Bama Llama

No. It’s mostly Eastern front for first episodes so much if the killing is done by Red Army shooters and tanks. Plenty of Nazis kilt by Russians and Polish partisans. The guy’s escape from a moving Auschwitz train was bravo.

Damn good WW2 German made. German POV limited series follows five close friends (3 men, 2women) from 1940-45, who are pulled into intereoven plot lines from Stalingrad to Kursk to Auschwitz to Berlin street fighting in April 1945, all strands of which are tied together fast in Episode 3. Well photographed, well played, gory but not gratuitously so. Told from the point of view of young Germans civilans and soldiers caught up in the disintegration of the Nazi war machine following Hitler’s foolish attack on Russia (dumbass!). Enjoyed. It helped that the players were new faces, unkown to me. Not predictable, which was refreshing. Subtitles but worked smoothly. Big Brother 1 - Vehrmacht officer, Daddy’s favorite. Little Brother 2 - Draftee, ends up pulling your attention for his inner courage, disappointment to Daddy. Guy - Juden boyfriend of girl singer who has a Nazi colonel married boyfriend; escapes frim a train bound for Auschwitz and takes up wigh Polish partisans who hate Nazis and Red Army Cute girl - Volunteer nurse at Vermacht field hospital, in unrequited love with Brother 1 Singer girl - Juden lady, great singer, asshole Nazi colonel boyfriend uses her like a toy and destroys her world A small version of Saving Private Ryan, without the grand scale.

If so, I hate to imagine the “punishments” for fumbles, drops, throwing pick sixes, getting pancaked, missing chip shot game winning place kicks and bonehead false starts. ”Fayetteville, AR (AP) Former all-SEC Arkansas quarterback Billy Joe Smegmason was beheaded on the 50-yard line at Razorback Stadium immediately after throwing a pick six on what turned out to be the game’s, and his, final play. Final score- Texas 26 - Arkansas 20”

Fondren and Main, I am disgusted by your odious, tiresome, predictable, provincial, classist, sophomoric, deconstructionist stereotypes. Here’s a nice quote from an articulate, fully-toothed Alabama man, Howell Raines: ”And believe me, to have been in the city of Tuscaloosa in October when you were young and full of Early Times and had a shining Alabama girl by your side--to have had all that and then to have seen those red shirts pour onto the field, and, then, coming behind them, with that inexorable big cat walk of his, the man himself, The Bear--that was very good indeed.” Dude had a flair for words. He was editor of the New York Times for a while until a plagiarism scandal torpedoed his watch. And he wasn’teven a Texan. How could it be?

I went to the Bama/UNC game in 1982. One the worst officiated games ever seen, said our coach, Winfrey “Wimp” Sanderson a defensive guru. UNC started James Worthy, Sam Perkins, Jimmy Black, Matt Doherty and a skinny freshman named Michael Jordan. Dince UNC was involved the site was in Raleigh, geez almost 40 milrs from Chapel Hill. Since that night I’ve carried a bruise in my soul because it was the best team we’ve had in my lifetime. We had Bobby Lee Hurt, Eddie Phillips, Ennis Whatley, Mike Davis and a streaky shooting guard named Eric Richardson. Richardson had a habit of shuffling his feet when he went into his jump shot, which sas deadly. He must have nailed six shots that night and the refs waved off every fucking one - traveling. The place was packed. NC State’s old coliseum with z nasty old synthetic floor, was 80% Carolina blue, all dressed up like Mr and Mrs Thurston B Howell IV. Bama was hot, coming off wins at Rupp Arena over UK and over Chris Mullen and St John’s at Nassau Coliseum. We just couldn’t get up or stay up that awful night. With 7:30 left we were hanging in down by only 2. I told the blue wearing dude next to me, “We’re actually gonna win this.” He looked at me like a wayward child and said, “Watch the clock. When it hits 7:00, look at Dean Smith.” When ghe clock hit 7:00, Smith slowly stood up, walked to the edge of the court and raised four fingers to his players. There was no shot clock in those days, nor were dunks allowed. It was a different game. Carolina spread thr court and we spent the rest of the game fouling and wstching them shoot free throws. Lost by 5. Motherfuckers. Fucking 4 corners offense. Last night was a long time coming. I hope they suffer 10X as much as we did on 9/9/23. Still, not bad. We made footall playoff and roundball final eight in the same year. Anything can happen! 🏀🐘👍🙏

I heard she wanted to rename the school Lickety Split University

My dearest friend Mrs Llama is a beautiful blonde babe, a glamorous golden goddess, a lusciously and truly beautiful person and stone fox to boot (no pics, fuck you, perverts) but in candid moments will admit to being geospatially challenged. Listening to her (attempting to) give directions by phone is almost painful until it gets bizarre, then hilarious. Unless the person receiving these directions knows a fixed point of reference which Mrs. Llama also knows or vice versa, or can properly use their phone to navigate, it’s utterly hopeless. These “directions” usually start out: “Okay, you know that really big highway with all the lawyer billboards? Youknow, beside Dr. Berry’s office? Well, you wanna stay off that road, you’ll just get lost. Okay, start at the Walgreens, then go straght, then turn at the school. No, not the high school! The elementary school. Go down the turnoff toward the old bridge until you get to the Y intersection. Okay, then go straight.” The words “north, south, east and west” never ever enter the conversation, nor does any expression of distance or time. Those are rules. In the end, most of her directionees end up teaching themselves to use their GPS app, or I drive to a midpoint and lead them in. She always loved Leon Russell’s classic, “A Song for You.” “I love you, Mrs. Llama, in a place where there’s no space and time. . . .”

Blood Simple show stealer. Right up there with Strother Martin in the annoyingly loquacious but very articulate high, whiny Southern / Texas drawl voice type. Nasty motherfucker driving an old yellow VW true beetle. I mean it was old in ‘85. He tried hard to murder Frances McDormand but she got him in the end. Coen casting was never better.

I rather enjoyed this one. Made me think about snails, cheetahs, Cameron Diaz’ ruthless ass and how fucking stupid lawyers can be when beauty and money are involved.

Enjoyed the book (Eaters of the Dead) and not ashamed to have enjoyed the film:

Late in the Pacific campaign my uncle Sage Johnston was flying a carrier based Dauntless when a Zero kamikazied him and his gunner down into the Pacific. He survived the kamikaze and was picked up by a patrol boat. Unfortunately for him it was flying the rising sun. He spent the rest of the war in Tokyo at Ohana prison, a vety bad place. He witnessed the random beheading of American officers. Later he returned to Tokyo and testified on behalf of some of the kinder and more humane guards. A photo of him and a few other US POWs from the liberation of Ohana survives - He looked like death on a cracker. About 90 pounds on a 6’1” frame. He suffered from beei beti and was routinely beaten by guards and tortured by suspending him backeard from his elbows high on a wall from a bamboo pole. Sage was from Boligee, Alabama and lived well into his 80s. Sage’s remains rest about fifty yards downhill from the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier at Arlington. I was privileged to draft and probate his last will and testament and to witness the inurnment ceremony on a chilly, breezy, cloudless day in November, 2014. I gotta say, the air was rather dusty that day. Sage treated each day like Christmas Eve and suffered no fools. Makes sense. He did NOT talk about the war as a rule but would pipe up if you asked an intelligent question. After the war, he met a beautiful lady from Rennes in Brittany, she a veteran of the French Resistance, and they married and had three boys together, Sage, Derrick and Brett. He flew for PanAm for many years iin the 50s and 60s. He told me he and many of the other Navy prisoners at Ohana wanted to shank a fellow prisoner trusty who gave out their meager ration of food each day. He had mastered the art of dropping tidbits of meat and rice into the knee pockets of his flight suit (prisoners wore what they eere captured in) as he brought out a platter of food. Sage said the guards knew he was doing it but didn’t care.

See how you like it . . . Not another word . . . Tootle sye lents!

How to make an entrance, circa 44 BC

If you can watch this scene without choking up, you’re a fucking zombie. Fuckin Nazis und zehr Faddalant. Aux arms, Citoyens! Armez vos battalliions! Marchez, marchez, qu’un sang impur, abbreuve nos sillons!’

Fuck, no. And fuck the forever fucking overrated Notre Dame fucking Fighting fucking Irish. Bet you right now ND makes the first cut in the 12 team CFP next year and ends up barfing.

Just before he loaned Michael Douglas his haircut

That was right before he loanded Michael Douglas his hairstyle

“All the sudden, . . .” followed closely by “All of the sudden, . . .”; phrases which no one ever wrote, read or said until the 70s. Now these spoken phrases are showing up on local news and happy talk segues and any podcast. I’ve yet to see either in actual print. Please, just make it stop.

And so it begins. Better save all of your passwords and PINs in an encrypted document and save the password into that document in a different encrypted document . . . Ahh, fuck it.

1969 Nixon =~= 2024 Trump? To quote the Fugs: ”It’s four minutes to twelve and there’s a madman at the wheel.”

Tonight . . . whe shaell inta hischtaddeh.

Attorney Woo Outstanding, addictive, fabulous lead

I detest OSU but they just picked up a decent safety from the portal, freshman all-American Caleb Downs. And the rb from Ole Miss, Judkins, was another good pickup.

Huh. Well I did see that but it looked like a heavy dump truck with a .50 cal mounted in the in the bed. My powers of observation are slipping. Thx