AP Report: Hasselhoff Too Drunk to Fly
David Hasselhoff was turned away from a British Airways flight because he was drunk, a British newspaper reported Thursday.
The tabloid Sun said the former "Baywatch" and "Knight Rider" star was told he could not board the flight Wednesday from Heathrow Airport to Los Angeles. Witnesses told the newspaper Hasselhoff appeared to have trouble standing and told staff he was upset about his divorce from Pamela Bach.
The actor has had several brushes with the tabloid press during a recent stay in Britain.
Last month, he sliced four tendons and an artery in a shaving accident at his London hotel.
Thursday, July 27, 2006
Wednesday, July 26, 2006
Christmas Day 1926
Gramps strangest fight was against Chali Hussain, the one eyed arab.
Chali had lost an eye in a factory mis-hap in the early part of 1925. He had a glass eye that always seemed to get knocked sideways during a fight so it looked like either he had a lazy eye or he was eyeing some dame in the first row. Gramps said it was disconcerting because when the eye initially shifted it would cause gramps to look over where the eye was looking and then POW , Chali would hit him with a shot to the head. Sometimes the eye would rotate all the way around so it was just a white eye staring out at you. Gramps said it used to give him the willys.
He and Chali fought several times but the strangest fight was Christmas night 1926. Gramps said It was the coldest night of the year, blizzard conditions, but the promoters had too much invested to re-schedule. Somehow people managed to make it to the arena and by nine o'clock the place was packed. Cigar smoke filled the air and ladies were laughing and yelling to each other showing off the furs and jewelry they had received from "Santa".
The crowd didn't like Chali very much. He had a little pencil mustache and wore a shiny purple robe with arabic writing and images of the pyramids and camels. His second was a man named Roscoe Mohammed. Roscoe was a little skinny guy who always had a cigarette hanging from his lip. Somehow it just seemed to stick to his bottom lip and it would hang there or flap while he spoke, a long finger of ash clinging to the cigarette, waiting for just the right moment to drop onto Roscoe's already ash covered suit. Roscoe wasn't a Mohammedan like Chali. His real name was Roscoe Lefkowitz. Underneath his clothes he had a Saint Christopher medal and a small silver cross that his wife made him wear.
Gramps had been sick with the flu for several days and had been laying in bed until the day of the fight when he had forced himself to get up and start moving around. He was in no shape to fight but he knew if he didn't fight there'd be trouble. Better to go in, fight a few rounds, and get knocked out then to deal with those bastards, gramps said. I didn't ask who the bastards were. Gramps said there was just too much money changing hands for them to let something like the flu stop a good fight.
The first few rounds were horrible. Gramps got battered. Chali was out for blood and the crowd was crazy with hatred, screaming at Chali, screaming at gramps to kill the rat. Gramps had a cut over his eye and the blood was running into his eye. The bell rang and the third round ended. Gramps seconds worked on the cut and stopped it from bleeding.
"Give it up, Roy" Gramps second said. " He's killing you"
Gramps had a ringing in his ear and the crowd was loud. He thought he heard his second say "Give it to him, Roy."
Fuck it thought gramps, one more round, and then I'm out.
As he came out for the fourth round his legs felt a little better. He started punching harder and Chali's eye got slightly skewed. It was looking straight up as if seeking guidance from the almighty.
Coming out of a clinch Chali caught gramps with a sucker punch square on the chin and dropped him a like a sack of dirt.
The arena was spinning. Grown men were screaming at him to get up. Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion, spinning, twisting.
Gramps shook the cobwebs out of his head and slowly got to his feet. There was a fire in his head and his adrenaline kicked in. Chali had already thought he had won. He had his arms up and was taunting the crowd. When he started to turn toward where he thought gramps was laying, knocked out, it was on his blind side. He never saw it coming. Gramps hit the side of his head with a shot that would have busted a punching bag.
A news photographer captured the moment as it happened. The old sepia toned photo above gramps desk shows the scene - Gramps, bleeding from the cut on his eyebrow is throwing a fierce punch, his whole body behind it. Chali's face is a mass of contorsion, twisted and battered, as the glove mashes it. His body is at a forty five degree angle as his feet start to leave the ground. Behind them, in the crowd, a beautiful blonde woman is spilling her martini on a fat man seated next to her as she thows her body back. Her eyes and those of the fat man, captured in the brilliant flash of the photograph, are focused on an object floating above them.
Chali Hussain's glass eye.
Chali had lost an eye in a factory mis-hap in the early part of 1925. He had a glass eye that always seemed to get knocked sideways during a fight so it looked like either he had a lazy eye or he was eyeing some dame in the first row. Gramps said it was disconcerting because when the eye initially shifted it would cause gramps to look over where the eye was looking and then POW , Chali would hit him with a shot to the head. Sometimes the eye would rotate all the way around so it was just a white eye staring out at you. Gramps said it used to give him the willys.
He and Chali fought several times but the strangest fight was Christmas night 1926. Gramps said It was the coldest night of the year, blizzard conditions, but the promoters had too much invested to re-schedule. Somehow people managed to make it to the arena and by nine o'clock the place was packed. Cigar smoke filled the air and ladies were laughing and yelling to each other showing off the furs and jewelry they had received from "Santa".
The crowd didn't like Chali very much. He had a little pencil mustache and wore a shiny purple robe with arabic writing and images of the pyramids and camels. His second was a man named Roscoe Mohammed. Roscoe was a little skinny guy who always had a cigarette hanging from his lip. Somehow it just seemed to stick to his bottom lip and it would hang there or flap while he spoke, a long finger of ash clinging to the cigarette, waiting for just the right moment to drop onto Roscoe's already ash covered suit. Roscoe wasn't a Mohammedan like Chali. His real name was Roscoe Lefkowitz. Underneath his clothes he had a Saint Christopher medal and a small silver cross that his wife made him wear.
Gramps had been sick with the flu for several days and had been laying in bed until the day of the fight when he had forced himself to get up and start moving around. He was in no shape to fight but he knew if he didn't fight there'd be trouble. Better to go in, fight a few rounds, and get knocked out then to deal with those bastards, gramps said. I didn't ask who the bastards were. Gramps said there was just too much money changing hands for them to let something like the flu stop a good fight.
The first few rounds were horrible. Gramps got battered. Chali was out for blood and the crowd was crazy with hatred, screaming at Chali, screaming at gramps to kill the rat. Gramps had a cut over his eye and the blood was running into his eye. The bell rang and the third round ended. Gramps seconds worked on the cut and stopped it from bleeding.
"Give it up, Roy" Gramps second said. " He's killing you"
Gramps had a ringing in his ear and the crowd was loud. He thought he heard his second say "Give it to him, Roy."
Fuck it thought gramps, one more round, and then I'm out.
As he came out for the fourth round his legs felt a little better. He started punching harder and Chali's eye got slightly skewed. It was looking straight up as if seeking guidance from the almighty.
Coming out of a clinch Chali caught gramps with a sucker punch square on the chin and dropped him a like a sack of dirt.
The arena was spinning. Grown men were screaming at him to get up. Everything seemed to be happening in slow motion, spinning, twisting.
Gramps shook the cobwebs out of his head and slowly got to his feet. There was a fire in his head and his adrenaline kicked in. Chali had already thought he had won. He had his arms up and was taunting the crowd. When he started to turn toward where he thought gramps was laying, knocked out, it was on his blind side. He never saw it coming. Gramps hit the side of his head with a shot that would have busted a punching bag.
A news photographer captured the moment as it happened. The old sepia toned photo above gramps desk shows the scene - Gramps, bleeding from the cut on his eyebrow is throwing a fierce punch, his whole body behind it. Chali's face is a mass of contorsion, twisted and battered, as the glove mashes it. His body is at a forty five degree angle as his feet start to leave the ground. Behind them, in the crowd, a beautiful blonde woman is spilling her martini on a fat man seated next to her as she thows her body back. Her eyes and those of the fat man, captured in the brilliant flash of the photograph, are focused on an object floating above them.
Chali Hussain's glass eye.
Tuesday, July 25, 2006
Post Title
Port, sweet wine of the
gods
boozing in the basement
seeing gramps old boxing gloves
he was quite a fighter
1927 he fought Jimmy La Bonte
for the state title
LaBonte was a mean, half-insane yugoslavian
with a dreadful scar across his left eye
Labonte swore before the fight that he would kill gramps because
gramps had cast aspersions on Labonte's grasp of reality to the press.
what he actually said to Marv Goiter of the Springfield Times was that
Labonte was "batshit fucking loonie". Goiter paraphrased.
Gramps, bloodied and battered, and well behind in points, knocked out LaBonte in the twelfth round
with a vicious roundhouse undercut that Labonte never saw.
After the fight Labonte and gramps became friends and used to
drink together at the Rusty Crow saloon on Elvinhurst Ave.
"Butterscotch Schnapps and an occasional gimlet" gramps said.
"That's all he'd drink."
gods
boozing in the basement
seeing gramps old boxing gloves
he was quite a fighter
1927 he fought Jimmy La Bonte
for the state title
LaBonte was a mean, half-insane yugoslavian
with a dreadful scar across his left eye
Labonte swore before the fight that he would kill gramps because
gramps had cast aspersions on Labonte's grasp of reality to the press.
what he actually said to Marv Goiter of the Springfield Times was that
Labonte was "batshit fucking loonie". Goiter paraphrased.
Gramps, bloodied and battered, and well behind in points, knocked out LaBonte in the twelfth round
with a vicious roundhouse undercut that Labonte never saw.
After the fight Labonte and gramps became friends and used to
drink together at the Rusty Crow saloon on Elvinhurst Ave.
"Butterscotch Schnapps and an occasional gimlet" gramps said.
"That's all he'd drink."
Monday, July 24, 2006
Sunday April 12, 2004
Im waiting for the 4:30 train/
its coming down Molasses street/
im holding a bag of apples/
i'm wearing a pair of pants/
ive had a vision of god/
standing on the mountain/
his voice was made of tree leaves/
he didnt have no eyes/
abreast the citys future/
im storming in the pub/
ive lost my bag of apples/
Oh baby please dont cry/
sam mcdowell's on the line/
he's calling me i hear/
im waiting for the train/
my breath smells like beer/
it's gone and broken down/
we're standing in the queue/
she said she lost her glasses/
she got em at J Crew/
its coming down Molasses street/
im holding a bag of apples/
i'm wearing a pair of pants/
ive had a vision of god/
standing on the mountain/
his voice was made of tree leaves/
he didnt have no eyes/
abreast the citys future/
im storming in the pub/
ive lost my bag of apples/
Oh baby please dont cry/
sam mcdowell's on the line/
he's calling me i hear/
im waiting for the train/
my breath smells like beer/
it's gone and broken down/
we're standing in the queue/
she said she lost her glasses/
she got em at J Crew/
Friday, July 21, 2006
Dashboard man II: The Accident
dashboard man rides again
"into the wild unknown country where I
could not go wrong" he sings
these windows could use a wash, he thinks
out loud
above, a gull notices a swerving vehicle
and lands a large drop
of guano on its roof
he reaches for a disc
drops his cigarette into his lap
"fuck"
overcorrects and catches the
soft shoulder
wheels spin
"FUCK!"
over the edge and down a rambling hillside
through the chapparral toward the
buddhist retreat
manzanita and gooseberry
brambles tear and scrape
Below,
a meditating
young woman curses,
"What is that fucking noise?"
"into the wild unknown country where I
could not go wrong" he sings
these windows could use a wash, he thinks
out loud
above, a gull notices a swerving vehicle
and lands a large drop
of guano on its roof
he reaches for a disc
drops his cigarette into his lap
"fuck"
overcorrects and catches the
soft shoulder
wheels spin
"FUCK!"
over the edge and down a rambling hillside
through the chapparral toward the
buddhist retreat
manzanita and gooseberry
brambles tear and scrape
Below,
a meditating
young woman curses,
"What is that fucking noise?"
Wednesday, July 19, 2006
yahweh is a douche -law #614
bbc news- "Behold, Yahweh makes the earth empty, makes it waste, turns it upside down, and scatters its inhabitants.
The earth will be utterly emptied and utterly laid waste; for Yahweh has spoken this word.
Therefore the curse has devoured the earth, and those who dwell therein are found guilty. Therefore the inhabitants of the earth are burned, and few men left."
The House of Yahweh believes it is the one true faith which will be re-established in what it terms "the last days".
The sect members refer to their creator as Yahweh, not God, and the male followers all sport long goatee beards.
"We do not shave our beard completely or our head completely because there is a law in the 613 laws which states that a man should not shave completely his head or completely his beard," explains sect member Dominc Karichu.
"We want to follow each and every word that proceeds from Yahweh's mouth."
The earth will be utterly emptied and utterly laid waste; for Yahweh has spoken this word.
Therefore the curse has devoured the earth, and those who dwell therein are found guilty. Therefore the inhabitants of the earth are burned, and few men left."
The House of Yahweh believes it is the one true faith which will be re-established in what it terms "the last days".
The sect members refer to their creator as Yahweh, not God, and the male followers all sport long goatee beards.
"We do not shave our beard completely or our head completely because there is a law in the 613 laws which states that a man should not shave completely his head or completely his beard," explains sect member Dominc Karichu.
"We want to follow each and every word that proceeds from Yahweh's mouth."
Monday, July 17, 2006
The Hidden Costs of Cheap Hotels
1. On the verge of
a drastic wake
and bake
the barometer reads 1018 millibars
and reminds me of mini-bars
the hidden costs of
cheap hotels
and Palm Springs is
112 degrees
2. sometime in the future
forgetting what I was watching
turning over a magazine
Lindsay Wagner Lindsay Wagner Lindsay Wagner
3. My back is aching from extensive
use of "Massaging Hands"
I contemplate a foray to the Ice Machine
The coast is clear
I sprint
a drastic wake
and bake
the barometer reads 1018 millibars
and reminds me of mini-bars
the hidden costs of
cheap hotels
and Palm Springs is
112 degrees
2. sometime in the future
forgetting what I was watching
turning over a magazine
Lindsay Wagner Lindsay Wagner Lindsay Wagner
3. My back is aching from extensive
use of "Massaging Hands"
I contemplate a foray to the Ice Machine
The coast is clear
I sprint
In Mervyns
Bon voyage, Dashboard Man
you crimped crusader
your Lucky Strikes are wedged
against a time
sometime in the future
when
you know
friends are moving south
there was a time
when
you were clad
all jean shoulders to boots,
no longer,
your hand searchs
out new sizes
in Mervyns
you crimped crusader
your Lucky Strikes are wedged
against a time
sometime in the future
when
you know
friends are moving south
there was a time
when
you were clad
all jean shoulders to boots,
no longer,
your hand searchs
out new sizes
in Mervyns
Friday, July 14, 2006
car horn
with scorn
he effortlessly lifts
the broken eyelid and
glances
weariness amazes
his thoughtless being-
he is one with a pain, pounding
in his right shoulder
somewhere in the distance he hears
a car horn
in a cloth sack
he carries many severed heads
he remembers a game
he used to play
he effortlessly lifts
the broken eyelid and
glances
weariness amazes
his thoughtless being-
he is one with a pain, pounding
in his right shoulder
somewhere in the distance he hears
a car horn
in a cloth sack
he carries many severed heads
he remembers a game
he used to play
Wednesday, July 05, 2006
Hasselhoff in tussle with chandelier
BBC News- The All England Club has denied press reports that a "drunken" David Hasselhoff had to be removed from the Wimbledon tennis championships.
Security guards "knew nothing" of the claims, said a spokeswoman, adding the former Baywatch star "wasn't ejected".
He tried to enter the press centre while searching for Court 13 but was not correctly accredited, she added.
The actor, who is filming an advert in the UK, was treated for cuts last week after an accident with a chandelier.
Security guards "knew nothing" of the claims, said a spokeswoman, adding the former Baywatch star "wasn't ejected".
He tried to enter the press centre while searching for Court 13 but was not correctly accredited, she added.
The actor, who is filming an advert in the UK, was treated for cuts last week after an accident with a chandelier.
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