Yes, in the old dead Jerry Falwell hates it sense.

Yesterday I almost answered a craigslist ad looking for someone to update the web design for a gay porn site.  I could do it.  I have no objections.  I really need the money.

This is not really the first time this thought has crossed my mind.  I could start my own porn site.  But then, there's not really a particular niche that I like more than the other.  Maybe that could it -- something for everybody.  Everybody with good, legal, non-nasty taste.

Then again, I'd need some starting money to pay the actual models, hosting fees, etc. etc. etc.  Oh yes, and lawyers -- dirty, crooked ones that supply the grease (well most of it) that make that shitty porn business run.  And where would I find said models?

It's really just too daunting.

Yes, it's that time again when Beulah pretends she knows something about fashion.  Keep in mind that Beulah is still developing her style, after being relegated to the Old Navy and Eddie Bauer XXL for so many grueling years.  However, there are indeed some things that should not be done.  If you, dear reader, are wearing any of these things, STOP!

Let us begin with my favorite source of hate.  I usually take a walk through Marshall's in El Centro Lloyd, just to see what horrible things they have.  Here was one of them a few weeks ago (click it to enlarge for full Hallowe'en effect):

and, in case you forgot who brought you this hideousness:

then you can just look down and see HIS HOLY NAME emblazoned on your left breast.

Aside from that, I have been seeing a rise in incidence during these hard economic times of men bringing out their late-90s-era square-toed shoes.  Please, please, do not do this.  Back then, these shoes were a sure sign that you had 'the gay' especially if they had a pilgrim-like buckle on them. However, now they are just a no-no.  (This has reminded Beulah that she has a pair that need throwing out; however, they were not the clunky type.)  I saw two such men in a headhunter's office this morning.  If you are opposed to throwing them out, then by all means, costume time is upon us, so make use of them.  Get yourself a pair of culottes, a ruffled collar, some white stockings and a funky hat or powdered wig and go as your favorite 17th or 18th century character.

Oh, and in same headhunter office, I saw the other extreme.  A pair of shoes that came to a point that was at least a good three to four inches past the toe.

I'm sitting at Starbucks staring out at at homeless cart and thinking about Stevie Nicks dedication to witchcraft, Lindsey Buckingham, shawls, and Benzodiazepines. I just saw a man go by in cap-toed shoes. That used to be a sure sign of a homosexual, but these days those should not be worn. But now this lady's fierce boots have made up for it; however she is drinking hot coffee with a straw and that's not right. There goes another bum. So back to Stevie... 'sometimes it's a bitch/ sometimes it's a breeze'. Can I get a fajita y margarita?

Well, I was able to sleep through most of the night, but I got up around 4:00.  I started watching this crazy Bert Reynolds movie on MGM HD, called Gator.  It's an incredibly bad movie about moonshining and police corruption in the part of Florida that's part of the South.  Anyway, there's a scene in it with Alice Ghostley (Bernice Clifton from Designing Women).  Actually her appearance makes the movie worthwhile.  I guess she's always played crazy: the character in this movie had two cats she took everywhere, and she started randomly singing.  What I didn't realize was that Alice was born in Missouri.

This late night/early morning TV thing is awful.  I rarely watch TV as it is.  Last night I saw infomercials for, not one, but THREE different steam cleaning products.