Zipper Found

This picture was taken of Zipper on special assignment in her new disguise as a old male Siamese. She is spying on Brangelina. She can go places the paparazzi would never dream to enter. Keep this under wraps. If you out her, she could lose one of her 9 lives.
Meow, Yola

Have you seen this cat?

Color: gray and white
Eyes: evil
Sex: noisy

Help! Our little friend Zipper has not been heard from in over three weeks, and we here at Yolawriters are worried sick! She could be drunk in the alley behind some sleazy tavern, roadkill on Cesar Chavez Blvd or tonight’s entrée in a Vietnamese restaurant.

No collar, no chip, no neutering. This cat is nobody’s chattel.

Most likely place to find her: In your house at night, on your computer surfing kitty porn.

Beware: She still has all her claws. She chases dogs, eats possums, and has been known to bite small children and dwarfs off at the ankles. Responds well to a good wookie impression.

Who killed Michael Jackson?

This just in…
According to the 24-hour Death of Michael Jackson Channel (which is all I watch anymore) the list of suspects, originally numbering in the billions, has now narrowed to several million. Of those, investigators now consider these ten to be most likely:

10. Joe (anything to get on TV) Jackson
9. Al (anything to get on TV) Sharpton
8. Al (it improved the environment) Gore
7. Diana Ross (for impersonating a diva)
6. Simon Cowell (for impersonating a singer)
5. Elvis (for impersonating a king)
4. Prince (long live the new king)
3. Cock Robin (wait, isn’t he dead?)
2. O.J. (I’ll find the real killer) Simpson
1. Pontius Pilate

Got favorite suspects of your own? Trot ‘em on out. The world is dying to hear.

A fine day for skinny dipping.

This fine art brought to you as a public service by Yolawriters.

What Day Is It Again?

Good afternoon, little things. It is I, Yola. Friday is…obviously the day following Thursday. I must have celebrated the Chavez rather too much last night. I'm still not quite sure what happened. There was a place, there was a guy, there was some green stuff in a tiny bitty little glass..and then whammo. No memory until I woke up in Casa City of Portland this morning. The girl on the bench next to mine says I have a big ol' slut stamp on my wherever those things go, but honestly I just can't see it.

Toaster is playing my woman, Diamanda Galas, See That My Grave Is Kept Clean. And I really mean it. Please see the groundskeepers fill in the dead patches in the lawn after the leaves fall. That could be any minute, the way my head feels. Whoo.

Anyways, waiting for my lawyer like this puts me in mind of the old word game. What's your favorite book to read when you are A) sick; B) hung-over? And when are you (and by you I mean me) ever going to get back to writing? Answers cannot be accepted collect, people.

At the corner of Free Tibet Parkway and Rogaine Road.

The City Council here in Yolaville is merrily renaming streets. First it was Martin Luther King Jr. Blvd, then Rosa Parks Way, and just last week they announced a final (and unanimous) YES vote on Cesar Chavez Boulevard.

Never mind that 87% of the public were against it. Never mind that it will cost taxpayers a projected $86,000 and businesses and residents thousands more. They were merely dragging us kicking and screaming into what they knew was best for us.

What’s next? Harvey Milk Avenue, of course. That’s a given. The only question is, where do we go from there? Most likely, they'll continue their current path of kowtowing to whatever special interest group beats the loudest drum, so we could soon see Klamath Tribe Ave, Save The Whales Blvd and Share The Road Road.

Then again, they could follow their current bent of doing what their little hearts think is best, whether we like it or not. Eat Your Vegetables Avenue. Obesity Kills Blvd. Turn Off Your TV St.

I’m suggesting a new direction. Or several. First, why not pick names that will bring in money instead of wasting it? I’m talking corporate sponsorship, of course. Taco Bell Blvd. Cheetos St. (That's the street for me!) Exxon Mobile Ave.

If that’s too crass for you, how about some street names people would at least like? Name ‘em after movies. Wizard of Oz Ave. Or TV shows. Lost Blvd. Or songs. Louie, Louie St. Or even books. Madison, After Ave. Heck, we could set aside a whole string of streets to be renamed every year after the latest crop of American Idol finalists.

They could even be inspirational. We could rename several streets in a row, so people could take them in Burma-Shave style. I Think That I Shall Never See St., followed by A Poem Lovely As A Tree St., etc. Or maybe three streets in a row named Yadda. Or we could be more subtle, educating folks via literary allusion. Like Mean St..

Let’s get creative, people, and let’s put pressure on the politicians. Wouldn’t you, in your heart of hearts, love to live on Spock St.? Or Yola Ave.? I thought so.

Yola Wants 300. Of Anything

Morning, insects. It is I, Yola. Wednesday, being eat what you kill day, I am most likely to be found pacing the halls, waiting for my 11 o'clock. I hope they had garlic last night. And a glass or five of wine, preferably a decent Barbera.

What's on the toaster? Roxy Music's Flesh and Blood. It's what the Liebestod sounds like on champagne and Novocain, if you like that kind of Germanic hooey. Which I don't. Where's the change up switch? Ah, Screamin' Jay, here I come.

It's all because I tried to watch 300 last night. I'm as happy as the next gal to see my spear dripping with blood, and men in skimpy leather jerkins is always welcome after a long day of Hugo Boss. But what part of over the top didn't these animation boys understand? Dialogue is not a blunt weapon, people. SHUT UP, King Leonides. SHOVE that self-serving Sparta crap and let me watch the show. For a bunch of boo-yah chanting hooligans, they sure spend a lot of time pissing around.

So I ask you people, what movie drives you the most crazy? Let me rephrase (I hear BJ tuning up for more flash fiction, G-d knows we don't want that): what otherwise interesting flick has one little deal-breaker that makes you want to kill the producer? And by kill, I don't mean kill. Do that on your time, please.