29 March, 2006

Brinkless Links

....came up to me she said she loved the show/Asked her to come home and she couldn't say, "No!"....

The death of Slobodon Milosevic last week caused me a couple of angst-y moments, in that I enjoyed a brief moment of satisfaction that a villan was finally dead, then a moment of realization that all villains are eventually dead, and then several sad moments thinking that all people I love are also eventually dead.

Neither original nor profound, I know, but I’m wearing really faaaaaabulous underwear.

I realize it's been awhile since I've posted a bunch of absurd links for you people. Apologies, everyone.

I've been taking a class on screen painting, though you couldn't get more un-traditional than my screen: I'm reproducing a Picasso.

Here's some traditional screen painting. More traditional screen painting

Related pretty city pictures, and some others.

The WilWheaton link has been broken for awhile, but it was a low-priority issue. Here is where he's posting right now: WilWheaton In Exile, if anyone is interested. Yes, he's Just A Geek but he is fairly entertaining.

This is from Sloth's list of links, Stuff On My Cat, which I post here mostly for a far off nomadic pal who admits to liking movies with talking animals and unabashedly misses his dog.

More stupid cat stuff, from RatherGood, of course.

According to this website, July is the best time to visit Philly. Watch the clip. It’s old, of course, and those tiny, funnel-hatted Chinese diablo girls are all grandmothers now, but you get the picture.

So you thought The Incredible Mr. Limpet was fiction, did you? Speculative fiction, maybe. Check this out.

And of course, we’d have had less dramatic footage of mating penguins without CritterCam.

More weird science, this time playing on the deliberately fostered fear factor.

And of course it had to happen, The Lord of The Rings- the Musical. It’ll probably earn a Tony for makeup or set design.

Finally, just for fun, The Pain- When Will It End?.

I love my children. No, really.

(She's Crafty;The Beastie Boys)

26 March, 2006

Working Girl

...put on a little makeup, makeup/make sure they get your good side, good side....

Cheap enough?

He casts an appraising eye. "More makeup."

Right. I set to work with powder and paint.


"Mmm. What are you going to do about lipstick?"

I'm WEARING lipstick.

"Ahhhh, what have you got that's bright?"

I have this frosted orangey stuff.

"Let's see it. Yeah, that's good."

So now I look cheap?

He narrows his eyes, then grins. "Not really. But you'll do."

We start downstairs. I slip on the carpet. "Whoa, Cybbie, you okay?"

Yes. Shit! No. I broke a heel.

"Damn. Those shoes were perfect, too."

This week, I'll be shopping for a new pair of black satin maribou-trimmed Marilyn mules.

Poor me.

(Goody Two-Shoes; Adam Ant)

23 March, 2006

Go Figure

My salad dressing bottle makes me happy today.

It says:

50% less fat
33% fewer calories
than regular dressing

which amused me as I carried it to the Express lane and cringed beneath a sign screaming 10 ITEMS OR LESS.

22 March, 2006

Night Sweat

...nocturnal vacation/ unnecessary sedation/ you want to feel at home 'cause you belong....

We are at the Renaissance Festival, near the Joust field. The children wander off on their stilts, costumed and brightly colored. I gaze after them fondly, then head in a different direction. From the Boardwalk, I turn back and look at the Ferris Wheel as it climbs higher and higher into the air. Another stiltwalker in a large costume, like the old Bob the Giant, climbs on the outside of the rising Ferris Wheel. I know who is inside the costume; it is my ex-partner J., and I think what he’s doing is dangerous, but he often does risky things. I stare at the sky, and the giant rotating wheel that was on the ground moments ago. Suddenly, there is a puff of fire on one of the cars. Soon, the wheel is consumed, and the costumed stiltwalker falls from the wheel, burning in the sky. The wheel explodes, and pieces of it fall as flaming rain onto the site. I stop to say a prayer for everyone aboard the wheel, especially for J., knowing he wouldn't thank me.There is screaming everywhere, and people panic and run around.

I realize that I do not know where my children are.

I begin to look for them. My efforts are hampered by tents that have sprung up, giving out bottled water and sweatshirts, assisting the emergency crews, none of whom seem interested in helping me find my children. In fact, one patron has a daughter who wants to learn stiltwalking, and insists that I give lessons, right now. The Boardwalk at the Festival has changed to the Boardwalk at the beach, but the Smiths are there, as though the whole Festival has been transported to the beach. I abandon the patron woman and her stiltwalking daughter and begin to search the beaches for my babies, whom I am sure are together, but the beaches are crowded, crowded, and I can’t find them. J. appears on the Boardwalk, amidst a crowd of emergency workers, and I embrace him. He pats me gently as I sob, and I tell him I can’t find the kids. He does not offer to help.

I return to my search, alone. I have my cell phone, but I cannot call my husband and worry him with this. He can't help, and it would upset him. I do not call.

I wake, crying.

(Welcome to My Nightmare; Alice Cooper)

20 March, 2006

Late Night

...thrilling (thrilling) and chilling (chilling), yeah, she's so divine/She's mine (mine)/Mine (mine)/woh-oh-oh....

From across the frozen wastelands, he calls me Cyb and makes me smile.

Sooooooo hop over and say howdy to Jon Busey-Hunt, which is what Dude's calling hisownself these days. I first knew of him as Jonny, concubine and webmeiseter extraordinaire to the hott yes with more than one t Diablo Cody, friend of the wildly weird Corey Andersen, who brings us this Simpson-related activity.

Of course, Jon is now married to Diablo, though we didn’t see ANY wedding pictures, and I was hoping for some, hint hint.

On a side note, I loved reading Candy Girl and am pleased that Diablo's New York booksigning event was parlayed into a Letterman appearance. Which explains why I'm up late. Aside to the side note: I guess that makes her Diablo Cody Busey-Hunt.

And I thought MY name was a mouthful.

(Candy Girl; Frankie Valli)

15 March, 2006

Deflated Expectations

...I'm in heaven/With my boyfriend, my laughing boyfriend....

Yesterday, I wasted an hour, puffing and powdering and perfuming the flashy cleavage in hopes of attentive service at the Genius Bar, since all the Geniuses WILL insist on being gay.

(Genius of Love; Tom Tom Club)

11 March, 2006

Prone, Perspiring

...fever/when you kiss me/ fever when you hold me tight/fever/in the morning/fever all through the night....

For those of you who thought Primarily Decorative has spent the last couple of 70+ degree days lying around in the sunshine half naked working on early tanlines, you'd be about half right.

It's my blog, and I'll whinge if I want to.

Best thing? Fever dreams. Worst thing? Fever dreams from which I consciously wake, remembering in vivid detail.

(You Give Me Fever; Peggy Lee)

03 March, 2006

Performance Update

...had to have the last word, last night/ you're so much fun to be around/ you had to have the front page, bold type....

Opening tonight: The Hobbit at the Chesapeake Arts Center's Studio Theater, where Fluffy performs as a dwarf, I perform on the sound board, and Fuzzy is Designated Audience.

Later this month, you can catch me in Mansion Murder Mysteries, with the lovely Tom Plott. The show is called the So-Soapranos, written orignally as One Of The Gang, by CJ Crowe (though she was McWilliams then). I'm slated to be in the show Friday the 17th, Saturday the 25th, and Friday the 31st of March. Who else will be in the cast or even what role I'll play is still nebulous at this point.

I'm to read poetry- in fact I'll be the featured poet- on Thursday the 13th of April, at Coffee Beanery Cafe, 2641 Riva Rd, in Annapolis from 6:30 to 8:30 PM.

This just in: I will be returning (god willing and the crick don't rise) to the Maryland Renaissance Festival. The Mimi Flambe Show, however, will be on hiatus.

I could rant about other people ruining my show by setting patrons on fire, but I'm all ranted out.


(Big Shot; Billy Joel)

01 March, 2006

My Rants

....Whatcha gonna do with all that junk /all that junk inside that trunk ...

First thing: Do the BlackEyedPeas make music at all, or do they exist simply to sell stuff on TV?

GWB 's attitude about our ports is pissing me off. I refer you to DanTobin's funny post of sadire. (I think you've coined a new term, Dan- for satire so dead-on that you wish you were wrong) and this whole energy breakthrough bullshit? Ugh.

Drilling in Alaska, war in Iraq, (don't even let me start) and now he claims we’re having an energy breakthrough? Hello? None of this is new technology. It's old technology, firmly sat upon by the oil/auto industry, who purchased most of the patents, like, a million years ago. And Dubya smirks as though it was his idea.


From the Tiny Little Pet Peeves Department: I don't use a blowdryer. Well, not hardly. I haven't used a blowdryer more than four times in the last two years. I can't stand the noise. So how is it that the little girl, having recently discoverd that we own a blowdryer, comes into the bathroom to use that noisy goddamn monster WHILE I'M IN THERE???

Moving to the local arena, I don't think I'm alone in my feelings of affection towards WillieDon, the former Mayor of Baltimore City, the former Governor of Maryland, and Maryland's current Comptroller. Maybe I am. Even so. I am tired of him taking so much heat.

The Animal insists that it is inappropriate for the third most powerful man in the state to behave in this way.

Please. I’ve about had it with political correctness. Get over it, already. Let an old man be an old man, ferchrissake. In what way would it have hurt anyone for the 'little girl' to have glanced back over her shoulder, winked at the Comptroller and said, "You just wanted to watch me walk away again, didn't you?"


More grr, grr that possibly only someone who tries to teach English to public school students would understand: Birthday Boy says, "Well, you ARE the only person I know who would make a special call for a misplaced apostrophe. Since you're up here all the time, I would have figured you'd mention it sometime when you happened to be here anyway. But a special call? I m not calling you crazy, just, uh.... extreme."

Am I? My hero, the excellent Lynne Truss, doesn't think so. She has met with a man from the Apostrophe Protection Society.She knows the origins of the Apostropher Royal. She discusses public displays of ignorance:

I also began to notice an entertaining law of public signage: wherever an apostrophe is required, it is left out; wherever an apostrophe is not required, it's put in. Look around. It's an infallible rule. A sign outside an apartment block will say "RESIDENTS REFUSE TO GO IN THE BINS", whereas a sign in a garden centre says "PANSY'S READY".

These will get right by Mr., Mrs., or Dr. Average Joe, but if you asked "And why shouldn't they?" and "For what?", then I greet you as my true sibling of spirit, especially if you made mental corrections automatically.

So why am I tortured daily by all you peple who think you can punctuate but can't? And the rest of you, who think punctuation isn't important? No, you're right, it's not. No more so than manners, or traffic laws, both of which seem optional or at least arbitrary in adherences. Most folk don’t know an apostrophe from their asshole. But I do. And I can't stand seeing them misused. Misplaced apostrophes leap out at me from page or screen, raking their curved little claws down the blackboard of my mind, giving me absolutely the screaming fantods. And there's no reason for it! Again, the heroic Ms. Truss:

The confusion of the possessive "its" (no apostrophe) with the contractive "it's" (with apostrophe) is an unequivocal signal of illiteracy. The rule is: the word "it's"( (with apostrophe) stands for "it is" or "it has". If the word does not stand for "it is" or "it has" then what you require is "its". This is extremely easy to grasp.

So whether you're ignorant or simply careless, don't expect me to overlook it. I'm psychically incapable.

Oh, and? Enough with Dick Cheney's hunting accident already. Yeah, he shot somebody accidentally while hunting. Shit happens. It was just a lawyer, people.

Finally, from the That's More Like It Department:

"Hey, sweetheart! Yoo-hoo! Helllooo, Pretty Lady!"

I do eventually turn around. An elderly truck driver is standing outside of his truck waving at me, drawling some nonsense that I'm supposed to find flattering. I wave back and grin, then turn away.

I'd been leaning over to put things in the trunk of my car.

It IS my best side.

(My Humps; BlackEyedPeas)