Christmas Tree Minties

So, every year since I can remember, my Grandma has given Christmas candy bags to everyone in my family. And each year, my bag has contained these little Christmas candies that I like to call the "Christmas Tree Minties". They are flat, round mint nougats with red trim and a little green tree in the middle. This candy girl cannot get enough of them. On Christmas day, I can regularly be found working trades, sometimes as high as a 3:1 ratio in order to procure as many of these minty jewels as I can. As tasty as these candies are, the real draw for me is to try and eat them in such a manner as to extract the tree (trunk and all) in one piece. Yes, I make even candy eating complicated...this should not surprise any of you.
Anyway, today, my Grandma comes up to me on the sly and gives me a whole bag of them. She tells me to sneak them out in my coat so nobody else sees that she is giving them to me -- and she is serious. Fair is the name of the game in my family. She counts out every piece of candy that goes into those bags to make absolutely sure that they are identical. Imagine my delight upon learning that my Grandma was willing to jeopardize the delicate balance of family equality just so I could have my own bag of Christmas Tree Minties...it was awesome! My grandma was a rebel today...I don't think I could have asked for anything better.

Is that a cucumber in your pocket...

Cucumbers are not penises. Cucumbers are not penises. Say it with me this time...cucumbers are not penises. I realize that men are visual creatures, and that's great, but geez...can't a girl work the produce section without some guy watching her like she is performing in some kind of 4-H porn flick? And yes, I'm choosy about my cucumbers...so, call me a tease...and move on. I love men, some of my favorite people are men, but honestly - I don't know how they make it through their day sometimes.

Cathedral Peak

Wow. Cathedral Peak has got to be the wilderness mecca for all us old school gothy types that liked to wear black and listen to depressing music back in the day. This peak, captured in the right light, could have easily been used on album covers for bands like....Bauhaus, Sisters of Mercy, The Church, or Echo and the Bunnymen. It's incredibly unique, and one of the most beautiful granite formations that I've ever seen.

Located in the high country of Yosemite National Park, this locale was the destination of a chilly hike that I took a couple of days ago. And when I say chilly....I mean freezing ass friggin' cold. But it was so, so worth it. The hike is 7-8 miles round trip and it leads you to some of the most amazing high elevation meadows and lakes that can be reached without extensive hiking/packing experience. If you find yourself in the Tuolumne Meadows area with a few hours on your hands, give it a go...you won't regret it. Check the wind gusts in the area though. I encountered 70mph freezing winds that could have been really dangerous had I not been prepared for them.

In spite of the challenging weather conditions, this is still my favorite time of year to explore the high Sierra's. No crowds, and the fauna and flora are busy getting ready for the long harsh winter ahead. The energy up there is unbelievable and it resonates completely in the power of this immense wilderness that heals, inspires, and challenges me....and the peace that comes from the energy that I am able to give it in return.

Giving Thanks 2007

Ok, I've come up with my list of things to be thankful for this year. But before I get to that, I want to present some turkey fun facts in hopes that, come Thanksgiving Day, you will more greatly appreciate the dead body at the center of your dining room table. Here we go. Benjamin Franklin proposed that the Turkey (not the Bald Eagle) be the official bird of the United States. Wild Turkeys can run up to 20 miles per hour, and they lived almost 10 million years ago. Turkeys heads change color when they become excited - oh, and they can see in color. The costume that Big Bird wears on Sesame Street is rumored to be made from turkey feathers, and like Big Bird, commercially raised turkeys can't fly either. Gobbling turkeys can be heard from a mile away, and lastly...the fleshy growth under a turkey's throat is called a wattle. There you go. And before I forget to mention it...pigs, cows, chickens, sheep, game hens, deer, elk, boar, rabbits, bears and frogs are all really, really cool too. Ok, ok...I'm putting the soap box away...on to my 26 reasons to be thankful on this Thanksgiving holiday...remember, these aren't in any particular order (oh, and all 26 reasons from last year, still apply):

1. Lola. There aren't words - I just miss you.
2. The rain.
3. The Police. Best concert experience of the year for me.
4. My parents.
5. V8. Tasty drink...give it a go, you'll like it.
6. Pomegranates. Nothing like working for it.
7. Hwy 108/Sonora Pass.
8. Naps and bubble baths.
9. The Rain Song.
10. San Francisco.
11. Tears.
12. Barefoot walks in the park.
13. Moments of truth.
14. The health and happiness of all the people that I love.
15. Clarity. However brief.
16. A secret crush.
17. My friends. I couldn't make it without you.
18. Black and Tans. mmmm, sounds good right now!
19. Laffy Taffy, Lik-em aid, and marshmallow creme in the jar.
20. A starry night in the mountains.
21. Getting carded the day after my thirty-------birthday.
22. Kindness.
23. Imagination.
24. Words.
25. Strings, picks, amps and distortion.
26. Hands. But, only the sexy ones - that's what I'm talking about!

Happy Thanksgiving y'all. I hope this holiday season finds you at peace....lord knows the world could use all of the help it can get in that area. And if you are one of the lucky people who end up with the wish bone...make a really good one for me!

Adventures in the Woods

When was the last time you had a real adventure? Let me assure you, they are as good for the soul as anything. I long for those experiences of my youth, when I would come across something for the first time and my imagination would just run wild with ideas and wonder. I still have an overly active imagination and I build all kinds of wonderous ideas into my little fantasy world, but, real-life adventures that make me feel like a kid again - priceless, and totally awesome.
So, Redwood and I went on a dirt bike ride. We were looking for an old logging train trestle that he knew about. You never know what you are going to find out in the woods. Especially the woods of the Sierra Nevada mountains. I am partial, I know...but the area in and around the Sierra Nevada's is one of the most amazing places on this earth. And today, for us, they served as our adventure land as we rode on over 50 miles of trail, and hiked the crippled rail bed in hopes that the trestle would be there. We laughed alot, speculated on how people must have survived out there over 100 years ago, and even came close to pissing our pants with what we believed was a mountain lion sighting. Let me just say....those cats are stealthy. We saw it move, but never heard it. That's when my attention shifted toward finding the biggest friggin' stick I could carry.
Anyway, we eventually made it to the Trestle , and it was beautiful. Rugged and surly...much like it's origin, much like the history of those mountains. We wanted to cross it, but the beams were too compromised to take the chance. And motorcycle boots are not exactly conducive to free leg movement and the possible need for agile footwork should shit start to crumble. We had such a great day. One that will stay with me forever, as it's not everyday you can sit on a rock with your brother, in the presence of an old train trestle, and feel like a kid again.

Two bulls, four big ass horns and a lady

So, I have become obsessed with these two bulls that I see on my drive to and from work. The horns on these magnificent creatures have to be at least 10 inches in diameter at the base. I've never seen anything like it, and I am completely captivated by what they are up to every day. They have been grazing a solo pasture for the last three weeks (that's when I first noticed them). Just the two of them, never more than a few feet away from one another. Buddies. Lying in the mist in the mornings and looking towards the East in the afternoons to avoid the harsh sunset. This amazing energy radiates from them, and something tells me that they have an interesting story to tell. I think they might be Watusi cattle, but I'm not exactly livestock savvy, so who knows. All I know is that they are enchanting, and I dig them, alot.....I know, I'm a strange, strange girl!
Anyway, speaking of girls...one showed up yesterday afternoon. The pasture doesn't seem so lonely anymore. At first, they remained huddled together, observing her from afar. But, today, my joined-at-the-hip boys ventured farther apart as the smaller of the two made a move to chat her up. Big boy seemed to be unaffected by her presence, and wouldn't go near her. I think he is establishing his dominance by playing hard to get. She will ultimately ignore the one that likes her and pine away for the bad-boy that won't give her the time of day. I know that scene all too well, I just can't believe I'm watching it being played out in a pasture. I'll keep you posted as the drama unfolds....

"The Future is Unwritten" - Joe Strummer

I just finished reading "Redemption Song - The Ballad of Joe Strummer" by Chris Salewicz. A must read for anyone who, like me, worships at the altar of The Clash. Passion, intelligence, and a guitar...be still my tingly heart. Joe Strummer ruled!

Rainy Day...Yeah!

It's raining. I've got some gutters to clean in the morning. Small price to pay to the weather gods for the amazing smell of the first good rain of the season. I didn't realized how parched I was, this couldn't have come at a better time. (I gotta give a quick shout out to my girl, Kate Bush...I'm listening to her as I write this. Perfect.) I'm going to go for a walk in a minute. It's a tradition of mine - to go get drenched in the dark. Of course, this first rain is probably totally toxic, but, washing away the yuck -- these days I'll take the help where I can get it. Plus, when your hands are wet, you can't really hang on to things. And I could use some help there too. I hope my hair doesn't turn green. Wish me luck.

Send Me An Angel

....right now, right now. Do you remember that song? Circa 1983, the band was Real Life. So, it's fleet week in San Francisco. I don't generally keep up on things like that, but I had the good fortune to be sitting on the Bay Bridge yesterday just as the Blue Angels were doing their thing over the bay. Totally awesome! Let me just say, Naval Aviators...very hot! There is something especially tingly about watching a Boeing F/A-18 Hornet fly overhead at 700mph. The sound of those engines alone will do the trick for this girl. I was able to catch 30 minutes of the show, and next year - I'll be there for sure. If you are into jets, mach 1, and/or syncronized swimming for that matter...you should be there too. Incredible, and the most graceful thing I've happened upon in a long time. I left the city yesterday contemplating this thought: As humans, we really suck at simple stuff, like communicating. But we can sure build some friggin' amazing shit.

Lyrically Challenged

So, I have been writing lyrics. Or, trying to at least. Let me just say, it's a whole lot harder than it looks. As a result of this new endeavor, I pay closer attention to words in songs now. Before, it was real easy for me to just sing along to a line like, "suckin' on chili dog, outside the tasty free-heeze" and not really pay attention to what I was saying. But now, I hear a little "Jack and Diane" and I think...who sucks on a chili dog? And maybe sucking on a chili dog is good, but not when you imagine John Cougar doing it. Anyway, it got me thinking about other songs with horrible lyrics, and I started to make a list. And who doesn't love lists? Especially ones that make you laugh...and this one does make me laugh. So, here it goes: A sampling of songs that contain the worst lyrics of all time...or at least for the next few minutes...

1. Muskrat Love - America
2. Cradle of Love - Billy Idol (horrible, horrible song)
3. Blinded by the Light - Manfred Mann
4. Turn on your Heartlight - Neil Diamond
5. Three times a Lady - The Commodores
6. I'm too Sexy - Right Said Fred
7. Oh Sherry - Steve Perry
8. Sister Christian - Night Ranger
9. Afternoon Delight - Starland Vocal Band
10. Abra Cadabra - Steve Miller Band
11. De Do Do Do, De Da Da Da - The Police
12. MacArthur Park - Donna Summers
13. We Built this City - Starship
14. The Stroke - Billy Squier
15. Unskinny Bop - Poison

Please post additions, should you feel inclined.

My Friend Flickr

Flickr is cool. I have friends that have been using it for years, and I finally decided to give it a go. Very fun, easy to use...and free. "Take a Peek" at the links to the right, and see what I mean.

For Lola....

Goodbye my sweet girl. You were beautiful....I am honored and blessed to have known you.

Because Dogs Rule!

I'd like to take a moment and thank Michael Vick for bringing the bright, bright media light to the seedy underworld of dog fighting. I've been hesitant to comment on this topic, as it is almost impossible for me to remain objective. But, I am so glad that Vick's acute ignorance and penchant for torture ushered the minds of millions into a position of having to face the reality of what dog fighting is really all about. And if his story does shift the awareness of the general public to the point that law enforcement will no longer be able to "dismiss" this kind of crime, then Michael Vick accomplished in a single moment what animal activist groups have been trying to do for years. So, thanks Mike--I hope you lovingly remember all the dogs you tied to the "rape stand" as you serve your time in prison. I'm not sure how justice could be more poetically served.

P.S. If you have a pet, go find them right now and let he/she know how much you love them. Thank you!

Cookie Monster

So, for the first time in my life, I baked cookies for someone special to me. They were oatmeal with cranberries and white chocolate chips. I put all of my admiration and love into them, and smiled while I watched these little tokens of affection cook to a pretty golden brown. Surely my beloved would appreciate my efforts. After all, this girl doesn't bake. But she is romantic, so she dug deep to find her inner Betty Crocker and gave it shot. Why cranberries and not raisins? Well, raisins are yucky and I thought cranberries would look nice contrasting with the white chocolate. And cranberries are red. How can you go wrong with red? Well, something went horribly wrong, but I don't think it was the cranberries.
What I can tell you is that it will be a long time before I invoke the spirit of Betty again. The way to a man's heart is definitely NOT through his stomach. Not that I ever believed that in the first place, but I had hoped that he would at least be touched. It's always a risk to give something of yourself to another person, no matter how trivial it may seem to someone else. Those cookies were about love, hope and exploring an opportunity. That was the energy that they were made with. But they turned out to be an indicator of something far less beautiful. And sadly, my gesture went unnoticed as I was swallowed whole by expectations that I did not understand. I guess I should've armed myself with something more subsantial, like scones or bran muffins. I'll know better next time.

Old School Sexy....Catcher Style

Hello lover.....

Be still my tingly heart. Nothin' hotter on a baseball field than a catcher. And this catcher, oh my my.....do you remember how he used to through the ball from home plate to 2nd base on his knees? Benito Santiago rocked my world.

Pop Rocks

What the hell did they do to Pop Rocks? It has been years, lots of years since I last had them. And let me tell you....they took the pop and the rock out of that action. It would appear that they too have been altered from their pure, perfect state to be more user friendly and "safe" for all. I could not be more disappointed. Yet another example of how our current culture has stripped the edgy rawness out of something powerful, and left us with a watered down, mediocre, easy-to-swallow version. And yes, they were powerful.....very powerful.

It was the experience of eating these candies that first introduced me to the eroticism of mixing a bit of pain with my pleasure. Oh, and the danger!! All those urban myths about people blinding themselves by putting Pop Rocks in their eyes, or kids dying from eating them and drinking Coke at the same time. Who could resist them? Simply put....for me and my prepubescent third grade class, Pop Rocks were sex. We didn't know it at the time, but for some of us, we were laying the ground work for what would become a healthy appetite for all things that....hurt so good.

How did you eat them? Did you put them on your tongue...one at a time? Did you bite down gently, exploding the rock between your teeth? Or did you pour the whole package in your mouth at once, and just let the shrapnel fly? Did that unique combination of caution and intrigue awaken something inside of you? Maybe you've never thought about it....but I have. And Pop Rocks were definitely the S&M candy of my youth. If you loved them, and you aren't embracing your inner sub/dom.....what are you waiting for? Let your freak flag fly, my friend.

Single Girl

Ok, so I drank the kool aid. I didn't really have a choice. They started feeding it to me long before I knew what it was. My whole life I sucked down that sweet concoction made up of the idea that my purpose in life was to find a person to marry. That everyone's purpose in life is to search for a mate, and that only through such a discovery could one experience the reward of true happiness and satisfaction. What bullshit.

Don't get me wrong....people can be beautiful together. I've seen love, I believe in it. And I've seen relationships that are amazing and that foster true happiness and satisfaction. Sadly, I don't see them often...but I know that they exist. And that knowledge is what keeps me single. I see no reason to be in a relationship that is less than that. So, when people ask me why I'm single....I impart this "wisdom" and then watch as they mull it over. Then, slowly but surely, the vast majority of them will reach for that kool aid and take another comforting sip of what assures them that they are on the right path in their own life. And then I get the look. The look that says, ya right....you would be married in a hot second if you had the chance. Guess again. I've been down that road, and what I know for sure is that until my guy is the absolute right guy....I'm riding solo.

And how about that absolute right guy? Some say I'm too picky, that he doesn't exist. But I've seen him too, so I know that he does. I've actually known two of them, which encourages me even more. If there are two that I know of, then somewhere in the dark corners of the world, more are hiding. And the last thing I want to do is be in a relationship with the wrong person, when the right one comes along.

So, for the people who ask me why, and for those who want to set me up with their single friends and family, and also for those who look at me with concern in their eyes......please don't. This girl is just fine right where she is at. She has embarked on a new adventure, and to the extent that she can be, given all of her compexities....she is happy too.

Lost Camera

Yes, I know the person who lost the camera that you found.....interesting twist of fate that this blog address would be the only other thing in the case. Oh, the wonders of the internet!! Anyway, the owner of the camera is excited that you found it, and is very interested in getting it back as it holds sentimental value. The e-mail address that you left me is coming back as "undeliverable". Please try to e-mail her directly.

Thank you. You really rock!!

One year later....

So, it's been a year. A year since this girl took a swim in very uncomfortable waters, and decided to let you into her world. I wasn't myself at the time....all broken and lost. I mean, I would've had to have been crazy to start something like this in the first place. Putting my thoughts on display....giving you the tools to decipher my secret language....providing a map, for anyone willing to expend the effort to find me. All pretty scary stuff for someone who is as insanely private as I am. But you know, it's all about the growth that comes from facing fear...and the discovery of all the great stuff that lies beyond it. To all of you who are brave enough to let me know that you have been here, thank you. I love to read your comments. And to those of you who like to silently observe....you are welcome to continue. I no longer need to convince y'all to let me be queen. I finally figured out that I already am one ;) And a new year begins....

Wishing for....?

"If you could have three wishes, what would they be?" I was recently asked this question. And it took considerable thought for me to come up with an answer, but it also sparked a much larger internal philosophical discussion about karma, grace, and how we inevitably make our wishes come true (or not). I decided to approach this hypothetical question as if the person asking could in fact make my wishes real. I mean, you never know....right? There's that whole "be careful what you wish for" thing. First I had to decide what a "wish" is to me. Is it about something completely unrealistic? Like, wishing that I would wake up tomorrow with x-ray vision and the ability to read people's thoughts? Or are they about achieving something possible, but highly unlikely? For instance....world peace, or the end of famine. Should a wish be about making life more comfortable? Like, eradicating worries, concerns, issues (and boy do I have plenty of those!), and other normal irritants that life serves us up in daily doses.
What I came up with is this: When I think of something that I wish for...it is generally something that is possible...and likely, to the point that I believe in it. While it would be cool to have x-ray vision, I would never be able to be surprised when opening a gift, or seeing what's behind mystery door number 2. And ending famine sounds wonderful, but I would be altering the course of other people's paths through my will (karma doesn't like that). And you know, without worries and irritants, how would I know to cherish what is pure and beautiful? We all dream of things that we are probably never going to do...like jumping off of a bluff and taking flight, or traveling to the edge of space and discovering what is there, experiencing eternal life...so why not make our wishes something that can actually happen? I think that is the only way to get more wishes. Go out and make one happen, then you've got room for another. Can you imagine the positive energy shift that would occur in this world if we were all experiencing the satisfaction of realizing our wishes? I'm not going to tell you what my wishes are, but I'm working on one of them as I write this post and in order for me to make it come true, I have to ask y'all to ponder this - If you could have three wishes, what would they be?

Prince...one more time

Ok, I was just starting to get over the whole Superbowl thing. Well, not really getting over it....but letting it go. I listened to the respected opinion of a certain guitar master that I know, and his take on it inspired me to soften my stance on what I perceived to be appauling actions by this well documented musical genius. Musical genius or not, I'm back to the rigidity of my previous post....Prince is on the naughty list, for good! This isn't even about tingles, this is about so much more. The story goes something like this -
A friend of mine approached me today and asked me if I would like to go and see Prince with her. She reads this blog, and knows that pre-superbowl, I am ALL over going to see Prince, but now....not so much. She informs me that he is playing a small venue in Northern California next month, and really wants us to go and see him. I agree to go. Simple, right? Not even close! We get on ticketmaster and learn that in order to attend this concert, one must be a Citibank/AAdvantage card holder. The tickets must be purchased using said credit card and a special code must be entered verifying that you are an enrolled/paid member of the Citibank/AAdvantage club. Well, I don't think I probably need to go into what my reaction was to that, or the tirade that ensued for several minutes later. I have never seen such a gross example of the alignment of art and capitalism, in my life. And a bank, of all things! It doesn't get any worse than banks (well, maybe insurance companies are worse...it's a toss up). I mean, what is he doing?
You know, some of the greatest things I've seen have been what musicians do on stage. Going to live shows and watching the bands you love, play the music you love....it does something wonderful to you. The vibe is so incredible, and the feeling of the sound resonating through your whole body is euphoric. The energy stays with you for days - it's amazing. I am horrified and saddened by the increasing trend of elitist promotional tactics that make concert going impossible for many, and a financial burden to most. I forgot to mention that a ticket to this little citibank gig....$225.
So, what to do about it? We are the ones in control. Don't buy tickets to these shows. It really does come down to simple supply and demand. Don't go buy a CD at Best Buy, or pay to join the fan club, just so you can have a code to some pre-sale bullshit. At every turn, concert promoters and artists are finding ways to squeeze every dollar they can out of us. Take a stand and make art accessible to everyone who is interested. Ironically, the first concert I went to was Prince, on the Purple Rain tour. I was 14. That experience changed me, opened up something wonderful inside of me...and you know, how many 14 year olds are getting citibank credit cards and paying $225 to see Prince now? My guess is none - and that is just wrong.

Red Pixy Stix

So, if you are a avid reader of this blog, you already know that a common theme for me is honesty. Or rather, my need for it. It's almost a sickness for me, I realize. But, I believe that "keeping it real" ultimately results in a quality of life that reaches far beyond the mediocrity of the mundane, deep into the depths of dreamy candy lands. And I am all over lands o' candy. So, I do what I can to adhere to my policy of truth (great song, by the way), ever cognizant of the fact that people, myself included, are going to sometimes embrace their shady side, or make poor decisions. It's not about moral judgements, it's about taking ownership of who you are. It's kind of like...."I did/do (insert: derelict behavior), it was/is (insert: "a mistake" or "the best thing that ever happened to me"), and now I know (insert: what we learned from the process)......and yes, I will have some Skittles with that....thank you." This journey, the dreamy candy land quest that I pursue with such dedication, is constantly stymied by elements beyond my control. For I am a tiny piece, within a small part, inside of a larger machine operating in the infinite abyss. And this machine is oppressive, nasty and fueled by lies, greed and corruption. There are no dreamy lands waiting for the operators of the machine. Thank god! I mean, I wouldn't want to be sitting back sharing a bag of Red Vines with George Bush, or listening to the Bunnymen with Dick Cheney. And, I especially don't want to be working some great time in my little world, and suddenly find myself swapping moisturizing tips with Hillary Clinton! See, this is where it gets tricky though. Will I ever be able to reconcile my inner peace with my lack of outer peace? Will I reach the highest peak in my dreamy candy land, given all the negative, dishonest energy surrounding me every day? In times of doubt, I tend to stick to what I know.....red pixy stix. The red pixy stick is not something to be taken for granted. They are only offered to those who inspire me (or those that I have huge crushes on). They serve as an invitation into my world, and the recognition that you are a welcomed and appreciated part of my path. I'm saving one for Obama.....just in case. He may prove to be worthy, and if so, then it's all his. And if it turns out that he can fuel the machine with tolerance, acceptance and truth, then he can have my whole supply.

Why I think V.D. sucks -

First of all, let me just say that I completely believe in love, romance and all that tingly stuff. I do. I mean, if I were the type to adorn my bumper with stickers, I would have one that proudly stated, "I brake for love, honk if you do too". Really. I'm not one of these jaded, cynical types that scoff at all things sweet and tender. But, having said all of that, I have to go on record and say that I find nothing romantic about Valentines Day. And this isn't because I'm not my valentine's, valentine either (although, that does suck something fierce). It's because Valentines Day is an institution, dictated by the rules of Hallmark, Russell Stover, and rose farmers 'round the world. It's not spontaneous, original or creative. Does it really bring lovers closer together if they both go out and find a valentine offering to present to each other on a day that every other couple is doing the same thing? Are we that generic? Do we need a designated day to remind us to show our love and appreciation for the special person in our lives? I would much rather have my guy show his adoration for me on a random day when I'm not expecting it, and more importantly.....at a time when he is actually feeling it. And for a girl like me, with a halo made of razor-wire, this could be most effectively achieved by simply showing up at my door sportin' a mohawk, eye liner, and a cocky grin. Nothing says "I love You" quite like liberty spikes and Max Factor. Sorry, I was just going someplace really wacky with that.....Anyway, whether you are with the one you love, or trying like hell to love the one you are with -- skip V.D. and celebrate each other in your own unique way. That's when it counts, that's when you know it's real.

Crimes Against Tube Socks -

WARNING: Disturbing Image to Follow....Proceed with Caution!

Curious, huh? I tried to warn you....

Ok, check out the guy in the white pants:




















It's ok if you are blushing. It's not easy to look at, I know. I have to believe that this guy is violating a tube sock in the worst kind of way. Because if that bad boy is real, then the phrase "size doesn't matter", needs to be modified to "size doesn't matter, unless you are that size". No girl wants to see wood like that with her name on it. They just don't. If I saw something like that coming at me....I'd run like hell! I encourage anyone with some insight that might help shed some light on what is going on here, to please share. I'm just at a loss with this one.
How about the rest of the band? That big pecker isn't the only thing wrong with this picture. Instead of Journey, they should have called themselves Steve Perry and the Circus Side Show Freaks.