Saturday, March 07, 2009
Queen|The Official Mixes
Part I & Part II
REPOSTED; New link!!!
Part I is here: files.me.com/ibernard/u9caei.mp3
Friday, March 06, 2009
The Vault|The mid-80s
Labels: Dr Manhattan
Repeat after me: SAY-ten
Liz Smith: "Never have you heard such gnashing of teeth, such cries for revenge, such shouts of betrayal and screams of outrage" (Clarke, 469). Nedda Logan, wife of director Josh Logan: "That dirty little toad is never coming to my parties again" (469). New York Magazine: "Capote Bites the Hands That Fed Him" (468). Tennessee Williams: "shockingly repugnant and thoroughly libelous" (489). Katherine Anne Porter: "unspeakably hideous. . . [Capote's] life has turned to a kind of poison that he's spitting out all over the world" (490). One "sitter," Ann Woodward, featured at length in one of "La Cote Basque's" more scandalous asides, is said to have swallowed a fatal dose of Seconal (she had been depressed for some time) after having gotten her hands on an advance copy (see Clarke, 467).
Labels: Truman Capote ANSWERED PRAYERS
And mine. Just to keep things in balance.
The interpretation above is for your transit selected for today:
born on 4 May 1960
Saturn Trine Saturn
activity period from middle of October 2008 until beginning of August 2009
Thursday, March 05, 2009
And you, Mr or Ms Critical...your horoscope had some interesting words.
Mars Conjunction Chiron, , exact at 10:43
activity period from 4 March 2009 to 6 March 2009
Attention to all the readers of this blog:
don't read this.
If you think something might remotely be about you,
please, check to see if I put your name, address, city, state, zip,
email address, and phone number.
If so, then it is about you.
If I DIDN'T post a name or a city,
then take it as you may, with a grain of salt.
I am sick and fucking tired of these piss-ant little people who get their panties in a knot because they think they are exempt from my thoughts, written, and, in some cases, photographed.
I've taken enough communications law classes to know my rights.
And you (and you know who you are) have no fucking right in telling me how I need to edit my life to exclude you.
Sure, there were good times, but most of the time it was your way,
or no way at all.
Remember when I couldn't bring my greyhound up to your place?
Then your "friend" did, and you totally denied saying I couldn't bring Grace up to your place.
Remember when I told you about my back problems,
and you said I was being grand?
Nobody asked you to pay the fucking medical bills,
and nobody asked you to go through the surgery instead of me.
You need to take a good hard look in the mirror,
after you remove your mask.
And come out from your shell, and actually interact with people,
before you make judgements.
And last I checked, you're not on the payroll as my editor.
So shut the fuck up.
I've got a MEAN FUCKING AIM!
Labels: pineapple tossing
Scribbles on scraps of paper
Scribbles on scraps of paper
Wednesday, March 04, 2009
& about that pre-op tranny I never dated!!!
Dayle + me, c. 1985 - 1987
The Saint|2nd and St Marks
I was there! Proof!
Note that I paid a mere $20, and on a house card, for a club known for its exorbitant fees, and the policy that you could only get in with a sponsoring member in good standing. Oh. And you couldn't be black (in 1983) and don't even think about it if you were a woman, unless your name was Grace Jones, or you were the entertainment dropped from the cavernous ceiling. Thanks to my great friend Bob Braucci I was able to circumvent all that and slide right in.
All I can tell you about The Saint's 1983 Hallowe'en party is that the music was so fucking awesome, and that when I walked out of the place at 4p the next afternoon, it was the most shocking and decadent feeling I'd EVER had in my life.
Then I boarded a Greyhound bus and came home!
Another late afternoon exit from the original den of iniquity.
Before the jump over to the Greyhound bus to get back home,
I remember purchasing a huge bouquet of "New York flowers" for my mother,
as this was Mother's Day, I think. Or a week later.
Either way, all I could think of was "bless me Father, BOY have I sinned!"
Tuesday, March 03, 2009
Is a bullet good for America?
Not that I believe anyone needs to DIE, but if the media weren't so fucking stupid, they wouldn't be giving Rush so much attention, and he'd disappear like yesterday's diaper.
Instead, they keep playing the same fucking loop, ignoring other (perhaps more important) news, and the cigar-smoking pig keeps spewing his vomit all over the networks.
Rush, if you hope that Obama fails, I hope there's a bullet out there with your name on it.
Personally, I'd love to sew your lips shut.
After I cut your balls off and shoved them down your throat.
In the future, people will remember Barack Obama.
They won't remember critics, like you.
Labels: Rush Limbaugh
Monday, March 02, 2009
self-portrait with Grace; Hollywood FL
Mario is an 80something full-blooded Italian stone mason, who is now a general contractor.
I can't remember exactly how he got the gash in the middle of his head,
but there was no major hospital or surgery available when it happened to him in his early 20s,
so now, well, he has a more memorable forehead than Mikhail Gorbechev.
Sony Cyber-Shot DSC-T33, natural light
Sunday, March 01, 2009
The Vault|Miami 1990s
Self-portrait, March 1980
Here's a few facts about this photograph which truly illustrates that a picture is worth a thousand words:
• the original is a 35mm color infrared slide
• the location of the photograph was Lake Quassapaug, Middlebury, CT
• there are no scars on my spine to this point.
Since Spring Break 1980, I have had five (5) spinal surgeries:
• 1980, lumbar laminectomy (Dr Michael Karnasiewicz)
• 1986, cervical excision, rear, C2-C3 (Dr Michael Karnasiewicz)
• 2001, lumbar discectomy (Dr Kenneth Kramer)
• 2002, lumbar discectomy (Dr Kenneth Kramer)
• 2008, ACDF, C4-C5, C6-C7; (Dr Kenneth Kramer)
And this is omitting the fact that I was bedridden for one year (approx 1972, sixth grade), and had to wear a Milwaukee brace for about 1 and one-half years (1971 – 1973)
So I've had my surgeries, worn my braces, and spent time bedridden (during which, among other things, I did read the dictionary!)
I have military-perfect posture, can put both palms flat on the floor without bending my knees one bit, and I have 100% ROM (range of motion) post-op for the ACDF.
I wouldn't wish all this on anyone.
Here's my thought:
The Banned Photograph
scan from Polaroid original; circa 1995, Miami
Labels: David Vance Miami
Labels: mood meter