An Open Letter to Michelle Obama

 

....especially when you are falling out of coconut trees.

Some disturbing, wierd, and downright goofy signposts Joe Bob Briggs' magazine, "Wittenburg Door", sees tongue-in-cheek as pointing towards the endtimes:

http://www.wittenburgdoor.com/content/signs-end-times

Examples:

America’s No. 1 source of imported oil is Canada (more than all the nations of the Persian Gulf combined).

“I said to myself, ‘I love him, but I love me more.’”
—Televangelist Juanita Bynum, explaining on Divorce Court why she had to leave her husband

Symphony orchestras in Germany, France, Italy and England are being forced to cancel performances because fortissimo passages in certain works violate European Union noise-at-work laws, and professional musicians can’t wear ear plugs without losing their ability to play their instruments.

 

...but I have no idea what anyone is singing/saying in it.

You, too, can come up with brilliant tv show pitches like this one:

 A storm chaser who's really a ghost finds he is related to a ballet dancer who can see the future. Stars Vanilla Ice and Rick Springfield. Genre: Drama

 Just go to the TV Show Pitch Generator and click the purple button to create your own proposal for the next Emmy winner.

She has her own statue now!  

Sort of bare right now, but http://kooladeforall.blogspot.com is the url, if you want to check it out.   

 

How many times has this happened to you: 

Well, the actual coldwarbabyproject is definitely further ahead in my head than in the real world.  But that may be true of all projects.

My ever-faithful $100 Sony 6 CD changer finally bit the dust last year. 

From the current read, "Khruschev's Cold War: The Inside Story of an American Adversary" by Aleksandr Fursenko (the ex-Soviet half of the team) and Timothy Naftali (the western half of the team):

All Sputnik did was fly, and beep.

Sputnik's beep



There were rumors that the beeps represented encoded messages to KGB spies, or something like that, but they didn't.  They were just beeps. 

Mea Culpa! Mea Culpa!

Of course, no one would disagree that William F. Buckley, Jr. lived a good long life, and may have mellowed out a little tooooo much in the end.  The old conservative warhorse, whom I first became interested as more than someone to jeer at (during my contra-contra feminist communist-curious leftist years) when I learned he was a worthy champion AGAINST the War Against Drugs

I really love the idea of lots and lots of userpics in this LJ.  My other LJ is a fanblog, and, as such, I can post pictures with immunity in posts, but there's not much of a cause to do that.  On the other hand, there are so many cultural icons of the Cold War, both Western and Soviet, that I would just love adorning this or that item in this blog.  Baryshnikov.  Cheburashka.  The original Saturday Night Live cast.  Each individual Soviet leader and US president from 1945 to the present.  And, of course, the odd culturally relevant picture of coldwarbaby and the coldwarfamily growing up in cozy ColdWarVille, USA.  

But to do have that many pictures, LJ says I must pay.  To my estimation, there is nothing I would gain with a paid account except the privilege of more userpics.  I'm not storing a lot of pictures on this blogs scrapbook; I'm not using voiceposts; there's really not much different between the free "plus" account and the next one up.  Hmm.  Decisions, decisions.

BTW, I don't know how clearly this userpic comes through.  It's one of my favorites, definitely.  It is President Kennedy working, or trying to, in the Oval Office, with John Kennedy, Jr., playing under the desk. 

In college, totally imprinting on my preppy RA, I began collecting anything to do with cute little piggies.  My family and friends obliged me every Christmas and birthday since .  My family would occasionally asks me, "Are you done with pigs?  Should we get something else?"  And I would think about it and think, no, I like the pigs, keep 'em coming...they're so counterintuitively cute.  

But I have a new need to fill.  Last night, I rewarded myself for FINALLY cleaning my refrigerator for the "Movie Lines" magnetic poetry.  

I haven't made up crazy movie lines, I just had fun pulling  them all apart and putting them together in various places on the fridge.  "A boy's best friend is his mother."  "I just shot an elephant in my pajamas.  How he'll get in my pajamas, I'll never know."  "I love the smell of napalm in the morning."  "They call it a Royale with cheese." "May the force be with you." etc, etc.  

But it still doesn't look right.  My fridge is almond colored, and all the poetry lines are white.  I have about four other magnets on my fridge as well as a birth announcement from my friends V & V's kid and a picture  of my nephews.   (You see what's coming next.)  I've decided to adopt refrigerator magnets as my new collectible hobby.  Especially ones of movie stars and movie scenes.   

I collect US presidential campaign buttons and Soviet medals, but that is a pricey e-Bay kind of hobby that I handle myself.  Refrigerator magnets, I figure, come up just about everywhere.  So if anyone feels the urge to do me a random act of kindness or celebrate me in some fashion, a refrigerator magnet would be a good way to do it.  And if anyone wants to be mean to me, taking one of the few I have would be a good way to do that. 

 

First the VQU:  Just got back from the ER.  Not the one I work at; in fact, I didn't go to work.  I was minding my own business today, trying to get rid of a perfectly mild migraine .... my first in a month, again, contributing to my theory that now that I have them relatively under control they're just going to come on a particular day of the month.  It should have gone away with one baby aspirin.  ( 1976 Weekend Update Clip ahead.. )