dbigtex56

Southland Hardware on Westheimer has been around for decades. Worth making a special trip - good selection, and the employees are friendly and knowledgable.

The Southern Republican reply (in my case) is: "Forget about the wife (spouse); you're not allowed to marry. Forget about the children; you're not allowed to adopt them. And forget about the gun too; you're not allowed to defend your country. In fact, we're on the terrorist's side on this one."

Didn't blow a lot of money on landscaping, did they? I've pondered over what architectural style this falls into, and I'm pretty much convinced that it's Texas Wacky-Ass. This is the epitome of what Houstonians fear that outsiders think we build here.

"In the beginning there was nothing. God said, 'Let there be light!' And there was light. There was still nothing, but you could see it a whole lot better." - Ellen DeGeneres

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Welcome to HAIF, RustyB. I'd hate it too, but! what an opportunity! Ever think of rigging up a couple of laser pointers, so you could make her eyes glow when people stop to admire her?

How do the meatmen feel about gay marriage?

OK, suppose that this is the asteroid that makes us one with the dinosaurs, and it's a certainty. How are you going to spend your last four weeks on Earth? I'm thinking of re-grouting my bathroom and learning the bassoon. 28 days...six hours...42 minutes...12 seconds

No poet I. Yet here is Hulda calling, hailing me gently, urging me to sing, to share my song with shadows gently falling and shepherds driving flocks from pasturing, while tumbled waters wash the hills' foundations and wake the elves to nighttime occupations. from The Lay of Hulda (I'm not kidding).

409 W. Clay, to be exact. And I think it's still for rent - was advertised in the Houston Press recently.

That's Mr. Balls. He wandered into Mary's when he was barely more than a kitten, and decided to stay. He was named Mr. Balls because he had the most extraordinary testicles. They were enormous! Had his own barstool, and would get quite pissy with anyone who tried to move him. I've seen fights nearly break out when some of Mr. Ball's human friends would defend his turf against newcomers who didn't understand that he held an exulted position in that bar. Mr. Balls was a fixture for about 10 years, before he finally succombed to cancer - the effects of too much second-hand smoke, I assume. Was sorry to hear that the rest of the mural had been painted over, as I knew some of the people depicted. The bartender with the leather cap was Will ("Wilhelmina"), the plump lady at the bar was Cassandra, the portly fellow in leather harness was Scotty. He used to do Mary's front windows when they changed on a weekly basis, and was also the artist who painted that mural. I just hope Mary's doesn't replace its photo bartop, as there's a picture of me on it, circa 1983.

Most infuriating local ad (for me) has to be Lone Star Chevy, where that drawling dip in the cowboy hat scowls, points his finger at me and growls "It's the LAW!" No, it's not the law, you lyin' little fake sheriff. Stop claiming it is. Why would anyone buy a used car from this man?

Should be interesting to see how that site is configured, and if other buildings are slated for the wrecking ball. Where's the parking going to go? And is that alley between Montrose and Stanford still an active right of way?

So who decides which hermeneutics are proper? If one passage cannot be interpreted literally, who's to say that others - such as those which seemingly oppose homosexuality - likewise cannot be interpreted literally? On the other hand hermanutics when used in conjunction with gomezutics almost always lead to incontestable truths about mid 60s camp-horror television.

First, even if I did know, I don't think I'd broadcast it in public. Second, why do you ask? Third, do you know how the Edit function works? It comes in handy if you accidently misspell a thing or two. Or three.

It's really beside - not behind - the Stop & Rob (now known as Diamond Shamrock...oops, Velero. Jeez.) Mr. Lincoln was originally given a little more respect; the street continued northward to Bomar Street Lincoln was eliminated except that one block north of Westheimer, then the two western lanes of Montrose Blvd bend to follow its original path. Other presidential streets in the neighborhood include(d) Madison (joined with and renamed Yoakum), VanBuren and (further east) Taft. Oddly, Pierce and Washington seem to stand on their own further north.

I've been mulling this matter over for the past couple of days, and what strikes me as peculiar is the great lengths people have taken to avoid speaking honestly on this thread. U of H in general and Frenchie's in particular have a persistant reputation for black against white bigotry and harassment. And for some reason that seems to be OK with some people. Imagine if Trophy_Property's reply to the man who 'humorously' called him/her a "cracker" had been "Hey, you don't need to be so cold, Fudgesickle!" Suddenly, that's not funny at all. What nerve! Such a unfeeling, ignorant bigot! But wait...no one mentioned race at all in any of these posts. Why am I assuming that the Frenchie's patrons were black and that Trophy Property is white? Because it's true. Isn't it? And I don't know how someone has special knowledge that this is an isolated incident. How come I've heard similar stories over and again for 20+ years about this specific restaurant? Gee, if it was some sort of random racial bias, you'd think that it would apply to other places as well. The only other place that comes to mind is U of H's cafeteria, especially when the atheletes are eating there. When white students get trays knocked out of their hands or off their tables, or their food stolen or spit on, no one is supposed to mention it. Why? While we're at it, when did it become stylish to vaguely say 'inner city' when what's meant is black? What is it about the truth that people find repellent? I strongly dislike bigots and bullies, whatever their race. I think Dr. King would be disappointed in the content of these young peoples' charactor. And I don't understand why the U of H and Frenchie's continue to put up with this crap. I suppose I'll be asked to substantiate the incidents that I've referred to. I can't. I don't have videotape or DNA evidence. I'm just repeating what I've heard over and over again about this one particular place. People have no problem with believing that there's certain areas where white-against-black bigotry is common (Vidor, Texas anyone?) yet suddenly believe that the reverse cannot possibly be true. And that sucks.

While it's true that much of Manhattan is easily navigated, don't forget that trainwreck of streets in the West Village, where one finds Little West 12th intersecting with 23rd(?) and other seemingly impossible configurations, all built on geometry that would make Euclid weep. An example in Houston would be that ragged edge where the downtown street pattern meets the true east-west grid of The Montrose. Even people who have lived here for years find it easy to get turned around in those oddly angled blocks.

What's so bad about living next to a jail? It's not like your neighbors are going to be honking their horns, or playing loud music, or breaking into houses, or attacking people. THEY"RE...IN...JAIL!

That's very disappointing. I'd always heard that Texans were friendly.

But is it historically accurate?

If they're aluminum, that's a distinct possibility. Metal prices have really soared recently, and that MD 20/20 doesn't buy itself.

Yes, the flatulant are much envied in Iceland. The traditional native clothing includes steel and flint insets in undergarments. As you can imagine, this leads to both great joy...and sorrow. One of the lost Hulda recordings tells of her young lover whom she fed a meal of fermented fish - and her inconsolable grief when he was lost to spontanious human combustion.

I think of that little puzzle in the comics section. Shouldn't they advertise that they sell N O S T U D or F E F C O E ?