Julie the Jarhead

Consolidation, of a kind

2011-11-04T08:20:00.001-07:00

To my legions of follower ... all four of you,

I have moved all my posts to http://www.juliekelleher.com/.

If you click either the above link or http://www.juliethejarhead.com/ , you will reach my site.

I've decided to combine them because the lines between my original writing and what I write about other things became blurred.

Thank you,
Julie 'the Jarhead' Kelleher

Miss Karen Carpenter ... stunning.

2011-04-03T06:57:00.001-07:00

Random Sunday morning stuff

2010-07-18T05:10:00.000-07:00

I won this Playbill on eBay yesterday. Plus, two minutes and seven seconds that will amaze you. -- Janet McTeer as Nora in Ibsen's 'A Doll's House' (1997). http://youtu.be/PNI_YfcJz3M

Zsa Zsa Gabor breaks hip in fall from bed. http://bit.ly/aAWhUi I like this lady, though I would not be able to tell you why. :o

Sunday morning radio: Enough of the acoustic crap. Time for Elvis!

I put movies in my Amazon.com shopping cart, not necessarily because I'm going to by them, but I do want to see them. I might wait till they're available at the library, or I may get them on Pay-Per-View. Latest: A SINGLE MAN (2009). Thanks, Landice & Krissy!

Welcome to Bristol City!

2010-04-07T05:51:00.000-07:00

For those still trying to figure out that British-rhyming-slang thing. (WARNING: Not safe for work AND very bad words.) http://bit.ly/d8AxLH

Various and sundries

2010-03-23T07:19:00.001-07:00

I really should do more with this blog.

For instance, I could write about how our government discourages hard work. Why bother making money when it's already misspent? "Always love your country, but never trust your government." (Robert Novak)

Or, I could write about how Richard Carpenter is trying furiously to establish his legacy -- which he has every right to do -- but does he have to do it by diminishing the legacy of his sister, Karen Carpenter?

Perhaps I could write about how Janet McTeer reminds me of the country of Iceland. Both are so beautiful that you can't help talking about them. But you're afraid that if you talk about them too much, too many people will find out about them and spoil the wonderment for you.

I could talk about how television is nothing more than cross-promotion. I'm sure you've noticed that most of the TV commercials are for other TV shows. And I'm sure you've noticed how award show hosts are picked based solely on the fact that their TV show is on the same network as the award show.

Or you can help me decide on a full-price smart phone, keeping my pay-as-you-go plan, or a two-years contract with the phone discount.

BIC = "butt in chair" or "Writers write."

In Praise of Men

2009-11-05T09:14:00.000-08:00

There's been a lot of male-bashing lately, mostly from people who are far from perfect.

It's fashionable. It's encouraged by the all-men-are-pigs brigade, those who call themselves "feminists." There’s even a television channel devoted to the proposition that the entire male species is lazy, stupid, and greedy – the Lifetime Channel.

Baloney!

Men are wonderful creatures. Their tastes are simple and manageable. They are great for lifting and moving things. And when there's something to be fixed, they fix it – on one condition.

Men love sports and The Three Stooges.

Sports have rules, and the sooner you learn them, the sooner you can gauge when you can or cannot interrupt his viewing. In a nutshell, if there’s frenetic movement on the field, don’t interrupt. If there’s a commercial with a scantily clad female selling beer or cars, don’t interrupt. If the announcers have some lame D-list celebrity in the broadcast booth, your man is available.

Then there’s The Three Stooges. They’re funny – deal with it. Learn their names. There’s Moe, Larry, and Curly. After Curly, there was Shemp. After Shemp came Joe, the one no one likes. Finally, we have Curly Joe, who joined them in feature length films in the sixties.

The Three Stooges were masters of the eye-poke, the hair-pull, and funny noises. Their production teams were accomplished film editors who pioneered the use of the Foley (sound effects) machine.

Men are very handy when you need something moved.

Don't ask a woman to help you move. Do you think she bought that SUV to lug stuff? For women SUVs are little more than a symbol. "See, I can drive a big vehicle, too!"

If you want something lifted or moved, ask a guy. "Sure. I can come over. Just give me a call." Guys with trucks love to show you just how useful the truck is.

Even if a woman says she'll do something, don't count on it. "Sorry. There was a sale at Marshall's, and I just had to have that faux-fur-trimmed puffy coat, but I couldn't afford it at $20. I got it for $18!" You're supposed to be happy for her. Meanwhile, you still have three bags full of clothing you wanted her to help you take over to the second-hand store.

If she were a guy, the bags would be delivered, and that running toilet would be fixed, just because he could fix it. If a guy says he'll do something, he'll do it.

There’s one catch, ladies -- you have to ASK. If the garbage is getting skanky, most women will stand next to the can, tap their feet furiously, scowl, and maybe start to cry. Men are supposed to be mind readers.

Which reminds me – men cry when they’re sad or grieving. Women cry when they’re sad, grieving, mad, frustrated, afraid, angry, hurt, pre-menstrual, peri-menstrual, post-menstrual … you get the picture.

Yep, men are consistent, helpful, and eager to fix things. That’s why we love them.

Pathalogical liars and World Series predictions

2009-09-16T10:27:00.001-07:00

On a pleasant walk up Beacon Hill, I saw a gentleman of meager means. He held a sign which read, "I am a pathological liar. I need money for food, not beer." So I gave him a buck.

Walking through the Boston Common, I saw another down-on-his-luck gentleman. He's a regular in the Boston Common, always ready with the weather and a smile.

We spoke for a bit, and he's certain that if the Red Sox make the playoffs, they'll take the whole shebang. So I gave him a buck.

Now I have to send my sister Amy off to Las Vegas with a bet on the Red Sox.

Tomatoes rule!

2009-09-15T15:37:00.000-07:00

I just raided my landlord's garden and snagged all the ripe cherry tomatoes and one full-size tomato.

I must be on a tomato kick, cuz I also bought a slice of pizza from Pisa Pizza on the way home. I only had a cup of chicken noodle soup for lunch (plus a McD's shake and some sugar wafers, but we won't talk about those).

Work is picking up, but I still spent most of the day surfing the Web.

I'm all set for my Acting and my Opera 101 classes.

Let's see, what picture today? How 'bout Meffa native Julianne Nicholson:

You can't have too many Janet McTeer photos on your blog.

2009-09-15T04:33:00.000-07:00

Janet McTeer and Kimberly J. Brown (TUMBLEWEEDS). The photo is dated 1999, but it looks more recent.

No matter. Any photo of The Mighty McTeer with her arm(s) wrapped around a lovely lady is worth posting.

My co-worker is driving me crazy!

2009-09-14T15:04:00.000-07:00

Well, not really, but ...

She's a nice lady and all, but she spends ALL her time on the phone. If she's not talking to her husband or her son, she's talking to a relative about her husband or her son.

She was on vacation last week. So I come in today, and she's -- you guessed it -- on the phone.

If there's not any work, we can play on the internet. But even when there is work, she's still on the phone.

Grrrrr.

I'm with Serena Williams on this one.

2009-09-14T04:35:00.000-07:00

I think the line judge just wanted to cover up a questionable call. I find it hard to believe that a professional athlete would threaten someone -- in front of witnesses and and cameras. Plus, Serena did go to Kim Clijsters and congratulated her.

THE SECRET | mini-review

2009-09-14T04:22:00.001-07:00

I finally saw THE SECRET. I almost gave up on it; the first thirty minutes were painfully predictable. But I'm glad I stuck with it. Both Haydn Gwynne (presently on Broadway in the musical I refer to as BILLY IDIOT) and Stella Gonet were incredible. Even at the end, you're not really sure what happened.

MIDNIGHT MEAT TRAIN| mini-review

2009-08-10T05:12:00.001-07:00

MIDNIGHT MEAT TRAIN was OK. Lots of blood, but the camera work was too frenetic. Also, too dark. (Yeah, I know it was at night. Still too dark.) Predictable ending. Main character -- not very likable.

(Quickie reviews will go here. More detailed reviews will go on my movie blog: juliekelleher.blogspot.com)

New words you discover when you're over 50, Part 1.

2009-08-03T05:16:00.000-07:00

(From Wikipedia) Iliotibial band syndrome (ITBS or ITBFS, for iliotibial band friction syndrome[1]) is a common injury to the thigh, generally associated with running, cycling, hiking or weight-lifting (especially squats).

Finally figured out what was causing the strain on my iliotibial band -- the effin' bucket seats on my car. It started soon after my NYC/Mary Stuart adventure. Yesterday, on our way to my nephew Elie's horseback riding lesson, it really bothered me. So, I bought a Tush Cush on eBay. (Cheaper than replacing the bucket seats!)

Things that suck/don't suck

2009-06-25T13:34:00.000-07:00

UPDATE: I'm sorry that Billy Mays has passed away. He doesn't suck anymore.

Things that suck:

NPR
Loud TV pitch men
People who deliberately hurt animals
The MBTA (Boston transit system)

Things that don't suck:

Karen Carpenter
Lars and the Real Girl
Chocolate
All three of the AMICA Insurance spokes-ladies

Just my $0.02.

The Greatest Athlete Who Ever Lived

2009-03-20T10:58:00.000-07:00

(Originally posted June 3rd, 2007)

Let’s work this backwards:

First, let us eliminate all those athletes who’ve played only one or two sports.

Second, let’s eliminate all those athletes who’ve excelled in more than two sports, but it’s all track and field. I have nothing against track and field, but running is running, whether you run 1500 meters or 3000 meters. Besides, they’re all too skinny.

Third, eliminate anyone who, as part of their sport, has to wear make-up and smile. (I borrowed that one.)

Fourth, eliminate anyone whose uses an animal partner in their sport. Again, I love horses, and I love when a two-ton bull kicks a cowboy in the butt and sends him flying twenty feet.

Fifth, no one who weighs more than three hundred pounds is an athlete. Don’t agree? Picture a three hundred pound woman athlete and see if you still disagree with me.

Sixth, eliminate all Olympic athletes, since they’re all juiced. (Opinion only, but a strongly-held opinion all the same.)

Seven, while we’re at it, eliminate all those who’ve competed in the last, say, twenty years. (See above re: juiced.)

Who’s left?

Mildred “Babe” Didrikson Zaharias.

P.S. She gets extra points for:

A. Being female, which would put her farther down anyone else’s list;

B. Being from outside New York City, which would put her farther down most sportswriters’ lists; and,

C. Having an entry in the Internet Movie Database.