Why Is It ...

… that people need to remember that I don't think I’m right all the time, but I am and that’s why it comes off that way

… that I may be laid back but I lean forward very quickly

… that people don’t understand that when I say I feel like Barbie, I mean that my hip is making that clicking sound

… that when it comes to a text chat I am either fast Replier or Never Answer

… that this snippet of advice always gets me in trouble because I say, whenever you get angry at someone bite them; just bite them and walk away. I guarantee they’ll never speak to you again

… that no one realizes that my ability to find the comedy in every crisis is a sign of deep inner peace or a warning that my last marble has officially left the building

… that when people ask what kinds of music I like all I can say is it’s every song except the ones I don’t like.

… that some days my brain is a powerful machine and other days it’s just two racoons fighting in a garbage can.

… that the new girl at work wanted to chat and chat and chat and I finally said, “Let’s skip the talking stage and you can go right to blocking me.”

… that I just learned that therapy is like some stranger walking around my brain and saying, “This is how you live?”

Why Is It ...

… that no one believes that I have no skeletons in my closet I do have a tiny box of souls in my underwear drawer.

… that nothing pisses me off more than pulling up to my job and finding the building still standing.

… that just because I like to walk around in my underwear, eating Doritos, does not make me strange and the people in Aisle Four need to get a life.

… that I often feel the need to tell people they should go to church because I don’t want them in Hell with me

… that more people don’t ask for my opinion. I mean, like the other day I said to a coworker, ‘Relax, you aren’t the dumbest person in the world but you better hope he doesn’t die.’

… that I often tell songs to “Shut up” before I skip them.

… that once I’m in bed and I turn over on my stomach and make that 4-shape with my legs it’s a wrap

.… that my idea of help is a sniper on the roof.

… that if I died and went straight to Hell it would probably take weeks to realize I wasn’t at work anymore.

… that every time I try to donate blood I always get the same stupid questions: Who’s blood is it? Where did you get it? Why is it in a bucket?

Why Is It ...

… that when people say, “You look so familiar,” responding with “Were we in prison together” always stops the conversation.

… that you can say “Have a nice day” and it’s no problem, but saying ”Enjoy your next twenty-four hours” sounds vaguely threatening.

… that HR doesn’t understand that when I tell my coworkers I have handmade gifts for each of them, and then gave them the finger, that it comes from my heart.

… that people don’t see that my problem is that I am both mature and childish ... I’m mildish.

… that my boss got angry when he told me to have a good day and I went home.

… that I wish my life had background music so I’d know if I was in a drama, a comedy or a full-blown horror film.

… that my boss doesn’t see that I am not late, I am just running on Boss Time.

… that coworkers don’t realize that when I say “Noted,” what I really mean is “Leave me alone.”

… that y’all need to realize that I am not ignoring you, I have just put myself on Silent Mode for people.

… that I have this constant urge to write “Nobody gives a fuck” on everyone’s social media status.

Why Is It ...

… that no one is surprised that I am stepping down from my position as an adult. It turns out that it wasn’t for me, but I appreciate the opportunity.

… that people don’t realize that I’m a nice person until they hit the Bitch Button.

… that when someone asks if I ever think before I post something nasty, I always say, ‘Yeah, and I even laugh and kick my feet a little.’

… that I sometimes feel as if my life is being written by someone who isn’t sure they like me.

… that when someone asks me if I’m an early bird or a night owl I tell them I’m more of a tired afternoon duck.

… that while friends bring you happiness, best friends bring you tequila.

… that I sometimes think I might be the only person that pauses the music to see if the siren is in the song or behind me.

… that no one appreciates it when I give away free samples of my attitude.

… that nearly every morning I wish for someone to go into work for me; just walk in and act like me, no one will notice.

… that my friends keep forgetting that if we are in a non-laughing situation, they should not be looking at me.

Repost: Black History Month: Billie Holiday

The facts of Billie Holiday's early life are uncertain. The facts of her life, however, are not. Billie was an icon, a prostitute, a drug addict, a nightclub singer, a desperate figure; she was also one of the first African American singers to appeal to both Black and white audiences.

She was born Eleanora Fagan, maybe in Baltimore; maybe not. Her mother, Sadie Fagan, may have been just thirteen, and her father Clarence Holiday, may have been just fifteen. And they may or may not have ever married.

But Clarence Holiday, did play guitar and banjo professionally, and he joined jazz-band leader Fletcher Henderson in the early 1930s. So Clarence was on the road much of the time and was not conceivably a family man.

Eleanora, as Billie was known, had a delinquent adolescence,. She was sent to a reformatory at the ten, raped at eleven, and a prostitute by age twelve. In Baltimore, hoping for a new career as a singer, she assumed the first name of her favorite movie star, Billie Dove, and the last name of her father, and Billie Holiday was born.

Soon after, in 1928 or 1929, she moved to New York City with her mother, and together they struggled to make a living during the Depression. Sadie and Billie worked as domestics when they could get no other work, and whenever her father came to town, Billie would confront him, threatening to call him daddy in front of his girlfriends unless he gave her money.

In her mid-to-late teens, Billie began singing in New York clubs, and by the time she was old enough to drink legally she had established a reputation as a stirring jazz singer. Hers was a natural talent with excellent musical instincts and an earthy voice that matched the honesty of her songs.

Lover Man Oh Where Can You Be

God Bless The Child

Don't Explain

Fine and Mellow

By the age of eighteen her fans included, among many others, Benny Goodman, with whom she recorded in 1933, and record producer-promoter John Hammond, who observed that "she sang popular songs in a manner that made them completely her own." Her nickname in Harlem was "Lady," and saxophonist Lester Young, an admirer, added the appellation "Day."

She was "Lady Day," the hottest singer in Harlem before she was twenty.

Her best recordings were organized by Hammond, with pianist Teddy Wilson, and after those sessions, Hammond was devoted to promoting Holiday's career. He arranged for her to appear with the best musicians of the era, and by the end of the 30s, Billie Holiday had sung with Count Basie and his orchestra, and with the Artie Shaw Band.

But life as a big band singer was too restrictive for Billie, and in 1938 she became a solo act. In January 1939 she opened at the new Greenwich Village club Cafe Society, where she sang for nine months and introduced her classic protest against lynching, "Strange Fruit." The Cafe Society audiences were mostly white, and Billie found a whole new group of fans who hung on her every song.

Holiday was a success, but she was also living her music with disastrous effects. In August 1941 she married Jimmy Monroe, and by the time of their breakup soon afterward, she was an opium user and a heroin addict. She made over $1,000 a week in the early 40s and spent most of it on her habit; she was also at the peak of her career.

In 1943 she was voted the best jazz vocalist in the Esquire magazine readers' poll, and with that acknowledgement, Decca Records began making a series of thirty-six recordings that are regarded among the finest jazz vocals of the time.

Lover Man

Porgy

Now or Never

My Sweet Hunk of Trash, sung with Louis Armstrong.

But those Decca recordings also seemed to mark the beginning of the end of Billie's career. In 1945, she married trumpet player Joe Guy, and together they formed a band, losing much of Billie's money along the way. Business woes, her drug dependency, and chronic depression brought her career to an abrupt halt.

In 1947, Billie Holiday was arrested on a drug charge and voluntarily accepted placement in a federal drug-rehabilitation center for a year and a day. Ten days after her release she appeared before a packed house at Carnegie Hall—one of the first Black artists, and the first Black female artist to do so. But because of her drug arrest, her cabaret license had been suspended, and Billie was not allowed to play in Manhattan establishments that served alcohol.

The years of drinking and the ravages of drug addiction took their toll on her talent as well. Her voice lost its resilience, and oftentimes she would appear on stage unable to perform. She toured Europe in 1954 and appeared triumphantly at Royal Albert Hall before an audience of six thousand. But increasingly the power of her performances was attributable to the pity the audience felt for a once extraordinary talent that had destroyed itself; it was as if her music described a life too terrible to endure.

Billie’s autobiography Lady Sings the Blues reinforced that image and did not hide the embarrassments of her life, her drug addiction, the rapes, the bad marriages, the prostitution. In the mid-1950s her last marriage, to Louis McKay , fell apart and she was unable to drag herself from the world of drug abuse. By 1958 she was on her last slide downward.

Billie Holiday died on 15 July 1959 in a hospital bed where she had been under house arrest for over a month for possession of narcotics. She had $750 taped to her leg.

But before you feel sad for Billie Holiday, remember all that she did for women, and Black women; all she did to pave the way for every single female singer that came after her. And don't forget that she opened doors to a world of music and nightclubs that had once been closed to Black performers.

Hers was a remarkable talent, and a horrendous personal life, but it was all Billie Holiday and because I have loved her voice for years and years, here are some of her songs …

Repost: Black History Month: Strange Fruit

One of the first political songs ever written. It's been called a declaration of war. The beginning of the Civil Rights movement. One of the ten songs that changed the world.

Billie Holiday Strange Fruit

My Eyes Are Wet ...

 

Meme Dump

Bobservations

We all know about Carlos’ eyesight and his limited knowledge of popular, or current culture, so here’s a little tale about that.

One rainy Sunday I was curled up in a living room chair watching TV and Carlos came into the room:

“What are you watching? Will & Grace?”

‘Why that show? What makes you think it’s Will & Grace?”

“I hear a man and a woman talking and there’s laughing.”

“So any time you hear a TV show with a man and woman talking and laughing it’s Will & Grace?”

“I don’t know … “

“Why don’t you just ask, ‘What are you watching?’

This past weekend I was watching a movie and Carlos enters the room:

“What are you watching? The Terminator?”

“Why that movie?”

“I don’t know. I thought I heard a robot.”

“Why don’t you say, ‘What are you watching?’”

“What are you watching?”

“Spiral.”

“I don’t know that movie.”

“Sigh … I know.”

The man slays me.

This Tuxedo Memory is from March 2019 and is entitled ‘Lazy Weekend ...For Some of Us’

 "We spent the morning on Friday getting the taxes done and were surprised to see we were getting a rather healthy refund.

That was nice. But then, with the onset of spring, and some slightly warmer days, there were lawns to mow and hedges to trim, and a ten-foot-tall holly bush off the deck that needed to be reshaped for spring; a little help with the ladder and I was able to give Holly a haircut.

Sunday was Carlos' turn in the yard and trimming bushes and replanting a tree and weeding along the fence.

Fun times. But we did manage to squeeze in some time with Tuxedo on the deck. Our cats don't go outside because, living in a somewhat rural area, there are all kinds of things they can catch from critters that roam through our yard. Still, Tuxedo is allowed out, and on the table on the deck, but only with supervision, AKA me, and only when it's nice and sunny for him to warm his bones, and then take a breather in the sun.

Not a bad life, really, for us, and Tuxedo.”

I miss those days on the deck with my Boy and my Man.

The Felon’s campaign may talk a big game, but when faced with potential legal action from Beyoncé, they folded like the ill-fitting, makeup-stained suit of their candidate.

On Thursday, Beyoncé issued a cease and desist to The Felon’s campaign after spokesperson Steven Cheung posted a video on social media featuring DonOLD deplaning in Michigan, soundtracked to Beyoncé’s song “Freedom.”

“Freedom” is, of course, the official campaign theme song of Vice President Kamala Harris—a choice that Beyoncé personally approved, so naturally The Felon tried to steal it.

In the Sorry Not Sorry file comes news that former Representative current convicted felon George Santos’ campaign has $562 in cash on hand but also owes $786,932 in debt.

Santos faces at least two years in federal prison for identity theft and up to 20 years in prison for wire fraud.

I don’t think he can all that back even working full-time in the prison laundry.

I guess if you’re a cowboy and you’ll be riding horses all day, it helps to come equipped with the extra padding.

h/t to Voenix Rising

The man who calls himself The Felon’s Prophet, Johnny Enlow, has a very exciting announcement: a big-time celebrity is going to endorse The Felon! And even better that celebrity is … dead. Or maybe a celebrity who faked his or her death? Or a celebrity zombie?

We won’t know right away because Enlow claims he’s “not yet allowed” to reveal the name of the dead celebrity.

Dead celebrities can be hard to work with, I’m guessing.

The so-called “Catwoman,” Jocelyn Wildenstein has given the world a look at her original face. The Swiss socialite, 82, looked like a blond bombshell lounging on a couch with her daughter Diane sitting on her lap. With her hair coiffed in a wavy bob, Wildenstein appeared casual and chic while peering off into the distance.

But then she did this … and then this and Catwoman was born.

And now she looks like this … and then this after having gone through multiple face lifts, eye lifts and more.

Jocelyn’s post comes after she claimed her late ex-husband Alec Wildenstein’s family cutting her off from her $100 million annual divorce settlement payment and so now, to make a few coins to pay for any future renovations to her face, Jocelyn is making a documentary about her life and faces.

This is Uriah Harris. He’s a model, trainer, lifestyle coach, has a nice smile and a pretty body, so I ask: Would You Hit It?

Why Is It ...

… that when I asked a question at a work meeting about whether or not Kevin Bacon calls his nipples “bacon bits,” my boss asked, “How is it that I keep forgetting to fire you?”

… that I don’t think I'm not old, but I realize that I need a little WD-40 and some duct tape every so often to get through the day.

… that the adult version of ♪ ♫ Head, Shoulders, Knees and Toes ♪ ♫ is now ♪ ♫ Wallet, Glasses, Keys and Phone ♫ ♪.

… that I am jealous of people who know how to shut up. When I try to stay quiet subtitles come out of my face.

… that I get the feeling that all I want from life is to hunker down, eat pizza and watch movies, but then I also want to break new ground in my profession, or quit society and live in the woods, or go explore the world forever.

… that no one understands that will restart the entire song if you talk over my favorite part.

Why Is It ...

… that I've NEVER seen long lines of pro-lifers lining up to be foster parents.

… that unless you’re music, I kinda prefer not to listen to you?

… that sometimes my road rage is so bad that I wish I could Bluetooth into someone’s car and cuss them out through their speakers.

… that they still call it a “vacation request” when it’s more of a “vacation awareness” because I’m not requesting anything, I’m making you aware that I won’t be in this week.

… that even though I keep my mouth shut, sometimes, you can read the subtitles on my face.

… that nothing seems to last longer than a video someone is showing you that you have no interest in.

… that back when I was trying to find the Yee to my Haw, all I could find was the Hell to my Naw.

… that I don’t always tolerate stupid people but when I do I’m probably at work.

… that self-discipline is so hard? Is it because I’m the boss of me and I run a really loose ship?

… that HR says I’m no longer allowed to answer the phone with, “For fuck’s sake, what now?”

Bobservations

A new Mexican restaurant opened in town and Carlos I decided to give it a go even though there are already three Mexican restaurants nearby that we love. But … the Reposado Margarita, made with a splash of Tamarind Juice was spectacular—so good that I will be stocking the juice at Casa Bob y Carlos permanently—and the food was also delicioso. Better still, our server Marcus was a hot nugget with an ass you could bounce a quarter off of … though I didn’t try.

Best part of the evening? Dessert; Carlos has a major sweet tooth—I told Marcus he was a dessert head—and usually orders dessert and I take a bite and then I’m done. But a mistake was made in the kitchen and we ended up with two different desserts and I took a bite of each and watched as Carlos polished them both off. Marcus came back to the table, where both desserts were finished off, the dirty plates sitting in front of Carlos, and said:

“Wow. You really are a dessert head.”

And that’s Carlos’ reputation in Camden continues to spread. And he’s good with that.

This week’s Tuxedo Memory comes from February 2012

“Tennessee Tuesday: Tuxedo Is Not At All Pleased With You

He loves 'Modern Family'. He has two daddies, too.”

For the record, back in 2012, Modern Family was dragged into Tennessee’s ‘Don’t Say Gay’ bill when GOP asshat state Senator Stacey Campbell declared the TV comedy a bad influence for kids because it featured two gay dads.

And that sent Tuxedo into politics.

Goddess I adore Pink, and now I have another reason for doing so.

She has teamed with free-speech advocates PEN America and Books & Books, a bookseller founded in 1982 , to distribute 2,000 copies of four books that have been banned by various public schools.

Read the banned books.

Roof EZ, a Florida roofing company, owned by Jason Pollym has started the 'Roof and Gobble' promotion, giving away a turkey and an AR-15 to anyone who buys a roof. Gun nut Jason Polly says:

“Everybody should have an AR-15. Everybody should have the means to protect their homes and their family. It’s not really catered to anybody, any state, any political view, anything like that. It’s all about safety.”

Sure, asshat. It’s strictly catered to Gun Nuts, Republicans and MAGAts.

After Lauren Boebert helped get Marjorie Taylor Greene kicked out of the House Freedom Caucus, Greene started channeling her inner mean girl to pay back her frenemy by calling her a whore after Bobo’s crotch-groping night at the theater.

Yes, the woman whose husband divorced her after she had an affair with a gym owner, and maybe the gym owner’s friend and may even another guy, is tossing around the word “whore.”

Look in the mirror, Marge, if you dare.

Thirty-five years after Tracy Chapman’s iconic track 'Fast Car' was released, the singer-songwriter became the first Black artist to win Song of the Year at the Country Music Awards; Luke Combs also won the CMA for Single of the Year for his cover of the song. While Chapman wasn’t present at the CMAs, presenter Sara Evans read a prepared statement from the musician:

“There is this genuineness and pure authenticity in folk music. I’m sorry I couldn’t join you all tonight. It’s truly an honor for my song to be newly recognized after 35 years after its debut. Thank you to the CMAs and a special thanks to Luke and all of the fans of ‘Fast Car.’”

Congrats to Tracy on this honor.

PS I like her version better.

Last week the Final Jeopardy category one night was “The Catholic Church” and as I like to do I began shouting the answers before even hearing the question:

"Who are Nazi sympathizers? Who cares more about money than the poor and the unfed? Who are pedophile priests? Who denied eyewitness reports of mass executions during the Holocaust? Who did the church burn at the cross for dressing like a man? Who absolved sins for cash payments, including sins that hadn’t yet been committed?"

The answer was: 

"The 1456 posthumous annulments of this woman’s sentence by the church was witnessed by her mother Isabelle?"

And the answer was: 

"Joan of Arc."

I was close.

This is Spanish model Sergi Salamanca who looks good in jeans and briefs and jocks and suds and especially without pants, but … Would You Hit It?

Why Is It ...

… that when I say I hate drama, I mean I hate being involved in drama. Other people’s drama? One ticket for the front row, please.

… that Beyoncé fans scramble to pay hundreds and hundreds of dollars to watch her flip her hair and shake her ass, and are now being told by this tired ass Queen Bey that they need to wear “silver fashions” to her “Renaissance” world tour? Bitch, you buy me the silver outfit and maybe I’ll see you parade in front of the wind machine … maybe.

… that the work me, the outside me, and the home me are three entirely different people? We don’t even look the same.

… that I’m never sure if I actually have free time or if I’m just forgetting everything I’m supposed to be doing?

… that I wake up in the morning thinking everything’s gonna be okay and then I step outside and there are people … everywhere?

…… that when I’m hungry nothing is funny, and everyone is ugly?

... that some people are shocked that a 300 pound man who claims to weigh 215 pounds would  overstate his net worth by $2 billion?

… that Taylor Swift could perform in my bathroom and I sill wouldn’t attend? That’s a rhetorical question, clearly.

… that I put my music on shuffle, but then get pissed off when it doesn’t paly what I want to hear?

This

 

Fiachra: Hot and Talented

This is Fiachra, AKA Dr. Fiachra Ó Corragáin, a composer, multi-instrumentalist, singer, music producer, dancer, researcher, and content creator.

Fiachra studied Music and Irish in University College Cork and achieved a double first-class honors degree with final results that were in the top five highest marks in Music ever awarded by the university. At just twenty-one, he began his PhD studies in composition in the School of Music and Theatre in University College Cork, specializing in composing music for dance and narrative musical composition.  In 2016, he was conferred with a PhD in composition as the youngest doctoral music graduate in UCC’s history.  

In 2018, Fiachra was commissioned to compose and perform Planxty Prince Charles in honor of the visit of Prince Charles to Cork.  Fiachra has composed numerous commemorative ‘planxty’ compositions—Irish melodies for the harp—enlivening the traditions of historical Irish harper composers such as Turlough O’Carolan. He has composed and produced music for stage and screen, including the Canadian short film Sídhe, and dance productions.

So amazingly talented, and so amazingly adorable. I like his big harp; I had no idea harpists had such nice asses. I also like his big ax, and was thinking he could be my yard boy and serenade me whilst doing so.