What a drag...
Care to guess who this winsome lass might be? Yep, that's me in drag. Before you jump to any conclusions, be aware that this was for the office costume gala from several years ago. It caused quite a sensation and I won first place (I think I got $50). It was pretty sure-fire... gone was my long standing facial hair and I did the best I could with my wardrobe and make up, with the help of my wife. It was fun, and please note that I have never (knowingly) worn any women's clothes before or since.

Why do I bring up this bit of self-humiliation? Well, I heard that one of our party gals got out of phony rehab... I believe it was Britney. Somewhere back in the nineties I saw something on MTV... it was some clip of a girl talking about how she had rocketed from coffee-house guitar strumming to three minutes of fame in a video, all because she was a comely lass. These were the days of Jewel and Sheryl Crow -- genuine talents in my book, but it was clear that looks mattered. I was a forty-ish guitar strumming goofball in coffee houses now and then, so I came up with the following, which seems more relevant than ever. It got a laugh or two. (Please note: I don't like poetry on blogs, but this is for a special occasion. Celebrities don't get out of rehab every day... or do they?)

Pretty Girl
I used to wanna be a British rock star,
what a charming bloke I thought I'd be.
But that was then and this is now,
and all that glam seems so seventies.
Who wants to live in yesterdays?
It's an ever changing world.
Now I have one ambition,
to complete my mission,
I should be a pretty girl!

Yes you heard me right,
I wish I may I wish I might,
someday be a pretty girl.

And not just any girl mind you,
but one with a voice clear and high.
An octave or two, yeah that oughta do
and if I really really really really try,
they'll put me on MTV,
and I'll be on top of the world.
I'd have what it takes,
I'd get all the breaks,
if I was a pretty girl.

And I'd offer all the wisdom that four years
of high school can bring.
In my mini-skirts, protesting my hurts,
every time I sing
about all my magnificent lovers,
none of whom has a clue.
Ah they're not the best,
but never-the-less
I'd have a better love life
than you or you or you!

Oh it's not a change in wardrobe that I need,
no wig, no shave has the ability.
No surgeon's knife can change my life,
and give me wondrous fertility,
and make the world my oyster,
and me the loveliest pearl.
Is it too much to ask, too great a task,
for me to be a pretty girl?

Yes you heard me right,
I wish I may I wish I might,
someday be a pretty girl.

© 1998 Dan Thomason

Why?

Someone recently pointed out that my blog entries are getting shorter. That's probably because my days are generally clones of each other, except when there's an occasional knifing on my porch. I was pretty fired up about some political issues a while back, but after the election I really tried to quit thinking about all of that. Unfortunately the campaigns have to go on continually now, so the politicians can't even take a breather before they start getting in our faces again.

Also, I was having trouble with this new version of Blogger. I used to write my entries in Wordpad offline, and then paste them in. But it used to underline all of the type for some weird reason, although that seems to be fixed now. I still have trouble putting my little pictures where I want them though.

Oh well, nothing remains the same. It's mostly innovation for its own sake, I think. Software is the worst -- having to deal with various versions that don't do anything much better than the previous, except complicate things. Packaging designers are next. My last tube of toothpaste turned out to have some bizarre squirting mechanism that put a pretty little squirt of alternating green gel and white toothpast. That was fine for a while until it could only pinch out curly little ribbons of green. I think it needed a colonoscopy.

A Correction or Two
Yes, a six person knife fight would be quite a brawl. That was early and inaccurate info. Actually it was one guy who went after three others with a butcher knife. One is dead, one is in critical condition, and one is recovering. The guy with the knife is in jail. Also, our neighbor had nothing to do with it, but apparently they had been doing some painting in her apartment so her windows were open. She had the misfortune of having a front row seat to the mayhem. She moved out the next day.

What A Morning!
I was waking up and checking out the local news, when I heard the reporter at some situation mention my address. She was right outside the apartment building somewhere reporting on a murder. I threw on a hat and coat and went outside to see what was going on. I expected to stroll out to the parking lot and observe the news people doing their thing. I was met with the shocking sight you see here. A couple of investigators stepped out of the apartment next door and we conversed briefly (me: when did this happen? he: about midnight, you hear anything? etc). Mike had to be escorted out by a Policewoman.
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I didn't hear anything... I was awake and watching TV at the time. I guess it was a pretty quiet knife-fight. Apparently it was three against three, and they managed to get blood all over the place and down the walkways. One guy's dead, and another in critical condition.
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A few months ago someone else was fatally stabbed down on the first floor, not far from us. It was a couple of cousins who had gotten liquored-up at Hooters, then who knows what happened, but one of them ended up with a knife through his chest.
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Ironically, we were pretty pleased with these neighbors... they were quiet anyway. Just goes to show you.