Wild West Quizeeen, Hollywood Style

About a month ago, I pfinished a screenplay. A short subject. A dark, depressing story about tragedy, rage and revenge. You can probably tell by the attached pfotos, that it took place in the old west. (By the way, wish me luck with the PAGE awards). I know, doesn't sound like me at all, but yes I did write it. Aren't you proud of me? Some of you who are reading this read that, and I thank you. All 3 of you.

The story, about an abused wife and a monster of a husband, takes place for the most part in a little house on the prairie, well more like a two room shack. I'm sure you can already imagine what it looks like.

In one scene, the wife is cooking dinner and I tell of a "small pot of nondescript stew" boiling on the stove. I know you're thinking-"What is this crap, this is supposed to be funny! Why are you wasting my time? Well, why are ya?" -Shut up and keep reading, every good tale needs a little backstory.

After I wrote that, I wondered why I wrote it, and then I started thinking about all of the cliche western movies and tv shows we have all been spoon fed our entire miserable lives.

Of course, we have no idea what things were really like back then, but I'm pretty sure the whores didn't have turquoise eye shadow and bouffant hairdos, or anti-gravity brazzzeeers engineered by Howard Hughes.

In the Old West of Hollywoodland, people of all stripes shared a clean, friendly boarding house together, run by a kindly rotund middle aged lady. Said rotund lady always spread her ginormous dining room table with a red gingham cloth and every one sat around it and shared a meal.

Yes.... the hot young widow and her troubled son, the lone wolf with something to prove who wanted to bone her, the old couple who were hard of hearing, and the token hired killer. They were all there.

Sharing a meal-and what was that meal??? Freaking Non-Descript Stew!!!! That's right.

I started thinking about every time I've ever watched a western and people are eating. It's gawdamm stew,- in a pot over an open fire-,- in a pretty white china tureen-even around a campfire in those nasty metal plates that they always scraped with a bigass wooden spoon to get every last drop!!!!

Scrape, scrape, SCRAPE AAAAAARRRGGHHH!!! Make it stop.

STEW, STEW, STEW!!!! WTF is up with that???

Weren't these people farmers? Weren't these people ranchers?? Why did they pump so many bullets into people trying to steal the cattle? What in the hell were the cattle for? Did they ship them to India to be worshiped or something?

Why don't ya ever see John Wayne gnawing on a big, greasy,blood drippin' T-bone??? Didn't Clint deserve better? No wonder our heroes of yore were always so pissed off. They never got anything decent to eat!

What about vegetables? Do you ever see any vegetables in a western besides a big steaming plate of boiled taters?

Was the only place to get a salad the craft services table????

And have you ever noticed what that "stew" looks like in the vivid, blazing technicolor of the 60's and 70's? It's a nasty orangey brown -kind of like that shag carpet that was all over mom and dad's swinging pad with the sunken living room.

Remember those cocktail parties? Where if you were lucky you got pizza from Pizza Hut-when it still came on a cardboard slab with a tent. And then when "the grown-ups" got a little wasted, you snuck downstairs and scooped up all the bridge mix and ate it till you puked, hiding the brazil nuts under your brothers pillow?? NO, you didn't do that? Um...ok, me neither.

But I digress, back to the horror of Hollywood Stew. Now where was I? Oh, yeah, the stew itself. Okay, so its gross, it's brownish orange, we've established that. Okay, lets move on to texture. Lumps-a whole lotta lumps. Any idea what they were??? Gawd only knows, and I hope he keeps the secret. Was it beef? Was it chicken? Was it goat? Ever wonder what they did with Old Yeller after Tommy Kirk shot him?? Hmmmmm. thoughts to ponder. We can only hope that some of those lumps were the all elusive veggies from the prior paragraph. Clint, John, Gary Cooper, everybody needs a balanced diet. Even cowboys and outlaws.

Think of the endless takes, the endless eating, the countless bottles of Maalox, and trips to the bathroom. Dear readers, pray for the health of our wild west heroes.



Until next time.



WG

On Parenting....I iz an exxpert.

I re read my first post this morning, and realized that I had mentioned "parenting" and "parenting tips" as things you will not find here. Was that merely a mistake, or was it some type of froydian slip? Well, seeing as how I mentioned it twice, and told you I wasn't going to discuss it, I'm going to talk about it anywayzzzz. You will also find az you reeed my shtuff, that I enjoy missspelling wurds as much as possibull. I iz a good exampl for my offsprouts.

I have 3 wonderful, perfect, adorable children. They are the joy of my life, and all the money they earn from their tedious dead end teenage jobs goes into an account to take care of me in my old age. Of course, producing Stepford children is not an easy task. It involves years of indoctrination, repetition, sleep depravation, and medication therapy (For them and for me).

It appears that my middle son needs an increased dose, because after reading this, he just asked me if I'm on crack,..or meth,... or speed. Why of course not son, I just had my favorite dinner: Two vicadin and a bottle of wine.

I was always the Kool-Aid mom in the neighborhood. A little vodka never hurt anyone, right? All the other moms were so impressed. "How do you do it? Little Johnny always takes a good long nap when he gets home from your house."

And of course, nutrition was always important. I wanted the kids to have free choice, so as long as all four food groups were represented (candy, sugar, pizza and meat) I let them eat whatever they wanted.


The rest is kind of a blur, me being comatose or just not caring the rest of the time.


Here's a few recent popular search topics to generate a little traffic from the search engine gods:



Paris Hilton

Lyposuction

Appomatox Courthouse.

Please, will all 3 of you devoted readers leave a comment so I know someone is looking at this besides me? Sorry Lisa, after reading the transcripts from your last police interrogation, I decided it best for all involved to delete both of you from the pfan list. However, if you buy all the drinks next time, I might just change my mind.

Until next time,

WG-Still wondering about the name, aren't you????

Pickanick Pranxster

Hello again!



To my teeming throng of fans, I would like to say thank you-to all four of you. Thanks for taking this blog out of the abyss of obscurity. Unfortunately, one of those loyal readers is a paranoid schyzophrenic, so do I count her as two readers? Or just one? Maybe I should find out if both of her like the blog first. Or maybe, since she has been ruled by the court as unfit to stand trial, I should just delete her from the pfan list all together and leave the current count at 3.



Oh well, onward and upward to today's topic. Evil. Not just any evil, I'm talkin' realllllllllyyyyyyyy evvvvvvvviiiiiiiilllllllll!!!



Have you ever felt compelled for some unknown reason to just do sumpin totally out of character and down right mean?? No? Umm, yeah sure, ok, me neither.



Let's just talk about cute cuddly things, like BABIES... everybody loves babies, right? They are sticky, and smelly and loud, and wet and all kinds of pfun at parties. Have you ever seen a baby do a kegstand? That's some wild shit.



But as cute as they are, you must admit that babies are an eaaaazzzy target for evil. Like shooting fish in a barrel. I've got nothing against babies, -really; but sometimes they are just askin' for it, so your primitive, lower brain must comply.



Have you ever been at a big picnic? With dozens of people, lots of food, music, brewskis in buckets of ice? Yeah, great place to be.



So there you are, at the picnic, minding your own business. You're just people watching and somebody leaves her baby in it's stroller right next to you. I mean, c'mon, you look like a responsible adult, why wouldn't she just strand her baby with you while she goes in search of a chromosome to complete her next unplanned pregnancy?



Then, guess what? The baby starts to cry, wail, - scream even. Jeez, thanks a lot lady. If you are a woman, especially a mom, your first instinct is naturally to pick up the stinky, wet, loud quivering mass of baby and comfort it. But, you've already got a few beers in you, so your protective impulses have been dulled. You start looking around for help, any kind of help.



Your eyes are drawn to a bottle of ketchup on the picnic table. Suddenly, a strange feeling overwhelms you and a manical grinch-like grin starts to slowly spread across your face. Pretty soon, you'll look like Mr. Sardonicus. Your eyes dart back and forth between the baby and the ketchup bottle. Back and forth, back and forth. Your mind is playing a twisted game of ping-pong with both sides of your conscience.



Should you pick up the cute and cuddly baby? Or should you squirt it in the face with the ketchup and laugh-laugh really hard? If you think about it, if you simply handed the bottle of ketchup to the baby, he would eventually squirt himself in the face with it anyway, so what's the harm? As long as it's not a glass bottle, cuz that would be dangerous.



I guess, since I'm not really an evil-doer, here's what I'd do. I'd get myself another beer, pick up and comfort the baby and just THINK about squirting him in the face with the ketchup.



What would you do? Comments please...........

Dear Pfriends,
Thanx to all of you for joining me as I embark on this momentous journey. If I'm brave enough to write this, it's nice to know there are people out here who are brave enough to read it.

Some of you I know very well, some of you I've known most of my life. You are the ones who really understand me, and yet, you still like me. Shows what kind of folks I hang with, doesn't it?

For my newer friends, and strangers who happen upon this, be afraid, be very afraid. To quote a favorite song...."My mind's been going places without me lately." I actually never know where it's going. I guess that's why sometimes I laugh out loud for no apparent reason, and those around me fear for my sanity.

But that's okay with me. Normal never got me anywhere, so lets see what happens when I just let crazy take over, which it's been trying to do for so many years.

This is my public place for my private thoughts. I'm not sure what they will be, they strike at odd times and sometimes leave me wondering "what is wrong with me??" My only hope they will be pfunny and give you a couple minutes of comic relief from whatever may be troubling you when you drop by.

I can tell you for sure what you won't find here:

Information
Step by step instructions for raising goats
Financial Planning
Parenting tips
Weight loss help
Parenting
Anything important
Meaning
How to get rock hard abs

If you are looking for anything like that, keep going, sorry. This isn't the blog for you.

Are you wondering about the name? Wintermint Gilgamesh? Keep wondering, I will tell you next time.

To be continued
WG