The Most Outlandish Tale About Anxiety and Depression Ever Told

 Wait wait, the story doesn’t start here!  This is a blog hop, people!High Anxiety Blog Hop
Click HERE to start from the beginning.

 

 

I stepped closer. “Whoa! Is that what I think it is?!”

The Cretin Brothers took a step back. Disbelief shown on their ugly faces. Reaching around in the purse my hand found my lipstick tube. I flicked it open and pepper spray hit both of the ugly Midnight Movers.
“Ooops”  I said.

My heart thudded as the immediate arresting thoughts slammed me:

  1. I’d forgotten to re-stock the Xanax in this purse
  2. The phone number for 911 had completely escaped my mind
  3. That tube of lipstick had better not be lost. Revlon discontinued that shade
  4. The portable charger was easy to find in my bag
  5. We’re gonna need a bigger boat

As the ugly stick kids gagged and wiped at their eyes I hobbled over to the item they’d dropped. Tears of gratitude welled in my eyes. Bending down I grabbed the extension cord and plugged it into the charger. In an utterly selfless act I aimed the rounded end of the object towards Tall Guy’s tuchus. With a mighty push on the wheels a glow and hum began to emanate from the missile shaped package. They suddenly understood. Mascara running down his cheeks, Tall reached down to grab his ankles.

Short dark and ugly stood by and watched as the A-Bomb shot directly towards his comrade’s backside “Oh dear Gods! It’s a giant…..

Click HERE to continue the story!

 

A Banner Sunday

Hey there. It’s raining outside. the music library is on shuffle, and I’m taking a break. Just ready to sort out the coming week’s medications, vitamins and assorted supplements. Don’t know why I crave any actual food after choking all of this crap down each day.

Notice the new YoYo-Dyne banner? Cool isn’t it? Adam over at Chowderhead offered to design a banner for the first 25 readers that snapped up his offer. Being adroit at finding all things cheap (see ex-boyfriend) Adam’s offer couldn’t be passed up. You can see ALL of the nifty banners he designed at the above link.

For those of you unfamiliar with YoYo-Dyne, here’s a quick question.
Have you ever watched Buckaroo Banzai? You know, origin of the oft-used phrase ‘no matter where you go, there you are’? If you’re familiar with this 80’s fan classic then you’re okay. No admission fee for You.
But wait! There’s another way you can sneak in under the big-top canvas. Perhaps you’ve read The Crying of Lot 49 by Thomas Pynchon? You’ll see YoYo-Dyne Propulsion Labs show up there for the very first time. Earl Mac Rauch, who wrote the screenplay for Buckaroo, lifted Pynchon’s mythical Rockwell/Boeing/Hughes Evil Giant Corporation (because that could never happen right?) for amusement purposes. An in joke for a very small number of fantasy genre readers.

It wasn’t until I’d begun tossing around the YoYo-Dyne name in various stories, graphics and conversations that The Crying of Lot 49 became a beloved fixture on my own bookshelf. If you get the chance, read it. Almost a novella, it is not a long read. You’ll find a slew of 1960’s pop references, all cleverly and amusingly disguised, in The Crying of Lot 49. Pynchon will take you on your own treasure hunt.
But this one is mine.

Dammit, another movie entirely

Dammit, another movie entirely

So I started to dig around a bit to see if anyone else had been using and happily abusing the Lectroids and Lord John Whorfin. The latter were all running about the YoYo-Dyne warehouses last I heard, screaming something about Planet 10.

I already knew that the YoYo-Dyne name was unavailable in any url form I wanted. Tried to lock down that baby 15 years ago. Someone I worked with at The WB mentioned that she’d seen a YoYo-Dyne Hair Salon, or Hair Something, in one of the Dakotas. Weird but cool.
My own contribution is this blog, and a Facebook page. Listed my employer on FB as YoYo-Dyne Propulsion Systems: Reno Div, Location, Grover’s Mill, N.J.
In the infinite wisdom of Mark Zuckerberg it seems that by collecting 25 ‘Likes’ your page is considered a viable location. Believe it has over 85 members now, and perhaps 15 or so are friends of mine.
My current position, listed on my personal FB page, is CEO, Writer and Fellowship Chair of Banzai Physics. I have a real employer now, YoYo-Dyne Propulsion, that comes up on the link. It must be true.

Found that there was a reference to YoYo-Dyne Propulsion on an old show called Angel, which was a spin-off of Buffy The Vampire Slayer.
Seems ABC referenced YoYo-Dyne on a website for a fictional company named PB-Sales. The site was created for the television show Lost. PB-Sales supposedly owned not only YoYo-Dyne but GeoComtex; a Company owned by Van Stratton from Dr. Who. The site’s gone now, but my fangirl neurosis cannot be quelled.

Doctor Who Rules My World

The Doctor is IN

We’ve gone through enough pointless history on YoYo-Dyne Propulsion systems that my ears have been treated to Madness, Zero7, Ella Fitzgerald, Ben Folds, Wagner and The Format. I’d die without music.
It’s all that’s left. My beautiful concert grand is in Reno, on consignment at a retail music store.
I tried to play one more time before it was dismantled and taken from my home. Still had hands like claws, so even a slow rendition of Scott Joplin’s Solace wouldn’t come.

Now I keep music, books and movies close. Buckaroo Banzai Across the Eight Dimension and John Cale singing Hallelujah, Princess Bride and Gogol Bordello. Tom Woodrell speaks to me while Kings of Leon sing Pyro.

A good friend pointed out that life is a spiderweb. Everything is interconnected. I don’t believe we’re separated by 6 degrees, but we may be 3 strands from understanding.

So that’s all I have to share today. Buckaroo Banzai is available on Netflix streaming again. Even if you don’t love the movie the end title sequence is a gem. Never seen anything like it before or since. The only versions of the credits on YouTube are a mess. Eh, get up and haul your ass over to the TV. It’s worth 90 minutes of your time to check out Peter Weller, John Lithgow, Jeff Goldblum and a cast of Lectroids in one of my fave little films.

At least you’ll understand why YoYo-Dyne Propulsion Systems: Reno Division has been invaded by aliens. Time to get back to the pills and my Fresca. The hands are getting better, so cross your fingers. I feel some ragtime creeping into my soul. It really is a banner Sunday.

                  Laugh while you can Monkeyboy!

Buckaroo Banzai Beyond the 8th Dimension

Shot from the End Credits

 ~Miss R: Fangirl Geek or Eccentric Human? Poll next week.

Owner of an original Buckaroo Movie Poster, Two original BB coffee mugs -still in use and unbroken, a shooting script (photocopy) signed by Earl Mac Rausch (not photocopy), a BB studio promo button and of course memories of the first time I saw this film: in New Jersey with friends on the night it was released. The audience stood and gave the flick a standing ovation. Not something you come across much anymore

Hooray For Hollywood

HollywoodHollywood by Charles Bukowski

The Rachael Rad Rating : 5 of 5 stars

I loved this book. See a lot of ‘eh’ reviews. Have no idea if it’s my own involvement in film, writing and Los Angeles of the past that makes this tale a spark of real life. I believe it’s the writing alone that does it.
This is Bukowski as Bukowski, not ‘Hank’.

‘Hollywood’ was and still is a pleasure to read. A must have for any screen writer, rags to riches bum, alcoholic literary being, or the real reason to read Buk or Fante.. The Clean Line.

It’s the story of ‘Barfly’ (a Bukowski book) and the making of that film. It starred Mickey O’Rourke. Bukowski had such a wonderful time seeing the project through and it shows in this work. It is a peek into the real life of an icon.

Some people never go crazy, what  truly horrible lives they must lead
Seems readers either love him or hate him. I met him in a bar, in Long Beach in the very early 80’s, and thought that he was a consummate asshole.
Based on a personal experience I refused to read any more of his work and filled myself with righteous indignation.
What an ass. Me. Not Buk.

The man could write. I feel that Bukowski is one of the Top 5 Best Writers of the 20th Century. His words could immediately sabotage the happiest fool, punch your lights out with the measure of anger at society, and stun you with his graphic and street-level view of humanity, and heighten your mind to poetic grace with his insights. Within the same piece all of these textures could be transfused. You loved with his heart and so hurt with his hurt.
He enjoyed doing live readings with a cooler on the stage next to him. Woe be to a heckler or someone foolish enough to speak too loudly. It’s true. Beer cans can fliy.

Hollywood is a personal story, filled with the real feelings and observations of an author finally revered for their work. Finally taken seriously. Finally able to let his personal side and thoughts of his life come out. It is quite different from any of his other writings. Well, so was Pulp. Pulp however… was truly the ‘eh’ Bukowski.

And Our Musical Selection For This Evening

Currently Listening:  Hollywood Madness

By:
Richie Cole
From:
The Rad Rachael Original Signed Vinyl Stack

Richie Cole: Hollywood Madness

Richie Cole plays an amazing, high energy, gorgeous alto. It’s scary-cool pure synchronicity that a sneaky little subconscious slapped this on the turntable while writing the Bukowski review.

First time I heard Richie I thought “Damn, this guy can blow.. and he’s white!” Couldn’t believe I hadn’t heard him play before. He was an L.A. fixture and his style is the combination of his be-bop roots, and late 70’s and early 80’s fusion. Richie Cole has added his raucous and heavenly talents to other musical acts ranging from Buddy Rich to Manhattan Transfer. That’s a lot of years and genres.

These were the days when my radio tastes went from punk to jazz. Oddly I could never get my punk rock friends interested in Sonny Rollins, Richie, Stanley Turentine or Weather Report. Conversely, the Jazz contingent would never end our nights with a stellar a cappella rendition of Beat on the Brat With A Baseball Bat.
Met Richie at the Queen Mary Jazz Festival in 1982 or ’83. Cool cat. Down to earth and a smile as big as the Ritz. We had a few beers and talked music, and life. Met up with him again at another festival in the early 90’s.

Holy Shit Batman. Age and drugs had taken a toll. No, his entire wallet.
Heard him play then later hit an after-party at a friend’s house. Richie sat alone on a couch, towards the back of the cluttered living room. Naturally I made a bee line and plopped the ass down beside him.
Couldn’t believe that nobody else at the party was in line to shake his hand. He lit up a doob and we smoked and people watched for a while.
Mentioned that I had talked with him before. He remembered me, or at least said he did. Which was nice.
His name, and remarkable style, had faded by 1994.
It was a comfortable chat and I’ll always remember the way it felt in that room. The cigarette smoke, a fire in the old stone fireplace, musicians aplenty, a very faint smell of spilled beer in old carpet, and the quiet peace of smoking a joint with a good friend. Maybe that was it. He wasn’t a long time friend, but he made me feel that way. Left the party and took Richie’s number with me, he took mine as well. A happy ‘I’ll call you when I’m back in town’ and that was the last time I saw him.

Heard later he’d been in and out of rehab for heroin. Same drug that clipped the wings of Bird. It explained his deteriorated appearance.
Never saw Richie again, but I’ve kept his albums through all the years of marriages, divorces (Divorce: noun. Meaning ‘to lose your favorite music.’) and cross-country moves.

Bukowski and Richie Cole are two great examples of my Hollywood. As a L.A. kid, New York City grown-up, Reno, Nevada hell-if-I-know, the memories of my original home and experiences are still easily stirred. Think it’s the same for anyone with a bit of dreamer inside.
A sight, a bar of music, a phrase on paper, can fill our souls with a spate of emotions.
Can’t think of a better reason to elicit Hooray for Hollywood.

~Miss Noir

What Your Search Terms Are Saying Behind Your Back

Image courtesy of MediaFuturist

Image courtesy of MediaFuturist

Due to a Creative Block currently tying up Highway 50 just east of Right Side of the Brain Plaza off-ramp, YoYo-Dyne finally presents today’s offering. There has never been a post so bone -headed -chilling, spell-binding, spine crackling, lacking in original concept and dripping with so many useless adjectives it’s reminiscent of rats abandoning a neglected blog.

You’ll Laugh! You’ll Cry! You’ll Drool with Joy!
Hell, you’ll go running next door to rub your balls on the neighbor’s dog!

Sit back, grab a beverage and get ready to find out some frightening facts about our readers

THE WEIRD AND DISTURBING SEARCH TERMS USED TO LAND HERE AT
YOYO-DYNE PROPULSION SYSTEMS

  • Sloths for Sale – The first thing that came to mind upon seeing this was naturally ‘Dammit. It’s no longer legal to sell The Demon Seed ™ since she’s over 18.’ To my knowledge there are no sloth pictures, sloth memes, wash sloths or Placental Mammals of any kind lurking on the premises.
  •  sloth for sale – NO SLOTHS FOR YOU! There are three additional sloth related search terms as well. I became perplexed and did a search of the site. Then fell back to sleep.
  • Funny Reason To Hire Me – This had a lot of views. Several years ago I wrote a post called Amazingly Compelling Reason To Hire Me. In all humility it is the funniest CV ever produced. What scares me about the number of queries on this one is that some poor schmuck is looking to steal my intellectual property. Albeit 6 year old intellectual property. Swine.
  •  dead christmas tree – When I think twisted humor, mental illness, sobriety, cute kitties, and rare neuro-spinal diseases the first thought is always The Yoyo-Dyne Propulsion Systems’ Dead Christmas Tree Lot and Sloth Farm’
  • fuck my weed and my weed fuck – While I neither endorse nor condone the use of any controlled substance (Try it. What are you? Chicken?) there is no phrase remotely similar to either of these well thought out searches. We do not endorse nor condone the use of expletives either. You weed fucker.
  •  fapping to facebook pictures – Yes it’s true. There is a lengthy comment section on a piece in which I try to explain fapping to some of my favorite readers, mostly in the UK and Australia. Yes. It was in relation to a F**eBook status I’d written that day. Yes. I have no shame.
  • hanukkah santa sorry change the door – Truly, this cannot be explained. Let’s move on shall we?
  •  dumbass ex husband pic – Hahahahaha. Joke’s on them. I have two dumbass ex husbands.
  • sloth un rape – Dear god what is wrong with people? Just saw this one. Sloth.
  •  purple bondage tits – For you long time readers there’s no question why this baby showed up. WP insists on giving YoYo-Dyne the equivalent of an R rating. Someone in the head office likes boobies but won’t share. Sonny wouldn’t Cher either and look what happened to him.
  •  pimped out walkers – These two anonymous Googlers made my dark cold heart swell three sizes today
  • stephen hawking drunk – another twofer! Yep it isn’t enough that the guy is a human autoclave. Let’s give Steve a hangover and let him click-twitch-bang-clackety his way to the fridge for an early morning PBR.
  • mitt romney fuck – This speaks for itself

Here are a couple more just because: homeless whore – two queries using this search term; probably the ex husbands, -peter o’toole and cat, -why germans always loose the war, -draun rag vineo yo yo hane sige, -sex, drugs & wheelchairs, -i feel fantastic

Had the usual 100+ hits for Hanukkah Harry, End of the World stuff, Depressing Playlists, anything and everything Burning Man, and at least twenty regarding Wombies.

I suggest using at least six of these search terms in your next writing endeavor. Obviously these are my people. They can be yours too.

No need to thank me. My job is to be a ray of sunshine in your rain clouded Word program of brain storms.
You’re welcome.

~Miss R 

Short Note: Poems in the Key of…

You may have gotten an email earlier in the day, with a link to a post written this morning. After 5 minutes of being ‘public’ I changed it to ‘private.’

To my surprise there was a comment from a wonderful empathetic writer. Her words caused me to reconsider the public publication of the post A Poem in the Key of Depression.

Please check out her blog at Tales From the Motherland. She’s won a Freshly Pressed and is a fellow Carnie. Hell, can’t beat that with a stick. Well you could. you’d look like a cretin, but you could.

So if you’re interested, the most recent post on YoYo-Dyne is live.

A-Z for April: Two’fer Monday

I blame this interaction with humankind on Red from Momma’s Money Matters. She is the only high-heeled-wielding-wench evil enough to get yours truly to go forth amongst the the huddled masses with regularity. Retaliation shall be fierce and swift. Well maybe not swift, I have to vacuum the cat, comb the lawn and finish laundry.

April fools! No really it is the second….Shit. Gotta do it. Someone has to. That someone is me. which brings me to ‘A‘ which stands for asshole…. but also alcoholic.

So here are two two two posts in one. From A to B. To paraphrase Dorothy Parker, A to B runs the gamut of my lexical skills.

April 1st. “A

A is for Alcoholic:

My Alcoholic Friends by Dresden Dolls:

Which Brings us to April 2nd. B.”

Pretty close. My alcoholic friends play in Burning Band and attend Burning Man. Many are uber famous…but behind the scenes of our respective industries. Or in front. No one gives a shit what you do in the ‘real world’ in Burning Band. Can you play ‘In Heaven There is No Beer?’ How about ‘Down by the Riverside’? All in B flat? You’re in!

Burning Band Alcoholics

What you are not seeing in this picture is are the other 50+ members of the band and our –beer wagon-. We also have Burning Band Standard Bearers with the band’s name. Said Beer Wagon is decorated with our logo, private stash, extra reeds, banjo/guitar strings,drum sticks, kazoos, ice, rolling papers and is akin to a ‘tip jar’ on wheels. At Burning Man no money is allowed. It is a total gift /exchange economy. Tips are always fun and definitely unusual…and useful.

Being a Band member has never been so Bitchin’. Have video of Burning Band but hell if I know how to upload it. Any help is welcome. It’s a .wmv and on my FB.  Too long since I’ve done a website with video….that wasn’t Flash.

Oh, Here’s a small picture of the famous Little Black Dress Parade: Hosted by Spanky’s Wine Bar and led by Burning Band. Ah the days when we were one camp….Burning Band. Find the Piano Wench

Whew two days down. A shitload to go. I’ll get you Red…..

~Miss R