Bama Llama

Mr. Hobbs Takes a Vacation openingvcredits rolling now. NatLamp's Vacation without the sizzling humor but still a good watch. Jummy Schtewart at his best.

Shittiest!? You know you actually love those lyrics. I revere Zevon and his lyrics. My favorite version was a live version with a variation: "I saw a werewolf trying to buy a used car at Del Mar, It was a blood-red Coupe deVille." That's even better than seeing a werewolf at Trader Vic's, even if his hair was . . . Perfect.

I'd say Jimi Hendrix was a unique, epic, mesmerizing frontman. I loved the way he started off most shows. He would roll out half a dozen impossible runs and licks, stride slowly to the mic, and say, in that trademark hip voice, "Soooo, we meet again," and take himself, Mitch, Noel and everyone there into another dimension. Was he "#2?" Fuck if I know.

Fifty years ago this August I enrolled at The Institute on South Main, where I saw guys wearing slide rule holsters. Total enrollment was 3,400, 5/7 male, 2/7 female, residing in seven residential colleges. "TRG" meant typical rice girl. I dated three atypical Rice girls (sorry, pics have disintegrated). They were cool; one was nubile and rather comely. It was said that half of the students had to be Texas residents and half of those had to be from Houston. My three roommates were all Texans, outrageous and extreme Cowboys fans. Next door just inches away from my head lived a Chinese guy who played CSN&Y's "Suite: Judy Blue Eyes" all the fucking time. Drove me batshit. Every time I saw a toad on the sidewalk outside our room (often) I would import it into the Chinese guy's room through a cavity in the hole for the radiator when it was quiet over there. I put about 20 toads over there until one night he said "Ahhhhh-HA! So that's where they came from! Why, man?" I told him and he graciously quit playing that damned song so much. A Burmese prince who drove a Porsche 911 lived in the Chinese guy's room. I was a water balloon warrior, holding up an 8-ft 2x4 while another dumbass held up another, and the launch master aimed a small plastic beach bucket attached with surgical tubing to the tops of the 2x4s. In this way we waged war with neighboring dorms. Occasionally the balloons were filled with liquid other than water. If you were a stanchion holder you held your breath when a piss balloon was launched. The balloons would travel 100 yards to impact. There were a handful of us Alabamians at Rice and we all pretty much assimilated into the sardonically irreverent Rice culture. In those days the MOB was just flexing its wings. There was no actual College of Music at Rice then but the MOB recruited students with band experience and those dudes could play. The MOB had about 100 members. Once vs UH (which we called Cougar High) at the Dome, at halftime the MOB took the field and scrambled to form a lopsided shape which sort of resembled the Astrodome. The MOB's p.a. guy, who had a great FM deejay voice, boomed, "The Rice University Marching Owl Band salutes Judge Roy Hofheinz and the Houston Astrodome, [long pause], THE WORRRRLD'S SMAAALLLLEST INNNDOOOR STAAAAAYYYDIUMMM!" Judge Roy, who was seated in his box a few steps from the press box, stormed in, yanked the mic out if its socket and took it away. The MOB completed its show unaccompanied by the words of its announcer. in 1972, Rice won the SWC in every sport but one (football). I wonder if any other SWC school ever accomplished that but I'm too lazy to look it up. Frequent cheer at RU football games, following lost fumbles, botched plays, failed 4th down conversions, drive killing penalties, etc.: "OOOOOOOOOOOOH SHIT! GOD DAMN!" My roommates and I went to Aggieland in 1970 and saw Rice embarass the Aggies 18-17. I say embarrass because fakery was involved. I know it was windy and cold as shit. I delighted in seeing another Rice-at-Aggy game. Rice was losing at halftime, didnt make a first down in the second half and still won. Before the game, the Owl suit cheerleader guy strutted around the field before the taunting the Cotps and Aggie fans in general. He would face the crowd, wave and salute and clap, then turn around and bend over. He had a little sign sewed to the ass of his costume, under the long tail of his suit. He would flip the tail up and wiggle his ass at the Aggies, who would hiss and jeer maniacally and shower him with ice, cups and other projectiles. Finally, we saw why. The sign included a perfect replica of the Aggie logo, though slightly altered: E A T M E

Fair enough. 31.

If I had to choose one hundred tracks as a general proposition, the Doors wouldn't be among them. If you add the variable "to accompany a beach weekend with a nubile young lady who's horny for you and vice versa," Doors music would be there in the top 50 a couple of times at least. It's about what mood you're in and the occasion, and your age when first introduced to their music. I'm 68. That's why Baskin-Robbins has 32 flavors. Some Doors lyrics are right on the money: "Don't you love her as she's walking out the door?"

Incumbent Dem Senator Doug Jones has a tough job ahead but has what it takes to beat Tommy Tatertown on Nov 3. PS - Fuck Tuberville, Trump, and the PACs they rode in on

Wankers simple - check alliterative - check apt - check

https://www.nytimes.com/2020/07/06/obituaries/ennio-morricone-dead.amp.html Without his music, spaghetti westerns may not have made it into the cinema conversation. Lots of good trivia on Ennio in the above. Did you know the Dollars Trilogy films were all released in the U.S. in 1967? Hell, I saw them in theaters but had forgotten when. I was more interested in my dates' morals or lack thereof than film soundtracks. On the edge of seventeen. Ahh, Stimpy, those were the days. Bravissimo, Maestro Ennio et grazie mille.

Fireworks and thunder wreak havoc with canines' sensitive hearing. Our dog and best pal r-u-n-n o-f-t on a July 4th after the local overdone fireworks extravaganza. We found her three days later, thirsty, filthy and beat up, still panting and nervous as if Godzilla were right behind her. We had to get "doggie downers" from our vet and have at the ready to keep her from going berserk during thunderstorms. She was a brilliant mutt and dead ringer for Nipper, the RCA logo 🐶 dog listening to His Master's Voice on the Victrola. Five minutes after taking a downer dog biscuit, she had Chinese eyes and a "heyyyy, mayyyannnn" look on her face and wasn't worried about fucking firworks or thunder.

And since Texas Fight echoes the same chord progression it has to go, too. Right? That's the logical extension of the Dump The Eyes argument. My future bride and I were two of those in attendance at Rice Stadium on October 24, 1970 for the Texas game. The stadium was packed with 70,000 plus on that pleasant Saturday night. At least six or seven thousand were Rice fans. When the Longhorn band struck up The Eyes and all those hands and voices were raised, it was cool and intimidating to me personally, as a lifelong Alabama and college football fan. My girl tapped me in the shoulder and pointed to the VIP seats high above us. There stood LBJ and Lady Bird. He looked great in a snow-white Western cut suit, white hair flowing and much longer than when he was prez, white stetson doffed for The Eyes, which he was singing with what appeared to be gusto, right arm raised with the hook 'em salute. The moment is engraved in my memory as a positive time in my life. And Rice's Carl Swierc ran the opening kickoff back for a touchdown. Elated, we Rice students correctly and swiftly deduced we would lose big but that the mighty Longhorns would have to come from behind to do it, which they promptly did, 45-21. I think Wooster had about 200 yards rushing. There appear to be three basic options here: A. Keep it B. Dump it C. Revise the lyrics All U of Texas voices (admin, students, alums, football family, fans) should be heard and considered. Make the call with an eye to the future and emerge better than ever. Who makes the call? Fuck if I know, but they need to take it seriously and not knee-jerk.

A rec room with a pool table "Central" forced air HVAC (DOB 1951 here)

He did everything he did with pure panache, always with eye toward humor, joy or both. I dearly loved his role in The Russians Are Coming, The Russians Are Coming. And I loved watching his kids' lovely blonde babysitter as well. Hey, I was 15 and the tessosserome was boiling. Bravissimo Carl Reiner. They can all ho to hell 'cept Cave 76!

So, I can be a 68-year old "white man" (a male with light-colored epidermis directly descended from a homo sapiens who was born in East Africa, as we all were), whose earliest and fondest memory is being three years old sitting on his grandmother's lap in western Alabama listening with rapture to Br'er Rabbit stories, without being deemed a racist? Excellent. By the way, she portrayed Br'er Rabbit and Uncle Remus as especially good, positive individuals. I have always looked up to the Uncle Remus character. But I am not "black" so I can't have a viable opinion about any BLM issue. But I digress. I appreciated NotActually's post. Let's try the Golden Rule and see how that works. Stop destroying shit.

I would love to see their take on this Midnight Special segment with the original Genesis with Peter Gabriel with bat wing eyebrows. B&B would shoot Big Gulp cola out through their noses..

Some AD (Texas? Bama? ND?) should step up right now and say "Fuck it, we're punting the 2020 season; see y'all next year," sue us if you want to. Force majeure. Lives are more important than games. Jesus, why is this still even in doubt? What does it take, front end loaders full of bodies?

Agree 100% with the last sentence, but speak for yourself as to her physical beauty. I always felt an attraction to Bonnie. Guess that's why they make Bruton and Garrett.

We are becoming the Eloi. The time has come for Rod Taylor to drop in from New Year's Eve, 1899 and blow up the Morlocks.

Welcome to Moronica and its president, a dishonest hot air balloon of a twitter queen wearing a six foot long red Hermes necktie, the Enemy of Enlightenment.

Quentin's use of music and editing over, under, around and through sweet little gems of music draw me to Tarantino World more than anything. And all the pretty blonde ladeez. One more thing, the scene at the beginning of Inglorious Basterds in the French country farmhouse, when the focus shifted and the eyes of the people hiding under the house showed up was absolutely stunning to this old man. And the long shot of the SS officer's Mercedes rolling up the road in the distance as "The Green Grass of Summer," featured in 1961's The Alamo, swelled in the soundtrack. Good stuff there.

Councilman Guy Phillips molests collies. He can lead his tribe to the Covid ICU. What a dumbass.

That was a good start. Now he and any other coach who gives a shit about the welfare of the players should advocate canceling the 2020 season. What more has to happen? A train is rolling out of control toward these kids and greedy ADs and administrators and fans are all saying to stay on the tracks, that's just the light at the end if the tunnel. Bullshit!

Moronica. No, wait, he's the leader of Moronica. Now if the rest of us can get a fair vote tally in November, we'll be rid of this enemy of enlightenment. One more Tulsa turd of a rally and he may invent an illness and pack it in.

(So sorry - can't figure out how to adjust font; following is shamelessly plagiarized.) If Trump were Captain of the Titanic: There isn't any iceberg It’s a fake iceberg There was an iceberg but it's in a totally different ocean People say it's the biggest iceberg The iceberg is in this ocean but it will melt very soon There is an iceberg but we didn't hit the iceberg We hit the iceberg, but the damage will be repaired very shortly I knew from the beginning there was an iceberg, long before people called it an iceberg The iceberg is a Chinese iceberg We are taking on water but every passenger who wants a lifeboat can get a lifeboat, and they are beautiful lifeboats Look, passengers need to ask nicely for the lifeboats if they want them We don't have any lifeboats, we're not lifeboat distributors Passengers should have planned for icebergs and brought their own lifeboats I really don't think we need that many lifeboats We have lifeboats and they're supposed to be our lifeboats, not the passengers' lifeboats The lifeboats were left on shore by the last captain of this ship Nobody could have foreseen the iceberg I'm an expert on icebergs I've got lots of friends who deal with icebergs, some of the best, really good ice people who know ice Summer will come and the iceberg will disappear, it will go away, like magic

Song tossing discussion will soon be spreading to a couple of SEC fanbases: 1. Last line in lyrics of "Yea, Alabama!" - "You're Dixie's football pride, Crimson Tide." 2. Last line to "War Eagle" - "War Eagle, win for Auburn, power of Dixieland." I say we figure out a way to come out of all this better than ever. Step one: listen.