Potpourri of Crap

Saturday, May 29th, 2004
Well, those of you who check in with me regularly know that I have a hideous new hobby with which I'm completely and totally engaged...I can't get enough of them...I read about them, I look at them, I feed them too much, I've even accidentally killed a few.

Quite the adventure. So lately---something a bit "different" has been going on...maybe because it's spring. And spring is the time for lovers, right? Or at least--in Paris, I think it may be. So---I wrote to my confidantes at the ole Worm Talk Forum:Condensation
Posted by dowbright z6 in Missouri on Thu, May 27, 04 at 13:05 (I'm dowbright in Zone 6! Me!)
I have read so much in the past month or so that some facts are mixing in my mind...

DID I read somewhere that worms love to mate in the condensation in the cracks of the bin, say where the top is hinged to the cooler I'm using?

When I open it lately---there are usually a dozen worms up there, and I think they're doin' it! But then there is an open ledge and I have to take them down as they're about to fall out of the back of the cooler, and I can't get to them there to rescue them! There's quite a bit of condensation---though the materials in the bin seem to be the proper dampness.

I guess I'm asking---are they having fun or are they trying to escape?

Miz B

Now, as the next post shows, I am not the only person gone mad here on the ole mother earth:

Follow-Up Postings:RE: Condensation
* Posted by: hinzy z5 PA (My Page) on Thu, May 27, 04 at 16:30

Miz B,

Great question! I have the Worm Factory [plastic
stacking system] the top tray, is empty with a cover, gets very moist. Most days of the month worms are in it other days they aren't. I need help on this too. If I had to guess, I think they're doin'it too.

Hinzy

Now comes understanding and knowledge, because working with worms is actually Dr. Kelly's lot in life---she PICKED it...she studies them, at work and at home. Oddly enough, she seems normal.

RE: Condensation
* Posted by: Kelly_sw WA state on Thu, May 27, 04 at 18:15

Worms don't do the group sex thing; they're pretty demure when it comes down to it. As such, it's unlikely that when you see them massing on the bin edges that this is their secret trysting spot.

Neither do worms 'try' to escape; they either do or they don't. In most situations when you find some worms on the bin ledge you will still find the majority of them in the bedding. Those on the ledge are simply enjoying the fresh air in the presence of the condensation. You can find humans on any given week on Mount Everest, too. Think of the ledge dwellers as worm adventurers. ::grin::

By the way; you needn't be worried that, in the event there WAS some hanky panky going on on the bin ledge, pushing them back into the bin would result in coitus interruptus. Little disturbs worms during the exchange of reproductive material!
Kelly S

Now THAT is a relief. God knows I wouldn't want to be the Causation of Coitus Interruptus. Sheeesh. Gimme a break! So I wisely responded with further reckonings about my bin-ledged love bunnies:

RE: Condensation
* Posted by: dowbright z6 in Missouri (My Page) on Fri, May 28, 04 at 23:15 (Remember: I'm dowbright Zone 6)

Kelly, I trust you 100%, but I have seen these worms, and I'm not saying they were doing it with more than one other worm...but believe me, these guys are DOING IT and with a lot of gusto...maybe as a big group of monogamous couples...

I'm glad they've found a nice place to hang out when they neck, lose control, and heaven only knows if they practice safe sex...but I have worms who apparently can't get enough of it.
And you're right---when I push them back in----they continue to go at it...

I just hope I'm not squishing them when I put the lid back down...If they were squished to death, I guess I'd find the corpses there next time I peeked!

The few stupid ones who have started crawling down the wrong side of the cooler----well, they have a tough time of it, as I have to try to reach way down with a spoon---and it take a lot of tries before I finally get 'em---only to have them jump off the spoon right back into the backspace that I can barely get to.

These worms are GUTSY. Stupid, too...but at least they seem to be having a good life.
Miz B

Yes, I believe my worms ARE having a good life. Unlike me, I suppose, or I wouldn't be sitting here still up at 7 a.m. on a Saturday, typing to no one about my 2,000 worms' love life. I'd be HAVING one instead.

Tuesday, May 25th, 2004

Someone wrote:

From the MusicThoughts list:

>> my old FireFly - and I found a way
>> to fit my whole drum kit in it with me.

I replied:

Speaking of tight fits, my worst gig ride ever was our Pinto---we were just a duo, but included two LARGE speakers, the sound system, mike stands, guitars, and the gear cord box.
We had a problem and that was that there was not single place for me to get in or sit after loadup.

So: after loading one of the speakers, I got in, Chuck slid the speaker over on top of me and over my head. I had to curl into fetal position to make room for it.

Then he had to load everything else alone, while I curled dying of heat or cold. Pintos weren't known for comfort, even when the doors WERE closed, as of course these were not.

Our drives ranged from twenty minutes to four hours of serene and loving young married couple sheer happiness. Yeah.

Then after the gig---coming home. Same story.
One night I was introduced to a neat drink (I was 19) called a Long Island Iced Tea. I liked it and had several. It hardly seemed to have any booze in it at all! 8 )

The inevitable occurred on the ride home. I told him to pull over -- I was going to be sick. But wait. When he pulled over and opened the door, we realized my head could never reach out because a speaker was on top of me.
And you can imagine the rest.

....time it was, it was a time we had, oh what a time it was.... A time of innocence. A time of confi-den-ces.

Who'da thought I'd end up -- well -- here?
But it was all good, looking back. Age is interesting that way.

How terribly strange to be seventy---er, fifty. What's twenty years to Simon & Garfunkel?

Miz B

Monday, May 17th, 2004

Well, folks, I'm just in some kind of whirling dervish of listening and writing and listening and writing----(a book that's been in the works five years and still counting...if I live to 117 it has a prayer of being finished...) so my mind flies to the songs of the time...they are the ropes that I pull to keep the story flowing...

Can any other oldies out there recall the Gershwin tune "I Got Rhythm" done by a pop band during the late sixties? I LOVED it....but cannot find it. Anybody? I think it started out like a telegraph sound--kinda "deet deet deet deet x2"--vocals. Lotta harmony.

Man alive. I still use Limewire, but spend more $ than I have in iTunes. I'm actually thrilled when they don't have a song, so I can go search for it at a lower price (Oh no, here comes the RIAA after me...and all my immense wealth.) ... You'd be astounded by the quantity of covers iTunes already have for that tune...

Well, of course, it IS Gershwin....
Some of you may call it stealing, but I've bought albums because of it...So I'm okay with that. Our mp3's are up all over lawd knows where, free, so— ? The old argument...

No need to flame me---been there, done that. Won't answer.

Still looking for great promo ideas for the singles at the Digital Downloads places....

Hey----anybody know if http://www.mp3downloadcity.com/orderform.htm is a lasting thing, or....?

No idea if my Crazed Cowboys arethere...haven't had time to follow the Digital Downloads posts...actually, haven't had time to even french any fries, so who the hell am I tryin to kid????
I haven't done the easy process Derek Sivers gave us to get permission for covers...so two of our albums aren't up yet....anybody finding it profitable? I know I should just set aside a day and do it. Just so little time.

I actually like a lot of my band's tunes. I think we really don't suck too badly. Despite their nasty and degrading habits and characters. We don't have to go there, though. Siblings. Crap. Down with nepotism, by GAWWD!

The internet has certainly changed lives quickly.
Long Live Ben & Jerries...and their little agenda. With all they're doing, I'll never buy another brand of ice cream again. They've won me over for life. If ya don't know what I mean, it's just busybody stuff...not to worry. I hope the true majority is wide awake and listening, and that they move on it.

Love to those who like me back---and a friendly handshake to newcomers, those who hate me, and those who don't give a damn in hell....Shoot—I'd blow kisses to one and all but I'd look like an absolute idjit. I can't really “do” ASCII anyway. Not since menopause.

I'm the resident longboy-writing never-stop-when-I-should-quit-typing overtalker...kinda like my brother's albums. 25 songs. Oh, big fat lardy, for craps' sake! He should be shot, drawn and quartered, all of which he should survive.

Ah well, he's happy now in the niche the band has settled into, and that's the main thing about making music, perhaps.

Thanks to those who've written to me to see if I died yet.

I didn't.

Miz B

Sunday, May 9th, 2004

Somebody call in the specialists. My worm love has continued to -- uh -- become more frenzied. Those little devils are either gorging on garbage or making whoopy together every time I life the lid.
So I should stop lifting the lid, and live and let live.

But o no, that would be too easy for Miz B. I am fascinated, I am disgusted, I am enthralled. One night I had a bit too much to drink with friends, and lied and told them that I now have several personal relationships with the more outgoing of the worms.

They didn't believe it for a second, until I took them to the plant room, opened the lid, and pointed out my particular friends. Harry and Winona were going at it hot and heavy, just as I'd predicted and there was Keith, lounging on a rotten banana.

I think maybe next time friends are over we should just play cards. I don't want my worms getting too fond of anyone but me.

I am not sure, but I may touch one of them before Christmas. But that's not a promise.

Miz B

Sunday, May 2nd, 2004

Did ya ever have a time of music or a person of music or an era of music or a — I can't explain it. But I am currently in one of those altered states...
I'm deeply enmeshed in a world populated with Jackson Browne songs, and LOTS of duets with GREAT female singers...how could one man sing
separately with that many talented people?

I'm happy here— but is it healthy? I still am able to type and work here at the 'puter, but—for how long? What if I never emerge?

Someone please! Reassure me that I can have a real life again someday...because I'm not sure I want to. But I need to know. Bonnie
Raitt keeps kicking in too with a lot of singles. I don't understand
what is happening to me. And Rufus Wainright.
o lordy lawdy landsomercy maisy daisy
My name is Paula and I have changed the shape of my ears by continual
headphonitis.
Miz BSaturday, April 24th, 2004
I've neglected my BLOG, my family, my dogs, my business, and my day-to-day agenda. I don't even comb my hair or bathe this past month.
I have fallen in hard and heavy with a new group of friends, and they're not good for me. They're not good for me, because I have let fall into decay everything and everyone I love. All to be with my new friends. They oughta just shoot me now, because I don't know if I can get over this love affair with the outer nether regions of the living world.
I love worms. I can't touch them, because they're yucky, and I can't fish with them, because it would torture them, plus I could not thread them onto the fishhook, because I can't touch them, as I find them--well, still yucky.
But man! It's amazing now that I'm raising them in the laundry/gardening room, right next to my kitchen. It's a blast and I cannot leave it. It's just too damn much fun watching all the ruckus they create as they eat my kitchen scraps. Vegetarian!! Please, that's very important.
I'll just have to catch up with everything else later. Perhaps I can salvage my biz from the ruins, perhaps I can earn back the love and trust of the family if I ever give one of them a call sometime...but for now...
It's me and my little composting scrap-eating red wrigglers.
If you need me, I'm at the potting table, and I'm watching my worms. Don't bother phoning...I won't answer. But sometimes I check my email. I'm going to have to move my computer into the worm-room so that I can remain in some sort of human contact.
Or---maybe not.
Miz B & the Red Wrigglers
Friday, January 30th, 2004
Well, damned if it ain't Super Bowl time again. Sheesh. I hate the Super Bowl!
But, seeing as Slim and I are sociable types, and lord knows we'd not want to miss a big party day that every other American but us will be celebrating....we decided to invite over our practically best friends from next door, and our other practically best friend from someplace about ten minutes away.
I wrote what I thought was a manly, friendly, some cussing, a bit of booze---like that---kind of invitation. I pretended I was Slim, of course, because I wouldn't want to be considered such a fool by these purportedly good friends.
Heck--youze guyz can come over too if you RSVP me soon enough. Here's the invitation, and mighty fine writing, I must say...but I didn't write it. I. Did. Not. Write. It. With. That. Woman. Yeah, OK, I wrote it. But the part from Bob is really, truly from Bob. All the rest is just a loada crap.
-----
Subject: That Game
My Man has asked me to impart this question unto you:
Hey. Want to come have a fake party at our house and pretend it's a huge big screen like a movie and watch that football game on Sunday and we could eat food and things like that? Drinking will not occur for the recovering alcoholics, but probably will still occur for the current alcoholic, but she'll probably be the only one, unless Cheryl has one small glass of Merlot.
Or that other friend, whatshername, might come and slop down a few rounds of chablis.
Miz B and I are both attending the theatrical presentation even though neither of us gives a rat's ass about football, and our dogs will also be attending the gala, although they don't give a rat's ass about the game either; however, they WOULD find a rat's ass of great interest, we suspect, since they certainly seem fond of one another's a-hole.
But we like you, and we know youze guyz like football, so it could be fun.
Unless of course you're flying to the game to play your tooters in front of a nationwide audience? You know. Your tuba and that other horn Cheryl plays.
Probably you won't come because we're boring. But damn, kids! Free food! And corn-dogs. There will be no other corn-dogs in the entire nation, but you could be with corn-dogs on this most blessed day. (We throw corn kernels to the dawgies during TV time...Slim's a farmer...grows corn...it's a personal problem. We're in a program.)
Let us know. Time is negotiable, as we don't have a rat's ass in hell idea of when it occurs. But food would definitely be included. OUR TREAT.
It's about time that bitch o' mine did some fine home-cookin fer us men and snacks too that are from Walgreens as opposed to her trying to bake little potato slivers and such, and we could sit around and slap them wimmin.
Miz B might even have one celebratory beer, even tho she don't like it that much no more. But we don't like them dawgs neither, but we're stuck with 'em, and that's about all there is to it.
At 2 a.m. Houston SPCA Law Enforcement comes on, and that is Miz B's new favorite show about abused animals that get taken away from their owners, and she's been a-hintin that we move down Houston-way, just to get rid o' these damn dogies.
Bob sez: I'm sure I'll find this "football game" quite boring because there's only one sporting event worth watching in this household: NASCAR.
Unlike baseball, football, basketball, hockey, etc., you don't have to wait until the end of the season to watch the most exciting game. NASCAR kicks off with the Daytona 500 (the Great American Race) and the action just intensifies after that.
----
Now that Bob has dictated the above sentences, the ugly truth is revealed. I, that friend, whatshername, typed the first batch of crap out.
Miz B aka Paula has been completely blameless in this entire correspondence, and she regrets even allowing me in her home.
So, are you coming to their party?
: )
That Friend Woman You See Pretty Often, and I'm Always Late to Dinner, In a Very Rude Way
----
Well, I told you it wasn't gonna be a pretty picture. Yep. I wrote it. And none of us knows why. Frankly, I don't even care. But I will have to get to the grocery store if they say yes. Cross your fingers and hope for a big fat resounding "NO!"
But don't count on it. I don't.
Life just isn't like that, is it?
Miz B
Monday, January 19th, 2004
Geeeezeus! Am I an idiot or what? In the preceding entry I made a big fool of myself by station that we would have to change our Band Name due to iTunes hating my guts and being out to get me.
Well, I didn't really say that at all, but for some reason I typed it. Who knows? It's just one of those things I do. Exaggerate.
Anyway--it was all a terrible, bleak, dark, and non-sinister piece of stupidity on my part.
All I needed to do was (I feel so ashamed...) stretch the window out on what I was seeing, and then the whole name was right there.
I maligined iTunes. I degraded iTunes. I misrepresented iTunes.
I really, really need a keeper of some kind.
Drop me an email if you can help.
An abashed, chagrined, humiliated Miz B
Tuesday, December 30th, 2003
From: Crazy Miz B of the Crazed Cowboys
Date: Tue Dec 30, 2003 10:54:18 AM US/Central
To: musicthoughts@yahoogroups.com
Subject: Itunes
Hey, youze guyz. I GOT US IN ITUNES!
Sadly, despite all my**** HUGE efforts---I didn't succeed in getting an individual to change the name of the band to Crazed Cowboys, instead of George Lee, Jr. & the Crazed Cowboys, which we used to be named, until we killed George.
( ip sum dim: See http://cdbaby.com/crazed3 )
So we're listed as George Lee, Jr. and the Cr
Guess that's just the way it go
See ya la
Pau
http://cr
***Lie, lie, lie. It was CDBaby.

Wednesday, December 17th, 2003
Now I've done it. I've really, really done it this time.
I have a newsletter that several thousand people get. That's nice. I only send it out once or twice or maybe 8 times a year, for reasons having to do with a lack of drive, no sense of time, no work ethic, poor timing, bad dogs, bad days, good days, holidays (don't forget the birthday of Christopher Columbus--the man who didn't discover the New World), drug paraphernalia, ER on Thursdays, West Wing on Wednesdays, Christmas, hospitalization, the telephone, DVD's, meals, sleep, a sprained ankle, carpal tunnel from sending newsletters...
Anyway, as you can see---lots of things hang me up on the delivery.
But last night--ahhhh, last night was going so well! I wrote the newsletter and used my nifty new email list program to send it on out to all my faithful and anxious readers, who were no doubt sitting at the computer staring at their monitors just in case it was one of those one or two or eight days that I sent the damn thing...
The first sign of trouble came, naturally, from my mother. Mothers and daughters. It's wonderful how they always admire each other so. I'm sure many of you women out there have experienced the same joy I have, daily, since birth. Ya gotta love love.
Mom said: You're really in trouble now, you know. I told you so. Your newsletter has about 200 names on it, visible right there in front of everybody, instead of in blind carbon copy (bcc). I knew you would do that someday.
Shock shock, horror horror! Much to my chagrin, I opened up my copy of the email Mom had thoughtfully forwarded to me. It was TRUE! I, Miz B, had just shown 200 of my loyal supporters that I was perfectly willing to serve them up on a silver platter to any spammer who happened to be on my list. Mom was right. (I hate when that happens.) I done a bad thing.
So on the next send-out, I carefully made sure everything was RIGHT...and all was well with my little tiny cosmic karma world. I continued sending until all the thousands of people had been sent my marvelous and enjoyable, pleasant little comic relief piece.
I knew they'd be joyous at finally receiving word from me this lovely December morning! "Yeeehaaa Jumpin Jehosophats!" they would shout, running outside barefoot in the snow and dirty city slush (or country---lots of manure there) to share the news with their fascinated neighbors and local drunks, drifting grifters, various Mob associates and probably the Amish and even the Inuits in Alaska. Possibly.
Then I received an email from a good musician-friend of mine. Lynda Johnson wrote:
" SUBJECT: Thoughts About Holiday Depression
" I found out yesterday that our local hospital's mental ward is
completely full, lots of really depressed people. Lots of children.
I'm getting a little depressed myself. What's up?"
Now that's sad. That is just plain dirty rotten scandalous life doin' its thanggg...yet I was oddly cheered.
I then experienced what I believe is called a "vision," an "epiphany," if you will. This email from Lynda meant a great deal to me, and showed me the light---so I responded to the Musicthoughts list, wanting to share my newfound knowledge in the hope that it would help others less fortunate, or even the Depressed People, especially the little children who were apparently flocking (unbeknownst to me) to the hospitals in droves:
I wrote:
" I'm delighted to report that I appear to be, for the first time in my long and varied life, completely normal.
" I'm bummin', I'm seriously depressed, I'm sick as a dog (no offense to my girls Lucy and Rascal) with the flu, and it wouldn't surprise me in the least if the PO-leese or the Am-bu-lance Guys came to take me away today...
" Don't know if it would be the funny farm, the looney bin, the real part of the hospital where, if you go to get well from something, you leave with something much worse than you went in with---or maybe just the Dead Man Walking part of the federal prison where they're apparently harboring Susan Sarandon. (I used a little Limewire.) (That's like
Kazaa for the Mac People in the Universe.)
" Frankly, if lightning struck me right now, I'd be grateful. We have so many family issues going on that I wouldn't be surprised if my heretofore Tom/George brother of Crazed Cowboys fame, who's been severely heterosexual for the full span of his life, told me at Christmas that he's dumping the wife and kids and changing gender. WITHOUT anaesthesia.
" It wouldn't shock me if we (my band) got a Big Break and got to appear on Letterman, or even Leno if Letterman didn't want us (I'd prefer David myself. I'm openly frank about the pure lust and wonderful thoughts I have
for him every weeknight for 20 years at 10:35) and our plane was delayed by weather and they had Bob Dylan on to replace us.
" (I feel a little something for Conan O'Brien and also for Craig Kilborne along those same lines, but nothing like I feel for Dave. Jay can suck weeds as far as I'm concerned...although I don't mind a l'il taste of the weed meself, for
that matter, so I probably should have chosen a better phrase.)
" I fully expect to hear from my bank today that I'm severely overdrawn, and not only do I owe them lots in late fees, but also that they're closing my account and have relayed through the internet to the whole banking world and in fact, all the PEOPLE in the world, that even my CASH isn't good any more. "What cash?" I'll ask them.
" My dog Rascal is sleeping cozily on my pitifully cold feet right now, but no doubt any time now she'll have a latent rabies attack and viciously bite me until my leg is nothing but a shattered piece of hamburger...with ptomaine to boot. And the gangrene that always occurs in these situations. Without a good bottle of whiskey anywhere nearby for the amputation that must be done, despite blizzard conditions in the mountains.
" Slim the Roadie and Light Tech and I are getting along swimmingly...But he just left for the farm, and without doubt by the time he gets home tonight to take me to dinner at a really nice restaurant, he'll have met another, better woman, bedded her, wed her, and revealed to her that he has $5,000,000 for her dowry, which he's kept secret from me for nine years now.
" You see? I'm normal. This is my life.
" Every minute, fraught with trouble.
" Hey! Merry Christmas! I'm normal!
" The Maybe-not-so-Crazy Miz B"
After chilling a bit with an ER re-run, I got back to work. We online workers are never done...busy, busy, busy! My good work ethic---I never lose it. Just ask my mom. (<---irony.)
Eventually I got to my email duties. My inbox was filled, I mean FILLED to the brim! Excellent news! People had read my silly newsletter, and really, really liked it, to engender this much response!
I have never been so happy as I was at that ominous moment.
Bunches of the emails were from my thousands of subscribers. Apparently many of them got SEVERAL newsletters. Some got more than several. Many of them told me to go to hell. I tried, but failed.
: )
Well, just goes to show ya. Mom was right. I am troubled and have issues.
The added bonus, of course, was that almost a thousand emails in the bcc area WENT OUT AS FRICKING CONTENT! FREE FOR SPAMMERS...MIZ B'S GIVING 'EM AWAY!!!!
I anticipate about 96% unsubscribes. Not a bad night's work after four blissful years of collecting happy subscribers.
Okay. There's more--but I'm quitting now. If you don't hear from me again---lightning DID strike and I'm dead in my bed with the stereo still playing away happily for about 24 more hours of indie music (artists who are broke and NOT famous...like MY band...) that won't get on my radio show, because I SEE DEAD PEOPLE.
Love that movie. Hailey Joel Osmont. What a kid. Wonder if he'd like to subscribe to my newsletter?
Okeydokey, I'm over it and am going to move on with my life now.
AW, crap...perfect timing! Now playing on the shuffled damn CD player is a NON-indie Denis Leary singing "I'm an Asshole." What a way to die. (but it is kind of funny.) See, because now I AM an asshole! Yay!
I feel better already! Oh no--wait--it's the DEPRESSING holiday season...So then I'm NOT normal...here we go again.

Monday, December 15th, 2003
I love my Mac G4, and it's truly the best computer I ever hoped to have.
But you know what? I think computers have gremlins, or trolls, or maybe little tiny red and orange devils...because every once in a while--things just happen. Out of nowhere.
Musicthoughts, which is a list for folks who a) have music up at the best independent music store on the Internet, http://CDBaby.com/from/mizb or b) serious musicians who think thoughts about music, or c) ridiculous musicians who never have a single solitary thought of any kind, including musical ones, or d) any-ole-body that wants to sign up for reasons as far-fetched as to create a ruckus or scam email addresses or just for status and image (?) or e) anyone but Saddam Hussein, as of today (we just don't want him in the group; it's a personal thing...)
Well, anyway, I was sitting there reading my Musicthoughts mail, feeling really musical and very thoughtful...and up come six emails in a row from me, saying nothing but copying the last six I'd just read, that weren't from me. Now that's not right! Who did that?
Clearly somehow I did that. But you know what? I DID NOT DO THAT.
WHO DID THAT?
Things like that. When they happen---I lean back in my chair and stare at the ceiling for awhile, just thinking to myself, "Damn. That was WEIRD."
Then I go get some coffee, or more likely a Pepsi, or even more likely, a vodka-diet-7, and play with my dogs Lucy and Rascal.
Because you know what...? There ain't a damn thing I can do about it, and clearly I need to be OFF that computer for a while before I start having even stranger things coming out of it, like the Alien thing that burst out trying to get at Sigourney Weaver. I just don't want to die like that.
It's just how it goes. I had a point. It's been lost in the shuffle.
But there are little evil things that get in computers sometimes. And it shore ain't ME...
And that's all I have to say about that. (Now THAT was a good movie.)
Goodbye. I am glad I got this off my chest. Now I'm going to go be a normal person again.
Miz B
Wednesday, December 10th, 2003
I'm on a list that is all about making awesome websites...needless to say, I am not one of the contributing members to that wisdom. But I do send ridiculous replies, just to keep my name in the pot...I'm kind of like one of their pets or a mascot. Or maybe court jester.
One of the really talented genius designers calls me the Poster Child from the group. I'm oddly pleased by that.
At any rate, I'd been missing the posts for about a week, and caught one from Sharon ( www.geocities.com/gpwilsonracing/index ) that said she missed my "quick wit." Now, I don't feel particularly witful, or even witty, but naturally it was only polite to respond to her nice note...so I wrote of an extraordinary incident I underwent recently. Here's what happened:
I am saddened to tell you: I have lost my quick wit. I don't know what happened.
I was sitting at my computer about a week ago, and I felt something come over me...some sort of mist...it had an aroma of hot buttered rum and suntan lotion--quite pleasant, yet baffling.
I immediately began to seek the source, and so I wandered around my home, which, being the great size it is, took almost a minute, so naturally that tired me out. I jumped onto my bed and turned in ten or fifteen circles while scratching and burrowing into the sheets and blankets. Finally when it was perfect, I rolled myself into a ball and slept, snoring quietly.
When I awoke--I was witless. I had difficulty finding the right words at certain times, I had an affinity with my dogs that I'd never had before...almost as if we were communicating on an animal level, and worst of all, at dinner I found my utensils to be useless, and felt that just eating off my plate pleased me more. From time to time, Bob tossed little tidbits toward me, and I leapt in the air to catch them.
I was 8 for 10, beating Rascal The Min-Pin by one point.
After dinner, I went out back to the dog pen, rolling around in the gravel with my dogs and eating grass---just because I felt I needed to.After Bob gave me a good cold shampoo outside with the hose (luckily it was 33 degrees, so it didn't freeze) he went back inside and I playfully skittered after him, only shaking the water off my fur AFTER we got inside the house.
He gave me a serious questioning about my unusual behavior. I witlessly replied, "I dunno," and then crouched and begged for another snack.
At last it was bedtime, and I curled up in a cozy ball at Bob's feet.
When I woke up in the morning, everything was different. I no longer felt the dog-like compulsions, yet at the same time, I searched for some wit and didn't find any.
I called the wit-doctor, he told me what to do. He said,
Ooo eee, oooh ah ah, ting tang walla walla bing bang.
It didn't do the trick. I am still witless, and possibly always will be.
I am told I was once quite funny, but that doesn't really mean much to me, as I don't get it. Then I tell them to quit messing wit me, and then they leave me alone.
I'll keep you posted on wit way things go.
Alrighty then,
Paula "no-more-wit" but then again "no more wit-out," so who knows anymore?
Thursday, December 4th, 2003
Somehow early this morning, long before I went to bed--it occurred to me that nobody really knows what the Porch is supposed to be about but me...and since not much is up yet--it might not occur to anybody to return...but I hope folks do.
So I decided to describe what I envision...
What is Miz B's Porch?
Good question!
Actually the Porch has been around for years...I just never "bought it" an official place of its own on the web.
But now I have, and you're "at it!"
A long time ago, I managed and cleaned up after and kicked in the butt when they needed it--a group of wild cowboy type guys, who lived in the city! But that became a lot of work after awhile, and I needed help, and wanted to get on with my own work as well...so now I'm a part-time Crazed Cowboy and a part-time writer of two books I'm in the midst of, and a part-time no-wage laborer here at the Porch--and I love it!
I'm going to start a blog on my writing, so I'm hoping to meet friends who will give me some feedback on that...Oh, wait-----this IS the blog...
Day by day, I'm adding things, one page at a time--stuff that I've been saying for years I wanted to get online ...but didn't have time..
For example, I've totally enjoyed all the web radio shows I've made, that are scattered all over the internet---so I'm in the process of turning them into streaming shows, and they should be up here shortly...we've gotten a lot of great feedback on these.
And then there's my DVD/movie hobby...you'll be finding something really exciting on that topic--soon. So continue to check in or sign up for the newsletter...I am so excited about it!
More: I'm fortunate to live next door to a couple who are two of the greatest people on the planet--and in no time we became the best of friends...So much in common!
They both play part-time in the symphony in St Louis, and also run an organic herbal shop called Chery'ls Herbs...so I will have all kinds of things to tell you about from that friendship, business and pleasure alike. In fact, my direct sales (that aren't at http://cdbaby.com/from/mizb or one of the smaller stores on the Internet, like Amazon...NOT!) all go through their shop--Cheryl's Herbs.
I read like a maniac, so there may well be an interactive "something" for that too.
And of course--I still have my beloved Crazed Cowboys, and all the great music and musicians I've met in the music world section of the internet...it's massive!
And the dogs. Who could forget about the dogs????
So: You ask what is Miz B's Porch? All I can say is--it's a potpourri of all the things I love about life...and I truly hope you will enjoy some of them too.
Monday, December 1st, 2003
I am so thrilled! Just as I knew I would, you can see that I have been keeping my blog so very up to date!
I feel like dancing and singing, but that would interrupt this close, in-my-face computer time that I am so enjoying...
Time for some real news:
(pause)
At 2.38 this morning it was discovered that other than the usual, there was no news to be had at the Porch Blog. It is a sad state of affairs, and one that the authorities are looking into. More on this in our next blog entry.
Monday, December 1st, 2003
Well, it looks like blogs are pretty much becoming a must. And heaven knows I ALWAYS do anything that's a must, and really cool.
Ahhh, great. I've lied already in my first blog, second sentence. I have a small problem with doing ANYthing that's "a must," and "really cool."
The good news is that I now feel perfectly justified in spending several hours "working" (ha!) while I explore blogs across the whole world wide web, willingly and with wisdom, wit, wise words and whatever in mind. Damn. I ran out of "w" vocabulary.
Off I go, Wednesday, November 12, 2003 at 5:43 a.m. What a memorable blog this has already become. I predict that the masses will come immediately...because I've built it.
And there'll be a long, long line of cars like there were in "Field of Dreams" and then again in "Pay It Forward." I cried at both, and continue to do so, since I adore watching movies I've already seen, if I love them. And since I have no taste, no discrimination concerning films, or discretion either, that means almost ANY movie.
Except, of course--Gigli. Whoa. The sheer boredom almost kilt me, it did...
Hmm. I wonder if I can use italics or anything else fancy here. I'll find out later. Now I must be off to the blogs. See you next year.

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