I! CUT! MY! OWN! HAIR!!

I! CUT! MY! OWN! HAIR!

It was madness, I know. But it made me even more mad to look in the mirror  at the sticking-out-in-every-direction MESS which could not be combed, styled or even flattened down. 

I had a razor comb (not scissors, God forbid) so began carefully, gingerly thinning out the flapping wings at the back. Gradually I grew more bold as the bits of hair accumulated in the sink. Hey, why not – go for broke! It can’t look any worse, can it?

 When I thought I had taken off enough, I ran downstairs, all excited, and said to Bill, “Notice anything different about me”? He looked at my face, then at my blouse, and said, “Yeah?” and I said “WHAT DO YOU MEAN you don’t  see anything different!” and he made a “shrug” expression with his mouth and said, “You look nice.” 

Then I made him take my picture, which he never does because I hate it. This mad impulse came after I read a four-page manifesto from my stylist (likely a generic one from Health Canada or somewhere) which basically described the salon as a police state. The tone of it was: things will never be the same, and you will never enjoy a trip to the stylist again. So I thought: how long is this going to be, and how could it look any worse than it does now? 

I don’t think it does – I think it looks better – my head is lighter – and though I’m definitely greyer, I can more or less look at myself without alarm and have SOME hope I can keep it in shape until, gowned, masked, in full hazmat suits, my stylist and I will meet again, don’t know where, don’t know when.

JELL-O: the miracle dessert

 

 

A very patient dog

via GIPHY

"Creme de la creme": Victorian chocolate advertisements

Elizabeth Holmes Cures COVID-19!

Elizabeth Holmes is at it again! With one prick of a finger (or finger of a prick,), she will CURE the coronavirus and win the Ignobel Prize for ignorance.

We are Siamese (if you please)

Just ordered this doll from China!

Somehow, I think that's a good sign.

Chopin's a bust

The Star-spangled Banner by Bob Dylan

It was a dark day in Dallas, November '63
A day that will live on in infamy
Good day to be livin' and a good day to die
President Kennedy was a-ridin' high
He said, "Wait a minute, boys, you know who I am?"
Being led to the slaughter like a sacrificial lamb
Then they blew off his head while he was still in the car
"Of course we do, we know who you are" 

Shot down like a dog in broad daylight
Was a matter of timing and the timing was right 

You got unpaid debts, we've come to collect 

We're gonna kill you with hatred, without any respect 

The day they blew out the brains of the king
We'll mock you and shock you and we'll put it in your face 

We've already got someone here to take your place
Perfectly executed, skillfully done Thousands were watching, no one saw a thing 

It happened so quickly, so quick, by surprise
Greatest magic trick ever under the sun Right there in front of everyone's eyes 

Wolfman, oh Wolfman, oh Wolfman, howl 

Rub-a-dub-dub, it's a murder most foul

 

Hush, little children, you'll understand 

The Beatles are comin', they're gonna hold your hand 

Slide down the banister, go get your coat 

Ferry 'cross the Mersey and go for the throat 

There's three bums comin' all dressed in rags 

Pick up the pieces and lower the flags 

I'm goin' to Woodstock, it's the Aquarian Age 

Then I'll go over to Altamont and sit near the stage 

Put your head out the window, let the good times roll 

There's a party going on behind the Grassy Knoll 

Stack up the bricks, pour the cement 

Don't say Dallas don't love you, Mr. President 

Put your foot in the tank and then step on the gas 

Try to make it to the triple underpass

Blackface singer, whiteface clown 

Better not show your faces after the sun goes down 

Up in the red light district, they've got cop on the beat 

Living in a nightmare on Elm Street 

When you're down on Deep Ellum, put your money in your shoe 

Don't ask what your country can do for you 

Cash on the barrelhead, money to burn 

Dealey Plaza, make a left-hand turn 

I'm going down to the crossroads, gonna flag a ride 

The place where faith, hope, and charity died 

Shoot him while he runs, boy, shoot him while you can 

See if you can shoot the invisible man 

Goodbye, Charlie, goodbye, Uncle Sam 

Frankly, Miss Scarlett, I don't give a damn 

What is the truth, and where did it go? 

Ask Oswald and Ruby, they oughta know 

"Shut your mouth," said a wise old owl 

Business is business, and it's a murder most foul

Tommy, can you hear me? I'm the Acid Queen 

I'm riding in a long, black Lincoln limousine 

Ridin' in the back seat next to my wife 

Headed straight on in to the afterlife 

I'm leaning to the left, I got my head in her lap 

Hold on, I've been led into some kind of a trap 

Where we ask no quarter, and no quarter do we give 

We're right down the street, from the street where you live 

They mutilated his body and they took out his brain 

What more could they do? They piled on the pain 

But his soul was not there where it was supposed to be at 

For the last fifty years they've been searchin' for that 

Freedom, oh freedom, freedom over me 

I hate to tell you, mister, but only dead men are free 

Send me some lovin', then tell me no lie 

Throw the gun in the gutter and walk on by

 

Wake up, little Susie, let's go for a drive 

Cross the Trinity River, let's keep hope alive 

Turn the radio on, don't touch the dials 

Parkland Hospital, only six more miles 

You got me dizzy, Miss Lizzy, you filled me with lead 

That magic bullet of yours has gone to my head 

I'm just a patsy like Patsy Cline 

Never shot anyone from in front or behind 

I've blood in my eye, got blood in my ear 

I'm never gonna make it to the new frontier 

Zapruder's film I seen night before 

Seen it thirty-three times, maybe more 

It's vile and deceitful, it's cruel and it's mean 

Ugliest thing that you ever have seen 

They killed him once and they killed him twice 

Killed him like a human sacrifice 

The day that they killed him, someone said to me, 

"Son The age of the Antichrist has just only begun" 

Air Force One comin' in through the gate 

Johnson sworn in at 2:38 

Let me know when you decide to throw in the towel 

It is what it is, and it's murder most foul

What's new, pussycat? What'd I say? 

I said the soul of a nation been torn away 

And it's beginning to go into a slow decay 

And that it's thirty-six hours past Judgment Day 

Wolfman Jack, he's speaking in tongues 

He's going on and on at the top of his lungs 

Play me a song, Mr. Wolfman Jack 

Play it for me in my long Cadillac 

Play me that "Only the Good Die Young" 

Take me to the place Tom Dooley was hung 

Play "St. James Infirmary" and the Court of King James 

If you want to remember, you better write down the names 

Play Etta James, too, play "I'd Rather Go Blind"

 Play it for the man with the telepathic mind 

Play John Lee Hooker, play "Scratch My Back" 

Play it for that stip club owner named Jack 

Guitar Slim going down slow 

Play it for me and for Marilyn Monroe

 

Play "Please Don't Let Me Be Misunderstood" 

Play it for the First Lady, she ain't feeling any good 

Play Don Henley, play Glenn Frey 

Take it to the limit and let it go by 

Play it for Carl Wilson, too 

Looking far, far away down Gower Avenue 

Play "Tragedy", play "Twilight Time" 

Take me back to Tulsa to the scene of the crime 

Play another one and "Another One Bites the Dust" 

Play "The Old Rugged Cross" and "In God We Trust" 

Ride the pink horse down that long, lonesome road 

Stand there and wait for his head to explode 

Play "Mystery Train" for Mr. Mystery 

The man who fell down dead like a rootless tree 

Play it for the reverend, play it for the pastor 

Play it for the dog that got no master 

Play Oscar Peterson, play Stan Getz 

Play "Blue Sky," play Dickey Betts

Play Art Pepper, Thelonious Monk 

Charlie Parker and all that junk 

All that junk and "All That jazz" 

Play something for the Birdman of Alcatraz 

Play Buster Keaton, play Harold Lloyd 

Play Bugsy Siegel, play Pretty Boy Floyd 

Play the numbers, play the odds 

Play "Cry Me a River" for the Lord of the gods 

Play Number nine, play Number six 

Play it for Lindsey and Stevie Nicks 

Play Nat King Cole, play "Nature Boy" 

Play "Down in the Boondocks" for Terry Malloy 

Play "It Happened One Night" and "One Night of Sin" 

There's twelve million souls that are listening in 

Play "Merchant of Venice", play "Merchants of Death" 

Play "Stella by Starlight" for Lady Macbeth 

Don't worry, Mr. President, help's on the way 

Your brothers are comin', there'll be hell to pay 

Brothers? What brothers? What's this about hell?
Tell them, "We're waiting, keep coming," we'll get them as well

Love Field is where his plane touched down

 But it never did get back up off the ground 

Was a hard act to follow, second to none 

They killed him on the altar of the rising sun 

Play "Misty" for me and "That Old Devil Moon" 

Play "Anything Goes" and "Memphis in June" 

Play "Lonely at the Top" and "Lonely Are the Brave" 

Play it for Houdini spinning around in his grave 

Play Jelly Roll Morton, play "Lucille" 

Play "Deep in a Dream", and play "Driving Wheel" 

Play "Moonlight Sonata" in F-sharp 

And "A Key to the Highway" for the king on the harp

 Play "Marching Through Georgia" and "Dumbarton's Drums" 

Play "Darkness" and death will come when it comes 

Play "Love Me or Leave Me" by the great Bud Powell 

Play "The Blood-Stained Banner", play "Murder Most Foul"

Cannabis and Brain Salt: advertisements by the yard