Think about how brilliant this is, and how difficult it must have been! This video for “Hibi no Neiro” (Tone of everyday) by Sour was done entirely via the webcams of fans. It's so pretty and fabulous and clever that I thought I had to share.

http://www.flashcardexchange.com/tag/Japanese

WOWEE! I was goofing around with my school's blackboard system, just messing with stuff, you know...I like to mess. And I found a few really cool, nerd-type sites. The one above, of course, for Ms. Rabbit...who is taking some time off of her japanese studies, but might like some very nice flashcards, just to keep her on her game? Other things they have...well what don't they. There are flashcards for everything! I found them through a service called Scholar, which I didn't even know existed. I must play with this bizness.

Now, I've taught that completly online course for Western, and I've incorporated a lot of web components into my course, but I think I'm going to amp it up a bit more this fall, for my benefit as well as the students' benefits. I don't know if the rest of you are facing this, and I'm sure I've complained about this ad nauseum, but my students are some of the most computer UN-savvy people I've ever met. They have the skill level of retirees who email their grandchildren and have to call a clever nephew to ask how to attach a picture. I'm disappointed e-generation! The truth is, I would love them to know more about computers and databases and internet gadgets and whatnots than I do ...and they should know more! They should, my freshmen were born in (WAIT FOR IT) 1991!!! So, by the time they entered Kindergarten it was 1996, the internet was in full-effect at that point, email was a regular and common thing. So, as far as I can tell there is little excuse for the lack of knowledge they have about computers and resources. And yet...and yet...and yet...wow.

When I was in middle school I took a course called "keyboarding" which taught me not only how to type on the computer, but how to use a word processing program and how to do some basic DOS navigating and programming. This was in 1986-87. And yet, when I entered high school (even at CAHS...let's just ignore the fact that in 1992 at Canal Winchester there were exactly 3 computers in the whole school--one in the office and two carefully locked away by the librarian) there were no computers or computer courses. I took typing at CAHS on an electric typewriter...a room full of electric typewriters clacking away, and us with our little pencil shaped erasers and onion skin and white out and transfer paper! Why the fuck didn't anyone get their ass together enough to realize that no one was ever going to use an electric typewriter again? This was a college prep sort of school, and the only computers were locked away in the "computer room" and bogarted by the same group of 10 pale and pasty rejects playing D and D during their free periods. But, I had taken time to learn the stuff on my own. I still am. It's the middle of summer and I'm all..."I wonder what updates they've made on our blackboard system?" And "I hope I can incorporate some multimedia resources and links!"

But my students? Who apparently, despite the fact that colleges run on computers and businesses run on computers and even the fucking DMV runs on computers...do not know how to set up an email account!! They do not know how to attach their paper when I ask them to. They do not know how to do anything other than download music, copy and paste the abridged, "free peek" essays from paper mills into their research papers," and play around on social networking sites. That's it. The smarter ones consider wikipedia a valid resource for information and might...MIGHT know that google earth is kinda nifty because there are nude beaches. They don't know that there is real research and real information out there. They don't know that a clever person can find anything...ANYTHING! (Yesterday I helped Roy, who is fairly computer savvy, find a very trickily hidden resource and post it to his blackboard pages.) Problem with your car? Look it up, watch a video on how to replace/repair/whatever (yes, I have). Can't read Japanese? Locate all the fangirls who fanslate for you because they want to share their passion with others (they just want someone to talk to about what they've read...I'm totally there for them). Do you need a copy of an obscure 18th century compendium of oddities? It's there, beautiful and lovely in all of its grotesqueries...spilling out to whomever would like to see it. Wanna draw pretty pictures at two am? I sure do. Wanna rant to your friends far away when you should be doing dishes? I AM! Need a recipe for bananna bread later? Need to know how to prune an azalea? Need to find a grant for your weird project? WE'VE GOT THAT! But the students...the kids who should be able to find it and access it...can't. What the fuck do they do all day if they aren't playing on the internet?

And if they're not playing on the internet, then why do they have such cool hand-held internet access?

Click the pic to go to the flickr page and see more.

Look what I found!!! I thought I had lost it.

---

Ode To a Pic of Nuge

“When in doubt, whip it out” – Ted Nugent

I
Thou still unrepentant groom of forestry,
Thou foster child of gun club and Fred Bear,
Sylvian masticator, who canst thus express
a savage mood more sweetly than our rhyme:
What leaf-fringed camo haunts about thy shape
like diety or mortal or both
in woods of upper, lower Michigan?
What god like man is this? What rock star loathe?
What mad pursuit? What struggle to escape?
What guns and arrows? What wang dang sweet poontang?

II
Processed game is sweet, but those unshot
are swifter: therefore ye wild game, run on;
not from the carbide grip, but, more endeared,
pace to the spirit of pursuit;
fair Nuge, beneath the trees, thou canst not leave
thy blind, nor ever can those woods be bare.
Bold Hunter, never, never canst thou kill
though reaching for the bow – yet do not grieve
the mark shall not fade, though thou hast not thy shot
forever wilt thou aim and deer be there.

III
Ah, happy, happy bow! that cannot miss
the shot, nor ever bid the shieve adieu;
And, happy rock god, unwearied,
For ever rocking out, forever groove:
More happy Nuge! More happy, happy Nuge!
For ever warm and still to be enjoyed,
For ever panting and forever young;
All breathing human passion far above,
that leaves a heart high-rocking and cloyed
a burning soul and dry mouth.

IV
Who are these groupies coming to your worship?
To your green altar, O mysterious priest,
Leads’t thou that white buffalo made of paper mache
across a bitchin stage, with lights aglitter?
What little Michigan town near autumnal woods
or grand Cabela’s dost thou scamper through,
emptied of its quaint and furry animals?
Little town, thy woods and fields forever more
will silent be; and not an animal to tell
why thou art desolate, can e’er return.

V
O Adonis shape! Bold Mullitude! with breed
of hos and roadies overwrought,
with forest animals and cashed pipe;
thine silent form dost tease us out of thought
as dost thine artistry: it’s a free for all!
When old age shall this generation waste,
Thou shalt remain, in midst of other woe
Than ours, a friend to all, to whom thou sayst
“Kill it, and Grill it!” – that is all
Ye know on earth, and all ye need to know.

TODO(ne):

1. Paid off my Jeep today, it is now officially mine. How long before it breaks down? I'll give it a month. (Please let it be something I can fix.)(Jesus is always breaking my things.)

2. Dropped off some work today. I hate errands. Also, I hate old white ladies (I said it!) who feel like it's okay bombard me with "facts" about how Obama is ruining the nation, blah, blah blah...in the post office line. AND if someone looks at you with a creased "you are a crazy person" face, and only responds with a "huh"-sneer. Why do you keep talking? Who does that? It must be nice to assume that everyone agrees with you. Here's what was assumed of me: 1) I'm a stay at home mom (she asked me if the kids were out of school yet), 2)I'm a republican (obviously...why? Am I putting out republican vibes, because if so, I am VERY upset), 3) I have never been anywhere (she keep telling me about states she had visited), 4) I am the type of person who would write a letter to CBS (or something) about how offensive it was for David Letterman to talk about Sarah Palin's daughter (fuck that! I wanna talk shit about Sarah Palin's daughter...I bet I could be WAAAAAY more offensive than boring David Letterman), 5) that I'm uneducated ("college isn't for everyone right? Well, no it's not, but it WAS for me.), 6) that I'm religous (I like your Jesus alright, but he can't help with a fastball...hahahah). What outward signifiers made her believe these things. Someone tell me, because I am super bothered that someone would assume these things. Of course when I pulled out in front of her she got a good look at my Obama sticker, so...nyah. Take that old white lady!

3. I built a trellis. Also, I got blackberry thorns all in me.

4. New idea: I should learn to wear shoes.

What's left? Stuff. And junk. Dishes mostly. Also I dunno.

Other gripes of the day:
1. Why can't I be a samurai? I would be really good at it. (Also, I love Akira Kurosawa...love...him.)
2. I'm not hungry, but I feel I should eat something.
3. What the hell, wisteria? Don't make me cut you!
4. If I miss my turn while I'm driving I find another way to turn around, often this means going out of my way...it is inconvenient, but ultimately my problem (I should have been paying attention). Why don't other people do this? Rather than inconvenience themselves they tend to BLOCK TWO LANES OF TRAFFIC ("Oh, shoot, I meant to take a left, not a right.") and inconvenience multiple people. BAH!
5. QVC or HSN...whatever...continued below.

---

QVC (or HSN) WTF? Part II (abridged):

Porcelain dolls are creepy...they are NEVER cute, precious, or "divine." And I now have proof that Marie Osmond is a racist. Thank you QVC (or HSN). Who BUYS THIS STUFF?? (This stuff: http://www.charismabrands.com/Marie_Osmond.aspx )

Also: CREEPLES!


I guess at least the doll doesn't have teeth?

QUESTION FOR Y'ALL: Why is it that when it comes to dolls the intentionally creepy is always beautiful, but the intentionaly beautiful is always creepy?

And if that isn't good enough:

I'm bored...bored. I know, I know, only boring people are bored. But I'm boring, and I'm bored.

I found myself flipping through the channels and thinking, I wonder what crap they're selling on HSN/QVC...whichever, because I don't know the difference, but here's the deal:

What the fuck good is a "butcher-block style kitchen cart" that is "not to be used for food preparation?"And what is it made from? I suspect that the butcher-block is made from the wood of the a highly poisionous "killyouberry" bush, or is varnished with lead, strychnine and arsenic. What makes it not for food preparation? If you prepare food on it will you be completing an ancient blood ritual that brings on the end of the world? Is the wood itself it inhabited by demons? Was it harvested on a full moon after the sacrifice of 100 uncircumsized and unbaptized baby boys? WHAT EVIL DOES THIS "BUTCHER-BLOCK STYLE KITCHEN CART" HOLD? Or is it simply decorative for people who don't cook, but would like to pretend they do? Either way...EVIL!

I have some other suggestions for items they might sell:

1. A couch that is for decorative purposes only, not designed to support human weight (made of balsa wood and tissue paper).
2. Gem Sweaters woven from the wool of satanic sheep and encrusted with bugle beads sewn on by dark priestesses, which will melt the skin of all who dare to wear it (hail satan?).
3. A crockpot that heats with radiation.
4. Lead pacifiers and teethers for fussy children.
5. Home gyms designed to hold laundry rather than be used as a home gym (actually, scratch that, everyone does that already, right? Too useful.)
6. Customer's choice of either teflon coated maxi pads, or extra sticky adhesive maxi pads (both sides).
7. Weed seeds for unlush gardens.
8. Luxurious horse hair comforters.
9. A brand new laptop that only has room for minesweeper, but looks really good.
10.Snuggies with cult-symbol embroidery options.

I should be an executive.

So I get an email from my Appalachian Studies Association mailing list...a really great guy from one of the Mountaintop Removal activism groups sends information on a movie coming out about (The Dancing Outlaw) Jesco White's family, who live in Boone, WV, called "The Wild and Wonderful Whites of West Virginia."

Here's a clip:


The email I got was calling on a protest of the film because it DOES paint a fairly negative and stereotypical portrait of Appalachia (a region already alientated by negative stereotypes), but I'm not sure...I think I need to see it?

It's interesting that this is a documentary, an MTV film, and produced by Johnny Knoxville (who is himself an Appalachian, obviously...really...even if I didn't know this, I'd know this!), and promoted by Jackass. I don't know that it's good or bad, but it is "interesting."

http://www.jackassworld.com/wildwhites

Is it good or bad to expose this family? Is it honest about the trouble with Appalachian acceptance of their own stereotypes? Will it use comedy to illuminate the poverty and sorrow and small triumphs? Will it look beyond what's worth ridicule by mainstream culture to see something lovely and honest, yet dangerous and fractured, about Appalachia and its people? OR will it just be a "Goddamn, those fuckers are stupid," sort of deal? The assumption is that it will be a poking fun, without a heart. I don't know that the assumption is correct.

I understand the waryiness. I certainly can rip apart my cultural heritage more vehemently than outsiders at times, but it doesn't mean I don't see the beauty of where I come from. I'm inside it (at least halfway at all times), and I certainly get pissed when someone "outside" looks in and tells me, or others like me, that there's something wrong with all of us. I think that in-group/outsider division is very evident, and very sensitive for a lot of us. Some critic said that "Appalachia is to the South what the South is to the rest of the country...backwards and less than." West Virginia is a very, VERY strange place to the rest of the nation. It's the only state that is 100% Appalachian (since Appalachia is a region that crosses state boundaries). There are places in West Virginia in particular that are so far removed from what we are taught is "normal" for America, and American culture. But it's not "abnormal" it just grew differently? It had to be populated by people who could stand the hardships of the region. Place is so important to identity, it's the basis of everything. I'm not from West Virginia (though per't-ner't), but I know these people. These people are mine. And I can laugh at them, and be judgemental...but I don't know that I'm okay with everyone else doing it. Not because it's not funny (and sad, and wonderful, and sweet, and sheltered, and isolated, and full of love and woe), but because not everyone will LOVE IT depsite the negatives. I will always love it despite the negatives; I can't not, though I've tried. And I do get defensive, because ridicule of my culture always seems to be "okayed" by everyone. Like we somehow deserve it, and our problems are not a product of birth or region or inheritance or culture.

So, maybe (what I'm hoping) is that the love will be there through whatever is depicted. I really hope it's not just a way to sneer and act judgemental. I'll keep my fingers crossed.

Just as Michiganders love their Faygo Rock n' Rye (shudder), and Ohioans (at least my Southern Ohioans) love their Big Red (yes, look it up), Carolinians (of both North and South varieties) love cheerwine. Which tastes, like redpop. Rock n' Rye tastes like redpop. Big red tastes like redpop. They all taste like...redpop. Which I don't like (I think I OD'd on Big Red when I was a preteen).

The advantage cheerwine has on other kinds of redpop? It's slogan, which is the best slogan I've ever seen in advertising:

Cheerwine: It's a softdrink.

And, yes, it is.

Roy and I got a call from a cemetary today. Apparently, the economy is even affecting the afterlife? Ah, not even the dead are dying to do business (ba-duh-cha!). But it did spark some interesting ideas in our house.

Idea 1 (Roy's)- What if we made a hobby of buying tombstones for ourselves, and then when we died we could put them all up on our little plot of land? (Installation Art)

Idea 2 (Mandie's)- What if we made a hobby of buying cemetary plots all around the country, and then we could own acres of land in small increments? (Landowners!)

Idea 3 (ours)- What are we supposed to do if one of us kicks it?

My plan should Roy kick it:
- suicide watch!
- cutting off his hand to keep as a mummy hand (I don't think this is legal)
- And what do I do with the rest of him?
- Selling everything except what will fit in the jeep.
- Bruce and I move far away and hide from the world because we hates it!

Now, should I kick it, it's both easier and more difficult...yes, simultaniously. Someone must figure out how to turn my skull into a candy dish. Also, someone must figure out how to feed the rest of me to sharks (that's recycling). Those are hard things. Easy things are--Roy should be okay after a period of mourning. Do not call him or talk to him to ask him "how are things?" He will get annoyed. That's a fact. Leave Roy alone. He'll find a nice girl and all will be well.

(I of course will be ranting somewhere in the backwoods, and/or running around nekkid and dirty with my dog.)

---

I might be doing that anyway soon. Roy leaves for 2 weeks tomorrow. Sad Mandie. Sad, sad Mandie.

---

Side note: why is it that facebook sometimes posts that I post things to lj, but sometimes not? Is it just fickle, or is there some secret that I don't know?

On Websoup they showed a clip of "Cake Farts" so, of course, I look it up...goddamn it! God damn it.

I had to look at 10 pages of cuteoverload to rid myself of the image.

Don't do it.

In case you didn't know:
Unicorn trumps Goat.

That's a fact.

(And I will be making it into a t-shirt, fo sho.)





UNICORN TRUMPS GOAT!

Dear friends,

Sorry for my absenteeism. Also, I don't have anything serious to post about...which makes me a dirty, filthy, liar-mouth (dirty, dirty, bad).

Here's what's happening right now in my life: D is walking to the store to get buns for bratwursts, R is watching MadTv and drinking coffee. B is crawling underneath furniture to mope. I am sitting at my desk (which is why B is moping) posting to lj instead of working on poems/appalachian lit essay for submission/novel/cleaning the house/weeding. I kind of have to pee. My hammock got rained on, as did my tomato plants. I have a pile of library books that's 1/2 meter deep to read (hooray). It's a slightly-less-sticky 81 degrees outside. I have this

Decemberist's song in my head. And, I am considering a bologna sandwich (something which is more common than rare).

And here's what's been crappening (a la listem):

1. Roy had a reading in Kzoo last month at the Kalamazoo Book Arts Center, in Park Trades. What a great event, and a great venue. The Book Arts Center is the COOLTH! I have a sick envy of the people involved. It's a beautiful space for people to work in print making, book making, typesetting, etc. Jeff Abshear created a beautiful broadside of the three poets: Matt Hart, Gina Myers, and (my fav) Roy Seeger. It was a great reading.

2. Prior to reading, we were honored (and delighted) to attend the Second Annual Crawfish Boil at the home of Natalie Giarratano and Zach (Giarratano?? Hmmm...not sure about his last name...maybe?). It was fan-freaking-tastic. Mudbugs, Friends (including our fabulous lj-ers Blynn and Vicki), and surprises!

Here is a pic of them foxy ladies:


It was a convergence of loveliness. Cindy came in from Texas. Molly and Michael came in from Tennessee. Ms. Beth of the Zamboni Beths arrived from Illinois, as did Ms. Vick. I got to see many of my favorite Kalamazooians: Gina, Kori, Blynn, and many pals from the program.

Highlights of the weekend:
- Vicki and I broke Blynn's Guest bed.
- Lots of squeezes.
- Blynn got us drunk and kept us up all night.
- Crawfish yummies.
- Surprise Cindy delivery.

3. Post visit to Kzoo we journeyed to Roy's family in Detroit (ish), and spent a few days with the volks, eating good food and catching up. I love them in-laws.

4. Off to my family for a non-relaxing few days of what we like to call "hurryupandwait." I rekindled my love affair with Meijers over these few days by going there no less than 6 times. I bought ramen. I bought indian food. I bought organic facial products. I wandered, google-eyed at the beauty of a giant store that has not only a sense of decency towards its employees, but a sense of (dare I say it?? Shall I??) style? Now, I don't mean "style" in a fashiony sense, because certainly Meijer is guilty of carrying some heinous clothing and home decor, but "style" in a sense of identifyable and appreciable personality. The store is clean, it stocks things that are a cut above crap stores like (shudder, barf) walmart. Like good tortilla chips! Or, decent ramen noodles. Or lovely organic items. Almost attractive (for a box store) staples in the clothing department. Shoes not made of plastic (well, not all of them). Really, really, really, good produce. A fishmarket that seems like a fishmarket, rather than a freezer section and some sad looking thawed out shrimp. Slushies! I love Meijers. I would voluntarily donate a finger (I mean it!!) in exchange for a Meijers within convenient distance of my home. And yet, I live within walking distance of the prototype of the world's largest walmart--and refuse to go there for any reason. Blargh.

5. Poverty--We do-dilly-do what we must-illy-must. I got a contact back from Smarthinking, so cross your fingies. Roy's class is not filling, so cross your other fingies. I have had a few hits on my craigslist ad for editing/proofreading, etc. So, there's a couple of bucks in my pocket. I'm considering some etsy.com options (selling some crap I make, like some monkies??). But the biggest money bringer of the summer is the AP exam. Roy leaves on Thursday for Louisville, and I'm alone for 2 weeks. The AP only takes a week to grade, but he's heading up to his parents for a week to help them out with some painting. D leaves for his summer gig soon too. Bruce and I are all alone.
Here's what I plan for my slow descent into madness:
- work on my writing (I have a lot of stuff in the works)
- read a lot of books
- garden
- Bruce and Mandie park tour (in which we go to a park everyday)
- mending quilts
- watching anime
- eating foods Roy isn't fond of
- being sad

So, expect to hear from me during my isolation.

Well, that's about it. I've been doing a lot of little, blah, blah work...submitting to contests and conferences, getting things ready for the fall, being overwhelmed by my yard/jungle.

What's up with y'all?

This is very, very nicely done. It was brought to my attention by USCA's Unity Gay-Straight Alliance.

as with this Alien Quizzimeme, courtesy of excellist.


1. If aliens were invading, what would you do, hide or wait by your tv?

I suppose an alien invasion plan would be similar but not equal to a zombie apocolypse plan, so I would impliment zombie apocolypse rules. If, of course, the aliens blow up the world (why IS it they always seem so keen on doing that in movies? I suspect that real aliens would be either predator/alien types or basically benign...or ghosts. That's my theory...aliens would be ghosts...essentially), then whatever, because it's not like I'ma gonna survive it anyhoos.

2. The aliens have landed and they haven't blown the planet to bits. How would you react if they looked like us?

I would be especially surprised. That's impossible, in terms of probability statistics (god I'm a nerd).

3. What if the aliens were disgusting looking (like a pile of rotten cheese)? Then how would you react?

I would be super surprised. How does a pile of rotten cheese get here? I mean, is this super intellegent, quantum genius cheese? If it doesn't have some sort of tentacles or digits, or robot arms, then how does it build a ship/transporter? And if it does have robot arms, then how did it build the robot arms to start with? Which came first the robot arms or the robot arms to build robot arms? Now that's a better question!

4. The aliens are about to make an announcement and all communication goes out. Your neighbor says that he/she heard that the aliens are going to destroy earth. Do you believe him/her? Why?

No. Why would aliens make a tv announcement? "PEOPLE OF EARTH. 2 and 1/2 MEN IS NOT FUNNY! WE WILL NOW DESTROY YOU FOR LAUGHING AT IT!"

5. The aliens have announced that they will share their knowledge with humanity if a certain person has sex with one of them, and they call your name. To make it more palatable, the alien can change into any porn star you want. KNowing that your partner will find out if you say yes, will you do it?

Sure. Rocco Siffredi. As excellist said, most male porn stars only serve as further proof that porn is created for men. Otherwise, I'd have at least one gay scene for every five lesbian scenes in mainstream pornos. As far as I can tell, there is ONE decent, attractive male porn star, and that is Rocco Siffredi. He was even in a really interesting movie called "anatomy of hell/anatomie de l'enfer" He's hot, he's old, he looks like he's enjoying himself, he's Italian, he's a real actor AND the gays love him. I would totally bone a Rocco look alike for the good of humanity (or, really any other reason). You're welcome, humanity, you're welcome!

There once was a zombie from France
who didn't care to wear pants;
His junk went a danglin'
as them folk he went manglin'
and he ate up their brains just like that.

There was a young man named Paul,
who was kind and gentle to all.
The zombies they ate him
like yummy good bacon;
they gobbled him up bones and all.

There was an old zombie from Reno
who spent eternity just playing keno,
other zombies want brains
but she just refrained,
still wanting to win back a g note.

Greta from Northern Biloxi
had gumption and a whole lot of moxi,
when the zombies attacked
she always fought back,
but was eaten like bagels and lox-i.

OH, those sucked.

I am a card-carrying member of the Palmetto Tavern, the finest drinking establishment attached to a gas station along State Route 19 in Aiken, SC. A place where, for a cool three bucks you can drink a bottled Yuengling (they ran out of Killian's) AND tip the waitress, Amanda, for her skills. Amanda is a recently, partially de-indicated (missing part of her index finger...I don't know how, she didn't say). On any given night of the week the bar is crowded with eights or even nines of people, sitting around on sticky vinyl chairs. There's Bob, my sometimes boyfriend (he believes) with exactly as many teeth as letters in his name. There's Mike, who will sidle his wheelchair up to you as you sit in the tall booth and "accidentally" look up your skirt, or "accidentally" fondle your butt as he's ranting about how the educational system let him down, but he knew YOU were a good teacher. On Sunday nights (because who wants to get up and work on Mondays?) they have Karaoke. BUT, they just don't have Karaoke...they have the best fucking karaoke I've ever seen. The dj's song selection list is phenomenal; I've never seen anything like it. His system can alter pitch. IT CAN ALTER PITCH. So he told me that the Death Cab for Cutie song I sang one night could be pitched higher (I have trouble with the low notes, and if I go up an octave only dogs/dolphins will understand it...not that I can't hit those notes, try me). How awesome is that...not only does he HAVE over 12 songs by Death Cab for Cutie (and BTW like 25 by Crowded House...yes, "4 Seasons in One day"), he can change the pitch at request. Despite my overwhelming appreciation for this DJ's skills; I teach at 8 am. So, Sunday Karaoke is a special opportunity...the only time we went was during Spring Break, but it was fabulous. The bar was empty, except for like 4 other singers, all of whom were America's got Something or other material, and two drunken eyeliner girls (who I refuse to call "singers") who insisted that every Alanis Morrisette song was best expressed as an off-key duet..."nailed it!" (to my forehead...I think my ears were bleeding after the third song off of "Jagged Little Pill"). So, yesterday, I was psyched. Grades were in, I had emailed all my peeps (who apparently are not "my peeps" since they ignored my email), and Roy and I went out around 9:30 to get our "oke" on. I was in the car thinking, "Self, we should sing "Shambala." We walk into the fabulous(ly empty as usual) Palmetto Tavern and order some beers. I notice, that there is a girl, sitting at the bar in a rainbow, peace sign bikini, and I think, "Okay." It is, after all the Palmetto Tavern...center of all things slightly surreal (if you count ass-grabbing parapelegics as surreal, which I do). Girl in a bikini...whatever. As we sit at our, unfortunately, usual table, noticing that no one we know is there, and wondering if anyone will actually show up, I start to notice OTHER THINGS. For instance, near the pool tables is a buffet set up, with what looks like salad and a huge warming tray of something we assume is barbeque for happy hour. Nothing too weird in that, right? Then I notice the karaoke guy isn't in the dj booth setting anything up, crap! Then I notice that the girl in the bikini is now over where the coffee tables used to be, and she's dancing on a fucking pole. YES! SHE IS DANCING ON A POLE! And Roy and I lose it. I don't think I have seen Roy laugh so hard for so long in forever.

And I find myself torn between several different emotions:
1) that is the funniest fucking thing I have ever seen, 2) that is the saddest looking skinny no-titted girl dancing off-beat on a pole in an empty bar attached to a gas station in South Carolina I have ever seen, I'm embarassed for her
3) that is the most horrible, enormous tattoo I have ever seen on the saddest looking no-titted girl I have ever seen, what a shame
4) where is the Karaoke guy? I want karaoke, I'm mad,
5) for god's sake please don't let the people we invited out actually show up, then I will feel even more shame
6) for god's sake please let the people we invited out actually show up, no one will believe us
7) where am I supposed to look?
8) ZOMG! WTF! RUKiddingME?
9) This beer is good
10) I'm glad these chairs swivel
(admittedly the last two are less important, but I was thinking them, and I like round numbers)

To boil it down, I'm simultaniously entralled (hilarious)and mortified (oh noes).

As we sit there, Roy and I both trying to make some sense of our situation, the owner comes by and says "Hey, y'all, we got some Lasagna if you're interested." LASAGNA AND A POLE DANCER! And an old man (80ish?), in a short sleeved plaid shirt, goes and sits on the couch and watches the dancer where the coffee table used to be. LASAGNA AND AN OLD MAN AND A POLE DANCER!! And we both say "This is going into a poem."

Several minutes later, our friends from MI show up (yes, MI friends in SC...we commiserate), and nearly turn around at the door, because there's a POLE DANCER! AND LASAGNA! AND AN OLD MAN WATCHING THE POLE DANCER! And it turns out the bartender, who (being not the normal bar tender) has all of her digits, does not know how to make a slo gin fizz (which is, for y'all that don't know, 1) delicious, 2) something hookers from the 1970s drink, 3)really bright pink, 4)the least complex drink to create EVER, and 5)made of slo gin and 7 up). Which is upsetting, I think. And we spend the next 1/2 hour marvelling at the bar around us, whilst still lamenting the lack of karaoke, which, it turns out, is the result of the bar "losing money" on karaoke night (according to the owner who likes to talk to us). So, to drum up business they went the LASAGNA and POLE DANCING route...he's a business genius (you can tell because there are now nearly 10s of people in the bar, if you count the dancer and the bartender and the owner). And we're thinking, oh how we wish this night would get weirder, when in walks one of the English Honor's students from USCA, who recognizes Roy and stops at our table to say hi, just as the dancer is working her naughties for the old man to "Let's get it on" (so inappropriate). Soon after, a little old couple in their 70s comes in, and sits at the bar next to a few weekend mid-life bikers in their harley gear. The Mrs. is around 4 foot 8, I'd say, and she's wearing an absolutely adorable pink flowered sun dress, and she's got leg braces. WTF. And she and her adorably old Mr. go get a big slab of Lasagna and some salad as they drink their bottled beer at the bar. WTF. And at some point the dancer changes her clothes into another smaller bikini and resumes her lonely dance, because the old, old man who was handing her dollars had to head home (it was, after all, around 10:30...a late night). And after a few dances, she sits her sweaty thonged butt on a chair and talks on her cell while she chain smokes. And we all agree...WE NEED A NEW BAR.

The End.