Let’s see what happens when your host (me) has nothing to say, and instead it’s open mike night. Step right up, speak your mind, tell a story, sing a song, whatever.

5/17/2025
Let’s see what happens when your host (me) has nothing to say, and instead it’s open mike night. Step right up, speak your mind, tell a story, sing a song, whatever.

5/17/2025
4½ hours… wow. Downloading now, so we’ll see.
They’re fun to listen to, not serious criticism, and if it’s a film I’m well-versed in, I really notice their shortcomings – but I rip the audio and listen to them at work. Worth searching their archives for your favorite flicks.
The host (Bill Simmons) is worth about $100,000,000 (not hyperbole) so that’s… annoying.
If I’m recalling right, the “Rewatchables” also appear as articles. Pretty sure I’ve read a few, but don’t think I’ve watched any before this one.
It’s gotta take effort for someone worth $100-million to watch movies and even relate to the fictionalized ordinary people dreamed up and portrayed by the other millionaires. But I’ve never hated Simmons on paper, so he must do it well.
I think his first thing was Grantland, and then The Ringer, and yes, both feature pretty good writing about sports, etc. Not as good as Dan Jenkins or Hunter Thompson, but readable. I think he made that hundred million by selling The Ringer – let that be an example, Holland. You monetize this site, I want a piece!
The time to monetize me was 30 years ago when I was having my 15 minutes — book deal, movie rights, lunchpails, etc. The idea made me barf then and makes me triplebarf now, so the royalty checks will be delayed, sorry.
Close Encounters!
https://youtu.be/4OVfL6c-GeU?si=__yK0wCiXY4FrBKi
Haven’t listened yet… my third fave SF film, though
What’s the rest of your top ten or twenty? I’ve seen most of the greats, but haven’t written about them. Haven’t seen CE3K in 25 years, but it was the first movie I paid to see over and over again. Saw it so many times I lost count. King Cinema, downtown Seattle.
Watched the podcast’s opening ad, wondering why a guy worth $100-million is pitching for Amazon Prime. I’ll watch the rest of it, of course.
Yeah the ads are bullshit. People are sellouts I guess. Maybe more than enough still isn’t enough. God forbid he pay for the cost of the show himself.
Will get back with my SF list – need to look at my shelves.
I was fortunate enough to be in Edmonton, Alberta for a couple of weeks in the summer of 1956, wherein they made the U.S. Lone Ranger TV show into theatrical episodes and aired them as “to be continued” serials for kids at suburban theaters every Saturday morning. The episodes always broke as a train was going off a cliff or as Tonto forgot he left the dynamite in the stove for safe keeping overnight. I assume they did this across Canada, but I was six and lacked a sophisticated understanding of business models for television and theatrical content.
John
That’s a clever strategy. A TV show has mini-climaxes built into it, to keep viewers from changing the channel during the commercials, so it makes sense. A show like The Lone Ranger could be cut into two or three 8-9 minute cliffhangers. My further guess would be that this was done without the studio’s permission, just snipping and splicing reels more legally rented by a local TV station. Just guessing, of course.
Did your folks let you go to the show alone, or were they there with you?
Wikipedia tells me there were movie serials of The Lone Ranger in the ’30s and ’40s, before Clayton Moore and Jay Silverheels took it to TV, but I’m assuming your recollection is correct.
I remember answering this last night, but my answer vanished or moved. We were up there visiting my mom’s cousin from Scotland, who was married to an RAF fighter jet pilot who went nowhere without his mechanic, Shorty. Both gentlemen had RAF-signature moustaches. Our host, the pilot Ken said he believed that Shorty could fix a fighter jet so it couldn’t be shot out of the sky (and his never was). They did enjoy the odd pint or five, but Ken kept it down to two pints on flying days. Edmonton was such a safe city that parents let young children (oldest – 7 or 8) walk to the theater Saturday mornings With money for admission and treats.
I wouldn’t swear, in the distance of time, that it was Mr Moore and Mr Silverheels, but that’s how I remember it.
jtb
My favorite is Pablo Mason, for non-mustache reasons.
Chris Hadfield in a walk. Here am I floating in a tin can.
jtb
Planet Earth sure is blue.
I was six and it’s a fragmentary memory. The family we were staying with had children just slightly older than my sister and me, so we went with them. It was ALL kids. In the USA they would have had to call out the National Guard — Canadians are somewhat better behaved across the board, but I recall some level of chaos. It’s possible I was too young to understand the concept of film editing.
jtb
Part of what I liked about the Lone Ranger is that Tonto and the masked man were buddies despite the genocide. At least, that’s my recollection, but I was a little kid like you, possibly some of the subtleties were over my head.
Serials were over by the time I came along, but there were still weekly ‘cartoon fests’ at the Lewis & Clark. Movies were for the family, and Mum & Pop would never have let me go alone. Damn it.
In the introduction, they called Tonto the Lone Ranger’s “Indian companion”. I’m surprised in retrospect that the gay community didn’t use that two word phrase to designate gay couples. (e.g., Hi, I’m Johnthebasket and this is my Indian companion Doug.) Just another cultural appropriation opportunity lost in the midst of chaos.
jtb
‘Companion’ was one of the common euphemisms, but I prefer ‘fuck-and-refuck’.
oh, I guess I went over your boundaries of decorum with my last post?
so “ALMOST Anything Goes” would be more accurate?
Well, you know best, or maybe I forgot to hit Post Comment…
I’m guessing the latter? Pretty sure I’ve never removed a comment on this site, except spam for SEO.
I triple-Doug-dare you to go beyond the boundaries of decorum!
I try to get this short song by short musicians up here annually. This is Ronnie Lane with some survivors from The Small Faces in a band called Slim Chance, which the BBC was, fortunately, there to record — Oo La La.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cpSlT2BVvGc
jtb
Fine rendition of a song that always reminds me of Leave It to Beaver. There’s an episode where Theodore buys a gift for his mother, a fancy silk blouse that says Oo La La, and he doesn’t understand that it’s kinda racy and inappropriate for Barbara Billingsley.
It’s been what, 55 years since I watched that show, and that’s the only episode I remember, because Ms Billingsley was the inspiration for the term ‘MILF’.
Her first husband, Glenn Billingsley, was a nephew of Sherman Billingsley, owner of the famous nightspot the Stork Club. Her grand-nephew is Peter Billingsley, child star of A Christmas Story and director of Couples Retreat.
My Big Ass-venture
I drove down the mountain into Matehuala, first priority buy condoms and find Yessica, but she wasn’t hanging out by the cab stand on the first pass so I went downtown for other errands. The next time by I talked to a cabbie who said she’d be there later and so I went up the highway to eat cabrito. It was a wet and stormy day in Matehuala, traffic crawled and the taxis were busy, I stalked the cab stand and found Marcellus, and soon I was riding in his taxi to find Yessica. It was the house I had stopped at the week before, she came to the door and told me to wait on the corner.
A few minutes later she got in the taxi and we drove back toward El Centro: I had my sex slave and a plan.
“How much for an hour with me in my hotel room?” I asked.
“$60,” she said, and I feigned misunderstanding. The cab driver did an elementary accounting by the tens for me but this wasn’t according to my plan.
“$20,” I said and she quickly agreed. I tossed the cabbie five bucks and we got into my car, she knew all the shortcuts to Motel Las Palmas. When we got near she scrunched down in her seat and I put my jacket over her but right at my parking spot was a maid, so I kept going, not knowing what to do, but then she peddled her work trike on down the line of cottages. We bounded out of the car, into the room, and shut the door.
We stood facing each other.
“Baniar,” I said and started taking off my clothes.
“Baniar?” she said.
“Si, ven.” We were soon both naked, me a beast of a Gringo and she a six months pregnant teenager.
She seemed surprised by my actions as I lead her into the shower and gave her a bar of soap which she started rubbing on herself.
“No,” I said. “On me.” She soaped me up and I did the same to her, rubbing each other all over and then rinsed off. We went back into the bedroom, I issued her a pair of latex gloves, and told her to lie back on the bed, she was a very obedient sex slave. I put my gloves on and my hands wandered all over her body, spread her legs and discovered pink flesh within her brown labia. I ran my fingers between her legs and over her titties.
I stopped touching her, lay down on the bed, and told her to softly touch me all up my body, as I had done to her. She complied, I told her to lie back down, kissed her from her ankles to her knees, then asked her to do the same for me, which felt very nice.
She lay back down and I played with her body some more, fingered her then asked her to put my fingers into her as I sucked on her titties, small ones with very large brown areolas. I rubbed her clit and asked her what she liked.
“All of it!” she said.
“Show me,” I said and she guided my finger into the rhythm she liked on her clit.
“Now you touch yourself,” I said. She hesitated and I repeated my request, then she began to masturbate herself while I finger-fucked her and sucked on her titties. We did this for awhile, occasionally I looked up at her and she smiled.
“Okay, ” I said, and lay down. “Lick and kiss me all over.” With her pregnant belly hovering over me she did as I asked, like I said she was a very obedient sex slave.
I got out the condom and said, “Now play with my balls and suck.” As she did this I put lubricant on my glove and began to play with her anus. She pantomimed that area was for eating and shitting but I continued, gently working a finger up her and asking her to do the same to me. She wouldn’t penetrate but she did lube up and massaged my anus while sucking my cock. I finger-fucked her asshole, just gently about an inch or so, as she played with my balls and sucked.
“Okay,” I said and took off the contaminated glove, tossed it on the floor, and told her to do the same. “No mas with these.”
She finished me off and I went to take another shower.
“You too?” I asked.
“Si,” she said. She joined me and we soaped and rubbed, and massaged each other.
I gave her the twenty and another ten for a tip; on the way back to the cabstand I told her thanks for the orgasm and did she have one too?
Yes, she said and of course I had to ask her a couple more times, then more questions.
“How often do you masturbate,” I asked.
“Three times a week, “she said.
“Maybe see you again in a few days.”
Lots of people apparently including you disagree but I never want anyone to play with my balls. No pleasure in it. Not an erogenous zone for me. More like, no trespassing. Do not touch.
So did you see her again in a few days?
Certainly left me hanging, hombre. For me the very best part comes after, where you both get dressed but don’t tidy up and then go have a big, filling breakfast at the diner. That’s the sexiest of the sexy bits. Finger play and co-lathering in the shower is swell, orgasms are appreciated, but nothing beats eggs and coffee, maybe chicken-fried steak, while you’re both talking though full mouths about whatever comes up.
How long ago was this? Twenty bucks is cheaper than any price I’ve heard, anywhere since the 1970s. Not much profit but she makes it up in volume?
That was in 08, then a few years later I found her again, she was pregnant again, and I remember it as an underwhelming event, maybe I couldn’t get it up, but I gave her the 500 pesos and a ride to a store anyway…Finally in 2018 I had my last encounter like that, and it was so ridiculous I swore off hookers, then it was about $15 I think…
Wow, that seems like a very reasonable price. Knew a few sex workers in San Francisco 30 years ago, and even then they wanted $120. Not sure exactly what that purchased, though.
Not sure whether I’m too damn cheap or too damn moral, but even at $15, heck, I could scratch my own itch and save the money.
Hoping to hear the follow-up story.
That massage parlor on Shattuck back in the 80’s?
$90 for a bj…
then i went right over to visit my mother, and felt all dirty
See, sorry, but that’s what I mean. $90 in the ’80s was big bucks — $350 in 2025 money, says this website that thinks it knows about such stuff. My hand costs nothing, gets the same results, and I don’t even have to get dressed before or after.
To a large extent, I feel the same about food. Like, why the holy heck would I pay $80 or whatever’s the going price for a top-notch steak, when I can get a burger at Dick’s for $4, and absolutely know it’ll be delicious?
45 minutes later, my response to you is not up…
just for the test…
The problems persist. They say they’re working on it. Thanks for still trying.
okay, i reposted my latest Yessica story but don’t see it up yet
It’s there! And I’m sure it’s awesome, though I haven’t read it yet. Got a bus to catch in 11 minutes…
As my memory fades like a dying democracy, the jukebox in my head awakens me to songs that have brought me joy and sorrow and insight, and Tom Waits frequently comes with them. This is a recorded version of “Invitation to the Blues”, a song I saw Tom sing with a piano to a half-empty house somewhere in Seattle forty years ago. I still marvel at its beauty and sadness. It’s four in the morning and the jukebox won’t let me sleep.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ujn4YTrdBNI
jtb
Sweet as cherries, soft as a porcupine. Some people find him annoying but I’m never some people. I was nervous on the tracks, though. A train could come at any moment.
YouTube is doing a flurry of “You must turn off your adblocker,” so lately I download YouTube videos instead of watching on their frustrating site. It’s cool when a great song like this ends without six popup ads for other songs and a pudding recipe.
Is there a different way I should be posting these vids? I can still write a reasonably competent assembler program, but by the time the Web came along, I was hands off. I regret not getting on the train, but I was busy trying to make sure the station didn’t fall apart. Pardon the metafart.
jtb
There’s no different way I know of. YouTube is a monopoly; there’s really no taking our business elsewhere. I ain’t complaining about anything you’ve done, only Google again and again.
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