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Sunday, April 25, 2010

Ode To Shannon (Woolfe) & Spring

April 25, 2010: I don't know why I like Shannon Woolfe so much, but I do. Perhaps I feel she's one of the few people who understands me (although a lot of that's probably just my imagination). Perhaps I just like her name, (despite the flagrant misspelling), or the recurring image I have of her staggering angrily out onto her porch in the middle of the night to scare away rednecks by bellowing, "Can I help you?!" in a real yocal dialect.

Whatever it is, I wanted to take a moment to celebrate her, and acknowledge her worth ...

Okay, good. Now let's move on. I also wanted to talk about spring flowers, in particular the lilacs I pirated this evening. They're currently filling my bedroom with their lofty sweet scent, and believe me, my bedroom never smells this good.

Spring flowers like these are just good enough to eat, and in fact almost look edible when I'm in the right mood. I've never tried them, of course. I'm not some kind of weirdo. But is it wrong for a writer to fantasize about such things? (Many of you would say Yes, and that's why I withhold Blah-ugh entries (or are they really entrails?).

Anyway, the point is, spring is here, and women are in heat. (I see it all over, though I try to politely pretend I don't.) Men apparently go into heat in the fall, when the autumn temperatures cool their testicles. (I'm not making this up!) But spring is when all our feminine sides comes blossoming out, like so much lavendar in a smelly sash. Isn't that why we have spring? Be honest. You ladies know more about this than I do!

I could go on, because like Bobby Troop, my heart is full of spring. But I'm thinking that I have to shower and shave, too, and I want to watch the end of "Invasion of the Body Snatchers" -- the masterpiece one with Donald Sutherland, which I've seen 10 times but still never tire of.

Someone remind me to write a review of it soon. (Shannon, if you remember.) I've got to go and put my balls on ice.


  1. if my husband would let me have a gun, i wouldn't have to bellow at intruders, i could just shoot out one of their headlights and that would probably get the message across much more effectively.

    more thoughts on all of this, the lilacs, women in heat, Invasion of the Body Snatchers, and the ice will come later.

  2. Strangely, when I was young and comely, Springtime found me somewhat forlorn. Now I am a raddled old crone, however, few things are more likely to induce me to hurl off my clothes and cavort and frolic amongst the burgeoning blossoms. Perhaps that pervy old D H Lawrence was on to something after all

  3. Its later, so as promised, more thoughts: my grandmother had a favorite horse named Lilac Time.

    The best Donald Sutherland movie might be Eye of the Needle, or it might be MASH or it might be Klute, but Body Snatchers is definitely the best Sutherland film.

    Now what's all this about Women in Heat? Are they stalking you? We need more detail. And this bull about men going into heat in the fall due to dropping temperatures—you know as well as I do that men are glad for any love they can find, no matter the season or the temperature. Which brings me to the ice . . .

  4. Lilac Time is a beautiful name for a horse. Lilac Time sounds like it belongs somewhere people might be sipping Mint Julips.

  5. Oh, and here's Mr Lawerence on springtime: is it a meadow or an orgy, we ask ourselves?: "And primroses were broad, and full of pale abandon, thick-clustered primroses no longer shy. The lush, dark green of hyacinths was a sea, with buds rising like pale corn, while in the riding the forget-me-nots were fluffing up, and columbines were unfolding their ink-purple ruches…" Even the chickens are described as running around lustily.

    I won't even quote the passage from The Rainbow about the rhubarb because it's just silly.

  6. Actually, Mizz Glee, there is a movie called Lilac Time (1928) -- i think it would appeal to you, its a romance with many aviators.

  7. That sounds delightful. You can never have too many aviators, in my book. Or aviatrixes. Not if propellors are involved.

  8. Jarret, this article appealed to my reproductive side. I wanted to cover my naked body in lilacs and cavort in a public place.