The Lost Blogs (2 page)
Authors: Paul Davidson
I was in a bit of a downer last night when my buddies came by and we made a night of it. About the time they were draggin’
my fat ass home, we passed by this garbage dump of a place run by some lady who calls herself
Madame X
. We figured, what the hell, and walked on in.
She knew about this old Babe as most people in Boston do—and we got to talkin’. About how Frazee and the Sox weren’t treating
you know who with the respect he deserved. How Harry’s stupid decision to let the Babe go was gonna affect those Sox for longer
than they’d ever care to remember. Madame X throws up some powder, there’s this flash of light and she tells me “it’s all
done.”
“
What’s all done?
” I ask her.
“
You’ll see
, “ she says.
About that time, the beer was comin’ back up my gullet—so my buddies dragged me off the floor and toward the street. Madame
X shouts back to remember the number “2004” or “a thousand four” or “don’t fall on the floor”—I’m not sure which… Although
she seemed all worked up about the number for some reason.
Who knows… or cares. Now I got a hangover and I gotta pack my shit up.
Baseball—if it doesn’t make you a star, it’ll kill you eventually.
From:
http://www.blogs.com/neilarmstrong/
Subject:
One Small Step for Me!
There’s a lot of technical jargon being thrown around in the Apollo 11 capsule right before we touch down on the Moon. Last
week’s lunar landing was historical, yes, but even more of a technical feat. The small details are what make something like
that extremely successful.
Even more exciting, of course, was that moment right as we touched down on that hunka cheese. That moment, right before the
hatch door opens and we step down into History. Thanks to Buzz Aldrin’s antics, it went a little something like this:
Buzz: “
I’m gonna head on out, Neil. See you out there?
”
Me: “
Uh, why don’t you let me step out there first?
”
Buzz: “
No, no no. Don’t worry yourself. You just look at the instruments, talk to Mission Control—it’s probably cold out there anyway.
Let this lowly lunar module pilot take the beating for you, Commander
.”
Collins: “
Or, you could stay behind and I’ll go check it out for the both of you
.”
Obviously, who would be the first man to step foot on the Moon was the debate of the moment. And so, I reached into the back
to my rigorous training at NASA and came up with the perfect solution… The kind of way we always used to solve disagreements
at the Cape…
Me: “
Rock, paper, scissors
.”
Buzz: “
Rock, paper, scissors?
”
Collins: “
Rock, paper, scissors!
”
Me: “
First to win three, is the first to step on the Moon. Deal?
”
Buzz: “
Rock, paper, scissors?
”
Collins: “
Rock, paper, scissors!
”
Thirty-eight rounds later, you can imagine the outcome. The exact thirty-eight-round play-by-play can be read
here
, although is there really any need to take a gander at it? I think we all know who the first man on the Moon was.
First Man on the Moon’s Rock/Paper/Scissors Tip of the Day: If you use rock every time, you’ll eventually win.
From:
http://www.john_lennon.co.uk/blog/
Subject:
Met a Girl…
Was in London this past weekend and had the pleasure of attending the art exhibit of a strange and fascinating woman named
Yoko Ono. Or Ocean Child, as she calls herself.
A child, she is not. Her art was poetic, engaging and thought-provoking. When I attempted to compliment her on the exhibit,
she seemed to have no idea who I was. It was, in a world of unwanted attention, quite pleasant.
We talked for some time, of course. I asked about her performance art, she asked me how long I expected to be with the Beatles.
I asked about her inspirations and motivations behind some of the pieces on display, and she seemed awfully interested in
how Paul and I dealt with the publishing rights of our songs. We talked for what seemed like hours about music, the planet,
nature and how long I thought I might stay on with the Beatles before trying solo projects.
She was, to say the least, quite supportive of my singular musical passions—she even encouraged me to explore areas of music
I had never thought to attempt before. Areas of music, she said, that only involved one person instead of two, three or four
additional performers.
I’m not quite sure where it all will lead, but by the end of the evening we made plans to see each other under a much less
formal situation. Much more casual. I suggested possibly attending a play or sharing a table at a restaurant—she suggested
possibly taking a trip to an undisclosed location and locking ourselves away for days on end without anyone knowing our whereabouts.
Especially the Beatles, she joked. We could strip them of all that makes them who they are, she laughed…
A bird with a sense of humor! Absolutely adorable!
From:
http://www.napoleon.fr/blog/
Subject:
Today’s Thoughts on Size
In my travels across many great continents, I have often come in contact with extremely small men. Midget men so small that
they often find themselves misplaced under foot and hoof. Tiny little small men that measure barely three feet or four feet
tall. I feel sorry for such men, if you could even call them men—I wouldn’t personally call them men, as they are so short.
In fact, short isn’t really an appropriate word for such maladies. A man is not a man if he is less than five feet tall. Of
this I am sure. For if you are not tall enough to look into the eyes of another man, you are not a full man but instead a
small man, which isn’t the same as being a full man.
My belief is that if you are less than five feet tall, then yes, you are not fully a man. But if you are over five feet, well,
then you are a man and there is no question about such things. And if you are five feet three inches or five feet four inches
you are obviously a superior man. If your height reaches above five feet five or five feet six, it is obvious that you are
one to be feared. Such height instills fear in your enemies and makes one a superior leader for being able to see farther,
higher and deeper.
I have known very few men who measure less than five feet who’ve won battles or defended their honor. But men above five feet
six and three-quarters inches, well, these men are the true official defenders of their countries. Men taller than such measurements
cannot be measured by normal human everyday means. Such men are above normal men in both stature and respect.
Again, I will reiterate that I have no concerns of my personal height or measurements (which happens to be five feet seven
inches)—this entry is only to express my general thoughts on size. I have picked random numbers and hypothetical measurements,
of course, in an attempt to educate and inform. But I am sure that after reading my previous thoughts on size (
Entries 1–75
,
Entries 110–54
,
Supplemental Entries 198–255
,
Once Deleted and Now Restored Subentries 422–87
), you will see that I am fully unbiased and am simply exploring such subject matter in an attempt to educate and inform those
who have previously wondered if size does matter.
I originally had a picture of myself towering over a building, but this has since been taken down due to my desire to not
point undue attention toward my stature and how it towers over huge hulking publicly erected buildings. I also removed a photo
of me standing next to my soldiers, reaching high into the sky while these tiny dwarfs stood beside me, also to not single
my superior self out from the group as a whole. I am many things, but not one who seeks attention.
On an unrelated note, I am seeking a new saddle for my horse—one that supports the weight and height of a five foot seven
inch individual, as my current saddle cannot support my five foot seven inch height.
E-mail
me.
From:
http://www.billyshakespeare.org/blog/
Subject:
Art Thou a Critic?
Having finished my latest opus entitled
Romeo and Juliet
(which you can read
here
, or watch unfold in moving
ASCII animation
), and finding pleasure in the creation of such, I was perplex’d upon receiving a note from her Majesty the Queen a fortnight
ago. Her opinion (which is highly regarded, if not due to the fact that her fortunes helped assist my literary creations)
seems to be that star-crossed lovers Romeo and Juliet should never have left their earthly bodies behind.
“
It’s depressing
,” the Queen said. “
Death is saddening and depressing and has no part in a public forum
.” Death be not sad? Death hath no place alongside depression? Death is sad. It is depressing. It is public. Nevertheless,
the Queen continued…
Whilest her suggestion to bring back my beloved Capulet and Montague from wherest forth they rest causes my blood to boil—however,
if I ever want to work in this kingdom again, I must prepare myself creatively for compromises of the word. And so, without
further adieu I give you the second chapters in the continuing tragedy of my beloved characters…
Romeo and Juliet Are Alive!
A fortnight after the deaths of Romeo and Juliet, the kingdom is overcome with sadness. Their bodies, frail, lay side by side
when a mysteriously shrouded figure sprinkles magic upon their lifeless souls. Their bodies dance, their eyes open wide, and
the Capulet and Montague have returned, both alive! Yet now, they hunger for human flesh and traipse through the countryside
like confused, lumbering fools! They are quick to bring destruction upon both their houses, but in a funny way. Comedy, dear
Queen, ensues.
Romeo and Juliet: Curtain Call,
With the night muffled, and day’s light peeking through the clouds—a shrouded Romeo and Juliet awaken. Those who surround,
surprised at a development such as this. For how could two star-crossed lovers who fell ill from drinking poison—how would
life breathe anew into their lungs? A hidden joke, cry the lovers! Soon, all who surround are let in on the drama that has
been perpetrated upon them as a curtain reveals the audience. Everything, including their deaths, acted out for others’ amusement!
The lovers surprise their audience again by revealing they are not who they seem! Romeo as Juliet, and Juliet as Romeo—they
exchange their clothing for the ultimate reveal!
Romeo and Juliet Are Ghosts!
Having tragically lost their lives and looking for revenge, Romeo and Juliet are ghosts who haunt the Capulet and Montague
estates, mysteriously forcing heavy jeweled objects onto the floor and causing terror throughout. Such terror, causing the
deaths and suicides of both entire families, will be watched by the all-seeing eyes of Romeo and Juliet, who will giggle with
laughter as revenge has finally befallen those who forced their own hand. Family comedy/inspirational drama.
I also find my thoughts turning toward a comedy about two princes who misplace their horse and carriage and spend the entire
comedy attempting to relocate it, but this is (as I have said) a very rough idea.
From:
http://www.jimmorrison.com/blog.html
Subject:
New Words for the Doors
Been workin’ on a new song tentatively called “Light the Fire” that was inspired by a moment where I had to, um, light a fire.
Would love to hear from the fans before we put poetry to paper. Still working out the kinks, so to speak. Communicate at
[email protected]
. Grooooovy!
In the meantime, while you’re doing that… check me out—I’m naked on the Doors unofficial
24-Hour Webcam
.
—
Light the Fire
You know I’ve opened up the flume,
And thrown inside a rubber tire
So can you please just follow through?
And finally, please, just start the fire?
Come on baby, light the fire
Come on baby, light the fire
But please don’t light the house on fire
The time to hesitate is through
You may as well follow me, your Sire
Pick up a match before I snooze
Falling asleep to the Vienna Boys Choir
Come on baby, light the fire
Come on baby, light the fire
But please don’t light the house on fire
The logs and newspapers are new
That smell will be the burning tire
I’ll slip off all my clothes and shoes
