Bama Llama

Granted, but I spent three years at the Institute on South Main in Houston, which didn't hurt. Contra: I was admitted to that Institute with a Bama public school ejamacation. :-B

And thus came to pass the Ides of March minus one: yesterday’s NYT wordle. God help us all.

Smokey is creeping Debo’s bedroom, moving ever closer to the sleeping giant. Then Debo snuffles. One microsecond later, all you see is curtains gently blowing in the breeze.

Cosi - 1996 Australia // Toni Collette jewel re an out of work guy taking a job as social counselor at a mental hospital, ends up directing Mozart opera Cosi fan Tutti. Rewatched on Amazon Prime after 27 years with Mama Llama and dottir Llama. All enjoyed much much. Waiting for Guffan meets One Flew Over Cuckoos Nest. Toni is delightful, as are many of the loonies. Rachel Gfiffiths and Ben Mendelsohn also in it and other Oz actors you’ll recognize. Well dond feel good story without being sappy or formulaic. Nice change of pace from CGI overdosing. Downside - it’s rent or buy.

Send em all home. Cancel season. Fuck me.

I always liked the French film Nikita, kind of an unexpected action surprise good film, a la The Professional. Luc Besson oui oui. 2 for 2

I’d like to see the Cohens or someone crazy with plenty of guts and money try to put Cormac McCarthy’s Blood Meridian in film. Oooh, baby. That would separate the men (and women, children and animals) from the soon to be corpses. Post Civil War Southwest Semi Zombie Apocalypse. The Judge and his crew would soon make you forget about Anton Chigurh.

Youuuuuu BETCHA Talk about a come hither look Come hither and thither and yonder and over, under, sideways down. Take it away. Mr. Clatner:

This, I sincerely hope.

This will be our fifth new OC in seven years. It's like starting from scratch every year. According to AL.com, one of the names in the hat is Dan Mullen. I always thought he was a damn good OC and QB whisperer, not so much head man. Watching the Gators shit the bed vs UGA last few years does not inspire confidence, though. Horns, Tennessee and LSU coming to Tuscaloosa this fall. It shall be interesting.

Maybe he’ll be the one who achieves communication from the World of Coming Attractions. That’d be just like him. Hope it happens in the middle of a big pharma ad. “Almost . . . (perfect pause) . . . cut my haiiiyyyairrrrrr . . .” I ‘spect he wouldn’t really want to rest in peace, so dear Mr. Crosby, whom I never met but whose musical collaborations helped get me through high school, college, wimmens, psilly this, lysergic that, shakeups and breakups, saludos monfrere, you had that swing and je ne sais quoi. Rock on, motherfucker, a Sixties Soul for Eternity.

Jesus, what a fucking shame. When did people stop using their minds? Why don’t they think? Why don’t they fucking care about human life?

Current PBP and Color: Klatt ++++ Blackledge ++++ Fowler +++ Nessler +++ Gus ++ Tessatore ++ Herbstreit + McElroy + Danielson - Brando - - I don’t have enough recent years screen time with any others. I liked Keith Jackson and Frank Broyles on ABC college games. MNF was okay for a time. I was watching when Cosell reported John Lennon’s death - he handled it like a professional. Awful shit there. Chris Schenkel was my least favorite of that era. He always seemed elated at PATs. There’s the snap, it’s placed down . . . And the kick is . . . GOOOOOOOOD! No shit, Chris, as are 99% of the fuckers.

For ten years or more we honored the A Christmas Story tradition by hiding our 1984-born daughter’s main Santa gift a la Ralphie’s air rifle. It never failed to produce a joyful surprise.

The Year of Hypnotoad is simultaneously arriving and concluding in parallel universes. His laser eyes will dice and slice. His aura will envelop Thurston Bennet Howell, IV, and transport him to Carl’s garage in Caddyshack. Kirby Smart will have visible diarrhea stains all down his khaki breeches. Chaos will reign. Mike Leach will laugh over the P.A. and the Hollywood sign will lift off to the Moons of Meepzor. Frogs uber Dawgs, skrait up. Long live Jambi.

On second thought I’ll have nude Eva Green painted gold in a Caribbean bungalow for $2,000, Alex!

The dance off between the Indian homeboys and upper class brit twits is exhausting and amazing. Bollywood Gumnaam dissects the Raj. Peoples be banging on the drum all day. RRR taps into something . . . refreshing.

Only TV show that ever made me cry - Howdy Doody’s last episode, which aired September 24, 1960. The news passed quickly from house to house and 15 neighborhood kids gathered at my sainted Aunt’s house. When Buffalo Bob, Clarabell, Chief Thunderthud and the gang waved goodbye for the last time we all cried like babies. I had just turned nine. We had watched that show all our lives snd it was gone forever. It was a shock because none of us knew about it until the day before. I didn’t believe it until it happened right in front of me. It was like Ralphie when he decoded the Ovaltine messsge: “Sonuvabitch! They can’t do that!” Puppets, clowns and kid show hosts may creep sone people out but Howdy Doody was a really good kids’ program.

Shirley Eaton will always have a special place in my heart. Of course I was only 12 at the time and this sight blew out my pubescent circuits.

I’m seventy-one and my favorite is A Christmas Story. Jean Shepard’s delivery of the narration was like being in the conscience of a boy for post WW2 Christmastime. The perfect set decoration, Ralphie’s fantasies, Randy whining at his meatloaf, the look on the Old Man’s face when Ralphie came out with F-U-U-U-U, it was a real Christmas without the saccharine. Santa brought me a Benjamin pump air rifle when I was nine. I immediately pumped it fifteen times, loaded it with a bb, opened the back door and fired a hip shot at a female towhee, one of Mama’s favorite birds, pecking around under some bushes twenty feet away. I had zero confidence that it would hit home, a million to one shot. Dropped the poor towhee stone dead. Felt awful about it and still do. YouTube has a treasure trove of Shepard radio shows from his days at WOR in New York. He’s like a latter day Mark Twain with a dose of sick little monkey. Wish he and the little towhee were still here.

SIAP but the yuppie scum next door, Todd, was portrayed by Christopher Guest’s brother, Nicholas, so there’s that.

Hmmmmm, I beg to differ but it won’t change the outcome.

I loved Green Book and the protagonist letting his musical hair down at the juke joint after leaving the snobs at the country club. What a fine odyssey for an odd couple to find common ground.

I stand corrected. A tip of the hat to you for not being too lazy to look it up. Also, the corches’ records should be DKR 2–0-1 PWB 0-3-1 Akers 1-0-0 And, it was the 82 Cotton Bowl. Texas came back from 10-0 to win 14-12, wisely giving up a safety near the end. Texas’ one td was on a qb draw, 36 yards by Brewer. The game is on YouTube if you enjoy blurry lo-def video and the voice of Lindsey Nelson.