Wow...that's Tura Satana. You may remember her from Faster Pussycat, Kill Kill. That little creation of Mr. Grubby himself, Russ Meyer, that became the favourite of every rockabilly and the occassional non-retarded person, too. I have to admit, I get a kick outta it and pop it in the VCR every so often.
I guess she still looks good, but think about ~this~. She used to date Elvis. Now, I'm putting up my dollars against your doughnuts that The King didn't spend nearly as much time on his appearance as our lovely Ms. Satana has in her bosom-y life, so imagine what he would look like now.
Soooo....what's been up? I've been away from blogging for awhile and am eager to get back in the saddle. And, dude...this is a great find.
I have to say...for all the uproar that my life is supposed to contain currently, I've not felt so calm and in control for a very long time. I had a dream the other night. It was a really crazy, violent dream and it disturbed me so much that I woke up at 5 am and ate half my kitchen. But...what disturbed me most of all was that I was actually just hungry...not particularly bothered by the fact that in my dream I bashed this guy's face against the floor so hard that he died or by the fact that I killed him because he was trying to hurt me. AND the guy used to be this guy I used to work with...that I don't hate.
So, I thought about it.
And the next day, I realized that I ~regularly~ have chase-y, stalk-y, hurt-y dreams in which I'm trying to fight back but can't. THIS one was the first time I can remember that I actually managed to win the fight. So...in the end, it was a pretty good dream after all.
the end.
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