1. Oh. Man. Why the hell am I incapable of putting a book down until the wee hours of the morning? Why can’t I just get to a new chapter, tuck a corner, and go to sleep like normal people? Four and a half hours of sleep and I am paying for it today. I’m going to see if I can find my wits somewhere in this hazy morning brain fog. I need one of these things maybe. Or maybe one of these.
2. Cedric Wilson’s baby mama went apeshit in his house, as you know. I just wanted to point out something else I’m going to hell for laughing at:
In seeking the court order, Wilson wrote that he left his residence after an argument and that Paulat, 26, of Fawn later called him, saying, “I have a gun and am going to shoot myself.” She later called him a second time and said, “I shot the gun but missed my head,” according to the order.
Boy, are you a bad shot if you can’t even aim well enough to shoot yourself in the head. Crazy bitch.
3. Mike Tomlin is sticking by every single one of his assistants. That includes whatever stupidhead is running the Special Teams of Suck … oh, wait, I got a name: Bob Ligashesky.
Tomlin said it doesn’t matter what critics say about the need to hire new assistants because the coaches who are in place have proven to him they can do the job they were hired to perform.
So, stop asking, Tomlin said, because what you see is what you’re going to get.
“A lot of people don’t want to hear that. A lot of people like to finger-point,” Tomlin said. “A lot of people want change for the sake of change.”
I don’t want change for the sake of change. I want change for the sake of not sucking in my breath in dread every time a member of the Special Teams places a toe on the grass. That’s a feeling of doom if I ever felt one.
4. Bengals fans just really cannot take the offseason, can they?
I went to the 06 Bengals/ Steelers game in Pitt, and my question was answered. The women there looked more like Terry Bradshaw than Teri Hatcher. I could tell that one would be hard pressed to find 10 women under 30 whose stomach wasn’t coverd with C section and harpoon scars. Oh well you always have Steely! Stay classy Pittsburgh.
But then someone went and posted some pictures of hot Steelers chicks. But then someone else went and posted some pictures of not so hot Steelers chicks.
Not so hot at all. Like a Jeff Reed nightmare.
5. Oh, Lukey. Are you really that dumb? Or did you maybe just stay up too late reading and couldn’t fight your way out of the fog?
6. Artist Nick Cave’s “Soundsuits” are on display here in the Burgh and most of you look at these things and say, “Cool!” but there has got to be a few of you, like me, who look at them and go, “Hello, my next nightmare where I’m being chased. I guess I’ll be seeing you and the pigeons tonight.”
Also, Art Critic Mary Thomas?
To see one of Nick Cave’s enchanting “Soundsuits” is to feel a presence. To stand in the company of a dozen of them, as one may do at the Society for Contemporary Craft, is to understand the vastness of possibility — that of fantasy, of metaphor, of what one person can conceive — and, essentially, of the ebullient energy that feeds life itself.
But what sets them apart is that they are, further, objects of ritual, like those that appear in the rites of indigenous peoples, wherein the clothing becomes indistinguishable from the entity referenced. In this respect, they are instruments of empowerment.
It makes sense, then, that the Soundsuits arose from an incident that epitomized disempowerment and transmitted fear. And it speaks to Cave’s magnanimity and insight that they transcend such dark realms, moving like fairy-tale beings in and out of that limbic zone that straddles experience and imagination, the threatening and the benign.
Holy crap, lady. My brain is way too foggy to be reading such a verbose review. It is far too early and too 2008 for me to be reading sentences like that.
Can I just get a thumbs up or thumbs down from you on this? Or, to reference the Carbolic movie reviews, how many breasts would you give the exhibit?