For she’s a jolly good fella…

Yesterday was the birthday of our dear hag, cooter aka cooter jean aka the legend of cooter jean.

Cooter is… how do you say?… bad ass.  What can I say about cooter that can’t be expressed in drunken poetry?  (Probably lots of things, but here goes nothin’):

There once was a cool chick named cooter

Who seemed like she couldn’t be cuter
It was her birthday,
And I’m here to say,
I hope she can fix my computer.

You know you feel it too. Sentimental, right?  Here’s another, straight from the heart:

There once was a girl who liked ‘vettes

If you said “I can’t ride,” she’d  say “Let’s”

You’d drive and you’d drive

And if you didn’t make it alive

She’d get early onset tourette’s

Here’s another classic, from me to coot:

Cooter jean

She isn’t mean

She makes me laugh

She’s not Zach Braff

She makes cool shit

I’d pay for it

I’d drink jack and coke

just to hear her tell a joke

she’s one bad ass mothertrucker

and i’m supercalifragilistic glad that i know her

Happy Birthday, cooter!  I hope it was a fantabulous one!

Come on squeers! Let’s raise our glasses to cooter’s birthday and leave your best cooter-related poetry in the comment section!

Cristal Meth-Bale

We love you, sweetie.  And we’re all here for you.

Today is my friend Natasha’s birthday.   She’s pretty damn fabulous, let me tell you.  She writes poetry, and she’s competed (quite kick-assedly, I might add) in multiple pole dancing competitions, including the West Coast California Pole Dance Competition.  Aside from her many talents, she’s a great friend, and an all around bad ass person.  While she’s not a bona fide squeeperson (yet), she once inspired a  Squee! (It too was pole-related.  Coincidence?  I think so!)  So, she is deserving of a proper Thundersquee! birthday shout-out.

Nanners, this squee! is for you.

Some day I'll learn to rock the pole as well as Nanners.

In honor of Lisa #1’s official wedding day

We love you, sweetie.  Mazel tov to you both!

Harry Connick, Jr. makes me proud to be a New Orleanian, but I still loathe Ray Nagin and the crack dealer a block over

I’m not a native New Orleanian, but those who know me well know that the Crescent City is my adopted hometown: it’s where I was comforted after losing a parent, it’s where I was married, and it’s where I’ll probably become a mother.

It’s not without its faults as a city - New Orleans has a well-deserved reputation for seediness, with its well-publicized political corruption and high violent crime rate.  But this same city, leveled merely 4 years ago by a devastating natural (and some might argue, partially man made) disaster, is back with a vengeance. 

That’s due largely to the fabric of the people who call this city home, from Satchmo to Patricia Clarkson.  But Harry Connick, Jr. is my Official Favorite New Orleanian now, after graciously but firming laying the smack unto racial stereotyping on an Australian variety show. (more…)

This is my dance space; this is your dance space…

Well as everyone knows, Patrick Swayze died on Monday.  And while we were having technical difficulties that day, I couldn’t let the death of the man 12 year old stopthemadness thought was the hottest thing since George Michael.  (I had both posters on the wall; the Dirty Dancing poster and the Faith poster (you know that one where he’s holding the guitar and wearing the sunglasses and you’re looking at it like “humunuh humunuh, you soon to be gay man, I LOVE you.”)

But Patrick.  Patrick starred in 13 year old stopthemadness’ favorite movie: Dirty Dancing (well, it was a tight race between Dirty Dancing and The Princess Bride).  He also starred in other kick ass movies like Ghost, Roadhouse, Red Dawn, Donnie Darko, and Point Break.

On Monday, at the age of 57, Patrick succumbed to the pancreatic cancer he had been fighting for 20 months.  He was a beautiful dancer and his wife, Lisa Niemi was also a beautiful dancer.  They were married for 34 years until he died.  Rest in peace, Patrick.  You were a big part of my childhood.

I salute you, brother

Jim Carroll passed away of a heart attack at the age of 60 in his Manhattan home last Friday. Jim told the story of his fall from star athlete to junkie in the autobiographical book The Basketball Diaries.

In his life he would wear many titles. Poet, Addict, Punk, Junkie, Prostitute, Thief. Through it all–the highs and the lows–he was an original. Jack Kerouac said of Carroll after reading a early manuscript of his diaries, “At 13 years of age, Jim Carroll writes better prose than 89 percent of the novelists working today.”

His troubles were all self-inflicted. That was the tragedy of his life.

Sar's real grandma actually seemed this persnickety when Sar was eight.

I can’t think of a better day than TheHobo’s birthday for this coincidence. Yesterday was Roald Dahl Day, which I’ll bet you didn’t know existed.

Roald Dahl’s writings helped shape my childhood, and I’m sure I’m not the only squee-gee (talkin it up!) who can say that.  My favorite was George’s Marvelous Medicine, which I read until the book wore out.

In honor of Roald Dahl Day, here’s a quick list of some of my most memorable childhood reads (and links to the ones with text on Google books).

• George’s Marvelous Medicine by Roald Dahl
• What’s the Matter with Herbie Jones by Suzy Kline (She also wrote a warm response to a fan e-mail I sent her a few years ago.)
• Beezus and Ramona by Beverly Cleary
• Be a Perfect Person in Just Three Days by Stephen Mane
• Wayside School is Falling Down by Louis Sachar
• The Best Christmas Pageant Ever by Barbara Robinson

What are your most memorable childhood books, Squeeple?

Watch Your Step, Errant Boys!

There is a Birthday Girl named TheHobo
Who sometimes nails boys with her crossbow
She’s clever, and sweet
She makes “awesome” obsolete
And she’s more badass than Greta Garbo!

Battlestar Galacti-bale: Extravaganza

Today is TheHobo’s birthday.  Huzzah!  I’ve composed this completely off the wall Battlestar Galactica birthday weirdness.  Hope your birthday is frackin awesome!

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But either way, HOT DAMN!

Oh no he di'in't.

The Huffington Post has some more deets about last night’s congressional shenannies.   Apparently, a couple of Democrats yelled for Rep. Wilson to be thrown out on his ass.  Another yelled “Shame on you!”  Pelosi looked like she didn’t know what the fuck just happened.

And my favorite:

First Lady Michelle Obama, seated behind and above Wilson, seemed to mouth a drawn-out “damn” at the scene unfolding before her.

Bless her heart.

And she can!

Ellen is awesome.  I love her stand up.  I love that she married Lindsay Bluth (Portia di Rossi).  I love that she dances every day on her show.  If I didn’t work, I’d probably watch Ellen every day.  As it is, I’ll settle for the occasional YouTube clip:

If you’ve never seen the following clip, I dare you not to laugh:

What is it, someone’s birthday?

There is a young Squeer named lava
She just had a new babeh; brava!
Happy birthday to her
Jensen Ack-bale’s secured
And waiting with a big, juicy guava.*

*Well, we TRIED to get Jensen Ackles secured for you, anyway. Happy Birthday!

Happy Birthday, lava!

Today is Squeer! lava’s something-something birthday.  She said she didn’t want a fuss, just money, but currently our pockets are overflowing with fuss, but contain very little cash.  So please join us in a rousing round of happy birthday, and break out your best breakfast wine to toast our dear lava.  I should also mention she accepts checks.

There’s Never Been A Planet Janet Hasn’t Seen

Happy birthday, Janet, may you continue to discover the universe’s endless mysteries!

Have a great birthday!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

or you’ll get a Bud Light to the face…

Wait, is that a bad thing…???

Nothing says happy birthday like a Torgo greeting card!

Happy Birthday, Jujubees!

Today is our Queen of Hags and the Original Bedazzler, Jujubees’ birthday. So today, we’re going to present to you a day of Jujubees. Earlier today we brought you a tribute to her favorite Bale and her favorite beer (she may be single-handedly responsible for the sale of this elixir), and we felt it was the best way to kick off this day of Juju. BUT, we owe her far more, because she is, well, because she is Juju.

For those who don’t know, Jujubees, is the Original Hag. It was Jujubees who started our first message board and banded us Mollygood malcontents into a group. Jujubees is the reason the Hags exist, she’s the reason that we are a family. And if it weren’t for Jujubees, there would be no Thundersquee!, and if there were no Thundersquee! there would be no Squeers! Yes. That’s you! You wouldn’t exist. It’s some apocalyptic shit.

Stop freaking out! Let the Bedazzler soothe your soul:

We love her.  We owe her.  And most of all, we bow down to her hilarity.

Because she cannot always be here (she’s got a litter of children that she raises), and because many of you are not familiar with her comic stylings, today, we will present to you just a a tiny gelatinous morsel  of comedy sweetness.

Cheers to you, Jujubees.  If it wasn’t for you, our lives would be a whole hell of a lot less awesome.

Lots of love,

The Hags

Without further ado, Thundersquee! presents: Jujubees’ Jewels:

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Happy Birthday Juju! I hope  your day is filled with cute things and booze!