Build Date: Sat May 18 10:30:09 2024 UTC
What? Now I need a REASON to yell at people?
-- Tjames Madison
My Only Regret
2002-05-15 13:49:12
I'm here to talk to you about regrets. You know, those things you wish for the rest of your life that you did or did not do. The things that create Sour Grapes. The things you KNOW would've turned out perfectly the way you wanted them to, but you justify your choices by imagining that not making them would've ruined your life as you know it. I'm lucky. I have only one regret. And it haunts my dreams on a regular basis. Now that I am in love with that show The Osbournes, it's getting worse.
I regret that I didn't tell the guy I've loved since high school my feelings when I had the chance. He wanted to know. He asked me. But, I couldn't say. My feelings were too strong. I was too vulnerable. Plus, I had a boyfriend at the time and I had to break up with him first. By the time I did that, The Man of My Dreams went with the blonde sitting on the other side of him. He told me about it in a kind, compassionate way. So I didn't take it hard. But it's been a long, slow, lingering chisel at the base of my heart for many, many years. I see him now and then, at Hometown Social Functions and Get Togethers. He still makes my knees weak. And it's not because he's a rock star. In fact, I wouldn't have hesitated if he were, oh, say, a Dentist or a Caddy. But the whole rock star thing makes me shudder: Miss Conduct is nobody's groupie. So, I remain a quiet fanatic. I can barely listen to the radio these days. He's on every hour or two. I become a character in some True Love comic book. I enter this dreamy trance state as a big thought bubble appears above my head of him playing music, me watching. Another thought bubble appears above the thought bubble me, of me laying across him and his hands roaming my body as if I were the instrument.
My whole concept of how this might have been is changing, thanks to the Magic of Television. Ozzy and Sharon Osbourne are true inspirations. Sharon Osbourne, man she [bleeping] rules! She's Ozzy's wife, manager and sometimes interpreter. Although, he pretty much only says "[Bleep]." I get the impression that Ozzy wouldn't be able to walk if it weren't for Sharon. And he is so sweet with their daughter, Kelly. She sits on his lap and kisses his cheek before a promotional shoot. She reminds herself not to say [bleep]. I can't figure out their son, Jack's, accent. He's 19 and says he wets the bed. I think he has a band too. Ozzy and Sharon mostly like to sit and talk baby talk to their Shitsus and Pomeranian. At Thanksgiving, Ozzy made a ton of really good gravy. That's all he said all day, "[Bleeping] fabulous gravy." Each Osbourne flips off the camera in the family holiday photo. And they call Champagne, Piss Juice. Even Sharon.
So now my imagination transports me to a life somewhere between this and the film, Rock Star. I can see us now: living in squalid opulence, teaching our children the virtues of swearing and freedom of expression. Our son salutes us with a ripping belch every morning. Our daughter confesses to her father that she got a tattoo the night before, begging him not to tell me. He says he has to and calls me while I'm having a manicure. Our son sneaks young ladies into his room at night and lies to us about it. We hate the music our daughter listens to, commenting that it sounds good for getting your head smashed in. Our children wet the bed and possess nervous ticks from growing up with road stress. I dress my husband and shove him off to the airport while remaining at home to prepare for our daughter's seventeenth birthday party. He phones me from New York to complain about how [bleeping] tired he is of [bleeping] touring. And why can't I stop spending [bleeping] money so he can retire like a [bleeping] normal person. I say something like, "Buck up darling and get some rest. Love you."
The show is brilliant. It's surely going to provide Ozzy with that retirement send off he keeps pleading for. It's certainly bringing him and his family a great deal of press. Even for Aimee, the daughter who wants nothing to do with the show. I think she is going to become the most famous Osbourne of all. Meanwhile, I could be hanging out back stage with the Who this Summer. Excuse me, I need to reprogram the Holodeck.
T O P S T O R I E S
In 2010 Dr. Cheng-Huai Ruan discovered a way to cause a patient with an abnormal heartbeat to get back into a normal rhythm by sticking a finger up the patient's ass. (More...)
WKRP in Cincinnati aired from 1978 through 1982. Howard Hesseman played Dr. Johnny Fever, a DJ from Los Angeles who was fired from his previous job for saying the word "booger" on the air. In the show Hesseman would do some dialogue, introduce a song, and start the song. You'd hear a few notes, but never the whole song. (More...)
SF Hippies Can't Get Their Act Together
The annual 420 Hippie Hill event in Golden Gate Park, where large crowds of hippies, wannabe hippies, and hippie poseurs drape themselves in tie dye t-shirts and gather on a hill on 4/20 to smoke weed, was cancelled this year because the organizers couldn't get their act together. (More...)
Mozart to be inducted into the Rock 'n Roll Hall of Fame
Joining such hard-rocking inductees as Abba, Chet Atkins, Nat King Cole, and Neil Diamond, the Rock 'n Roll Hall of Fame is proud to induct Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart. (More...)
Gary Busey definitely involved in a hit and run accident
Gary Busey was definitely involved in a hit-and-run accident, but won't face any charges because he's rich and famous. (More...)
Gary Busey allegedly involved in Malibu hit-and-run
"Sir! You hit my car! I need your information!" the woman yelled at Gary Busey driving a battered Volvo station wagon before he sped off. (More...)
C L A S S I C P I G D O G
Still Up For the Party? America's Dance Floors Are Graying
Raving over 30 doesn't have to be embarassing anymore. (More...)
Australian Troops Set for Days of Debauchery to the Tunes of Kylie Minogue
This weekend Australian troops in East Timor will be able to put their feet up and push all the images of mass graves and charred remains from their minds as they relax to the giddy melodies of Kylie Minogue - including exclusive unplugged performances in the militia-ravaged and blood-spattered border towns of Balibo and Suai. (More...)
Three Days and 25 Spocktails: A Cautionary Tale
Johnnie Royale picked me up from the dental surgery. I felt warm, safe, cradled in the anathesia's loving embrace. The pharmacy downstairs gave me a bottle of Vicodin and a few instructions: take it with food, don't mix with alcohol, don't operate heavy machinery. I put it in my pocket and we left. "Do you want to go home, or do you want to go to a bar?" asked Johnnie. (More...)
The One I Feel Sorry For Is Joses
We've had a lot of Jesus coverage lately here at the PDJ. But let's face it, we're not exactly cutting-edge in this subject area. Jesus has been making headlines for, oh, I guess it's a couple thousand years now. Jesus is a very strong brand. Jesus has a lot of mindshare. (More...)
It’s election night. My wife and I are holed-up in this hotel that my political party has rented out for the evening. Outside, people are being violently beaten for whom they voted for. Is this South Africa? Perhaps we’re in Haiti or some Southern state during the 60’s. Of all the places where this sort of thing happens, it’s mind-boggling that we are in Portland, Maine. (More...)
This week: another fine spocktail from the beverage researchers at SMRL! Drink it in peace, because WE DID THE RESEARCH! (More...)