White Stripes

I just got back from seeing the White Stripes in concert.  It could very well be one of the best concerts I have been to; at least the best since Poison when I was in Jr. High. 

I learned more tonight than Jack White kicks ass on guitar.  I learned I should quit trying to take pictures at concerts with my cell phone.

image

Sadly, this is one of the best shots.  Those bright blurs are Jack and Meg White.  They are rocking out Ball and a Biscuit, but you can’t hear it, so it is lost on you. 

I guess what I am trying to say is, “you had to be there.”

This post blows chunks.  I would like to blame it on being drunk, but I did not drink at the concert.  It is not that I didn’t want to drink.  It is more a matter of laziness, the beer was to far away for me to keep walking and getting more. 

It is shameful when laziness gets in the way of debauchery.

Balls of Fury

image

I have mentioned at the old blog about my dangerous Sleeping Troubles.  I wish it were not so, but that does not stop the dangers to those around me when I am having a bad dream. 

I will jump up, talk shit, fling sheets or pillows, and as witnessed this weekend, cause bodily harm to those around me.

This past weekend my extremely gracious friends Bam and Mrs. Bam decided to drive to Dallas for a few days to check out possible business opportunities to bring back to the back water land of Mississippi.  Since the Bam Family also consists of a precocious 14 year old, she was brought along against her will.  Actually she was lured along by the misleading prospect of visiting many of the splendorous malls of Dallas.  She was not really informed of the strict “No Shopping” policy recently implemented by her totalitarian Father, Bam. 

An entire post could be written about the difficulties of dragging a fourteen year old girl and her hip, shop-happy Mother past an array of new and exotic stores, but I have digressed from my original story line:  My Violent Sleeping Disturbances.

We got a sweet deal on the Galleria Hilton in Dallas.  It is always an adventure when two star people get to stay in four star accommodations.  There were no immediately visible blood stains and the T.V. was not bolted down.  My only complaint was that said T.V. was too large to fit into the trunk of our automobile.  The staff was understanding, but possibly a little too trusting.  They never questioned us carrying it through the posh lobby, and the valet parking attendant did not complain when we asked him to take it back upstairs.

But still, I need to stay on point.  I Beat Bam in My Sleep Like He Owed Me Money.

The sleeping arrangements were simple; Bam and I in one queen size bed and Mrs. Bam and their daughter in the other.  This is the usual sleeping arrangements when I travel with the Bam Family.  I sneaked along on their Bahamian vacation, enjoying the all-inclusive resort with a fake arm band I made to resemble their’s.  Bam loves sleeping with a very large, hairy guy, or at least he used to.

We snuggled into bed, Bam and I.  Me reading the last Harry Potter and him trying to cling fervently to his 1/4 of the bed without falling out.  I finally managed to doze off, but kept dreaming about being in the dangerous wizarding realm of Harry Potter.  This was apparently giving me some fitful issues, because I would suddenly leap out of bed, half asleep, and after realizing I was dreaming, crawl back in to bed, thankful that no one was awake to see me act a fool.

I am not sure exactly what was occurring in the dream, but I was apparently under grave duress because I suddenly leapt out of bed with a luxurious pillow in each hand and began to pummel Bam with them like a two armed windmill attacking a slumbering giant. 

I estimate that I probably hit him a good half dozen times before waking up enough to remember it is poor etiquette to accost roommates with inanimate objects, no matter how downy soft or how high the thread count is. 

Upon realizing the error of my ways, I shamefully crawled back onto the bed.  Just as I was re-entering the bed, Bam yelled, “Are you crazy, what the hell are you doing?” I was on all fours with my head buried into the pillow, my weapon of choice, and just replied, “I am so sorry.  I owe you an apology for that one.” “You’re damn right you do.” is all he added before we both drifted back to sleep, as if nothing ever happened.

The next morning we were both up early and still in bed when I tried to explain what had happened.  We suddenly heard giggling from the next bed.  It seems Mrs. Bam was awake.  Bam asked her is she saw anything funny last night.  She just laughed and said, “Well, I heard a ruckus, looked over and saw Killer on all fours.  I was not sure what you two were doing, so I rolled over and went back to sleep.”

Bam was taken aback by this.  He said in an exasperated voice, “So, if Killer was raping me in the bed next to you, you would just roll over and sleep through it?” Laughing she replied, “I did not want to embarrass you guys.” She is a classy Southern gal, always thinking of others first.

It was discussed several times that day.  Bam managed to build it up more traumatically each time.  By the end, there were six pillows being swung at him and at least three of them were filled with oranges.  It seemed like he even developed a slight limp.  He is such a drama queen.

It is now almost midnight, and Mr. and Mrs. Bam go to bed at nine p.m.  I plan to sneak into their room and beat him senseless with a few pillows. 

I wonder if, once he is rudely awakened by another pillow assault, he can tell the difference in the high quality, posh hotel pillows and my cheap wal-mart pillows. 

I wonder how many nights I can do this before they kick me out of their house.  I will keep you informed.  Anyone have a spare bedroom?

Liquid ass and gold chains

I am still hung over. I’m not sure what time I got home last night/this morning, but I woke up on top of the covers, still clothed, with makeup on and contacts in. I’ve been sweating all day. I can’t concentrate for more than 2 minutes at a time. I barely remember the end of the evening. I keep having these flash backs of things I think I may have said or done. I’m positive that I punched one of our executives in the stomach, I just don’t know how hard I hit him. I know my profanity was colorful and loud. I don’t think it was necessarily cute or appreciated. I told a story to people I don’t know that well but work with that involved a stranger putting his hand in my crack. Yep. I actually crashed this party, which I was not invited to, and drank plenty on their tab. I then went to the “after party”. All bosses and me, the only woman. I may have called someone a pussy.

Last night I drank a lot of beer. So much beer in fact that I agreed to do shots. The first shot was some speciality “mess you up” shit from China. I now call it liquid ass, because I swear I think they ground up ass and liquefied it and put it in a bottle. It was AWFUL. A piece of my soul died when I took that drink. It was THE worst shot ever. EVER. sick

There were some good things that came out of last night. I heard the most redneck line I have ever heard uttered. I come from a long line of rednecks, so don’t take that statement lightly.

This dude, who is around 37, was talking about his former girl friend. He loved her much. So much, that when her tooth fell out (WTF?) he put it on a chain and wore it around his neck.

I can’t stop thinking about that. I imagine it to be a molar, but who knows?

It’s 11:45 Friday night and I think I’m sober. I haven’t drank all day that I remember. I’m staying pure this weekend. I have got to try that missing piece of my soul.

Welcome to the Blog Warming

I created Killer Rants, my first blog, in September of 2005.  I think I googled “free blog” and blogger.com popped up first.  I chose my favorite, of the maybe ten choices, in generic templates and Killer Rants was born.  Since then I added a few links and played with the font size, but otherwise left things unchanged. 

I slowly noticed most serious bloggers quickly changed their templates, spiced things up, or left blogger for greener pastures, but I was lazy and did not want to learn how to do any of that shit.

Not to long after Liz joined the team, she would occasionally suggest we change things up, maybe try something prettier.  It is easy for her to suggest such things, there was a complete expectation that I would make those things happen. 

I did not want to just half-ass it.  What is the point in changing from one Blogger template to a Blogger Beta template?  I wanted big, bold and amazing changes.  I wanted to be one of those really cool bloggers who has their own website.  No more low class “dot blogspot” for me.  We are free from the tyranny and oppression of blogger.  Never again will someone show up on my computer with a virtual gun and say, “switch to Beta or we kill your blog!”

Before I go any further I have to thank the little people who made all this possible.  My best friend, Clib, made the banner.  It was exceptionally hard since Liz and I were over 2100 miles apart.  I sent Clib a picture of me holding a caulk gun and Liz sent a picture holding a hair dryer.  I think he beat up a seven year old girl and stole her kitten, but that is off the record.

The really hard part was given off to Jester .  With the help of his pal, Dan, they pulled off a web design miracle.  I gave them really no guidance or insight into what we wanted.  I just sent them the banner and said, “make it kick ass.” I feel they did just that.

I will now take this moment to give you a quick tour of all the great features here.

The home page, as you have seen, opens as basically two blogs in one.  Me on the left and Liz on the right.  It gives a truncated version our most recent posts.  If you decide to are willing to follow through and read the rest, just click “read more”, it will also allow you to comment from there. 

In the upper left hand corner under “home” you will see “about killer rants” and “best of killer rants”, well it is pretty obvious what those are. 

Under that is “dual blog” that will change the site back to the normal blog design.  By that I mean it will just show which ever post is most recent, regardless of who posted it.

Jumping to the center, under our beautiful faces, is “more killer” or “more liz”.  Simply put, if you click either of these it will show just the posts by that person. 

“by killer’s toilet” and “on liz’s nightstand” are book’s we each are reading and/or recommend.

“on killer’s ipod” and “on liz’s 8 track” are musical picks. 

Easy enough?  We wanted to keep it simple, so feel free to click around and touch whatever you want.  Enjoy the new blog smell.  That will be gone soon enough, I have gas and Liz keeps lighting damn scented candles.

Our New Home

We at Killer Rants have been busy moving. I think I pulled a muscle in my back. At least that’s what I’m telling the doctor. It’s so hard to get a legal prescription for pain pills these days.

I like the new place. With a few throw pillows and some some soft alt-country playing in the background, it’s really going to feel like home. It may take me a while to figure out how to navigate this website. I’m still using two sticks that I rub together to light my cigarettes. You can imagine how pumped that makes my arms. Bending my typing fingers in a new direction can prove cumbersome. Please bear with me as I learn.

I caught you admiring our new banner. Nice, huh? Nice except for the little noticed fact that I look like I have club hands. That would make me great fun to take to sporting events. I’d always toss up my gigantic finger in the #1 sign. If any sports team opted to make their team color “flesh”, I’d apply for a job as mascot. I’d be a shoe-in. Costume ready.

I’m hoping that Killer will take the time to explain to you what all the little buttons over there and up yonder mean. I’d gladly do it, but some of the furniture isn’t placed right. I have my priorities straight. Killer does not. Already I’ve found his dirty underwear inside the refrigerator.  gulp

Jester, you and Dan did a fantastic job with the site. Me and my eleven fingers have never looked better. Thanks for all of your hard work. And thanks to you, too, blog reader, for coming to the house warming. I hope you’ll come back when you can stay longer. 

Next Page
 

Recent Comments

Subscribe to Killer Rants

Enter your email address:

Delivered by FeedBurner



Add to Technorati Favorites

Archives