Lethal Dose

Cheetos on the studio stairs, day 3.

aka Saint Elmo, yes, he of the fire. But I bet what you didn’t know is that Saint Elmo/Erasmus is the Patron Saint of Ammunition/Ordnance/explosive workers (and more)! Next time someone dynamites through rocks, uses a jackhammer, or tears down a building, offer up a little prayer to Saint Erasmus, who is also the patron saint of abdominal pains (presumably, which occur when an explosion goes wrong.) Actually, that’s because “at one time he had hot iron hooks stuck into his intestines by persecutors under Emperor Diocletian. These wounds he miraculously endured.” Ouch! How do persecutors think these things up?

St. E gets hooked.

Our S of the W is a busy fella with lots of nicknames:

Patronage
abdominal pains, ammunition workers, appendicitis, birth pains, boatmen, childbirth, childhood intestinal disease, colic, danger at sea, explosives workers, Gaeta, Italy, intestinal disorders, mariners, navigators, ordnance workers, sailors, seasickness, stomach diseases, storms, watermen, women in labour.

(No, I don’t see erasers in the list.)

Also known as Elmo; Eramo; Erarmo; Ermo; Herasmus; Rasimus; Rasmus; Telmo .

Bishop of Formiae, Campagna, Italy. Fled to Mount Lebanon in the persecutions of emperor Diocletian; was fed by a raven so he could stay in hiding. Discovered, he was imprisoned; an angel rescued him. Recaptured, he was martyred. One of the Fourteen Holy Helpers. Namesake for the static electric discharge called Saint Elmo’s Fire. Disemboweled c.303 at Formiae, Italy

Who are the Fourteen Holy Helpers and can I buy some at my local supermarket?

Eve sends this little tidbit today, reminding us that indeed, trains may want to kill you, but they’ll give you ample time to get out of the way.

MWOOD PLACE, Ohio (AP) — A train struck and injured a pedestrian who was sending a text message on his cell phone while crossing railroad tracks, a collision that hurled him about 50 feet, authorities and witnesses said Monday. Zachariah Smith, 18, waited for a southbound train to pass Monday morning. He then walked around a gate and onto the tracks, apparently unaware that another train was coming from the other direction, said witness Mike Billups. “The horn was blowing like mad and the kid was text messaging,” said Mayor Richard Ellison, who went to the scene and talked to several witnesses after hearing of the accident. “The kid apparently was just daydreaming.” Smith was knocked out by the collision, Billups said. He was listed in serious condition Monday night.

Dammit! Why didn’t they find out what the message was?

The pneumatic tube system, no longer in use, but still intact, at the old Columbia Studios:

From wiki: “Pneumatic post or pneumatic mail is a system to deliver letters through pressurized air tubes. It was invented by the Scottish engineer William Murdoch in the 1800s and was later developed by the London Pneumatic Dispatch Company. Pneumatic post systems were used in several large cities starting in the second half of the 19th century, but were largely abandoned during the 20th century.”

Every day, at work, my coworker and I comment on the smudgy finger marks on our computer screens. Every day we wipe them off.

This morning I came in and before I turned my computer on, I looked at it from the side and there they were: multiple little fingerprints, all over the screen.

I wiped them off again.

Now, I understand being an industrial cleaning service and why that job would suck. You throw away water bottles, people get mad. So you stop throwing them away. You get your kicks by throwing away their cups. Whatever. You want my crackers, go ahead, I don’t mind. I mean, just because you haven’t yet doesn’t mean you can’t. Fish oil tablets and vitamins? Help yourself! Spare makeup? Please! Anyone who knows me can tell you that I wish the entire world would wear makeup.

But why the smudgy fingerprints? Are you in here, late at night, with my computer on, pointing at something? Oh no, that just gave me a bad thought. Then again, if someone wanted to hang out and use my computer, they could find a much better office to do it in.

”

Break out the antibacterial spray, I’m on a tear.

My friend Eve and I have had, for years, a game we call “My Dead Boyfriend.” They can change (identities, that is) but the short version is: unlike real men, they can’t break your heart, cheat on you, fight, take your money, or disagree. They never protest, and if your real relationship comes to an end, they’re right back, because they’re dead! Another great thing about “My Dead Boyfriend,” is that you can choose what era your dead boyfriend is from. For example, My Dead Boyfriend has, for years, been William Holden. Not Golden-Boy-young-years Holden, nor Network-haggard-Holden, but sexy, 1960s Euro-living Holden, when he made forgettable movies like ‘Paris When it Sizzles’ and had an affair with Capucine. Eve’s Dead Boyfriend was Vernon Castle (well, she was writing a book about the Castles) but I’m not sure if he’s still “The One.”

Anyway, it seems like the Biography Channel has heard about My Dead Boyfriend, because a friend sent me ‘Your Dead Celebrity Soulmate,’ from their site. You fill out a fun little quiz and voila! It generates three profiles for you. How fun!

Hmm, I’ve done it twice and I’ve gotten the same three: Leonardo DaVinci, Edgar Allan Poe, and Rudolf Valentino.

“vini_veggie-vinci“’s fill-in-the-blank-section: “Youth and beauty is sexy. Engineering a system by which one can deliver running water through an estate is sexier.” Celebrity he most resembles? Willie Nelson.

“Raven” says the celebrity he most resembles is “Harry Dean Stanton,” and that “madness is sexy, but melancholia is sexier.”

“Delicious Shiek” claims he was “the Brad Pitt of my day!” and he has an Irish Wolfhound named Centaur Pendragon and a Doberman named Kabar.

Ay-yi-yi! No William Holden in sight.

Monkey biz w/Bill.

Morning in Hollywood:

Betcha didn’t know where the Crossroads of the World is: right here!

Read all about “The Hideous Kinky” at FindaDeath.

cheetos on the stairs at the studio, day 2.

life went thattta way.

hollywood tower, from the car, 8:50am.

stardust, hynotherapy … just another day on the lot.

rite aid: black velvet and popov vodka.

rite aid 2: yes, that’s red and black women’s undies. and yes, he is a man. a very, very stinky one with a large basket of cosmetics. and a big wad of money - i see him panhandling on sunset every day.

10am: screaming thru the bars at no one. did she think she was in jail?

101, 8:30 am: pink letters read: “this car powered by my PHAT ass!” the ‘my’ and ‘ass’ were added on.

wall across from school, hollywood.

freeway flotsam.

st stephens church at freeway exit. site of virgina rappe’s funeral service.

franklin pangborn’s star.

Boost: the day that the news story of the ‘Boost-caused-giant-hard-on’ was in the news.

Bokay’s on Sunset Blvd.

horsin’ around at Gower Gulch - a truck full of arcade machines.