Archive for December 12th, 2009

The haps: HRH has landed.

December 12, 2009

My estranged (it does not get stranger than us!) husband the HRH is here to visit my daughter and me for Christmas. Picked him up from the airport this morning. My gas light came on ten miles from the airport when I was already afraid I’d be late, so I ignored it and got close to God, you know, asking Him how He’d been lately and casually mentioning I’d like to keep going on fumes until at least the parking structure. Then I’d never been to the part of the airport in which HRH’s ghetto plane, because we have no money, was landing, and that part of the Sacramento airport is under construction to boot, so the signs were pretty confusing. It was raining to beat the band. No covered parking. No umbrella. Pulled to the wrong section, had to walk back for ticket, got soaked, had to run through the lot to the terminal. When I finally tracked him down, his cell had been stolen on the flight. Typical pigfuck of a morning for the both of us (and not in the good way).


Total pigfuck and NOT in the good way.

We’ll see if we can get through the rest of the day and the next, like, ten with less damage. But if you hear of earthquakes and the plague and the seventh seal breaking in the next week, relax; it was just two very broken, neurotic people with cursed karma, trying to order dinner.


If only we hadn’t tried together to eat yellow curry on a Tuesday … none of this would’ve happened.

And if you are a fan of HRH and have not seen him in a bit, he leaves the 23rd so hit us up. Text or call on my phone, most likely. Not on his cell unless you want To Catch A Thief.

Liberated Negative Space o’ the Day: Sucks to yer minimalism, you luxuriant pig

December 12, 2009


London, England.

Sam Haskins Month, Day 12: A slick ballet

December 12, 2009

Technically, the telling has more in common with a slick ballet sequence from a well directed film than with the conventional picture story. It flows and it tingles. It has continuity and superb presentation. It is made up of an agreeable mixture of fun and hyperbole, extravagance and restraint. Nothing is just plain statement, so that the reader has the pleasure of exercising his own powers of interpretation.(Norman Hall, review of Cowboy Kate)

Spiritually, it is a song of praise for the loveliness of woman and it has a lyrical fragrance which harks back to Spenser or Ben Jonson. In all there is a pervading sense of fun.

Daily Batman: Making love in a cape is a dangerous proposition

December 12, 2009


via Paul Tobin

Bat tat, too.