I first saw Eddie Izzard at the Gilded Balloon at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival in 95… we had a crazy political jazz play upstairs and he was killing it in the “big room” downstairs. I was traveling with the only black people at the Fringe, and somehow this got us some drinks with Eddie after a set. I remember none of it, only putting it together when I saw his show on HBO one night. And then, then I was a complete convert.
This year we saw him work on material late one night in Hollywood. Three hours of non-stop, erudite gutter humor including a long thing entirely in Latin. He’s beyond anything I’ve ever experienced. Go see this. Do it now.
Relevance of Ferris Beuller To High School Students Over Time
Drive safely, fight fair and have fun.
(this post originated on my other blog: Everybody Dies, You Don’t Have to be an Asshole)
In late September we’re scattering my mom’s ashes. We’ve decided to go to Big Sur, to Nepenthe, which she loved. All that is a-okay. Right? I mean, family is going to get together, we’ll be maudlin as we probably should be, it’s a one year anniversary, and then we’ll scatter ashes… into the sea… which is both illegal and well…
This is what we all fear. I mean, let’s just get fucking real about it, right? Right now I have this box of heavy heavy ashes and since I have a little extra from getting our memorial rings made, I know what it looks like in there and it is freaky and not at all subtle. Bone. I have bone in my house.
So now we have to figure out how to get my mom’s ashes scattered in a way that doesn’t end in Lebowski. Which is how I ended up having three of the oddest conversations of my life with three different “Captains” of three different vessels (one sea, two air) about the scattering. How to do it. Where to do it. How I broke a federal law by having the cremains UPSed to me. How much it would cost. How maybe putting “notarized” and “scattering” in quotes on your website make it seem like you are just alluding to these words and not actually performing them. Like “I’m ’scattering’ the ashes” really means “I’m dumping them into the dumpster behind Roscoe’s Chicken and Waffles and then using the box to store my collection of vintage porn postcards.” That kind of thing. This is what I think about when you use quotes. I think about your plane and how it is used for dead people and your boat and the same thing and how we have to go deal with family and how I really just want to walk out into the ocean, on a grey September day and cast my mom’s ashes on the water and say a quiet little prayer for her and how because I don’t rule the world, that is basically impossible.
Also I think about Lebowski.
Two producers acquired the film rights to Iceberg Slim, nee Robert Beck’s epic autobiography “Pimp.”
IMDB posts it with a photo of Beck.
One of the saddest, noblest, most profoundly upsetting articles I’ve read in a long time. No matter where you stand in the fight for reproductive freedom, you need to read this. I don’t know how you can stand against those of us who believe in choice, when you get to the end of this article. I don’t know how you can be anti-choice and still believe that you know more than this doctor and these incredible women.
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…we think you’re crazy for making us write an essay telling you who we think we are. You see us as you want to see us: in the simplest terms, in the most convenient definitions. But what we found out is that each one of us is a brain, and an athlete, and a basket case, a princess, and a criminal. Does that answer your question? Sincerely yours, The Breakfast Club.
What could be better than some snarky blogging? Snarky gay smarties snarking on the best pics I’ve seen.
Go. Now.
