Amusing snippets ( hopefully )
The first public picture of my Cat Army, in its entirety. Pictured from left: Abra, Mooshy, Electra and Oedipus.
That’s how we roll in Jersey. Four cats deep. By the way, these furry soldiers occupy a mere one-half of the bed. Were this only true of the their litter box habits.
Nothing succeeds like a rerun. Nowhere is that truer than in Hollywood, which loves its sequels. Some might argue the industry loves sequels a bit too much; there seems to be a real shortage of new ideas circulating through those old familiar hallways lately.
But at last MGM announced an interesting remake concept. After three different studios passed, her come The Three Stooges. Starring Sean Penn, Jim Carrey and Benico Del Toro and helmed by the Farrelly Brothers, this mixture of comedic players and raw talent just might work. I’ll be there . . .
Heading into the weekend, a few classic pearls of Stooge wisdom:
“Why don’t I come up and see ya sometime when you’re in the nude… I mean mood.”
“We graduated with the highest temperatures in our class.”
“I baked a cake once, but it fell and killed the cat.”
“How’re we gonna shoot golf without guns?”
The Poet bought Electra and Oedipus a sock monkey for the holidays. Electra is particularly taken with her new friend. And the couch.
Whenever more than a week passes between posts, often a reader provides a nudge via a site suggestion. In the case of this entry, the source is George.
First though, thanks to everyone for the birthday cards, emails and phone calls wishing me well. Sweet vibes are always welcome. I also want to mention something else.
A medical scare in the family brought a lot of perspective these past few weeks. The good news: the person is doing well and on track for a full recovery. I just wanted to mention that, because if you are thinking any kind thoughts towards me for whatever reason, re-focus it towards them. Trust me, they need it. My thanks in advance.
And now to the anecdote that dovetails with the opener.
In grammar school, an English teacher asked for a description of our twenty-year class reunion. The scenarios were consistent with the imagination and level of the writing of most children that age: relatively muted. They were so bland, only one has stayed with me through the years.
Mary ( last name redacted by Sam ). Ms. Mary not only strung together a tight narrative of the possible events, she made every forecast fun for the audience. The class laughed from start to finish. Just brilliant.
Here’s the future she envisioned out for me:
“There’s Sam Hilliard near the bar. Sam who had the largest vocabulary of any of us back then, now has the smallest. In fact, it consists of only two words. Rum and vodka.”
At the time I laughed. Some supporters might brand Mary a meanie, but she proved right–in part. I had the biggest vocabulary of the class. Only it can’t be the smallest now, because my lexicon includes rum, vodka and wine.
See, experience has taught me there are many stages of drinking. Ten or so. Eleven when counting the sidewalks outside a liquor store.
This entry is really for the guy on the sidewalk who is banned from the trailer park. Vagrants. Bums. When drinking becomes less about the lifestyle, and all about getting lit enough to blot out the smell of one’s urine soaked clothes, one just might have a problem. For starters, one probably needs fortified wine, and one needs many bottles of it now!
So when you want to catch a king sized buzz on a Happy Meal sized budget, bumwine.com has all the details. And all the usual suspects. Cisco. Maddog 20/20. Thunderbird. Catch a ride on the Night Train. Choo-choo! Learn where to find some of the finest low-rent vintages in the country.
Values like these literally begs for a celebration in their honor. Just begs for it.