Tag Archives: Rambling Ruminations

Conversations at a Funeral

13 Jul

This week, we buried the father of my good friend. His death was expected, but that did not lessen the grief of the family and friends. The visitation and funeral were held in what I believe is our town’s best funeral home, housed in a stately manor that was the home of the Confederate Governor of Tennessee. He never took office because Union troops took Nashville rather quickly.

I have always found the actions of people at visitations and funerals interesting. I tend to sit back, observe and eavesdrop on conversations; and, in the process, I discover something interesting. There will almost always be an old lady who says, “It’s an awful good turnout.” It’s like she is talking about the crowd at  a ballgame or something.

Since I brought up sports, I should mention that it is the main topic of conversation among the men at a visitation. What’s going to happen this season? Are you going to watch the game tonight? There is also talk of work and travel. A constant line is “I haven’t seen you in forever.” On and on, the conversations go, but there is one topic that is hardly mentioned – DEATH.

The funeral service even stays away from death. The preachers talk about “the next life” and “everlasting life”. There is talk of this not being the end but rather the beginning. I realize this is done to comfort everyone. People at visitations avoid the topic of death because they are facing it at that very moment. Family and friends don’t want to hear about the ending of a loved one’s life, so people talk about the opposite.

Heck, I did it myself. My friend and I talked about funny stories from our past. The best one I had actually forgotten. In high school, we played a lot of backyard football and basketball at his house. Just picture a bunch of nerdy, non-athletic kids pretending like they could do something without falling all over themselves. His driveway was concrete, and that is where we were playing basketball.

One of us nerdy, non-athletic kids (not me) wanted to be like Mike and threw a behind-the-back pass. Unfortunately, the kid he was throwing it to had never heard of a behind-the-back pass and caught the ball with the bridge of his nose. The same bridge that supported his glasses. As you can imagine, glass, metal and blood went everywhere. As we stood in stunned silence, the bloody kid bent over and kept saying over and over, “I’m going to bleed on your driveway! I’m going to bleed on your driveway!”

There was another story from when were in college. My friend and I were picking up some girls to take to a party, and they answered the door wearing nothing but towels. However, I won’t bore you with the details.

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Aimless Wanderings of the Mind

9 Jul

Yesterday, some friends invited me to spend the night on a houseboat. Figuring that there would be a lot of late night commotion on the boat, I took my iPod in case I needed some solitude for sleep. As it turned out, everyone conked out fast from a day filled with activity, but I plugged the iPod into my ears anyway. The Guns n’ Roses version of “Knockin’ on Heaven’s Door” came on and the following took place in my mind.

I immediately thought of the original Bob Dylan version as it played over the death scene of Slim Pickens in Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid, one of my favorite westerns.

From there, I thought about one of the times I saw Bob Dylan in concert. He and Willie Nelson had a tour where they played in minor league baseball stadiums. As I watched them from the infield, I kept wondering what the backstage party must have been like.

Then, I started thinking about a local legend involving Willie Nelson. Tootsie’s Orchid Lounge is a famous honky-tonk in Nashville where singers and players would congregate between sets of the Grand Ole Opry.

It seems that one night Willie was in Tootsie’s drowning his sorrows at the bar. He wasn’t making it in Nashville, and, in a moment of depression, he walked outside and sprawled in the middle of Broadway. His intent was to be run over by a car. Fortunately, they got him out of the street; he went to Texas; grew out his hair; and became a legend.

When this entered my mind, I started thinking about the time I saw Willie with Ray Price and Merle Haggard. Price’s biggest hit was “For the Good Times“, which happened to be written by Kris Kristofferson, the one who played Billy the Kid in Pat Garrett and Billy the Kid.

The other person on the bill, Merle Haggard, is one of my all-time favorites. He performed a song in a movie I recently watched, and I started thinking about a song that appeared in a John Wayne movie called Chisum, an inaccurate retelling of the story of Billy the Kid.

As you can see, Billy the Kid and a bunch of connections to his pop cultural self kept entering my mind. That’s when I started thinking about the last time I visited his grave.At least, that’s his headstone. Some people claim that Billy the Kid got away and lived to be an old man. That’s doubtful. Without a doubt, a flood swept through the cemetery and washed away all of the markers. It may have even carried off a few bodies. So, Billy is probably not anywhere near this piece of rock. However, I started thinking, “What if they had buried him above ground like they do in New Orleans?”

Obviously, this started me down another tread of thought. Earlier this year, we took some students on a field trip to the French Quarter (I know. Cool teacher.), and we toured the City of the Dead, one of their above ground cemeteries. One of the most interesting graves was that of Marie Laveau, voodoo queen of New Orleans.

The grave has offerings left behind by people searching for a blessing. I thought about that, but I also thought about a song by Redbone called “The Witch Queen of New Orleans“.

New Orleans. It’s a cool city, and a lot of movies have been made there. They started running through my mind, but one that I saw the other day stuck out. It was Live and Let Die, the James Bond film that has the scene with an agent watching a funeral parade in the French Quarter. When he asks whose funeral it, he is stabbed and placed in the coffin. That’s when the parade really cranks up. Then, the theme song by Paul McCartney and Wings entered my brain.

That’s when it hit me. Holy crap. “Live and Let Die” was another movie song that was covered by Guns n’ Roses.

By this time, my mind was mush, and I mercifully faded out.

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History in the Buff

15 Jun

I started teaching history a little over ten years ago and have found out something in the intervening years. People want to talk to me about history. In and of itself, that is not a bad thing. It thrills me that people like history and want to discuss it, and I am happy to have a job that people find interesting. After all, I can’t imagine a plumber constantly being asked about fitting pipes or an accountant being asked about ledgers.

However, there is another side to the “let’s talk about history” coin, and I know it before it actually happens. It always begins with a question:

“You are a history buff aren’t you?”

Well, I’m not really a history buff. I am more like a historian, someone who makes their living studying history and providing that information to others. That question always leads to the next one:

“Can you tell me the real story about (fill in the blank)?

When this question comes out of their mouth, I know that I am in a real bind. You see, they don’t want to hear what I think or know. They want me to reinforce what they think they know. Invariably, I have to ask myself a few more questions:

“Do I tell them what the latest research says?” Or,:

“Do I let them continue to think what they want because I am not going to change their mind anyway?”

They are the true history buffs, and they can fall into several categories.

Civil War Buffs – In these parts, this is the worst bunch to deal with. They can be the Sons of Confederate Veterans, the Daughters of the Confederacy, or just someone who is obsessed with the Civil War. I can promise you that they know more about the actual “war” than I do. They know regiments, weapons, troop movements, generals, the names of the horses of generals, and a lot more minute information. There is no way I can talk to them about that stuff. Fortunately, or unfortunately, that is not what they ask about. The question is always:

“What was the Civil War really about?”

This is a no win situation. They have convinced themselves that it is about state rights, and have conveniently left out the part about states having the right to keep slavery legal. It was also about the need to spread slavery into the western territories. In short, it was all about slavery, but I can talk until I am blue in the face and they will not have their minds changed.

A few years ago, a member of the local chapter of the Sons of Confederate Veterans offered our department a sizable donation if we taught the Civil War the “right” way. We turned it down.

Old West Buffs – This category covers several groups: people who like westerns; people who compete in rodeos; people who live in the West; people who wear cowboy hats and cowboy boots. It goes on and on. However, I will use a conversation I had with a Montana rancher to illustrate my point.

Through the years, the rancher has bought cattle from my dad and invited us to see his place. It was a cool experience, but I knew I was in trouble when he found out that I was a historian of the West. I tried to stick with the fun stuff, but he asked:

“What do you think about the way things went with the Indians? Look at them. They don’t work, and they stay drunk. Useless.”

Now, how am I suppose to answer that? I am sitting at a table full of Montana ranchers who make their living off of land that Native Americans were run off from. For all I knew, their ancestors could have fought each other. Was I supposed to say that Native Americans got the biggest screwing ever? Was I supposed to say that they would be drunk too if someone took everything away from them?

I played politician and stayed away from a straight answer. After all, these are people who still believe in the myth of Custer’s Last Stand.

People who play cowboy in the east are almost as bad. They want to hear about the lone cowboy riding across the prairie and living a lifestyle of freedom. They don’t want to hear that it was a job for people who couldn’t anything else. They definitely don’t want to hear that a great many were minorities. And, they would flip upon hearing that cowboys on the trail sometimes found sexual comfort with each other.

Instead, I tell them that it is hard to be a real cowboy without any cows.

Antique Buffs – A lot of people, including old ladies, love to collect antiques. That’s great for them and the pieces they collect. It allows them to hold on to a physical piece of nostalgia, and it protects objects that would otherwise be lost. However, that doesn’t mean I am interested in their collection of dishes.

When an antique person (in interest, not age) finds out my job, they immediately start in with:

“Oh, I should show you my collection. I’m sure you would find it interesting.”

Actually, I wouldn’t.

Old House Buffs – This group is closely related to the prior group. In fact, I could have put them together. These are people who either live in an old home or are involved in the protection of an old home. Now, this is a noble cause because older homes should be protected. I wouldn’t live in one, but I am glad other people do. However, just because a home is old does not mean that it is historic.

Last year, I spoke at a meeting of a group that protects an old home in Nashville. They were nice people who listened intently, but when I was finished they just wanted to talk about how important this place was. Others showed off the work they had been doing on the old places they lived in. I am not an expert on historic preservation and could not do anything except show feigned interest. However, I know that just because a place is old does not mean it is important.

Local History Buffs – These are great people who work in archives and libraries and provide a wealth of information for researchers. However, they tend to place more importance on their local history than is realistic. Not every town has an interesting story to tell or has enough interest to attract tourists. A lot of place have that, but most do not. I am happy that it interests you, but it does not interest me (unless they had a local whorehouse).

For example, my town has pumped up a Civil War battle that was not much bigger than a bar brawl. A sign has been installed to commemorate the event, but the Sons of Confederate Veterans got mad because the map was wrong. Apparently, it had the bar on the wrong side of the square.

Now that I have ranted about people interested in history, I will finish by saying that it is better than the opposite – people who know absolutely nothing. Several years ago, I had the following conversation with a local official. It took place during a meeting about drawing tourism into our community. She began with:

“I don’t see how we can draw people here. We don’t have any history.”

“What do you mean we don’t have any history? We have a university that was founded in 1842 and educated a winner of the Nobel Peace Prize. We have the homes of three governors. We have a home that Paul McCartney used to live in. We are the home of Cracker Barrel. We have all kinds of things.”

“Well, we don’t have a presidential home like Nashville does.”

“There have only been 40-something presidents. No many counties have one of those. You go with what you have.”

“Well, I say we don’t have anything.”

With that in mind, if you fit in one of the categories that I bitched about above. I will give you this. At least you have something.

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No Idea Whatsoever

4 Jun

I have no idea what to blog about this evening. Nothing funny has happened over the weekend. I have no profound thoughts to expound to the world. There is not a list that I find fascinating enough to create. It seems that I have come to a stumbling block in my blogging path. I have noticed while perusing WordPress that a lot of people write about absolutely nothing, but I determined a long time ago that I would not resort to that. I want this space to have meaning, or at least have meaning to me.

However, here I sit writing about absolutely nothing, and I am not happy about it. So, here are a few things.

I just watched the season finale of Game of Thrones. It was pretty awesome, In fact, I liked it better than last week’s episode that everyone said was the episode-to-end-all-episodes. Now, I am watching Devil in a Blue Dress, a Denzel Washington movie from 1995 that has a great soundtrack. A few of the cuts from the album are:

“West Side Baby” by T-Bone Walker

“Good Rockin’ Tonight” by Wynonie Harris

“Chica Boo” by Lloyd Glenn

You may recognize “Good Rockin’ Tonight” because it was covered by Elvis. No last name needed. Wouldn’t it be cool to be famous enough to be known by one name? Elvis. Madonna. Fabio. You can’t put a price on that kind of fame. I saw on a site dedicated to blog tips that a picture should always be included. It makes the page look better and breaks up the reading. I will type in one-named celebrities and see what comes up.

Now, there is a real threesome. Takes me back to the glory days of the 80s, the days of parachute pants and my Camaro Z-28. Man, those were the days. I would cruise the Main and make my turns at Kroger and Sonic. Speaking of Sonic, I wrote a post about that place a long time ago, and I still haven’t gotten a good answer to my question.

There are other questions that I would like to know the answer to. For instance,

What was in the case in Ronin?

What was in the case in Pulp Fiction?

You know what? I know what was in them. They were filled with McGuffin’s, something used to drive a plot. That shouldn’t be confused with McGuffey’s Readers, books used for almost 100 years to teach kids how to read. The stories usually had a Biblical theme which kind of blew the old separation of church and state thing out the window.

Speaking of windows, I believe that I am reaching my window of opportunity to end this rambling post about nothing. If you made it this far, then I congratulate you. Next time, I will write a post about something.

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The Price of a Decent Burial

23 May

I like old movies. Maybe it’s because I am a historian. Maybe it’s because, like some people have said, I have an old soul. But, whatever the reason, I like old movies. I say that because it leads me into this post, but also because it makes me a little different that most of the people in my life that are my age. And, that leads me into this post as well.

Cat on a Hot Tin Roof is an old movie that I try to watch when I catch it on the guide. I have never seen it from start to finish, but I have seen it all in pieces. Kind of like Gone With the Wind. It has great quotes. Burl Ives should be in every scene. Elizabeth Taylor is at the top of the hotness meter – to the point that I wish the movie was made today so she could lose that white slip at least once.

All of that is great. However, there is one line by Paul Newman that has always struck home with me. While arguing with Big Daddy, Brick says, “I’m not worth the price of a decent burial.” When I find myself in the throes of a depressed state, this line plays over and over in my head. Since I find myself in that sort of state at the moment, that is what this post is about. So, if you are here for some movie history or a happy time, then you should probably stop reading now.

Like the movie character, there are times when I feel that “I’m not worth the price of a decent burial.” People see me as a financially successful person, but all of that came from the monetary seeds planted by my parents. Some see me as an involved member of the community, but I do a good job of serving on boards and committees without leading them. Others say that I am a good history teaching (which I believe sometimes), but that is really the only thing that I am good at. In fact, I can’t think of another job in the world that I am qualified to do. What’s funny is that I am pretty sure I got that job because the folks who did the hiring thought some donations would come with me. In short, if I didn’t have my last name and live in this town I am pretty sure that I would be a bust in life. On second thought, maybe I am already with a few frails and dressings to hide it.

Through the years, I have been told numerous times how useless I am. Perhaps, they didn’t mean it that way, but I took it that way.

You’re a man. You are supposed to know how to change a tire.

What do you mean you don’t grill? If you knew how to cook you would be married by now.

I can’t believe you don’t mow your own yard.

You sleep late and stay up late. Normal people get up in the morning and start accomplishing things.

I can’t believe you want to sit around and read when you could be up doing something.

The list goes on and on. And, it’s true. I’m not good at anything. I’m not good around the house. I’m not good with finances. All I am good at is filling my mind with information, and that is not enough in the eyes of many.

Maybe, I am just different from the people around me. I don’t see the importance of spending my time working in dirt or grease. I don’t believe in a supernatural being. I don’t care how other people live their lives and definitely don’t judge them for it.

It seems that people want me to fit in a cookie cutter pattern that everyone else has jammed themselves into. I just can’t make myself do it. Obviously, I need to go back to therapy.

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Tales of the Blue Chairs

7 May

My office sits at the end of a hallway and would be considered by many to be in an out-of-the-way corner where little activity takes place. I mean that’s what I thought when I first moved into it. That’s why I picked it. No one would be walking by. There wouldn’t be much noise. The only ones who would come back there would be doing it for business purposes only. However, the decorators decided to put three blue chairs a few feet away from my door.

Through the years, the blue chairs have become a popular spot for people waiting for class. More often than not, people work on their computer; study for a test; read a book; or sleep. In short, they are doing the things that college students do. But, there are times when things change and the atmosphere becomes conversational. Groups gather before class and talk about things that college students talk about. That’s not surprising.

The surprise is that the conversations go on like I am not even there. It’s like they think there is an invisible force field in the door frame that stops sound from entering my office. Or, they think I am deaf, but I am not the deaf teacher. Or, maybe they don’t care what I hear. No matter the case, I hear a lot.

From my office, I have heard relationships fall apart – either in person or by phone. Several years ago, one older student had a profanity-laced screaming match with her boyfriend. I have also heard people talk about how terrible their relationships are. The whole time I am thinking that if you don’t know how to get out of a bad relationship now, then you have a tough row to hoe.

I have also heard complaints about teachers, coaches and other figures of authority. Admittedly, this surprises me the most. After all, I am a member of the group that they are talking about. This teacher isn’t fair. That teachers sucks. My coach is an idiot, and the other coaches laugh at him. It goes on and on. And, guess what. They also talk about ME! Outside of my office! While I am sitting there!

That’s serious stuff. When people are caught in bad relationships and discuss the faults of their teachers, they are hitting topics that are important. However, a lot of times it gets comical. I have heard about the plans for huge parties and about parties that have already happened. I have heard students laugh, joke and reveal the fun aspects of college. They talk about movies, music and other topics that are important to them. Honestly, it helps me keep up to date and be able to talk to them about things they consider important.

When they put the blue chairs outside my office door, I was not very happy. I thought it was going to break down the walls of my fortress of solitude. I was right, but I am glad that it happened. I have access to information that tunes me into the psyche of our students and provides me with information on the happenings of campus. This is valuable information that I can use to relate better with the students and, hopefully, educate them better. It will also help me when I take over the world. Every good leader should know the hearts and souls of his people.

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Let’s Talk About Stress

30 Apr

I had an interesting conversation today about the stressfulness of our daily lives and how people handle said stressfulness. (Spell check tells me stressfulness is not a word, but I’m not going to stress about it.) Do they buckle under? Do they ignore it? Do they laugh it off? Are there some people who have no stress at all and float through life like the balloons I saw some kids releasing yesterday? There is no doubt that some people have more stress than others, and some people handle it better than others. However, stress is something that humans can’t escape and probably never have. Often, my dad and his friends talk about “the good old days”. As a historian, I don’t think they ever existed. There are many reasons for that, but one of them is stress. It’s part of our existence.

This is exam week on campus, and stress is everywhere. Students are stressed over taking the tests, and faculty members are stressed over grading them and getting the rest of our end-of-semester chores done. People will be freaking out internally all over the place. However, I bet that each of them has a way of dealing with it. Here are a few of mine.

1. I listen to music. Today’s conversation went into the musical realm when we all agreed that music soothes the savage brain. At the moment, I am listening to Carol Sloane sing “Sweet and Slow”.

2. I blog. I never realized how putting my thoughts on a computer screen could relieve stress, but it’s like storing my ideas in a different place, so I can free my brain-space for more information.

3. I go to the movies. When I am super stressed, nothing brings me off the ledge better than going to a matinée and sitting in the dark. It really doesn’t matter what the movie is. The point is escaping from the world for a couple of hours.

4. I sleep. What better way to get away from the difficulties of life than to enter the dream world for a while? I like the ideas of some Native American tribes that believed the dream world was the real one. Hey, this gives me an idea for another post. Wait, I don’t want to stress about that post, so I will move on with this one.

5. I go for a drive. Another great form of relaxation is getting in the car and hitting the road. Hitting a road where speed can be dramatically increased makes it even better.

6. I pretend like I am a carefree person. Actually, this is an ongoing thing and causes stress unto itself. I give the impression to those around me that I let nothing bother me. They probably think, “Man, I wish I could be stressless like him.” (I know. Stressless isn’t a word, either.) In reality, I have stress too.

I reckon stress is relative and a matter of perspective, but all of us have it. Some of us think ours is worse than that of others. Everyone has it, and, hopefully, everyone can deal with it in a healthy way.

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Death by Meeting

11 Apr

I was going to do a little blogging last night, but after sitting in a two-hour meeting listening to my brain cells scream as they jumped to their deaths, I decided that it just wasn’t in me to put fingers to keyboard. On top of that, I had to watch the season finale of Justified, the third greatest show in television history. As you can tell by the title, this post isn’t about the show. It is about the meeting that I had to sit through.

Before my rant, I must say that the people on the committee are good folks. They volunteer their time to help the community, and I commend them for it. I am more of a big idea guy who likes to think stuff up and back away to let someone else do the work. However, there are times when people get focused on the details and forget the big picture. Last night’s meeting was about details and went something like this.

Minutes – You know when people take the time to read the minutes of the last meeting word-for-word that it is going to be along night. Needless to say, we talked about the minutes for a while.

Sunshine Report – This is where announcements are made about people being sick or having other troubles. This is a nice thing to do I suppose. I’m not sure why it is in the regular meeting because these things can be talked about after. But, it was fine except for the lady who talked about her own problems. She is going into the hospital next week and needs our prayers. Something about that makes me feel weird. I’m not sure people should announce their own problems.

Committee Reports – This didn’t take long at all. We talked about buying some heaters for a few minutes. This despite the fact that there is no money. How do I know this? Because the treasurer didn’t show up for the Treasurer’s Report that was supposed to come before the Sunshine Report.

(Oh, I should tell you that the committee oversees a historic village in my town. It’s not really historic because old buildings have been moved there, and new ones that look old have been added to it. I’ve tried to tell them it’s not really historic, but I am only a history professor and really don’t know what I am talking about.)

Controversy arose during this part because of a scheduling conflict. There is a free event and a pay event Saturday. The guy in charge of the pay event was concerned that free people might get in. The chairwoman of the committee got really upset and said the free event has been planned for a year, and the pay event needs to work with it. This is a good time to remind you that we have no money.

Next, the pay event guy talked about his big project – live online streaming of country music from our site. It sounds good, but I don’t trust him. He’s from Australia, but each time he talks I think of the word carpetbagger. He has been talking about this for a year without anything happening. There always seems to be an excuse.

Also, we are building the world’s largest dinner triangle – you know, a thing that people rang on farms to tell field hands that food was ready. It looks like this.

Except, ours is going to be 10 feet on each side.

After this announcement, it was time to talk about acquiring more buildings. Remember, we have no money, so adding buildings is a good idea. Old buildings are expensive to keep up but adding some more shouldn’t be a problem.

One good idea came out of this part of the meeting. We are going to inventory our possessions. I was going to suggest some ways to protect our artifacts, but that’s really not the point I reckon.

Once the committee reports were completed, we moved to Future Projects. They are working on a 25th Anniversary book and want to copy Foxfire. I hope they don’t plagiarise.

Of course, we also talked about the upcoming county fair. We have the largest one in Tennessee don’t you know. Very impressive indeed.

Finally, we got to Unfinished Business, and a local producer of commemorative knives presented the idea of us buying some. We could put our name on the blade and sell them. Unfortunately, buying the knives will cost $16,500, and we have a lot of commemorative stuff that’s been lying around for years. I wonder how much building maintenance we could do for $16,500.

That;s it for the meeting, but I have one more pet peeve. People involved in this village address each other in a strange way. They call people Mr. Joe or Miss Jane – mixing prefix titles with first names. I’m not sure it’s bad, but I think it’s weird.

That was my meeting. When it was over, I was thinking it would have been better to be in a shootout with Raylan or Boyd. You’re probably thinking that also would have been better than reading this post.

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Looking It Up

3 Apr

The ladies at Book Snobbery have developed a great posting idea by turning their search terms and the search terms of others into haiku that are cleverly written and make me laugh every time. Knowing that I am nowhere near as witty as them, there is no way that I would be a copycat and try the same thing. However, their ingenuity has inspired me to look into my search terms and see how people get to my blog. Some are straightforward; some are funny; and I am thankful for each one of them.

Here are a few of my favorites from the most searched to the least.

ufo crash in town – I wonder what town they live in.

sandhal bergman bondage – This scene was not in Conan the Barbarian, but I wish it was. I bet Ahnold does too.

dylan “leaving for the coast” – Did he go with the sixteen vestal virgins? And, if he did could they understand what he was saying?

elvis presley childhood interests – They included playing guitar and eating fried peanut butter and banana sandwiches.

cracker barrel artifact painting with muslim woman – Cracker Barrel was founded in my hometown, so I know they have had accusations of being prejudiced. Therefore, I can’t imagine anything there with a muslim woman.

spring semester starts tomorrow and my books aren’t in – Was this a student or a teacher? Either way, I hope they made it work.

when can i find the hangover slot machine in tunica – Right now. I lost a few bills trying to become a member of the wolf pack of one.

american revolution prostitution – George Washington slept here, and so did everyone else.

True story. I was pushed into giving a lecture to the Daughters of the American Revolution about prostitution during the American Revolution. It was me lecturing about sex in front of a bunch of blue-haired ladies. To soften the topic, I used words like camp followers. As I talked, the following conversation took place.

Old Lady in the Back – What’s he talking about?

The Other Old Lady in the Back – He’s talking about camp followers.

OLitB -What?

TOOLitB – Camp followers.

OLitB – What?

TOOLitB – He’s talking about whores.

OLitB- Oh, I understand now.

does everyone wear a cowboy hat in nashville – NO

salma hayek “she kills” – A professional assassin, she also acts a little on the side.

day spa bug problems – I suggest you go to a spa that is not next to a truck stop.

electrawoman vampire – Bram Stoker meets Sid and Marty Krofft.

billy joe mccallister moustache bridge – I wish I had this when I wrote the post about misheard lyrics. Apparently, he threw his electric razor off the bridge. Mystery solved.

vampire winona ryder – She can bite my neck anytime.

acdc dirty deek and the dondo chief – Did someone really hear this? If they did, then did they sing it out loud?

did albert einstein like cheese? – Actually, he was eating string cheese when he developed string theory. Good thing he wasn’t eating squeeze cheese.

has natalie merchant had sex with women – I am not sure, but I will ask her when I see her. Or, maybe I should get a woman to ask.

that you are in fact surrounded by imbeciles – Now, you have come to the right place.

I will be away from the blog for a few days. I hope everyone has a good rest of the week

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