Tag Archives: Thug Luckless: Welcome to P-Town by Marilyn Jaye Lewis

Happy End of Summer, Gang!!

As much as I absolutely cannot believe it — it is time to drive back into town and get more groceries. The week just flew. Again.

I hate shopping on holidays, mostly because I think people shouldn’t have to work on holidays and if we go in and patronize their places of business, they’ll just keep finding reasons to make people work on holidays.

Especially Labor Day! Which, in and of itself means that people who work are supposed to have the day off! Labor Day is supposed to be about picnics, going to the lake, having cookouts in your own backyard.

I won’t get totally on my soapbox about it…  However — when I was a wee bonny lass growing up in Cleveland (a notoriously blue-collar, union town) no one worked on Labor Day. No one worked on any holidays unless it was emergency service-related. No one worked on Sundays — except a handful of gas stations (Sundays were considered the Sabbath ). A few places, like bakeries, would open for a few hours in the morning only.  Usually only Chinese restaurants were open on Sundays and a few Jewish delicatessens, because for them Saturday was the Sabbath, not Sunday.  But most people saw a clear difference back then between working and having a life, a family, a home.

It’s not like that anymore. It took a pandemic to get businesses to close in America… of course, I realize that’s going from one extreme to another. But life actually was a lot nicer when most people still believed in God, and did not have so much invested in commerce.

Anyway! That said!! I’ll probably be working today!! Either editing Volume 4 of The Muse Revisited, or writing a new erotic short story. Or maybe even working some more on Thug Luckless? Who can say! I’ll see how I feel after I get back from town with the groceries.

I did notice that while writing the new short story over the past couple weeks, I was re-thinking my approach to Thug Luckless. So maybe I’ll take a look at that today. We’ll see. I’m kind of feeling like writing another new short story, though. Not plunging back into the novel.

I’m sort of sad that summer is now officially over. I just can’t believe it flew by so quickly. Just at warp speed. Even though the weather stays nice for a few more weeks, and the flowers are still blooming, it’s a mindset: Labor Day is here and so summer is over.

I try to remind myself that summer will come again next year, and that all sorts of amazing things will likely be happening in my life by then. Things I can’t even imagine now — with the play, in particular. Both plays, actually. The play being produced in Toronto will pick up steam again in 2021. It’s already on the books there. So that will be really exciting. But meanwhile, the time I love best around here in Crazeysburg has come and gone. Again.

And, of course, now I can’t help but think about “mortality” (reaching 60, I mean) — so many people I knew, worked with, loved, have passed on. Have been gone for years now, some of them.  And they were not that much older than I am now when they left. And then I also think of someone like Tom Petty, gone suddenly at age 66. It makes me think, for real — what would I like to get done in the next 6 years? Right? Although most of my blood relations lived to be quite old — mid-90s and into their 100s, even in eras where that kind of age was really uncommon.  So I don’t have any real reason to think I’m leaving anytime soon, it’s just something I think about now. Especially as the summer wanes and fall begins its approach (the dogwood tree in my backyard is starting to get its fall colors already).

I won’t really mind going, actually, as long as all the cats have already passed on. But there is so much writing here on my desk that I would like to complete, if I had my “druthers,” as they say!

Okay. I guess I will get going here. I haven’t done yoga yet.  Then I will make that drive into town. Have a really wonderful holiday if you live Stateside, and have a wonderful Monday, wherever you are in the world!

I leave you with something that actually speaks of the beginning of summer, and of how happy they’ll be when September finally comes… still, it’s such a wonderful song, sort of wistful, all these decades later — the original “Sealed With A Kiss,” by Brian Hyland (1962).  Enjoy it. Fall in love. And thanks for visiting, gang! I love you, guys. See ya.

Sealed With A Kiss

Though we gotta say goodbye for the summer
Darling I promise you this
I’ll send you all my love every day in a letter
Sealed with a kiss

Yes it’s gonna be a cold lonely summer
But I’ll fill the emptiness
I’ll send you all my dreams every day in a letter
Sealed with a kiss

I’ll see you in the sunlight
I’ll hear your voice everywhere
I’ll run to tenderly hold you
But darling you won’t be there

I don’t want to say goodbye for the summer
Knowing the love we’ll miss
Oh let us make a pledge to meet in September
And seal it with a kiss

Yes it’s gonna be a cold lonely summer
But I’ll fill the emptiness
I’ll send you all my love every day in a letter
Sealed with a kiss
Sealed with a kiss
Sealed with a kiss

© 1962 Peter Udell, Gary Geld

Who the Heck Knows Anything, Right??

So much for working on Thug Luckless: Welcome to P-Town yesterday.

For some unknown yet delightful reason, I suddenly began writing a new erotic short story yesterday — I didn’t even know it was lurking in there, even though I do want to write more erotic short stories (see yesterday’s post). I came back from the market, put the groceries away, sat down at my desk and suddenly, the story was there.

It’s maybe almost halfway finished. I’m already at 4000 words. (I know! So odd, right? How stories will just suddenly come. Aside from speaking with Valerie for a bit yesterday, I was working on the short story for 9 hours, and will be working on it all day today, too.)

And what’s even all-out weirder is that it’s a futanari story. Futanari is now pretty much only a hentai porn term for hermaphrodites (generally: extremely sexy females who also have huge cocks) (in hentai animation). But it used to be more of a Japanese folklore term, a long  long time ago.

But anyway, I am not into futanari porn.  I find androgyny sort of appealing, a tiny bit, maybe,  but not enough to think I would ever in a million years write about it erotically. Ever.

And yet… 4000 words later, I’m not even halfway done.

So strange. But I won’t look a gift horse in the mouth.

The story is titled “Half-Moon Bride”. In Japanese folklore, a “half-moon” futanari was someone of one sex who switched sexes on the full moon. So I’m guessing you can kinda see where the bride on this particular wedding night is headed…. (and our poor bride has no idea what she is yet, but as luck would have it, she’s marrying a full-futa and so he/she is going to be able to help her out with that.)

I won’t go into any more of the details. Obviously, it’s hardcore fantasy erotica which is not the kind of erotica I usually write. So everything, on every level of this story, has been a complete surprise to me.

Well, okey-dokey.

The trip into town yesterday was illuminating. With school starting back this week, the grocery store was empty. However, the Home Depot parking lot next door to it was jammed. And some of the more breakfast-type restaurants were busy again (by social distancing standards). But, overall, lots less cars on the streets.

Going back to school seems to still change everything, with or without COVID. It just signals: Fall is coming. (And yet, it’s still August…)

Anyway. Life’s good.

Valerie and I are just about ready to sign off on the cover layout for The Guitar Hero Goes Home. And then I can order my test print and see if I’m happy or not. I still have to format the ePub file, but once I do that, the eBook will be published, too.

So we are almost there.

Well, I’m going to get started here today. I hope you are having a truly terrific Tuesday, wherever you are in the world!! I leave you with a song I have posted here before — one of my favorite songs by Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds, “Do You Love Me (Part 2),” from that truly amazing album Let Love In from 1994 (which seems like yesterday, but my higher math skills assure me it was 26 years ago… wtf???). However, in case you missed it the last time I posted it, here it is again!! So enjoy and thanks for visiting, gang. I love you guys. See ya.

“Do You Love Me? (Part 2)”

Onward! And Onward! And Onward I go
Where no man before could be bothered to go
Till the soles of my shoes are shot full of holes
And it’s all downhill with a bullet
This ramblin’ and rovin’ has taken its course
I’m grazing with the dinosaurs and the dear old horses
And the city streets crack and a great hole forces
Me down with my soapbox, my pulpit
The theatre ceiling is silver star-spangled
And the coins in my pocket go jingle-jangle

There’s a man in the theatre with girlish eyes
Who’s holding my childhood to ransom
On the screen there’s a death, there’s a rustle of cloth
And a sickly voice calling me handsome
There’s a man in the theatre with sly girlish eyes
On the screen there’s an ape, a gorilla
There’s a groan, there’s a cough, there’s a rustle of cloth
And a voice that stinks of death and vanilla
This is a secret, mauled and mangled
And the coins in my pocket go jingle-jangle

The walls of the ceiling are painted in blood
The lights go down, the red curtains come apart
The room is full of smoke and dialogue I know by heart
And the coins in my pocket jingle-jangle
As the great screen crackled and popped
The clock of my boyhood was wound down and stopped
And my handsome little body oddly propped
And my trousers right down to my ankles
Yes, it’s onward! And upward!
And I’m off to find love
Do you love me? If you do, I’m thankful

This city is an ogre squatting by the river
It gives life but it takes it away, my youth
There comes a time when you just cannot deliver
This is a fact. This is a stone cold truth.
Do you love me?
I love you, handsome
But do you love me?
Yes, I love you, you are handsome
Amongst the cogs and the wires, my youth
Vanilla breath and handsome apes with girlish eyes
Dreams that roam between truth and untruth
Memories that become monstrous lies
So onward! And Onward! And Onward I go!
Onward! And Upward! And I’m off to find love
With blue-black braclets on my wrists and ankles
And the coins in my pocket go jingle-jangle

© 1994 Nick Cave

What A Great Day Yesterday Was!!

Oh my gosh, gang, I got such great writing done yesterday.

It was one of those days, where I sat down to the manuscript around 10:30am, and then the next thing I knew, it was 5pm. The day had absolutely flown. And the words just hit the page without any trouble at all.

I was so happy. It was just such a great day.

But then for some reason, I had some trouble sleeping last night. I’m not sure why. I awoke and then started checking stuff on my phone in order to keep my mind off of worrying. And there was an email from Valerie and she sounded really fed up with trying to get the text to look right for the back cover of The Guitar Hero Goes Home.

But as far as I could tell, the images looked just fine. I even got out of bed and checked them on my laptop, and I couldn’t understand what she was talking about. But she did seem really fed up with it.

Anyway, then I laid awake for 2 hours. Trying not to worry about everything under the sun. And then I was suddenly dead asleep for about 5 more hours (!!), and I had a really unpleasant, sort of post-apocalyptic dream. I had never actually had a dream quite like it before. And then my eyes sort of sprang open and I was awake.

But now — well I did all my Inner Being journaling, and my re-calibrating journaling and my meditation and I did the treadmill AND used my amazing new vacuum cleaner again!!! So I am once again in a great space and I think I’m going to have another great day.

Well, I guess this is going to be a short post today, folks. I want to get back to Thug Luckless: Welcome to P-Town. I hope you are enjoying your Sunday, wherever you are in the world.  Sort of scary that there is only one more weekend after this and then it will be September. I am really seriously trying not to dwell on it, how quickly this summer disappeared.

Don’t forget that the fan music videos are still going on today over at Bad Seed TeeVee. You can check them out at that link!

I leave you with my evening-listening music from yesterday. An old song that always makes me think of my biological half-brother, because this album (Centerfield by John Fogerty) was a huge hit the spring that I met my brother (1986 ). The album had already been out for a year, but the songs were still really popular. I was 25 years old when I met my half-brother for the first time, and he was 19. It was incredible and intense and he meant so much to me, from the very moment I met him.

He was/is an unbelievably insane alcoholic, and back then, he had a really violent temper when he got drunk. And he would just get SO drunk, with that hair-trigger temper. It got scary. But back then, my birth mom was living with this wonderful truck driver who was a lot scarier when he wanted to be, so it kept my brother balanced out. For a while.

Anyway. One gorgeous spring morning at dawn during my first trip to visit them, I awoke to find my brother standing next to my bed, teetering and swaying — he was so fucking drunk. And he looked down at me and said, “You are so pretty.” And I thought: oh, shit.

But he had his little portable boombox with him and he suddenly hit the play button and, super loudly, at dawn, everyone in the house sleeping, John Fogerty’s Centerfield album came blasting out. It was already one of my favorite albums , but now all I think of when I listen to it are those memories of that first time I met my half-brother.

All righty. Thanks for visiting, gang. I leave you with “I Saw It On TV” from Centerfield (1985). Enjoy!!! I love you guys. See ya.

“I Saw It On TV”

They sent us home to watch the show coming on the little screen
A man named Ike was in the white house big black limousine
There were many shows that followed from hooter to dootyville
Though I saw them all I can’t recall which cartoon were real
The coonskin caps Yankee bats the hound dog man’s big start
The A bomb fears Annette had ears I lusted in my heart
A young man from Boston said “sail the new frontier”
And we watched the dream dead end in Dallas
They buried innocence that year

[Chorus:]
I know it’s true oh so true cause I saw it on T.V.

We gathered round to hear the sound coming on the little screen
The grief had passed the old men laughed and all the girls screamed
‘Cause four guys from England took all by the hand
It was time to laugh time to sing time to join the band

But all too soon we hit the moon and covered up the sky
They built the bombs and aimed their guns and still I don’t know why
The dominoes tumbled and big business roared
Every night at six they showed the pictures and counted up the score

[Chorus:]
I know it’s true oh so true cause I saw it on T.V.

The Old man rocks among his dreams a prisoner of the porch
The light he said at the end of the tunnel
Was nothing but a burglar’s torch
And them that was caught in the cover are all rich and free
But they chained my mind to an endless tune
When they took my only son from me

[Chorus:]
I know it’s true oh so true cause I saw it on T.V.
I know it’s true oh so true cause I saw it on T.V.

© 1985 John Fogerty

It’s All Getting Better & Better!!

Well, some good news re: the virus — at least around these parts!

The next county over, where I do all my marketing — and, wherein, my beloved Granville Inn is also contained — now has only 211 active cases of the virus. No longer anywhere near “Code Red.” And apparently, Muskingum County is back down to basically no active cases. (And I believe we only had one death connected to it, but I’m not positive if that number is accurate anymore.)

So, that is good news. Finally. (BTW, the good news doesn’t necessarily pertain to the State of Ohio, as a whole. A couple of the larger cities still have high numbers, but the number of new cases all over the State has indeed gone down. So we’re on our way!! Again.)

The other good news around here is that I was able to finally stop looking at (so much) porn and actually made room in my day to get some great work done on Thug Luckless: Welcome to P-Town yesterday. Yay!

To be serious, though — all this porn lately has been mostly research for Thug Luckless, since he is an AI sex robot and I don’t know what it’s like to own one or to develop feelings for one, etc. And as intriguing as those types of porn videos actually are (homemade videos of guys & gals having sex with their dolls and robots), they always stick a link in there that takes you off in another unexpected direction, and before you know it, you have left those hallowed halls of research and are just watching (tons of ) awesome & addicting porn…

And I wish I could say that all this lockdown and quarantine stuff is what has turned me into a hardcore porn fan, however,  COVID 19 is a relatively new development…

And I also have to say that 95% of the porn that’s out there really bores me. I have a narrow and rigid set of (mostly super fetishistic) criteria for what interests me, porn-wise — or it just has to be unexpectedly unexpected. (For instance, I stumbled upon this teenage Russian guy yesterday who has apparently been quite an exhibitionist for quite a while now, but he was new to me. And I found him just fascinating.  And he was one of those reasons why cellphones are kind of awesome. I think all porn should come from teenage guys alone in their rooms, regardless of what language they speak, because all the best porn has always come from teenage guys, even when they are long past their actual teenage years.) (I’m sort of just kidding about that — no need to encourage teenage boys the world over to start sending me their homemade porn. Thank you very much, though, for thinking of me.)

Okay. So!  Fridays, Saturdays, and Sundays are the days I work on Thug and last weekend was a sort of washout, so I was really glad to finally have some new pages come out that I really liked. The storyline is starting to get a little dark, but it’s a post-apocalyptic, dystopian, erotic science fiction novel, so it’s just gonna get dark. Plain & simple.

On other topics…

As far as those fan music videos on Bad Seed TeeVee — 99% of the ones I have managed to catch have been just beautiful. I think they’re streaming all weekend so you can still check them out here.

I saw one guy singing “Avalanche” and his voice was just stunning. Really beautiful. Even though “Avalanche” is technically a Leonard Cohen song, Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds covered it very early on — early 80s, I think.

But I just love to see what singers & musicians, in general, come up with nowadays. Especially since it has now gotten so incredibly affordable to just make great music on your laptop and/or your phone.

All righty. I’m gonna get back to work here on Thug. I hope you’re having a terrific Saturday, wherever you are in the world. Thanks for visiting, gang. I have nothing to leave you with today. There was utter silence in my kitchen this morning — except of course for the crickets. Not even a single bird song until 6:24am. It is just so bittersweet — how the summer has raced away from me. But I’m sure you have your own music to listen to, so enjoy!! I love you guys. See ya!

Mice, not practicing social distancing

 

 

 

 

Another Stunning Day in Crazeysburg!!

The weather has just been astoundingly great this summer, gang. It truly has.  Hot and sunny during the day, cool at night. Even during the worst of the heatwave, it was always cool by morning.

And today is no different.  Even though the virus still leaves its mark on everything, beautiful weather makes everything more endurable.

Well, in my opinion, it does.

A quick FYI and then I will veer far from the topic of politics: Yesterday,  Kevin Clinesmith was the first to plead guilty to “the Obama FBI’s fraudulent Russiagate operation against Trump. And more guilty pleas are expected to follow.”

There was apparently some sort of massive plea bargain involved in that guilty plea, so I’m guessing he won’t go to prison, but at least people are now being forced to come forward and admit that the whole Russiagate thing was a lie and a waste of time and of taxpayer’s money. Simply because Obama’s administration wanted Hillary to win and they hated Trump.

So. No Russiagate. Big surprise there, right? And oddly enough, even as far back as 2016, even the Russians were saying there was no Russiagate. But the more I tried to blog about that whole thing, the more my computer kept getting hacked, so I had to stop… But there we have it.

(And a long, long, LONG time ago, I used to actually respect Nancy Pelosi. Now I wish she’d just find herself another job. She makes Democrats look like hate-filled maniacs.)

Okay, that was the politics. Now, onward.

Nick Cave sent out another Red Hand File today that was so beautiful.  It’s about a non-verbal teenager in Australia, Tyler Hartfield who suffers from cerebral palsy, and a song he wrote and performed with his band at school. The coverage in Australia and the band performing the song can be found here. (Tyler’s musical inspiration is Nick Cave.) (Also an Australian, in case, for some inexplicable reason, you didn’t know that.)

The song is really good. A real triumph.

Okay. I did indeed speak with Valerie yesterday, and we went over the cover at for The Guitar Hero Goes Home!! Just a couple text-based things need to be added and we will be done and ready to publish it, gang!!

I will still have to get a test print to see how it looks in reality before I can actually let it go to print. But we are indeed almost there. And hopefully the novel will be available for sale in POD and eBook formats by the time I am a guest on those 2 upcoming podcasts, wherein I will be promoting the book! Yay.

Then, next in line for print publication (POD, to be precise), will be The Muse Revisited, Volume 4: The Selected Erotic Fiction of Marilyn Jaye Lewis (aka: Me) 1994-2012.

So we are making progress here with this HUGE stack of stuff on my desk (and down on the floor around my desk).  Plus, I am under the growing suspicion that the current novel I’m working on, Thug Luckless: Welcome to P-Town, is going to be a very interesting book, gang. The kind of book that no publisher on Earth (except maybe Last Gasp) would ever publish.  So there is just no reason to think I am not just going to publish it myself.

But it is such a liberating feeling — to just write the book the way it seems to be asking to be written without worrying about who on Earth would publish it and/or which bookstore on Earth would agree to sell it. (And I’m not wading into any of the traditional taboo subjects that have given me problems with the FBI and the US Attorney General’s office in the past. So I’m not worried that the book will be against the law in any way, it will just be for certain forewarned audiences.) (i.e.: “Warning: this book is likely to offend you in some way so be forewarned.” That kind of thing. But I just feel that, before I die, there are these things I want to express about humanity and tolerance and decency and joy and sex and love and regret and horror and duplicity and savagery and people who look the other way.)

All righty! On that note, I’m going to get going here. The morning is rapidly disappearing.

I hope you’re enjoying your Thursday, wherever you are in the world. I leave you with my breakfast-listening music form this morning (and truth be told, it followed me clear into yoga this morning, too!).

I’ve posted it here many times, but here it is again, for your listening pleasure!! Cat Stevens’ “Moonshadow,” from his massively popular 1971 album, Teaser and the Firecat.

(And tomorrow, I will start posting new videos/songs from the upcoming Tom Petty Wildflowers part 2 box collection. His official web site has started to release the stuff on YouTube today.)

Meanwhile, enjoy “Moonshadow” for the millionth time! Okay. Thanks for visiting. I love you guys. See ya.

“Moonshadow”

Oh, I’m bein’ followed by a moonshadow, moonshadow, moonshadow
Leapin and hoppin’ on a moonshadow, moonshadow, moonshadow

And if I ever lose my hands, lose my plough, lose my land,
Oh if I ever lose my hands, Oh if… I won’t have to work no more.
And if I ever lose my eyes, if my colours all run dry,
Yes if I ever lose my eyes, Oh if… I won’t have to cry no more.

Yes I’m bein’ followed by a moonshadow, moonshadow, moonshadow
Leapin’ and hoppin’ on a moonshadow, moonshadow, moonshadow

And if I ever lose my legs, I won’t moan, and I won’t beg,
Yes if I ever lose my legs, Oh if… I won’t have to walk no more.
And if I ever lose my mouth, all my teeth, north and south,
Yes if I ever lose my mouth, Oh if… I won’t have to talk…

Did it take long to find me? I asked the faithful light.
Did it take long to find me? And are you gonna stay the night?

I’m bein’ followed by a moonshadow, moonshadow, moonshadow
Leapin’ and hoppin’ on a moonshadow, moonshadow, moonshadow
Moonshadow, moonshadow, moonshadow, moonshadow

© 1971 Islam Yusef (Cat Stevens)

All Righty! We’re Gonna Try Not To Look at Porn Here Today!!

It wasn’t my fault, actually. It was Valerie’s.

I was just killing time, waiting for her phone call because she texted me early yesterday morning, to say she had finished the layout for the cover design of The Guitar Hero Goes Home and would send it over momentarily and then call me to discuss it…

I didn’t want to get too involved with anything important because I would only get interrupted when her phone call came. So, of course, I was looking at even more Hentai 3D Monster Porn. (See my posts from the last 2 or 3 days…) (To be fair, there is a whole lot of that stuff, gang, and the deeper you dig into it, the more your mind just gets totally blown.)

But, actually — in all seriousness– part of it is research, although I’m not going to say for what.

Anyway. Hours were flying by. Literally. Hours. Monster Porn-filled hours.

I went out to the yard and took care of all the flowers. I had lunch. I looked at the mail. Paid some bills. Looked at the phone for perhaps a text from Valerie. An update of sorts. Nothing.

So I looked at more monster porn. And gradually it became less about “research” and more about: holy shit, this stuff is fucking insane. (I actually totally love 3D hentai, and hentai monster porn is my all-out favorite, mostly because the minds that create this stuff astound me.)

Eventually, I got a text from Valerie, saying that the phone call wasn’t gonna happen (oh really?) and then I called my dad. I had dinner. I streamed some more of Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries (I’m back to season 1 because I’m done with all the newer seasons now and don’t want to let it go, and have discovered that I don’t recall any of the episodes from season 1 because it was 8 years ago, so it’s once again, brand new to me).

And then, the evening was so fucking lovely — just the most amazing evening for mid-August. So I sat at the kitchen table, gave one happy eye to Miss Fisher and the other deeply happy eye to my phone, where upon I began looking at even more Hentai 3D Monster Porn and was finally forced to admit to myself that the screen was way too small on the phone…

So I closed down the house for the night, even though it was only 7:30pm and even though the evening was so fucking lovely, and I went back upstairs to the 14-inch-screen on the  laptop and spent the rest of the night in my room.

By the time I was finally indescribably supersaturated with monster porn, it was pitch dark outside. Jesus, you know?? I could not believe myself. Even though, technically, I did do other things throughout the day yesterday, I was basically looking at monster porn for 12 hours.

(And it was actually really fun.)

However. You know. You don’t want to have a day like that twice in a row. You might start to feel like a slacker.

So.

There is a very good chance Valerie is calling me this afternoon, but I’m not going to plan on it. I’m going to just get to work here. I know that if she doesn’t call me today, she will call tomorrow, so I’m going to focus on Thug Luckless: Welcome to P-Town and just see how the day unfolds.

I can’t tell you how beautiful it is again here today, gang. Just another truly stunning day.  My new vacuum cleaner hasn’t arrived yet, but I’m actually really excited about getting it. I love getting new vacuum cleaners.  And even though I vacuumed the whole house on Sunday (before the old vacuum cleaner exploded), the house already needs to be vacuumed again. (The joys of 7 strictly indoor cats…) So I can’t wait!! I hope it arrives today.

Meanwhile…

The Nick Cave Instagram feed announced this morning that this upcoming weekend is when they will show all those videos that fans have sent in of themselves and/or their bands, doing covers of songs by Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds. Apparently, every entry will play on the Bad Seed TeeVee channel. So tune-in and watch everybody!! And then one winner will be selected.

(And the lucky winner will not win £200 wallpaper from cavethings.com…)

Load image into Gallery viewer, Hyatt Girls Wallpaper
Hyatt Girls wallpaper

(I really love that wallpaper but I cannot wrap my mind around the £200 price tag right now.  Even though I don’t have a room in this house wherein I could actually hang that wallpaper, still.  You know. I’d like to buy it and maybe save it for the next house, or my room in the nursing home. At least, I’d be assured to get visitors in my old age…)

Well, all right. I’m gonna get started here today. For real, this time. Have a great Wednesday, wherever you are in the world!! Thanks for visiting, gang. I leave you with a dirty song about a man in love with another man’s truck….(or is it?? You decide!!). The Traveling Wilburys’ “Dirty World” from the 1988 album,The Traveling Wilburys, Vol. 1. Okay! Enjoy, gang. I love you guys. See ya!

“Dirty World”

He loves your sexy body, he loves your dirty mind
He loves when you hold him, grab him from behind
Oh baby, you’re such a pretty thing
I can’t wait to introduce you to the other members of my gang

You don’t need no wax job, you’re smooth enough for me
If you need your oil changed I’ll do it for you free
Oh baby, the pleasure would be all mine
If you let me drive your pickup truck and park it where the sun don’t shine

Every time he touches you his hair stands up on end
His legs begin to quiver and his mind begins to bend
Oh baby, you’re such a tasty treat
But I’m under doctor’s orders, I’m afraid to overeat

He loves your sense of humor, your disposition too
There’s absolutely nothing that he don’t love about you
Oh baby, I’m on my hands and knees
Life would be so simple if I only had you to please

Oh baby, turn around and say goodbye
You go to the airport now and I’m going home to cry
He loves your…

Electric dumplings
Red bell peppers
Fuel injection
Service charge
Five-speed gearbox
Long endurance
Quest for junk food
Big refrigerator
Trembling Wilbury
Marble earrings
Porky curtains
Power steering
Bottled water
Parts and service

Dirty world, a dirty world, it’s a fucking dirty world

© 1988 – George Harrison, Tom Petty, Bob Dylan, Jeff Lynne,  Roy Orbison

Happy Tuesday to All You Groovy Cats & Kittens!!

Another splendid day here in Crazeysburg. I hope you’ve got similar weather wherever you are in the world.

If you follow zodiac-celestial things, you are likely aware that we have a killer new moon going on right now. And by “killer” I only mean that it’s one of those new moons that cause emotional chaos and are putting most people on edge.

So if you’re feeling a little crazy and don’t know why — by Thursday , everything should work itself out quite nicely.

I hope.

My world is actually kind of fine.  The trip into town yesterday was effortless. I managed to get there and back and do the marketing in a little over an hour, which means I must have been speeding in both directions, because it’s not really possible to get to town and back, let alone also do the marketing in less than an hour and a half if you’re going the speed limit…

I got a wonderful little text from my ex-husband in NYC last evening. Well, he’s not in NYC right now. He and one of his brothers rented a pick-up truck and took a drive out West. And yesterday, they reached Montana — West Yellowstone, to be exact, where my friend Kevin lives from May to October. (This is the Kevin who keeps his 1965 VW camper van in my barn all summer). I had told Wayne to look up Kevin when they got to West Yellowstone.

Well, lo & behold, the text came last evening with photos of Wayne (my ex) and Kevin — both smiling happily!!!! It was so cool. And guess what was in the background of one of the photos? Kevin’s other 1965 vintage VW camper van!! Only that one was sky blue and the one Kevin keeps here is dark green.

1965 VW Split Screen 11 Window Camper Van – Left Hand Drive ...
This is not Kevin’s but his camper in Montana looks like this.

It was just so nice to see them together in the photos. And so weird to think the two of them have now met — no one who I have become friends or acquaintances with since 2003 has ever met Wayne. It’s so odd that the one and only person who now has met him would be Kevin. In Montana, no less. Thousands of miles from here.

My chat yesterday with the other Kevin — the man who is directing my play — was just so great, gang. I am so excited about this staged reading getting underway. And some early feedback I am getting from actors and tech people regarding the actual play (meaning they read the script), is kind of blowing me away.  It means so much to me that they are able to relate to what I’ve written about Helen LaFrance’s life.

As you are likely aware, here in America, a faction of the black entertainment community has come down really hard on white people telling the stories of black lives. Which is why the original reading that was set to happen in June came to a screeching halt during the nationwide riots. And also why I was beginning to fear my play would never be produced in the US and would have to be produced in another country.

Well, I can’t tell you how happy the early feedback is making me feel (from black actors telling the director).  I’m still trying to keep a low profile, though, in all of this because I want the play to speak for itself, and for the attention to be on Helen’s art and life, not on whoever wrote the play.

But I am indeed very quietly excited out here in the middle of Nowhere, Ohio. I have been working on this project for 8 years now.

By the way, we have decided to make the reading entirely free to stream, and we’ll likely keep it free for at least a couple of weeks after the initial event, and then make it password protected after that. But please try to watch it!! Since it won’t happen until Sunday evening, November 8th, there is plenty of time for me to constantly remind you!!

(It will stream on YouTube, here on this blog, on the Tell My Bones web site and Facebook page, and on a number of other entertainment-based web sites.)

Well, speaking of web sites that are “entertainment” based, I was streaming more hentai 3D monster porn yesterday when I unfortunately stumbled upon what looked like a front for really horrible porn that uses young Asian women who are most probably victims of human sex trafficking.

It absolutely turned my stomach. If you have had enough experience with producers of  professional porn, the difference in “regular” porn — even BDSM porn — and porn that exploits slavery and uses actual slaves against their will is often glaringly obvious: the women (or children) look terrified, demoralized, drugged and/or half-dead.

I reported the company on the National Human Trafficking website. It’s hard to say if anything can come from it — the “production” company is based in Los Angeles, but the videos themselves were from Asia.

You know, if you live in the US, and you think any type of human trafficking is going on — porn, prostitution, or labor-related– you can easily report it anonymously, through sending a message or live chat on their website (humantraffickinghotline.org/), calling them 1-888-373-7888 ( TTY: 711) or texting them, 233733.

That stuff just makes me so sick. I just can’t tell you.

On another topic…

Nick Cave sent out a Red Hand File today that was one of those really eloquent ones.  Be sure to set aside plenty of time to read it and take in the full scope of it. I am, of course, just kidding. It’s one of those replies that is only one word. But, still — it was a really good word. You can read it here.

Well, all righty!! That’s it for today, gang. Depending on whether or not I hear from Valerie today, I’m either working on the finishing touches for the publication of The Guitar Hero Goes Home, or I’m working on some new stuff for Thug Luckless: Welcome to P-Town.

And in the middle of all of it, I eagerly await the arrival of my new vacuum cleaner!!

So, have a terrific Tuesday, wherever you are in the world. Thanks for visiting. I leave you with my breakfast-listening music from this morning — “Right Now I’m A-Roaming”, 1997, Nick Cave & the Bad Seeds. (It’s come out on a  few things, but I know it from their 2005 collection B-Sides & Rarities.) I’ve posted it here a couple of times before, but here it is again! So, enjoy. I love you guys. See ya!

“Right Now I’m A-roaming”

When I get home, I’m gunna clean up my house
When I get home, I’m gunna kick out that mouse
When I get home, I’m gunna put things in order
but right now, right right now, right now I’m a-roaming

When I get home, I’m gunna make that call
When I get home, I’m gunna talk it through
When I get home, I’m gunna straighten it out
but right now, right now, right now I’m a-roaming

When I get home, I’m gunna give up the booze
When I get home, I’m gunna get me some food
When I get home, I’m gunna quit them drugs
but right now, right now, right now I’m a-roaming

When I get home, I’m gunna call my mother
When I get home, I’m gunna cook her some dinner
When I get home, I’m gunna invite my brothers
but right now, right right now, right now I’m a-roaming

When I get home, I’m gunna see my little boy
When I get home, I’m buy him a little toy
When I get home, he’s gunna jump for joy
but right now, right right now, right now I’m a-roaming

When I get home, I’m gunna unpack my bags
When I get home, I’m gunna waash these dirty rags
When I get home, I’m gunna pack ’em up again
but I’m gunna go, I’m gunna go, I’m gunna go right back roaming.

© – 1997 Martyn Casey, Mick Harvey, Conway Savage, Thomas Wydler, Nick Cave

Really Gotta Scoot, Gang!!

It is already super, super, SUPER sunny here today, and it’s going to be very hot. So I want to get an early start into town to get the groceries.

I don’t want to complain, though, because the rest of the week is supposed to be overcast and full of thunderstorms. Of course the crops need the rain. But anyway. I’m going to try to make the best out of the sun today, but stay out of it as much as I can.

Last night’s episode of Endeavor was definitely worth waiting one year for. (I noticed in the opening credits last night that it’s actually spelled the British way: Endeavour. Only took me 7 years to notice this.)

I’m not crazy about watching it on the flat screen TV with the firestick 4, though, because it is so intensely HD that it has that “live” look to it — the “film” quality is completely gone. I actually wound up switching halfway through it, and going back to watching it on the iPad.

But everything else looks okay on the firestick 4, although it still seems so weird to have the TV in the kitchen.  I was watching a special about Viking Warrior Women last evening and suddenly noticed that I actually had both my legs — bare feet included — up on the kitchen table  while I was leaning back in my chair (!!!). Jesus. That’s a little too bohemian for me…

Anyway. Where to put the TV is the worst of my troubles right now.

Today is “reading other writers’ works” day! So I’ll be back in the Netherlands (mentally), reading Whatever Comes My Way: Travels in the Netherlands, by Roger Gaess. Today, I’m going to find out about Zwolle, Eindhoven, Venlo, and Maastricht! (I don’t know if I’m going to find out how to pronounce the names of those cities, but I feel certain that we’re going to find out where all the bars are!!)

Yesterday was a bit of a washout.  I wrote nothing new on Thug Luckless: Welcome to P-Town. I simply could not get the brain to function properly — it just kept drifting away from me (see yesterday’s post re: how the morning started out). That stuff kind of depresses me when it happens, but oh well. The week’s over. On Friday, I can get back to work on Thug Luckless.

By late yesterday afternoon, I finally gave up on trying to write. So I streamed some things on  the TV, waiting for the magical hour of 9pm, when Endeavour came on. I watched the above-mentioned Viking Warrior Women thing (fascinating, actually), and then another great episode of Miss Fisher’s Murder Mysteries. And then I also watched Napoleon Dynamite.

I had never seen that movie. It was a huge hit among teenagers back when it came out, but I was 44 when it came out! Anyway, I know that now it’s sort of culturally iconic so I wanted to finally watch it. I really enjoyed it. It was a very sweet & touching film, overall. And I did laugh out loud at a lot of it.

I took a walk over to the cemetery, too. Not to look at the graves, so much, as to see the panorama of cornfields.  The cornfields are everywhere around here, and the corn is really tall now. It’s so pretty to look at it. For as far as the eye can see now, the valleys are filled with rows and rows of corn, and then the valleys are surrounded by green hills, covered in trees. Just really pretty to look at. Helps me forget all the COVID nonsense.

Meanwhile, more wonderful developments re: Tell My Bones. I’ll keep you updated when I can start blogging about it. I’m super excited by the potential prospects.

Okay, that’s it today, gang. I’m going to head into town now. Have a great Monday, wherever you are in the world!! Thanks for visiting. I leave you with my listening music from this morning — Bob Dylan, “It’s All Good,” from his Together Through Life album (2009). (Below is a live version, the only version I could find, but it’s all good!!!) All righty! Enjoy. I love you guys. See ya!

“It’s All Good”

Talk about me babe, if you must.
Throw out the dirt; pile on the dust.
I’d do the same thing if I could
You know what they say? They say it’s all good.
All good.
It’s all good.

Big politician telling lies;
Restaurant kitchen all full of flies.
Don’t make a bit of difference; don’t see why it should.
But it’s alright, cause its all good.
Its all good.
Its all good.

Wives are leavin’ their husbands; they’re beginning to roam.
They leave the party and they never get home.
I wouldn’t change it even if I could
You know what they say, man, it’s all good.
It’s all good.
All good.

Brick by brick, they tear you down.
A teacup of water is enough to drown.
You oughta know, if they could, they would
Whatever goin’ down, it’s all good.

All good.
Said it’s all good.

People in the country, People on the land.
Some of them so sick they can hardly stand.
Everybody would move away if they could
Its hard to believe but its all good.
Yeah…

Well widows cry; the orphans plea.
Everywhere you look there’s more misery.
Come along with me babe, I wish you would.
You know what I’m sayin’, it’s all good.

All good.
I said it’s all good.
All good.

Cold blooded killer stomp into town
Cop car’s blinkin’, something bad goin’ down.
Buildings are crumblin, in the neighborhood.
But there’s nothing to worry about, cause it’s all good.
It’s all good.
I say it’s all good.

Gonna whistle and blow it in your face.
This time tomorrow I’ll be rollin’ in your place.
I wouldn’t change a thing even if I could.
You know what they say?
They say it’s all good.
It’s all good.
It’s all good.

© 2009 Bob Dylan

A Whacked-Out Sunday is Certainly Underway in Crazeysburg!

Just one of those days, gang.

I did not want to get out of bed (eventually, though, I did).

I did NOT (capital letters there) want to get on the treadmill this morning, but after sitting on the edge of my bed and staring at stuff for almost 2 hours, I finally forced myself to go downstairs and get on the fucking treadmill.

Then I showered. Washed my hair. I have all the earmarks of someone who’s actually doing stuff here this morning, but I am struggling to make that happen.

Mostly, I know how depressed I can get if I avoid doing stuff, so I try to just make it happen. Plus, I’ve lost 7 pounds now. 5 more pounds and I’m back to pre-COVID weight. So I don’t want to lose sight of that.

Well, that documentary on Creem Magazine (Creem: America’s Only  Rock & Roll Magazine), was really good.  I can’t emphasize enough how that magazine shaped my perception of myself and music and New York City in the 1970s, and had a lot to do with me moving to NYC in 1980 (rather than to Nashville, which was where a lot of people said I should have moved).

It was really cool to see the interviews with some of the musicians who were around my age, who were also just as influenced by Creem. It was quite a magazine, there was just nothing like it.

The documentary is mostly about the people who started it and how & why it got started, and the personalities involved (many of the writers there became quite well known). Lots of 1970s-excesses, though, which lead, sadly to suicides and accidental deaths by overdose.

Plus, the zine was so indescribably politically incorrect that by today’s standards, people now would start twitter-storms and social media hate bombs. All that nonsense. There was never a racial problem with Creem — because back then, the music from the black communities and the white communities usually mixed. But the writers at Creem were often insensitive to absolutely everyone’s feelings — expecting the people they wrote about to stand up for themselves (they did!). And they were also writing simply to provoke and to get readers worked up and involved.

The magazine was actually really fun. And fucking funny. (For the reader, anyway.) I definitely enjoyed watching the documnetary and taking that trip down memory lane, where people weren’t so intensely hung up on stuff (politics).

Plus, I miss rock & roll. Which is just basically dead now.

Creem magazine's wild misfit days of sex, drugs and rock 'n' roll

All righty. Good news continues to develop regarding Tell My Bones, but I still can’t blog about it. But it’s certainly helping me feel like there is something on the horizon besides more and more COVID and more and more shouting about politics.

I’m hoping to just focus on Thug Luckless: Welcome to P-Town today, but then tonight!!! Season 7 of Endeavor begins on PBS!!!!! And I, for one, cannot wait!!

Amazon.com: Watch Masterpiece: Endeavour, Season One | Prime Video

Well, I think that’s about it for today, gang.  I hope you have a terrific Sunday, wherever you are in this wonderful world.  Thanks for visiting. I leave you with the Everly Brothers this morning! I am currently listening to their Greatest Hits during the wee small hours of dawn. And this is certainly one of them: “Love Hurts.” (If you’re too young to know who the Everly Brothers were, they were actual brothers from Kentucky who sang and harmonized together like angels.) (Egos eventually got too big and they split up, but before that happened, they had tons of huge hits.) Okay, well, enjoy! I love you guys. See ya.

Yay for Difficult Women!!

Good morning, gang. What a lovely Saturday it is here in Crazeysburg.

I’m finishing the laundry right now and beyond that, I have nothing on my plate today but working on Thug Luckless: Welcome to P-Town, so what could be nicer?

And this evening, I’m streaming the new documentary film Creem: America’s Only Rock ‘N Roll Magazine (!!!).

Creem was my absolute most favorite magazine of all time, and when I was a teenager, I looked forward to every single issue with every fiber of my being, because to me, it was my only connection to the outside world — to what I considered the “real” world. (And I believe, even all these decades later, that I was right.)  Stream the movie here. Here’s the trailer:

On a similar note… Yesterday’s issue of Please Kill Me had a great interview with Angela Bowie Barnett (aka Angie Bowie) by Lucretia Tye Jasmine. (Hence the title of today’s post.) If you are not old enough to remember David Bowie’s career, a point came when he was extremely famous and Angie left him, and then the PR machines and Bowie’s management, etc., did their best to silence her, discredit her, de-materialize her, and just plain disappear her.

I honestly believe that David Bowie would never have figured out how to become “David Bowie” if it weren’t for Angie.  In the beginning, she was his manager. They created everything about his onstage persona together. Working really, really hard to come up with a version of “David Bowie” that could actually sell records. (It took years to accomplish that, btw.)

And now that Bowie is completely and thoroughly, 100% dead, people are more interested in what she has to say about the past.

My favorite exchange from the interview:

Responding to my question, “Was David the love of your life?” Angie says, “Excuse me?”

I repeat the question, falteringly. “Good God, no!” We laugh. “I had a headache with David, I really did. And it wasn’t anything to do with him. It was to do with the people stealing the business from me…I was furious.”

But managing someone’s career is tedious. “They’re totally and utterly egocentric. Not at all interested in anyone else on the planet. Dealing with them becomes tedious after ten years.”

Their breakup didn’t feel like a betrayal.

“I was dying to get out.” David’s drug addiction made him the best liar. “I just couldn’t stand it. It was nauseating. It made me sick. So I just wanted to get it over with and be gone.”

“At a certain stage, you just stop. You’ve realized…it’s enough now. And you want to move on.”  — Lucretia Tye Jasmine, PleaseKillMe.com

And here is the accompanying photo!! Angie, Iggy , Lou Reed with Creem magazine!! Photo by the great Lee Black Childers.

I was a huge fan of Bowie’s from 1973 onward. I really was. But he was always a shifting “persona.”  A carefully crafted character. He was  never just himself in public, in the world. Ever. I had no feel for who he really was as a human being, and when he died, I didn’t miss him at all. Because I never felt “who he really was”. He was sort of just a big PR machine that made music I usually really liked.

Well, the music lives on and I still like it, but I have no real idea who the man was and, actually, at this point, I don’t really care.

Unlike people like Lou Reed and Iggy Pop, Keith Richards, Ronnie Wood, Tom Petty, even Elvis — those guys wore their whole hearts & lives right out in the open, all over themselves; whether or not it got really messy. They weren’t just trying to sell records and concert tickets. They were (are) human beings.

Okay. So!

Yesterday, FIRE (the Foundation for Individual Rights in Education) sent out a press release that just made me completely insane (you can read it here), about a student at Stockton University in New Jersey who is facing a fine and suspension because he had a photo of President Trump as his background on a zoom conference and other students  felt “offended, disrespected, and taunted.”

It is absolutely unbelievable how intolerant and fearful so many young liberal Americans are now when people have points of view that differ from theirs. The spinelessness is just unreal.

“In my day” — we were all just thrown to the wolves and you had to figure out how to survive. No matter your race, religious beliefs, sexual preferences, etc. We were all just sent to school and we had to figure out to survive it, you know?

Trump is the fucking President, whether you like that or not. He got elected through the electoral college. It was legal. He got elected. He’s the President. Fucking deal with it. A reminder to just go out and fucking vote during an election year. Jesus.

And though it would be legal, it’s not “threatening” like using Hitler, or Goering and Goebbels and Himmler, with tons of swastikas as your zoom background. (Although I am wont to put American Leftist students onto a dangerous path that leads to men like them.)

This absolutely terrified way of non-thinking is truly prevalent, gang. It’s in universities all over the country and it’s been going on for a lot of years already — but it is getting worse. And it’s not just students, it extends to faculty members, too. (Even tenured professors are getting death threats, and online hate campaigns, and threatened with disciplinary actions for the opinions they hold.) (You might recall the director of my play, Tell My Bones, was told to take down one of Helen LaFrance’s paintings as his zoom background because his (white) colleagues accused him of behaving like a white plantation master with a bunch of slaves. And it made them “uncomfortable.” Fucking ART makes them uncomfortable — and he’s so fucking liberal; it’s ludicrous. ) (I can’t even really tell you how furious that made me. There aren’t even enough words, really.)

It really is just out of control. I got so fed up yesterday, that I wrote a letter to the Dean of Stockton University.

And I guess, as long as we have a Constitution in place here,  I’ll just keep writing letters now. Sometimes it actually helps, gang, when people think the world is watching them. (I used to write tons of letters for Amnesty International, for people in various countries who were wrongfully imprisoned — and the letters worked.  The people were freed. From fucking prisons in awful places.)

The Constitution means everything to me.  It kept me out of prison when John Ashcroft and the President George W. Bush crew were trying to round up Internet-based pornographers all over America and get them into federal prisons. It was fucking scary.

But that same Constitution covers everybody’s rights to free expression in America — even for Republicans and various conservatives, who perhaps would have preferred that I had gone to prison. It doesn’t matter what side of the fence you’re on. You have your right to express what you believe.

All righty!! I’m going to get on with this wonderful day and go work some more on Thug Luckless: Welcome to P-Town. (My Constitutional right to free expression in action, all day long!!!)

Last night, I was listening to e e cummings read some of his poetry on YouTube. So I’ll leave you with a little of that today. It’s old, of course, and not the clearest sound quality, but it’s still pretty cool to listen to his actual voice. So, hope you enjoy. Thanks for visiting, gang. I love you guys. See ya!