Antiquary
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posted on August 31, 2000 12:26:29 PM
Yes, Flannery O'Connor was exactly where I thought you were going earlier--much more suited to these chatboards. And the religious stuff from the potato/Christ thread in the psycholgical background completes the mental imagery. Though the snippet of quote from her I don't place. Seems somewhat odd to use in conjunction with a cyber relationship -- but hey no one except the newly reincarnated but freshly deceased unmentionable is perfect. What was the title of the short story about the amuptee Bible salesman? 
Equal time to Pareau -- The Dog on a Hot Incline post, now that was marketable stuff. My vote for best post.
Anyway, the other thread was locked when I dropped back this way, but I had to comment. So carry on or not, as anyone sees fit.
edited for word omission
[ edited by Antiquary on Aug 31, 2000 12:28 PM ]
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ShellyHerr
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posted on August 31, 2000 12:52:44 PM
All I ask is why? 
But if ya wanna talk about Christ in a Spud, that is much more chatboard talk than some 'artist chick, who types out how attractive she is in leopard skin, her height and weight, and that she's got a cyber love thing goin with someone that isn't to be mentioned' Yikes! LOL!!!!!
Artdoggy, I could never compare to you.... this I say, as I am middleaged, don't wear leopardskin, don't drive in a convertible Jeep round Louisiana (though I thought you were in Alabama... oh well same difference! ) and do NOT want to sell any underwear, new or used on ebay, but I think that you should... after all the posts you made about it, I hope the biz is good for you Good luck! (for your underwear biz and your cyber love )
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spazmodeus
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posted on August 31, 2000 01:09:33 PM
Dan,
He wasn't an amputee Bible salesman. He was a Bible salesman who went from town to town conning handicapped women into revealing their most private selves to him. In one case, an amputee takes off her prosthetic leg at his sweet request; in the other instance, which was the primary scene in the story, a young woman takes out her glass eye and shows it to him. The upshot is that he steals the leg, the eye, and who knows what else from all these poor women that he cons with his sweet talk. Unless I'm mistaken, the name of the story was "Good Country Folk" which is an ironic reference to the eye-girl's mother's appraisal of the Bible salesman coming up the walk as "good country folk."
Joyce Carol Oates seems to take a lot of cues from Flannery O'Connor.
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Antiquary
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posted on August 31, 2000 01:17:05 PM
Thanks, spaz!!! Yes, that is it exactly. Probably been twenty years or more since I read it. I think I got the two separate characters confused, the man and girl, and was thinking of them as one in the same. Can't imagine how that could have happened.
edited to add: Your puns are great!
[ edited by Antiquary on Aug 31, 2000 01:24 PM ]
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artdoggy
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posted on August 31, 2000 01:47:23 PM
You are both wrong, that was Hulga, who had a degree in philosophey and was tortured by country cliches. This story is about the principal and teacher siblings, whose mother has to go pick them up at the train station because they are returning from New York. She has a farm and her children have so "over educated" beyond their intelligence level. I would never sell my panties. I don't wear panties. I like my freedom.
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krs
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posted on August 31, 2000 01:55:27 PM
And so do your lice?
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njrazd
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posted on August 31, 2000 01:55:55 PM
artdoggy...does your husband know about your infatuation with the "nameless one?"
*****************
That's Flunky Gerbiltush to you!
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artdoggy
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posted on August 31, 2000 02:05:56 PM
No my husband does not know, but he can tell I am acting differently. I am so mad at him because he refuses to let me wear my wigs around town. We live in a small southern town. I have a beautiful blue wig I want to wear with my blue leather dress for art night. He says when I start wearing wigs, he will be gone for sure. He says that he just can't take it anymore. He is a yankee. He says southern girls are different but I don't know about that. He has put up with a lot I must say. Especially the time I painted my face blue and covered my hair in twigs from the mississippi river. I made myself a grass skirt. I thought he would like it. He left me for about 3 weeks. But he came back for more, it is his own fault.
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bobbi355
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posted on August 31, 2000 02:06:13 PM
okay.........is all this REALLY for real?? Is this artdoggy the same person who is so "busy" making jewelry, running her store, managing eBay, running around town at night in her jeep, wallowing around in the bed on her cotton sheets (but they make her tan look good), and has the time to be posting messages about how much she is in love with some faceless person on a computer screen?? Every day I think I've seen it all.......and then another one pops out from cyberspace and amazes me again.......this is quite entertaining, I must say!!
[ edited by bobbi355 on Aug 31, 2000 02:09 PM ]
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artdoggy
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posted on August 31, 2000 02:10:09 PM
This is the beauty of having teenage employees. I have many girls from the local catholic girls high school working for me. Ha ha! They work cheap and do a great job. Not mention they have cool uniforms.
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corrdogg
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posted on August 31, 2000 02:10:25 PM
And as the preacher disappeared into the distance she called out, "I'll keep my eye out for ya', honey"!
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ShellyHerr
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posted on August 31, 2000 02:16:19 PM
krs Ewwwwwwwwwwww!!!!! but LOL!! (only cuz I was reading this to my brother over the phone, and he bout spit up his lunch! )
artdoggy I do sympathize with the husband thing going on, how dare him not allow you to do all that? Damn Yankees!
Wait! I am a Yankee, at least when I was in Okleehoma they called me that!
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artdoggy
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posted on August 31, 2000 02:20:46 PM
If you want to know more about me I will be glad to tell you. Before I got married I was a fortune teller on a famous riverboat in New Orleans. I worked for a company called Paper Dolls. I would dress in low cut long black silk dresses that were off the shoulder. I covered my clevage and shoulders in Diva Dust. It sparkles like little diamonds all over your skin. I alway wore a black veil. I made a great deal of money in the industry. One day a very well known New Olreans writer came to see me. I had an encounter with her deceased daughter and we had a very intense session. It was after that that I left the world of the paranormal and decided to get married. I was very afraid I was going to be possessed by spirits of the netherworld. So this is why I can have feelings for the nameless one. I have special soul powers.
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Antiquary
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posted on August 31, 2000 02:21:40 PM
corr-dog
artdoggy -- Hulga/Joy was educated, Phd in philosophy, but the story itself doesn't deal with the details of her education, teachers, principal, etc. This is essential background information, however. Nonetheless, interesting associations and references to her intellectualization of intellectual nihilism.
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artdoggy
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posted on August 31, 2000 02:27:28 PM
Iknow antiquary, I did not make my self clear. The story involving the children who could not do much was not the story of Hulga. I can't remember the name of the story but the son had to come home from new york because he was sick. I like to read flannery O'conner on my granny's screened in porch. I can smell all the flowers, like the 4'oclocks and the crate myrtle. Its all part of my southern experience.
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corrdogg
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posted on August 31, 2000 02:34:20 PM
...whilst nibbling crate suzettes?
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njrazd
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posted on August 31, 2000 02:38:20 PM
Was the "Nameless One" into paranormal also or is that CheyenneRoundup? All these new users are getting me confused!! 
***************
That's Flunky Gerbiltush to you!
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artdoggy
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posted on August 31, 2000 03:00:08 PM
I have guilt. Many of my lovers developed brain disorders when they dated me. 2 I know of are in the state mental hospital. My husband said they should name a wing after me. I think this is a cruel thing to say to me. Can't any of you feel my special pain! He also will not let me sing Harper Valley PTA with the band on art night. It has been one of my dreams to sing this song live. I think he just wants to keep me in the closet. I majored in the theatre in college. He just despises to see me on stage. I did a wonderful version of Blanche Dubois in the Tennesse Williams festival. Everyone loved it. He said that it is not right for me to wear low-cut dresses on the stage and that is why everyone applauds so loudly and that i am not that good of an actress. This hurts me to the core that he should say such a thing. The only reason I did not go to hollywood is because I received a head injury falling off a stage during the Noel Coward festival. He said it was the highlight of my career.
[ edited by artdoggy on Aug 31, 2000 03:02 PM ]
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kitsch1
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posted on August 31, 2000 03:51:37 PM
It's a good show. I'm totally enjoying it! I've quite recently had a wacko stress related board post embarassment. I don't feel quite so alone anymore.
Post on....post on.
http://members.ebay.com/aboutme/[email protected]/
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jada
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posted on August 31, 2000 04:09:56 PM
"crate" myrtle always makes me think of mint "julups".
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artdoggy
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posted on August 31, 2000 04:17:07 PM
I know how to spell! I just write so fast I make mistakes. I don't have a spell checker... like I'm sure all you spelling bee champs have! Ha ha ha ha ha Or maybe you keep a BIG dictionary by the computer, or a Thesaurus, because posting on a message board is so important... to make sure all you t are crossed and all your i's are dotted when you take on such intellectual topics as ethnic barbi dolls or prose about your auctions on Ebay. I am rolling with LAFFTER! HA HA HA HA
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krs
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posted on August 31, 2000 04:24:40 PM
artdoggy,
"Many of my lovers developed brain disorders when they dated me."
More likely their brain disorders had simply gone undiagnosed before they sought relief from your grasping.
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kitsch1
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posted on August 31, 2000 04:28:12 PM
We all have a spell checker, a history checker and a facts checker. Well sort of, it's more like a large group of unpaid editors.
Actually it's kinda cool, let's say you need the exact date in history. You'd come here and say Lincoln was assasanited in 1845. You'd get (FOR FREE mind you) a correction on the spellin of assasinated AND the correct date of Lincolns untimelt demise.
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artdoggy
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posted on August 31, 2000 04:40:02 PM
kitsch, your about me page is rather thin wouldn't you say? You auctions pretty much match the bio-why do you even list the link? There is nothing there?
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kitsch1
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posted on August 31, 2000 04:45:31 PM
Well, lets nit pick some then aye?
OK, Sometimes out of sheer stupidity I forget to uncheck the sig line thingy. Please do check back after Labor Day.
Thank you for your interest. I'm honored that you pulled up my ME page.
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enchanted
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posted on August 31, 2000 04:48:19 PM
that's irrelevant about someone's auctions.
get back to the panties, artdoggy, I'm a big fan of your posts, think panties... go for it
if you're tired of talking about panties you could always talk about southern food that's a good subject too
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artdoggy
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posted on August 31, 2000 04:49:04 PM
I'm so glad you are honored. Didn't mean to hurt your feelings, I just figured anybody who goes to the trouble to post a link, must have somthing really good to read about. I will check after labor day. Due to the large amount of enemies I an incurring, i will leave my Ebay page out of the loop!
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ShellyHerr
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posted on August 31, 2000 04:49:41 PM
artdoggy, this was amusing until you had to throw a low blow... 
hmmmm, well lessee, may we all see your 'Me' page or listings, only fair!
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artdoggy
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posted on August 31, 2000 05:01:46 PM
Don't feel cheated about the about me page! How could I ever post more about myself than I have on these threads! I would be thrown off ebay if I told all this stuff. This is practically an autobiography. Southern Food and Panties. Well my mother started the whole panty fascination. She said I always had to have on fresh clean white cotton panties so if I were killed in a carwreck I would not be disgraced. I also learned that I was not suppose to open my legs in church because it made the preacher mad. So I had to learn to cross my legs. It really hurt my feelings as a little girl when I was told the shut my legs, henceforth my fasination with liberation, selling the unmentionalbe with extroidinary powers to both revile and compell. As far as southern food is concerned my grandmother fried the best chicken in the land. She killed them right before dinner with a nice sharp ax. When you cut their heads off, you have to wait for the chicken to stop running around. When the body finally dropped, she scalded it and picked off all the feathers. The she quarted it with a huge butcher knife that had been in my family for generations. The she would fry it. We would all sit down to eat in the main dining room. All the dead fried chicken's fellow chickens would come and look in to picture window to see us devouring him. We washed it down with with ice tea with fresh mint. Then everybody took a nap upstairs after it was all over. It was customary in my upbringing that all the women nap at 1:00 In the afternoon...In our underwear.
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kitsch1
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posted on August 31, 2000 05:03:19 PM
Just to clarify
My feelings are not hurt. LOL I don't have auctions up. Woohoooo! Edited for brashness. Can't do it.
[ edited by kitsch1 on Aug 31, 2000 05:08 PM ]
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