Wingal & Boobarella will be heading through West Virginia and western Virginia, June 2-6. PSSWR Appalachia will feature angry driving music and some homemade wine. Along the way we may find Wingal a new skanktuary to call home.
It's not too late to sign up for this exciting adventure! Want to come along? Meet us at "baggage claim"
Excuse me a moment while I wax poetic about Star Trek
There are few sounds in this universe that illicit an emotional response from me like that of the dulcet opening tones of a lone french horn. Like the familiar smells of a mother's home cooking, those were the sounds that welcomed us back to the 23rd century.
It is a different cast; this is not your mom's James T. Kirk. Christopher Pine has that rash quickness that the Shatner/Kirk of the original series did; not like the campy Kirk of movies 3-6. Pine kicked ass, took names, and nailed a green chick in minute 20. Truly, you watched him kick some ass in an IA bar and thought, yeah that would work and I would have still taken his bloody ass home and screwed him b/c he's Kirk and jesus who wouldn't hit that? Kirk is still very much King Arthur: dashing & rash yet able to save the world and instill faith in the empire.
They were all there: Sulu, Chechov, Uhura, Spock, Scotty, the ship's computer....Majel recorded it 2 weeks before she died. But Bones! OH! Now that was a character study. Part of the problem with doing a movie like this is we all over the old guys and know how they should sound and act. So you have these people stuck between recreating the characters but staying true to themselves and yet having to reflect what has been done and the styles of those before them. DeForest Kelley created the cantankerous old bastard, and Karl Urban did him a fine tribute.
But really, the best parts were the wee nuggets and inside jokes that the producers/director left in for the true fans. The guy in the red suit bites it just when he should, Sulu fencing, the Kobayashi Maru, and catch phrases galore.
Also, best use of Beastie Boys "Sabotage" in a movie. Ever.
Wingal had been terribly distracted when trying to pack for her trip to Kalamazoo. But imagine her surprise when she got to her hotel room and found that she had packed the entirely wrong Viking costume. . .
While I finish getting dressed for the 135 running of the Kentucky Derby and the help finished making the canapés and pitchers of mint juleps (Merle's rule: no G&T's until Mother's Day - it's like the no white pants after Labor Day thing), I need to make my final picks for Show, Place, & Win.
Since the passing of my betting partner, Bob (he picked the Wins 4 yrs in a row, including the long shot Go to Gin) I have occasionally placed my bets on name alone. That paid off last year with "Big Brown," but I'm not being grabbed by "Papa Clem" or "Mine That Bird," or "Advice." "Friesan Fire" is a maybe, but the jockey's jersey is boring though he has some of the better odds (13/2) in the pack. "Desert Party" looks good too; he's from the UAE and owned by Sheikh Mohammed bin Rashid al Maktoum, the United Arab Emirates Vice President, Prime Minister and Ruler of Dubai. And at 20/1 the pay out would be nice.
LOL! Listen to me! This is hysterical! Really I'll maybe bet $5 and I'll be standing on the couch yelling with a beer in my hand and a whole different kind of vagina hat on my head.
Oddly this is a post about me and the vet and crazy drugs for one of the pugs that will in no way involve me mentioning Mooch's wenis.
That right there is a stoned Fezziwig. Poor guy woke up Saturday with a hacking cough that only got worse as the day went on. Since we had a cat that had a hacking cough then passed away, we were admittedly a tad more quick to take the pug to the pug hospital. After asking how Mooch was hanging these days, the vet checked out Fezzi and determined that it wasn't cancer causing him to cough. It could have been one of a few things, so she gave us a 'script for Clavamox (I am seriously considering buying stock in that company we have so much of that in the house) and for Torbutrol. Torbutrol, the vet told us, might cause my tubby love to be lethargic and drink a lot of water.
Lethargic was an understatement. That picture is of poor Fezzi after he got off the couch and looked around the room having obviously forgotten why he got down in the first place. We took him outside . . . he looked around and then up at me as if to ask "How did I get out here?" He spent two days looking like that kid form your high school history class that would occasionally interject with something from a lecture two weeks prior.
It probably wouldn't have been so bad if we had him take the pills with water instead of gin.