TauntSociety

Pleasure’s a sin, and sometimes sin’s a pleasure – Byron

Hannah — Tue, 07 Sep 2010 02:48:56 +0000

Traveled to New Orleans to attend the New Orleans Writer’s Conference. I was a bit apprehensive, I usually don’t do well with new people. I was almost surprised when I had an absolute fucking blis-nast!

A champagne brunch at the Court of Two Sisters after a night of bar hopping in the Quarter was one hell of a way to start the day. Tony the Tiger could take a lesson from that shit. More champagne, less fiber.

I already knew two of the heads at the table, my sister-in-law, Patti, and a Louisiana book reviewer, Cecile. The new faces were Rachel and Autumn. They were fresh and charming. Witty and vibrant. As we huddled, we women not afraid to be expressive, and maybe a bit too honest, assures me we flushed a cheek or two surrounding us.

You know what though? I couldn’t tell you if we were alone or choked with company. I was too focused on the conversation.

Then we hopped, skipped and jumped on down to the book signing. While it was not quite what I had expected, I still enjoyed myself and left with arms overloaded.

One reason for that is because I won a door prize. A gift basket. This gift basket.

I’m lucky they could either not read nor pronounce my last name. When he called “Hannah”, I just started moving. There aint no other Hannahs in the room. If he had read the last name, I’d of been shit out of luck. People who carry my last name are some of the unluckiest damned folks on the planet.

They say that they can’t all be winners. The drive back to H-town, however, was so uneventful, I gotta shout it out as a winner. No accidents. No construction. A smooth, sweet, peaceful ride.

Boys will be boys.

Friday Funk – Rob Zombie

Hannah — Fri, 03 Sep 2010 11:36:15 +0000

Scum of the earth
Come on

Yeah
Run and kill
Destroy the will
A hero that doesn’t exist
Yeah
Smoking gun
Well I am the one
A bullet hole
In your fist
Yeah

Hey, I’m breathing
Hey, I’m bleeding
Hey, I’m screaming
Scum of the earth
Come on

Yeah
Wake up dead
Bleeding red
A world that doesn’t exist
Yeah
Heaven waits
With the gates
Rusting in the mist
Yeah

Yeah
Hey, I’m breathing
Hey, I’m bleeding
Hey, I’m screaming
Scum of the earth
Come on

Hey, I’m breathing
Hey, I’m bleeding
Hey, I’m screaming
Scum of the earth
Come on

Go [x12]

Yeah
Run and kill
Destroy the will
A hero that doesn’t exist
Yeah
Smoking gun
Well I am the one
A bullet hole
In your fist
Yeah

Hey, I’m breathing
Hey, I’m bleeding
Hey, I’m screaming
Scum of the earth
Come on

Hey [x6] Scum of the earth
Hey [x6] Scum of the earth
Hey [x6] Scum of the earth
Hey [x6] Scum of the earth

It finally happened. It got weird enough for me.

Hannah — Thu, 02 Sep 2010 01:44:41 +0000

Work is, well, no, I won’t talk about work right now. They don’t get this time. I need my mental health time and Imma taking it.

As we watch a commercial for The Sound of Music earlier, Michael mumbles, “That bitch needs a better haircut.” Reason No. 370 why I keep him.

We haven’t visited the fam or the ol’ dirty-dirty since xmas 2009. When you go less frequently, it means more. You have higher expectations. Your schedule is tight, your sleep is minimal, sure, all those things are true. My point is that it means more.

Why are we making the trip? Originally it was to drink heavily in the French Quarter, during Southern Decadance, crash a Writer’s Workshop, attend a book signing, shack up in a hotel downtown with some bitches and enjoy cocktails and laughs at the Carousel Bar.

Now that we’ve decided to take the bike, and family has changed schedules or happen to be lucky enough to have off this weekend, a family ride will be had.

That is a monumental thing five years after the storm I refuse to speak of. A family ride. So numerous before it was easy to take them for granted.

Again, the things you do less frequently are the ones that mean the most.

What I’m saying here is that we are coming in to have a good time so how about not go and do something stupid like try and fuck that up. M’kay?

I did it. I judged.

Hannah — Wed, 01 Sep 2010 00:33:07 +0000

So the other day I was at the library browsing. No thanks, I don’t need any help finding anything, I’m just looking.

I like for things to kinda jump off the shelf at me and 9 times outta 10, it somehow does exactly that. So I see a book with a big ole picture of Shakespeare on the front, flip it over and read how the book talks about his muse, his inspiration. I thought that would be just fine, snatched it, shifted mine eyes back and forth while stiff-arming my way to the counter and left, thankfully for them, without incident.

I get home, plop down in the recliner there and take a good, long look at the cover. Are those fangs? What the … I flip it upside down and every which way before I realize that the Houston Public Library bar code sticker was covering a very important word in the title.

Undead.

That’s right, Shakespeare Undead.

Jesus H. Christ. Really? Shakespeare’s gotta be a vampire too? Now, you know I aint hatin’ or flamin’ as no one loves a sexy vampire more than I but Shakespeare?

I let it sit on the livingroom table for a couple days and thought, “fuck it, go with it.”

I gotta say, I was pleasantly surprised. I enjoyed it. Weird, right?

Anyway, so then I go off and do another grab-by today, get me one of dem dere purtfied book thangs and the opening statement reads, “For Tamara Adena, my romantic, seductive, and sensuous daughter.”

See, that’s just creepy right there. I don’t even wanna read the bitch now.

I don’t know my point to any of this. I need a cocktail.

Hannah — Sun, 29 Aug 2010 15:36:25 +0000

Friday Funk – Morcheeba

Hannah — Fri, 27 Aug 2010 11:00:28 +0000

Who can you trust when you need to?
Why do we rust when we heed you?
Crashing back down to earth I’ve found
We can love
Oh, let me see
All of the places that I can be
Oh, let me know
All of the places where we can go
Do you ever think in bubbles?
Do you ever shake up troubles?
Falling apart right from the start
Crawling ’round
Oh, let me see
All of the places that I can be
Oh, let me know
All of the places where we can go
Show us how to stand up, strong
Waiting, for you takes so long
Shadows leave us standing naked
We can’t fake it
Oh, let me see
All of the places that I can be
Oh, let me know
All of the places where we can go
Oh, let me see
All of the places that I can be
Oh, let me know
All of the places where we can go

Wrong?

Hannah — Tue, 24 Aug 2010 20:14:27 +0000

Is telling your boss, “If you try ‘n’ make me work for that bitch, you might as well go get an empty box and help me pack my shit,” wrong?

It is, isn’t it?

We all do it.

Hannah — Tue, 24 Aug 2010 01:35:50 +0000

We all do things we SWEAR we’ll never do again. We all do things that we really, really don’t want to. We don’t want to do it.

Yet we find ourselves doing it.

Every person on this planet can be called guilty of that sin at one point or another in their lives.

So what!

Who are you or you or even me to judge how someone deals with their rationing of suffering?

We all get our share. We all go through the stages of grief.

Off all the stages, anger is my favorite.

Shhh, I’m hunting wabbats.

All work and no play …

Hannah — Sun, 22 Aug 2010 15:49:43 +0000

I woke yesterday with intentions of giving this house a fucking wash. With all the travels recently and having to work late more days than not, including weekends, I have been neglecting my good wifely duties and this joint needs a’scrubbin’.

I actually like to clean. I don’t think when I’m cleaning. My mind completely blanks out except for the next splatter spot, next hair ball, next dust bunny. I can’t focus on work problems or home problems or family and friend problems. Nothing.

So anyway I’m scrubbing the kitchen, moving at tornado speeds, ammonia and bleach filling the air, and Michael goes, “You know what might be more fun than cleaning the kitchen? You wanna take a ride to get lunch?”

“HELLZ YEH!”

We gear up, we take off towards downtown, Michael giving me a good run weaving and flying through traffic. The sun was brutal and of course halfway there is when I remember sunscreen.

Our destination was Pizzorali’s. It was cozy, had a young hipster playing guitar and cast the feel of old mobsters. I loved it even before our food arrived. When it did, sweet baby jesus, it was incredible! The owner came to talk with us, total mobster but sweet, and brought us “dessert” of ribs to try.

NEXT TIME WE GET RIBS!

After the ride back to the house, we were both whooped. So we took a nap that wasn’t pleasant. You know those naps where you have to force yourself to sleep and then do nothing but sweat through nightmares, waking with a pounding headache?

A nap’s a nap however so you take what you can get.

After a long, hot bath [have you seen my tub, size of Ohio and luxurious like a motherfucker] we go looking for a bar with a pool table, the game on HD and food. I know, I know, a lot to ask but after a bit of driving in circles and listening to GPS that don’t know shit, we found it.

BLT for me, big ass burger for Michael, crown and diet cocktails, watching the Saints rip the Texans a new one and a few marathon games of pool.

All in all, not a bad Saturday.

Friday Funk – Heart

Hannah — Fri, 20 Aug 2010 11:36:34 +0000