substitute

My dad told the one in which Lawrence's widow Frieda and her Fascist Italian army officer lover left Lawrence's ashes at a railway station platform in an excess of passionate disorganization. Some of the other stories are below.

1. LAWRENCE was buried in the old Vence cemetery on a March 1930. His remains were exhumed in March 1935 in the presence of Mrs Gordon CROTCH, an English resident, and incinerated at Marseille on March 13. A wooden box holding a sealed zinc container in which were his ashes, was then delivered, together with the appropriate transatlantic transport authorization by the Prefecture, dated 14 March, to the former captain of Bersaglieri Angelo RAVAGLI, at that time the factotum and lover of Lawrence's widow. His mission was to take the ashes to Taos (New Mexico) in "a beautiful vase" specially ordered by Frieda for this purpose. The ashes brought to Taos by RAVAGLI in grotesque cicumstances were cast by him into the concrete slab of a "shrine" which he built at the KIOWA ranch at San Cristobal near Taos.
   
   
2. When Baron de HAULLEVILLE and his sister-in-law Rose NYS-de HAULLEVILLE (who knew Ravagli through the Huxleys) were Ravagli's guests atTaos, Ravagli after partaking from a bottle of bourbon, confessed late one night to having dumped the box and ashes between Marseille and Villefranche (where he was due to sail on the Conde di Savoia), so as to avoid the expense and trouble of transporting them to the USA. When in New York he collected Frieda's vase, mailed "to be called for" from Marseille, and put into it some locally procured ashes which he took to Taos.
   
   
3. The following year Frieda had his body exhumed, cremated and the ashes brought to Taos. Her plan was to have the ashes housed in an urn in the memorial but Brett and Mabel Dodge Luhan wanted to scatter the ashes over the ranch (while Lawrence was alive the three women often competed for his attention). In response, Frieda dumped the ashes into a wheelbarrow containing wet cement and exclaimed, "now let's see them steal this!" The cement was used to make the memorial's altar. There are other stories concerning the whereabouts of Lawrence's ashes but this one is the most widely accepted.

Oh Frieda. Oh Captain Ravagli. Oh dear.

Once again my local FOX affiliate takes on the big issues. In this case, the shadowy, malevolent hacker underground group that will do anything for LULZ: spoilers, gay porn, myspace hacking, and blowing up the same car over and over. Phil Shuman, you've once again raised the bar for satire.

A dictionary just for you!

http://amazon.com/dp/0877796262

:)

From torgo_x in another thread, the answer to the question: "What do those right-wing evangelicals want, anyway?":

~ What they want ~

They wanna meet the President of Jesus and tour the Holiness Factory and all the oompa loompas are wearing nice suits and smiling and it looks like a set from Dynasty on the TV except it's real, and then James Baker runs up and gives them a kissykiss and everyone giggles, and everyone gonna getta big chocolate Jesus with magic gold USA flag wrapper yaaay.

Then all sortsa Jewwwws and gayinese commniststs and Alkalaidas show up and say "gawwd, we were so... [sobbing] SO WRONG! And you were right! SUPERSORRY!" and there's hugging and crying and Dr Phil is there to make sure it's all very solemn/joyous. Except the Alkalaini, he goes "yalalala" and hits his detonator button, ohno! But his chestbomb thing comically goes "PFFFT!", and he cries and runs away all spazzy and everyone laughs at him REALLY LOUD. (The Oompa Loompas will catch him and lynch him. Applause.)

Then everyone gets a gift bag of "victory swag" and they're all instantly [special effect!] wearing the clever "GOT JESUS???" etc t-shirts. So from now on, everyone will treat them like they're smart and popular! And the air conditioning never breaks.

And one of the 'Loomps gives a happy speech and everyone smiles and claps.

And then it's off to a special advance screening of Apocalypto!!

In an aquarium full of lube. Forever.

There is a Yahoo! Discussion Group solely devoted to pissed-off investors in Diedrich Coffee:

http://groups.yahoo.com/group/diedrichforum/

The Register ran an article about it today.

I like the fact that the pissed-off investor's pissed-off introduction refers to Gloria Jean's as their "best business." Actually I remember their "best business" and it was kinda different from that. Kiss your cash goodbye, guys. Maybe Starbucks will give you a nickel on your dollar.

I am at a Starbucks and there are morons talking about blogs, demographics, and "making or breaking bands." The guy are talking about shit like "Yeah if someone looks for a band like Yo La Tengo then I get a list of that" and "Most of the blogs are just advertising stuff but some of those kids get, like, credentialed." I think one of them just said that a band had a "web tour." also: "THERE'S ACTUALLY SOME REALLY GOOD CELEBRITY SITES!!!"

One of them has Hippie Hair that he saw on a TV movie repeat from 1981 in 2003, clearly, complete with headband. I think they've mentioned Seattle about 8 times in the last 5 minutes.

I never remember to bring the kukri or the short-barrel 10-gauge when it's really, really needed.

TLÉÉ'

Brent wants to be my friend. This is awesome, because Brent runs Absolute Power Dating, a resource for guys just like me to get dating tijps that are absolute, and powerful.

Brent could actually use a little bit of my help with language. I understand that, in his latest blog entry, he means to say that socially inept ugly guys can too get that dreamgirl they saw on the tv, but "UNATTAINABLE MY ASS!" sounds more like the weak protest of the bi-curious man on the edge. Oh it's attainable all right, Brent. You're such a tease.

Does "Matt" swing this way? He's got an admirer...

http://orangecounty.craigslist.org/mis/162756051.html

Matt at Newport Rib Co. - m4m
Reply to: pers-162756051@craigslist.org
Date: 2006-05-20, 12:15AM PDT


You waited on us tonight and gave us great service, would like to return the favor and service you sometime.


* this is in or around Ladera Ranch

Susan J. Sneed says: "lose the anglicise". But Susan, shouldn't you lose yours first?

Octane H. Hippies, Simplified A. Duress, Skyline O. Oppressing, Commissioner C. Fleas, and Unscrambled J. Aggressors all shared with me everything for my 100% health.

Sot J. Contradict alleged that there were beautiful Russian girls waiting for me.

And although the message was about ringtones, at first I really wondered if the people calling themselves "Customize Your Cell" were reaching their target market properly.

My Indian/Arabic Beauty - m4w - 28
Reply to: pers-160362531@craigslist.org
Date: 2006-05-13, 4:36AM PDT

Who are you? I ask myself. It was just another Friday; bunch of friends hanging out, hoping to meet that one person that will change their lives but knowing that most likely that would not happen. Because of this, expectations were low and passing time was the goal. The first 2 hours played out as expected: the conventional few drinks and common questions. How’s your week? Is your boss still a prick? What’s your plan for tomorrow?

I was about to call it a night, when I decided to get my last drink at the Shark’s Club. Then it happened. That moment that will cause me to stay up till 3 AM and write this letter.

As I waited to order my drink, I bumped into you at the bar. Even though shy by nature, I felt compelled to at least say one phrase to you. Maybe; hi, how are you? To be honest, I don’t remember what was said, but I knew we hit it off instantly as we began to talk about favorite alcoholic beverages. You, I presumed are a Coke and Vodka fan. You asked me to share a drink and I refused at first since I was the designated driver for the night. But your easy-going personality and mixed Indian and Arabic beauty gave me no choice but to relent. As we continued the generalities of an introduction, the connection became stronger. You know that feeling that this might be more than just coincident. Maybe this will go beyond the casual encounter.
I mentioned to you that my favorite concoction was a Jaegermeister and a Red Bull mix and you laughed. Some may take it as nothing more than impoliteness; however, I felt totally connected. It’s that feeling that you might have found that one person that will at least be worth a second or third date. I decided to introduce you to my buddy and he thought you were cool. Maybe too cool since you scared away the girl that he was hitting on. We began to talk and you mentioned that you like trance music and you were going to a place called Avalon in LA tomorrow. Where is Avalon I would normally ask? However, it turns out my buddy knows the place and had planned for us go there tomorrow. Ask I stared at you again, I kept on thinking about that magic word that people always use: connection. You made fun of me and I thought how cool. What girl makes fun of a guy at first sight and drags him out to the dance floor? Still half dazed and confused, we went to meet your friends on the dance floor. But as fate would have it, as we move through the crowded joint, we got separated.

Believe me when I tell you that I frantically searched every corner for you. Maybe it was only a few minutes; maybe more, however, it felt like an eternity trying to find you. During that time, part of me imagined that you too are also looking for me. But the pessimistic side said: bad omen. Here comes another Friday: one where frustration rules and hook-up with the wrong person is the norm. Eventually, I saw you again near the bar, talking to two other guys: one shaved and looking like he served our country well. My heart dropped: a precipitous fall from its once high. We eventually made eye contact but instead of coming back to me, as I would have wished, you continued to talk to the interloper. Believe me, when I say, my whole being just wanted to approach the player and kick his ass; however, some stupid moral constraint prevented me from doing the instinctive.

Here I stand, in a state of denial; unable to cope with the loss of the Indian/Arabic beauty that haunts my sleep; angry at her for not reciprocating my desire for her and worst failing to get her number. It’s now 3 AM and I am writing this letter in hopes that YOU somehow get this message and write back. I know it is a small chance, but what alternative to do I have?

* this is in or around Costa Mesa
* no -- it's NOT ok to contact this poster with services or other commercial interests