died of natural causes yesterday, 26 days after his 110th birthday.

    Rest in Peace

    There are now just two WWI veterans alive, both British: Claude Choules (now resident in Australia) who served in the Royal Navy and Florence Green who served in the WRAF as a waitress.Source URL: http://extravagancedeplumes.blogspot.com/2011/02/
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NYC staycation

    Our staycation in New York last week was really refreshing and relaxing. (Thanks again to Miss Moss for guest posting!) While my mom took care of Toby, Alex and I met up with friends, rode bikes to Williamsburg, went bowling (for real), got massages, sipped gin cocktails at this rad bar, saw The King's Speech, hit up the Guggenheim, and went ice skating in Central Park. It was so great to just be together and "knock around," as Alex says. We felt like tourists in our own city.

    We also chilled with my mom and Toby, including brunch at a Mexican place in our neighborhood, where Toby thought the tablecloth was delicious. :) We miss you already, Mama!
    Source URL: http://extravagancedeplumes.blogspot.com/2011/02/
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Some things never change


    Watercolour by surgeon Charles Bell of a solider wounded at the Battle of Waterloo



    Watercolour of Private Green, September 1918 prior to reconstructive surgery by Harold Gillies, the ather of modern plastic surgery.


    The surgical skills may have improved in the intervening century but the workload of the army surgeon certainly did not...

    Both paintings are included in the current Watercolour exhibition at the Tate Britain.

    The exhibition which I visited today, is a comprehensive study of (mainly) British watercolour art from about 1200 to 2010. Arranged by themes it was unsurprising that the wart art had the greatest impact on me, especially Eric Taylor's study of corpses at Belsen.

    The exhibition has some dross and a fair few works that left me unmoved either way. That said there is plenty to enjoy (particularly some well loved Turners and Blakes) and it is wel worth a couple of hours.



    The same could not be said for the Susan Hiller exhibition - Except for the installation Witness which I lovedSource URL: http://extravagancedeplumes.blogspot.com/2011/02/
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A Comment From A Satisfied Customer

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    "Ah ha ha, Ard Azz here, loving it here in Miami, and loving Hobobob's blog! Once again he's back with his witty insights and loving commentary on the human condition. I can sleep at nights knowing that there is such a conscientious man questioning what he sees is going wrong in this country. He's another Rush Limb...er, Rush Limb...errr, the fat guy. I look forward to reading his award winning blog posts every day and I have to say, I wouldn't be able to put my dentures in without him in the mornings. Thank you Hobobob. Keep up the good work!"
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God of Love

    Yahoo!!! Our friend Luke Matheny's short film God of Love won an Oscar last night! (Well, he's actually a friend of a friend; but we've met him at parties:) I almost fell off the sofa when he got to go up on stage and accept his award.

    God of Love is an amazing 18-minute comedy about a lounge-singing darts champ who receives a mysterious package of passion-inducing darts. Here's the trailer, below; you can download it (for $2!) on iTunes or watch it on the big screen at this New York theatre. Huge congratulations, Luke!
    Source URL: http://extravagancedeplumes.blogspot.com/2011/02/
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Profiles in Stupidity: Congressman Barney Frank

    With this issue of the Spin Cycle we are starting a new recurring feature. "Profiles in Stupidity" will highlight the dumbest politicians in America today.

    Congressman Barney Frank, D-MA, is the Representative for Massachusetts 4th congressional district, serving since 1981. He is a member of the Democratic Party. He won his first full term in 1980 and has been re-elected ever since by wide margins.

    From 2007 to 2011, Frank was the chairman of the House Financial Services Committee, which oversees the entire financial services industry including the securities, insurance, banking, and housing industries and was considered to be one of the most powerful members of Congress.

    As Chairman of this committee, Frank had a key role in creating all the rules and regulations that forced banks to write bad loans.

    He was the architect of the 2008 housing market collapse and financial meltdown, but took absolutely no responsibility for it. He blamed everyone but himself for the crisis.

    Congressman Frank then assumed the posture of an innocent bystander rather than a powerful head of the House Financial Services Committee, saying:

    'The private sector got us into this mess. The government has to get us out of it. The current financial crisis is the spawn of the free market run amok, with the political class guilty only of failing to rein the capitalists in. The Wall Street meltdown was caused by bad decisions that were made by people in the private sector,"
    But was this true?

    Lets look at some things Barney Frank told us before the housing market collapse:
    "The more people, in my judgment, exaggerate a threat of safety and soundness, the more people conjure up the possibility of serious financial loses to the Treasury, which I do not see." Sept 10, 2003
    "These two entities, Fannie Mae and Freddie Mac, are not facing any kind of financial crisis." Sept 11, 2003
    "I want to roll the dice a little more in this situation towards subsidizing housing." Sept 25, 2003

    "Fannie and Freddie are fundamentally sound, they are not in danger of going under... I do think their prospects going forward are very sound." July 14, 2008
    The roots of this crisis go back to the Carter administration. That was when government officials, egged on by left-wing activists, began accusing mortgage lenders of racism and "redlining" because urban blacks were being denied mortgages at a higher rate than suburban whites.

    The pressure to make more loans to minorities (read: to borrowers with weak credit histories) became relentless. Congress passed the Community Reinvestment Act, empowering regulators to punish banks that failed to "meet the credit needs" of "low-income, minority, and distressed neighborhoods."

    Later, President Clinton and the Democrat Party expanded the CRA, and Attorney General Janet Reno even threatened to throw bank CEOs in prison if they failed to write enough loans to minorities.

    Congressman Frank was the chairman of the committee that wrote the rules, and was supposed to regulate and provide oversight for banks. Frank and his party created this mess, and now they act like innocent bystanders. Never before in our history has anyone had as much control and influence over a problem they created, and has so completely disavowed any responsibility for it.Source URL: http://extravagancedeplumes.blogspot.com/2011/02/
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Westminster council - Caring and compassionate

    My thanks go to Skuds for drawing my attention to this little tale.

    Accordng to Ekklesia Westminster Council has opened a four week consultation on a new byelaw which will fine people in the Victoria area if they “lie down or sleep in any public place”, “deposit bedding” and distribute free food and drink.

    This byelaw will affect rough sleepers and charity workers in the Vitoria area,particularly the area around Westminster Cathedral where charities regularly give food to homeless persons

    The consultation period is running until 25 March.

    A copy of the proposed byelaw can be sen here. The bye law, if enacted, will make the following illegal in an area around Westminster Cathedral:


    • No person shall lie down and sleep in any public place
    • No person shall at any time deposit any sleeping materials used or intended to be used as bedding in or on any public place
    • No peson shall distribute any free refreshment in or on any public place (sporting events and free samples of food excepted)
    • No person shall knowingly permit any person to distribute any free refreshment in or on any public place
    There yopu have it. Nobody is pretending that food runs solves the issue of rough sleeping. It does provide a lifeline though.

    Banning rough sleepers and charities that provide food to them will solve absolutely nothing either except to move the problem to another area. From the council's perspective (and to paraphrase Stalin) it's a case of "No homeless, no problem"... at least the problem will not be across Victoria Street from the council HQ.

    It's not law yet and hopefully it will be ditched but the proposal hardly sits well with Cameron's Big Society... Then again the council is not exactly known for its compassion (remember Shirley Porter?)Source URL: http://extravagancedeplumes.blogspot.com/2011/02/
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Sunday, February 27, 2011

Playing Golf on the Moon

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    I'm trying to write this blog post.

    I'm really trying. I'm just pissed off that I can't think of anything but Skeks playing on the elevator. It's hard to write a blog. It's very difficult letting the brain kick in and find something to grouse over. All I can think about are the little things in life, and it brings me back to the Queen of all Mommy Bloggers....Ms. Heather Armstrong.

    I don't have a washing machine to complain about. Neither do I have children, or a husband... not that I want one of those, but a wife is another story. Nope. Don't have one of those either. All I've got is me and my lonesome...and movies. Lots and lots of movies, because of Netflix. I could complain about washing dishes, but I like that shit. I could complain about chopping up veggies, but I like that shit too. I can bitch and moan about being alone, but I have to admit, I like it. I like it a lot.

    I can bitch about my mis- shapened body. I'm getting fat in strange places, such as under my arms, across my chest and my love handles have turned into a tire that has turned into a barrel. I have a problem with this. I don't give a shit. Not that I'm feeling good about getting fatter, I just don't let it bum me out. Listen, I have been depressed for an entire month and on a down slide for two or three. During that time I did nothing but lay in bed. I didn't have the energy to keep walking and burning calories like I did in September and so the weight slowly crept back.

    But now Wellbutrin is back in my blood- stream, and it's starting to kick my ass. My up is going way up, and my down is almost gone. With this fact I exercise. I have the energy for it, so I'm doing it. Today I got up and got the fuck out of the room. I marched down to 91st street, one block more than yesterday, and I huffed and puffed less. My muscles were very knotted afterward though, but I was not half as winded as I was yesterday. This is beautiful.

    So I do what I have to do. I do this and I do that now that I have the energy. But I still don't know what to write about. I'm sitting down at my laptop, staring at the screen and chewing on my upper lip, but still I have nothing to say. If everyone else lives a mundane life, mine must be super mundane, super droll. Even Paula, across the hall, has been silent today, giving me nothing to bitch about.

    So, I guess you can say that today was clearly a very good day for me, and that I should be happy with it. I should, for the first time in my ungrateful life, be pleased with the day and vow to make the best of it. But I do not. I do not vow. I've just decided that today I'm going to blog and blog about absolutely nothing. Just let my fingers tickle the keyboard and see what lovely letters pop up on the screen. As if this blog has to have some damned meaning to begin with. It doesn't. All it needs is something stupid to come out of my pineapple head.

    And I'm full of stupid shit. Further, now that the Wellbutrin is building in my blood- stream, I am a very happy camper, doing whatever it is that I want to do, and now having the energy to do it with. You'd be proud of me. I've also been working on my numerous short stories and sending them out to publishers also. I'm acting like a real author now, planning and scheming on how to get my manuscript into the marketplace. That is the thing. Keep those query letters, cover letters, synopses, bios out there to that they can be read and acted upon.

    Just like a fisherman gets up early in the morning, baits and casts his line and sits by the water all day until evening, it takes persistence to win in the publishing game. This tenacity I KNOW I have. I find it very hard to give up anything. I will not give this up. So with that being said, I'm going to print out more short stories and keep them out in the marketplace along with my novels and see if I can start a string of successes that begin something great in my life.

    Either that or I'm going to have the energy to write my blog, but absolutely nothing to write about. All this because I don't have a washing machine to bitch and moan over.

    Sorry.

    HobobobSource URL: http://extravagancedeplumes.blogspot.com/2011/02/
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Versace Fall 2011 Runway Review

    The luxury Lifestyle blog (the home of luxury Lifestyle) presents Versace Fall 2011 Runway Review.

      
    Oscar-worthy dresses – of course. No one does sexy like Donatella Versace, but who would have thought that Versace would present stunning bridal-worthy gowns for her Fall 2011 collection? Naturally, the designer’s signature high-impact, skin-revealing looks were on the runway, but in a more restrained way this season, which was achieved mainly by keeping looks in monochromatic palettes so as to not take away from daring cuts, graphic accents, or intricate appliqué embellishments.

     
    Aside from flowing gowns, there were flawlessly tailored military-inspired outerwear and cocktail dresses including a gorgeous black military coat that came belted and accented with gold hardware, which opened the show and then later made its way out in a white iteration. The gold hardware detailing translated into separates and little black dresses as well, and lest anyone think Versace left fur out this season, it was shown wrapped around models' necks, on outerwear, and even in one case accenting the sleeves of a belted white coat.

     
    Brava Versace for creating a parade of tasteful high impact looks that didn’t rely on sex appeal for their luster.

    Similar Posts:

    Antonio Marras Fall 2011 Runway Review
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    Save and share Versace Fall 2011 Runway Review

    To share this post with your family and friends? Click the button below to send them an email or save this to your favorite social network.Source URL: http://extravagancedeplumes.blogspot.com/2011/02/
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Antonio Marras Fall 2011 Runway Review

    The luxury Lifestyle blog (the home of luxury Lifestyle) presents Antonio Marras Fall 2011 Runway Review.

    Italian men love their mamas and designer Antonio Marras is eager to express his gratitude to his own. Marras dedicated a whole collection inspired by his Italian mother for Fall 2011. Long, lean silhouettes in black referenced a 1940s style. Beautiful, brightly color floral prints stood out on the solid canvases. Menswear was a huge part of the collection shown in houndstooth jackets, white collar shirts, and tailored trousers.


    Stripes were also a major component shown in different widths on dresses and sweaters. They had a nautical feel as well as a menswear cut tailored for a lady. A series of gorgeous full skirts were also shown in dark colors and prints in pleated silks.

     
    Another nod towards Marras’ Italian mother were the knee-high socks that looked fresh and modern paired with a front slit, wool skirt. Memories from Marras childhood were referenced in the prints, styling, and remodeling of menswear into womenswear which was a habit of his mother's. From the looks of his collection, Italian mothers know how to dress.

     
    Similar Posts:

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    Emporio Armani x Reebok EA7

    Save and share Antonio Marras Fall 2011 Runway Review

    To share this post with your family and friends? Click the button below to send them an email or save this to your favorite social network.Source URL: http://extravagancedeplumes.blogspot.com/2011/02/
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Yet more nephew

Blair politely asks Ghaddafi to stop murdering protestors

    It seems that Tony Blair is looking to redeem himself somewhat for his past associations with Ghaddafi.

    According to the Independent he phoned Ghaddafi twice on Friday and asked him to stop killing protesters rising up against the regime.

    Unsurprisingly Blair’s appeal fell on deaf ears…Source URL: http://extravagancedeplumes.blogspot.com/2011/02/
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Kate and William invite butcher and baker to royal wedding... but not President Obama and First Lady

    Prince William and Kate Middleton to wed Apr 29
    London, Feb 27, 2011. The upcoming Royal Wedding for Prince William and Kate Middleton will be held without the presence of President Barack Hussein Obama, D-Kenya, and his wife.

    The Royal Couple had decided to limit the guest list to "people we like," so the Obamas have not been invited to attend the event.

    "We tried hard to like the Obamas, but after they returned the bust of Sir Winston Churchill, and then gave mummy that iPod with all those dreadful gansta rap songs on it, we really had no choice," Prince William told us.

    "This is my wedding, and it's my special day" Ms. Middleton told us. "The very last thing I want is these loud rude Kenyans ruining it with there Electric Slide and Boogie Woogie dances."

    It probably didn't help the Obama case either when President Obama gave Russian Premier Vladmir Putin the British atomic bomb serial numbers, in an effort to increase the Obama poll ratings in Moscow.

    But plenty of Bucklebury residents will rub shoulders with royalty and celebrities such as David and Victoria Beckham after receiving a gold-embossed invitation from the couple. 

    Martin Fidler, Butcher

    While the Obamas will not be present, Martin Fidler, the butcher, and his wife Sue are said they were delighted to be on the guest list.

    “We’re really looking forward to the day,” said Mr Fidler. “We’ve known Kate’s mother Carole for years, before she met Kate’s father Mike. They’ve got on with their lives, built up a good business and all their children are a credit to them.”
     

    John Haley, Innkeeper

    Ryan Naylor, the village postman, is also on the list, along with John Haley, landlord of the Old Boot Inn where the couple sometimes enjoy a quiet drink.

    Mr Haley told us he is really looking forward to attending the Royal Wedding. "This will be a real thrill for me and my entire family," he told us.


    Chan Shingadia and Husband Hash
    Chan Shingadia and her husband Hash, who run the local convenience store, have already accepted their invitation.

    Mrs Shingadia, 42, said: “We’ve really got to know Kate. She is really caring. She is like a human being, not a celebrity, and she is always a good customer. William is very down to earth”.

    The shopkeepers have become so familiar with the couple’s tastes that they ensure they are always stocked up on Haribo sweets, which they both like, and mint Vienetta, which is the Prince’s favourite icecream.

    Not invited, and not too happy about it

    Miss Middleton and Prince William are anxious for their guest list to reflect their private mix of friends and acquaintances as well as fellow royals, celebrities and foreign dignitaries.

    They said they don't want "low life Kenyan trash ruining their event of a lifetime." A harsh statement, perhaps, but it is their wedding after all.

    The wedding will take place on April 29.

    Source URL: http://extravagancedeplumes.blogspot.com/2011/02/
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A Joyful Message From Our Sponsor

A Comment From an UN-happy Customer

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    "Fuck you, Hobobob! This blog was going good while you were on Zoloft because you had SHUT THE FUCK UP! I was beginning to get used to you whining and bitching about how tired and weak you were. You were becoming my idol in complete hobo wastefulness. Then you got back on that damned Wellbutrin and I can already tell the difference. Just start with your maniac shit once more and I swear I will go over your head to management to straighten you out. Mark my words you hobo bastid, your days are numbered!"

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UN imposes tough sanctions on Libya...

    The UN Security Council has finally taken its gloves off and has voted 15-0 to impose some of the toughest sanctions imposed on any member state.

    All Libyan Airilnes fights are suspended except for a single weekly flight to Kerry International Airport.

    Import of Ferrero Rocher chocolates will be limited to one box per citizen per month

    Members of Ghaddafi's immediate family will be refused entry to Parc Asterix near Paris - unless accompanied by a responsible adult.

    The Security Council has also rejected Libya's plan for the immediate abolition of Switzerland although consideration will be given to a plan for the country to be phased out by 2040Source URL: http://extravagancedeplumes.blogspot.com/2011/02/
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A Scene For Oscar Sunday


    Stanley Motts: "You want me to produce your war?"
    Conrad Brean: "Not a war. It's a pageant...we need a theme, a song, some visuals...it's a pageant. It's like the Oscars. That's why we came to you."
    Motss: "I never won an Oscar."
    Brean: "And it's a damn shame you didn't. But you produced the Oscars."
    Motts: "Yes. Indeed I did. You know, you're a writer, that's your script. You're a director...but if you're the producer, what did you do? Nobody knows what you do. You're a producer, all you've got is the credit. You see? Some plaques on the wall. They don't know what we do. But don't get me started."Source URL: http://extravagancedeplumes.blogspot.com/2011/02/
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Saturday, February 26, 2011

Holding Onto My Thought Processes

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    I'm livid.

    I really am. I'm pissed off and confused and all of the above. I spend hundreds... NO, THOU- SANDS of hours making a single, award winning post for my readers and what do I get out of it? MORE READERS! Not that I don't like more readers, but OTHER bloggers are making a killing in the blogosphere. They are living high on the hog by writing about mundane things. Oh, you think I'm bullshitting you? Just recently I read through a New York Times article about an ex-mormon housewife in Utah named Heather Armstrong...the Queen of the Mommy bloggers.

    Mommy bloggers. I never knew there was such a thing. I never even knew that such a thing was interesting to people. She talks about home appliances, taking care of children, her husband, her pets, her treatment for depression, blah, blah, blah. Wow! I thought my life was not interesting and that I was boring my readers. Not that I'm in envy of Ms. Armstrong, but I'M IN ENVY OF MS. ARMSTRONG!!!

    She is the only blogger on the lastest Forbes list of the 'Most Influential Women in Media', coming in at number 26. Okay, now that may be 25 slots behind Oprah, but that one slot behind Tina Brown! Further, her site brings in $30,000 to $50,000 a month or more in income, which she won't even confirm to reporters. The agency that sells ads for her site, Federated Media says of her that she is "...one of our most successful bloggers," and that "...our most successful bloggers can gross $1 million." What the fuck? How in the fuck do I become a successful blogger? How do you do that shit?

    Ms. Armstrong has 100,000 visitors a day to her site. Okay. I just cleared my 100,000 unique visitor mark just a few days ago, but I do top over 50,000 visitors a month here. Well, I guess that's just a fucking drop in the bucket when it comes to being a real blogger. So what can I say? I'm a small fry in a big ocean. But I don't need millions of dollars. Just a few thousand will do. But then again....thinking about it, how will that shit mess up my mystique of being a homeless, destitute blogger? I'm broke, busted and disgusted, just dragging my ass along the Earth, living on fumes for cash. If I start making scads of money how will that affect my blog, or me?

    If I could become like Ms. Armstrong, or any of those other 'successful bloggers' what would be the outcome of my life when I land a few book deals and move into a real apartment with a kitchen and a bathroom? When crazy people are no longer my neighbors? When I'm feeling better and don't have to live on anti-depressants, anti-anxiety, anti-delusional and bi-polar medications? What happens to the old hobo then when he is no longer a hobo? Will I spend thousands of hours on a single blog post, like this one, going over each and every word for its impact, it's special slant so that it can win a hobo-award and be accepted as authentic by the readers that I do have?

    I'm going straight to Hell now, what would things look like if the trip was cut short? If it was reversed? If I found the woman of my dreams, the job of my dreams, the blog of my dreams, the dreams of my dreams?  Well, I know you must think I'm lost in all of these questions, but frankly, I'm not. I'll never be a Ms. Armstrong. I'll never turn a dime for this blog, largely because I don't want to. And largely because if all my dreams were to come true I know exactly what would happen to me.

    I'd wake up. I'd pop up out of my bed, in my SRO and look around at the same drab four walls that bring me so much comfort. Then turn to stare at my beaten and battered laptop of several years, climb behind the keyboard and log onto this blog and bitch and moan. Then I'll watch some fucked up show on television, something really stupid and curl up in the center of my bed and close my eyes, dreaming once again of being a successful blogger and going on with this life that I have been destined to live.

    That's just the way things go.

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