This is the Dazzled by Twilight store. As you can see, it is the official store for Twilight tours, never mind that Forks is actually 70 miles away. This is where you can purchase your Twilight umbrellas (which you will need in Forks), your “Hey Edward, Wanna Neck?” T-shirts, and your Twilight lunch boxes for a quick bite.

The Dynasty used to be the best Chinese restaurant on the peninsula but it has been busted to a Finalist. And this is because the A&W is now Tendy’s Garden. Yessir, the competition is furious.

Like all sharp entrepreneurs these days, the Sportsmen Motel has added a second business to its model. Chainsaw art. Long time readers of the Back Nine, will recall that this is one of my favorite art forms. But Sportsmen’s has upped its game … you can chose plain or painted.

Well, that’s all that’s fit to print for now. Hope all of you are out there being lazy this Labor Day. Love from the Back Nine.

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Yahoo headline: Possible Mammoth Tusk found on Southern California Island “It’s very difficult to tell whether or not you’re dealing with mammoth bones,” the expert said. It does seem like there’d be a couple of clues though, doesn’t it?

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Just in case you’re behind on your Finnish or Swedish scientific reports, here’s the best news of the decade: “Middle-aged people who drank between three and five cups of coffee a day lowered their risk of developing dementia and Alzheimer’s disease by between 60 and 65 percent later in life.” Just think, the ol’ beans may be bad for most everything else, but they’re great for the Old Bean.

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“I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: ‘We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal.’ I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin, but by the content of their character.” Happy MLK Day everybody. And, oh yes, Inauguration Day.

Bella in her Christmas finery

2. I picked a fight with Sis. She has purchased a ridiculous asinine item she will enjoy very much and it’s none of my goddamn business. I know that, ok, so I suggest you keep any pollyanna-ish opinions to yourselves.

3. Not yet convinced that my New Year celebration was complete, I picked a fight with the Mister. If you really want to feel good about yourself, try berating a man in a hospital bed.

4. I can’t win at Spider Solitaire since New Year’s Eve and I am sure the Compu-noia gods are messing with me. It is embarrassing to admit that I am an SS addict, but come to think of it, maybe not so embarrassing since at least one of you is in to ass porn. You know who you are.

5. I am furious with the weather. I haven’t been able to get to Rite-Aid to purchase the half price Christmas candy before they swapped it out for the Valentine candy.

6. I have now received the fourth rejection of my query letter about my manuscript. Maybe I should have listened to Josh all along.

Anyway, if you’re looking for anyone to kick your dog, pick a fight, or call you names, I’m your woman. Happy fucking New Year from the back nine.

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Contest! Win! Win! Those of you who have hung around the Back Nine for a while know there is almost never a reference to golf. I don’t give a shit about golf. To me, being on the back nine refers to being closer to the end of life than the beginning … I’m the oldest year of the baby boomers. Short Game entries refer to these posts that are little bits about nothing much. I am now bored with Short Game as a title. I have considered Short Putts but said aloud, it is quite rude. And I am nothing if not polite (hehe). Anyway, have any suggestions?
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On second thought: In my last post I asked a perfectly innocent question about what goes on at Day Care so I can have a realistic character in my book. I get this from Josh:

… In fact, I think your story would probably be more interesting if you just had a character that didn’t know shit about kids, but was stuck working in a daycare. It could even be like an odd couple, or bunch rather. Maybe a burly biker dude would be the daycare butler (I’m assuming this daycare is being held in a huge mansion, in space) and he would be scary but turns out he wouldn’t hurt a fly, except for occasionally when he forgets to be nice and stabs a person or two. And you could have a Rasta cook that always makes crappy food cause they have the munchies and think everything tastes good. Actually, make that a Mexican Rasta, that would be funnier. And when he wasn’t cooking bad Mexican Jamaican food, he could try to teach all the kids broken English with two accents. Throw in an uptight British lady who runs the joint, but has a secret drinking problem, and an aspiring actress/dancer/singer retard. You know the type, the damaged goods that always move to LA or New York, and maybe she was abused as a child, but now she developed the power to move things with her mind, and uses that to protect all the children from the vicious space wolves and their Cthulhu masters who want to slaughter everyone in the space mansion daycare center and harvest their souls for the coming apocalypse. So basically I don’t know anything about daycare, sorry.

And maybe I don’t want readership help naming the Short Game feature after all.

Speaking of readers and writers, Musings from the Left Coast is blogging again. You can see the link to her there to the left. Welcome back, Lab Lady.
Christmas recap: Charlie was to only one of these goddamn dogs that would wear the jingle bells and, as you can see, he was none to gracious about it. And we’ve spent how much on non-China-poisoned kibble this year? You mutts better watch your step in 2009.
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In fact, we should all watch our step in 2009 … here’s hoping it’s a wonderful year. Now please pass the macaroni and cheese.

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Lots of military flying home for Christmas, especially through places like Atlanta that are such huge hubs. Young men flying alone, or with young wives and younger babies. They all look like eighth graders to me. Of course, they get the worst stand-by seats and the most circuitous routes; the fellow next to me was going from Pensacola to Reno via Seattle. But – and what an important but - one nice thing. Even though we’re slogging through another hateful war, Americans are loving our soldiers this time around. At least we’ve learned that from history. I watched as civilians came up to youngsters in camo fatigues in order to thank them, or to wish them well. They were given the chance to leave our plane before other customers to make their connections. And the customers applauded them. Actually applauded. God bless us everyone.

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I’ve mentioned the holiday newsletter the Mister and I used to write. Here is an excerpt called Santa in Other Lands:

• In England, Santa puts food in your stockings.
• In Germany, Santa crashes into your house, lines up your tin soldiers, and makes your toy trains run on time.
• In France, Santa criticizes your holiday decorations and is rude to your parents.
• In Japan, Santa is polite to your parents, then commits suicide in your living room.
• In Sweden, Santa arrives around midnight and gets in bed with your mother.

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Parting shot: May sugar plums – or Clive Owen or whatever else makes you feel toasty – dance in your head. May chipmunks form trios and sing to you. May reindeers prance on your rooftop. May a loved one really nog your eggs. Christmas cheer to each of you from the back nine.