Archive for August, 2013|Monthly archive page

Whorey Hordes of Hollywood

In Coffee Fueled Rants, Uncategorized on August 27, 2013 at 12:45 pm

So the big deal this week was Miley Cyrus being nasty at the VMA awards. Is it surprising? No, not really. Was it avant garde and edgy? No, it was more of the same from the Whorey Hordes of Hollywood. Miley is now a glommer-on to all the grime that seeps out of a town that used to take pride in its creativity and artistry. Now it holds the golden calf of conformity and the stuff it finds amusing, for most of us here in the real world, you can easily find in the sleaziest parts of town or in a cut rate by the hour motel on any number of state highways.

The entertainment industry is dead, and Miley Cyrus gyrating on MTV is just the lid being pulled off another can of nails for the coffin. For years now there has been little out of tinsel town for the rest of us here to watch, not getting our kicks, as those enlightened folks on the coasts do, by a continual parade of train wreck lives to watch so we don’t feel oh so bad about our own.

So, we get to watch yet another “teen idol” become just another tramp on the tube.

What would have been really gutsy and brave would be to refuse to throw yourself on the trash heap of Hollywood, and have a moral compass, principles and a sense of self worth that does not come from a 4 square inch piece of flesh that most of our mothers told us should be covered with a clean pair of underwear every day.  When all you have is a golden twat to peddle then don’t be surprised when you are treated like a piece of meat, which Hollywood is happy to chew up and spit out.


Mysi Moose’s Bunny Biddle

In Real Life on August 18, 2013 at 6:33 pm


My niece is having a baby.

Oh, did I not say that loud enough? MY NIECE IS HAVING A BABY!!!!

She broke the news to me while we were in the Emergency Room with my sister who was having a gastrointestinal episode. More on that later.

I know this is not the way she wanted to tell me. I mean no one who has waited so long to finally get pregnant says to themselves: “Gee, how am I going to tell my favorite Aunt?” — and then proceeds to wait for her own mother to have a medical emergency to blurt out with very little fanfare: “Oh, and I am pregnant.” (stunned looks all around: whaaaaaa???)

But then, to be honest, for Mysi, this is typical. She is a planner like her mother, but for some reason the universe seems to always work against her and all the best laid plans and all that rot. Her wedding day was interrupted by tornadoes. Her own birth was during an ice storm.

So this should be an interesting pregnancy and probably a very interesting child.

For me, I am full of joy. A joy so full I do not think anything in my life compares to it to date.  Mysi has been a joy to me all her life. She is so much her own person. She has never followed the crowds or done things others do, but is so independent and strong willed, and yes, so much like me. Of course that also goes with this roller coaster emotions and the temper, and the other stuff that intelligent women are plagued with, but hey, the rewards can be glorious.

Her first purchase for this child? Books. Good books. Yea, what did I just say? Chip off the old block. Ok, so it is not TECHNICALLY my block, but Denise and I have always been so close we think the same thoughts at the same time, can have entire conversations by finishing each other’s sentences, and have always had this sixth sense of one another.

Not having had the joy of raising my own children, helping to raise Mysi was as close as it ever came for me for the whole motherhood thing. And now the child I helped raise is going to raise one of her own. And I get to kiss fat baby cheeks and goo and gah at it.

I have dubbed it Baby Bunny Biddle.

Paco be damned.




Days of Wine and Roses

In Deep Thoughts, Real Life on August 2, 2013 at 12:47 pm

This week has been a sad one for me. I have been sad, angry and unable to speak to anyone about it in the way I wish I could.  There is no one. Everyone wants to give me platitudes, cliches and pep talks. I don’t need pep talks. I need commiseration. I need a meeting of the hearts where the sobs are external wringings of the soul. It has been a week where you are forced by circumstances to accept an injustice and to “be strong for others” when you really want to fall into a great quaking blob on the floor.  It is not one of those things where words will make anything instantly better. Instead it is a time for time to heal the wound and it is slow and painful along the way.

The explanation of what has caused this grief would be long and would require so much background for anyone not involved, that it is one of those things you must bear alone. Prayer might help, if I could ask it of you. Just a short “Help Nalora through her ordeal.” would work. I will get through it, I know this intellectually, but my heart is just so overwhelmingly broken.