Diamonds in the Dogshit

Before I get to work (my procrastination instincts are acting up), I thought in honor of my 96th post (er, make that 97) I'd dig through this steaming pile of shit and see if I could find at least a couple of earlier posts I thought were perhaps mildly amusing. It's all subjective of course. What isn't subjective is the fact that most of this blog is crap and some of the better bits get lost in the morass. So, in keeping with my odd milestone numbering choices, my personal top 7 in terms of self-amusement (and in no particular order):

• Rod Blagojevich Depends Diapers for the working professional
• Musing on Manson, Dr. G and the Washington Huskies
  
• Healthcare Satire
• Sarah In the Sky with Diamonds, our Queen of the Yukon meets TJ Kirk
  
• Michael Jackson as the New Timothy Leary
• Infomercial Gang on a Coke Bing
• Fear and Loathing on the Autopsy Table

'No future for you' - J. Lydon, 1977

Mad Men marathon! Ah, but it's just the 3rd season stuff.  Dr. G marathon! It's Sunday - what's new?  I'm torn between watching these and the Eagles game (the latter only in anticipation of someone taking a cheap shot at Michael Vick and rooting on Kansas City - thus far it's not working in my favor).  
The thought of these choices is depressing on a level I didn't think possible.

Miserable rain, a goddamn cold - I already had the flu over the summer for crying out loud - and here comes another fucking Charles Schwab commercial to further rattle my brain. Why didn't 'Chuck' go under with the financial industry collapse? A clear sign there is no God; if there is, he's surely a sadist. 

I think it's time to get it over with: pass me the Plum Smart flavored Activia, cover me with a Snuggie and hand me the number of a good nursing home (time to check myself in).  That or hit me upside the head with a wet sock full of dogshit. Whichever is easier.  Is there some irony in the fact that I have the TV sound off and the Sex Pistols on the stereo?  Probably not irony, just a bit of pathetic sadness. Meanwhile, somewhere in the world, John Lydon's prostate is acting up and the self proclaimed anti-christ is cleaning his dentures in a glass while watching a Madlock marathon.  Or maybe he's enjoying Dr. G like me.

Back in the real world, apparently our long national nightmare may finally be over as I see the crafty Swiss have snared international super villain Roman Polanski in a 'career retrospective film festival' sting.  He fell for that old chestnut?  I recall it failing miserably when the CIA tried it with Bin Laden a couple years back:
"The Tora Bora Terrorism Follies featuring the works of Osama and the Not-Ready-for-72-Virgins Players" was quite an embarrassment to the boys in Langley when only Momar, Oliver Stone and then-Senator Obama bothered to show up, though Bin Laden did send Glenn Beck to accept the lifetime achievement award on his behalf. (Who would have thunk that last one? I would have.)

BTW, the CIA really shouldn't have advertised a 'Saturday mini-retrospective on Kenyan Terrorist Romantic Comedies' for this 'festival' if they wanted to keep the audience clear of American officials for a clean bust (they had to have known of Barack's Muslim Socialist Fascist Kenyan inclinations).  However, that Obama not only attended but kept breaking out into Arsenio Hall "Woof Woof" gestures during the Kenyan flicks should have at least raised a red flag with regard to the nefarious intentions of our future dear leader. That'll teach the CIA: now they have to translate the daily presidential briefings into Swahili and soon all agents not otherwise in the field will have to attend the four week government-grade medical school and do double duty as federal healthcare physicians.

Tonight is a busy evening for tube watching, what with 60 Minutes, Dexter and Californication kicking off new seasons + Curb and Mad Men.  Thank god for DVRs.

Now I need to stop typing garbage into this infernal blog and start studying (the alarm went off a month or so ago on what seems to be a recurring every-two-years new job itch and I'm in serious talks with a couple doctors who can treat this outbreak for me but only if I prepare).

[Postscript: The Sex Pistols gave way to Groovelily on the stereo and Dr. G/Mad Men/Football gave way to the Wizard of Oz (all the other shows will just have to cool their heels in my DVR until I finish this journey down the yellow brick road).  I haven't taken this trip for a long, long time.  It was my very favorite movie as a young boy and perhaps the most anticipated television day of the year for me when they replayed it annually on ... well, whichever one of the three networks that had the rights - I could google it if I wasn't so lazy.  Oz was, to me as a kid, a world apart from the shitty one I was living in.  

Little did I know Judy Garland's life was hell and she had already long since undertaken a daily regiment of booze, pills and tobacco that would have put Janis Joplin and Billy Holiday to shame by the time she filmed Oz at age 17.  Still, that knowledge doesn't hurt the movie one lick; in fact, it adds some poignancy to the mix.]

'Sunday's best, Sunday's finest. When your money's in the minus.' - Declan MacManus, 1979

I must admit I'm pretty pumped for the new Curb Your Enthusiasm kicking off tonight. Sunday evening is most definitely the cable "must see TV" night (has been for a while now for a lot of folks).

My past love affairs with the Sopranos and Six Feet Under cemented the night for me personally. Add in the Simpsons (at least through the 90s), Family Guy today, and Sixty Minutes since time began. That all makes for a tough act to follow.

For others, it's also the night of True Blood and Entourage. I didn't get into either show, though I admire both. For Blood, maybe it's a genre thing. Other than Lost Boys, I've never been much into vampire lore, though it's obviously in vogue what with the HBO show and the Twilight flick. For Entourage, I like the cast and the premise, but just couldn't get up for it. Dunno why.

For me now, Curb and Mad Men represent two of my top four currently running TV series (30 Rock and Weeds round out this holy quartet). I also dig Dexter, another Sunday night staple, and am looking forward to new stuff there coming soon.  As an aside, I'm going to give the new Bored to Death a spin. It's on HBO right after Curb and I'm lazy - also it looks like it might be pretty funny.

But Larry David, with his Seinfeld "reunion" the central conceit looming in the season ahead, and the continuing trials and tribulations of the gang at Sterling Cooper, as they flaunt their dashing brand of sixties cool, will keep my Sunday evenings percolating for the next little while for sure.

I only wish I could say as much for the remainder of the week.  Speaking of which, I'll likely be slowing down my production of swill here as I take a plunge back into the deep end of the asylum swimming pool at work tomorrow. It's usually mad this time of year for our kind  (retail-centric e-commerce providers).  Lots of features to get ready in time for the holiday season ahead. 

I'd been mostly wading in the kiddie pool this summer, deliberately trying to keep to the shallows and careful to take my Clozapine. Well, that time has past, school's back in session and my pills have been flushed down the drain. In other words, hand me a snorkel and flippers and make way for a big fuckin' splash into the deep, dark world of corporate IT insanity!

Seriously, I still plan to put the brakes on any blatantly excessive workaholic behavior, but some things are easier said than done.