Wednesday, October 7, 2015


Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

I'm shocked! Shocked, I tell you! In awe of the results! Where we're going, we don't need roads.

My October 1, 2015, Battle of the Bands countered Miley Cyrus against The White Stripes on Dolly Parton's song Jolene. I thought Miley would win easily, even though she's so annoying. I felt that way because I realize Jack White, although he is one of the loves of my life, is a little strange.

The score is much closer than I thought it would be. Miley wins, but not by much. It's

 Miley Cyrus                  13

The White Stripes    11

Because we all prefer to hear Dolly Parton on Jolene, I promised she would sing for you today. But first, we need a little background information.

Dolly Parton tells us: "One night, I was on stage, and there was this beautiful little girl — she was probably 8 years old at the time," Parton says. "And she had this beautiful red hair, this beautiful skin, these beautiful green eyes, and she was looking up at me, holding, you know, for an autograph. I said, 'Well, you're the prettiest little thing I ever saw. So what is your name?' And she said, 'Jolene.' And I said, 'Jolene. Jolene. Jolene. Jolene.' I said, 'That is pretty. That sounds like a song. I'm going to write a song about that.'" Parton says that she got the story for her song from another redhead in her life at the time — a bank teller who was giving Parton's new husband a little more interest than he had coming. (SOURCE)

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

Tuesday, October 6, 2015


Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

You have until midnight EST today, Tuesday, October 6th, to vote on my Oct. 1, 2015, Battle of the Bands. The song is Jolene. Vote in your comment for Miley Cyrus or The White Stripes.

HERE is the original post.

As a special, added bonus attraction, I hereby provide two more videos by Miley and the Stripes.

A number of you mentioned you liked the way Miley sang in The Backyard Sessions. Well, eat it up.

Miley Cyrus truly has a good voice and needs to cut out the weird crap.

Jack White, on the other hand, will not cut out the weird crap and shouldn't try to do so because it's part of who he is. Here's one of my favorite White Stripes songs:

I feel quite moved by this sweet video.

Remember, you are not voting on these two songs. You're voting on Miley Cyrus v. The White Stripes for their rendition of Dolly Parton's Jolene.

I'll tell you the results tomorrow.

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug


Hi, Gang!

I haven't gotten around to reading your Question of the Month posts--but I hope to do so today--and I need to edit.

You see, yesterday was a long day.

Penelope would not go outside because of the men STILL working on the house next door. She and Franklin freak out when people work over there and make noise with power tools and radios. They even shout at each other.

It's too much for sensitive dogs.

For the first time, Penelope had a potty accident in the house. I needed to wash two pairs of my slippers, multiple cleaning cloths, and many towels. It wasn't pretty, but one accident in two or so weeks is quite good for a little girl who never lived inside before. Penelope didn't need my forgiveness because I wasn't angry. I sympathized. I don't like to go outside with boisterous men hanging around.

The dishwasher repairman arrived yesterday afternoon and left without repairing the dishwasher because of a misunderstanding over payment for his services (I have an extended warranty that covers certain problems, including the pump, which was the broken part). I called Lowe's and let loose my inner child; i.e., I wailed and cried because the dishwasher was broken (again), and the guy insisted I had to pay $123 for five minutes of labor, though the part was covered.

Wrong, buddy boy! Labor was covered, too. I reached the repairman, and he returned. I don't expect the repair to last. The pump is made of cheap plastic.

He also said that the dishwasher had been installed incorrectly. The drain hose wasn't where it belonged, so wash water drained from the dishwasher and then poured back in on the dishes when the cycle ended. Now I know why it was extra wet in the dishwasher. I've also had upset tummy problems for quite some time.

Makes a person wonder, don'tcha know?

Sing us out, please, Broadway babies, because when a Broadway baby says goodnight, it's early in the morning. Let's try again because after it's been a long day, we still know we're part of the brotherhood of man . . . and the even better sisterhood of women.

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

Monday, October 5, 2015


Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

Today I participate in a blog hop hosted by Michael D'Agostino of A Life Examined. Please visit Michael's blog to sign up. Now let's go to the hop!

Michael's question for October is the following: Who would play you in a movie of your life?

I think I've answered this question a couple of other times when I've received blog awards, thank you, yes, thank you very much, I feel honored by your adoration.

I remember one time I chose Christina Hendricks who played Joan on Mad Men:

The problem is that Christina expands as I shrink.

Another time, or two, or three, I chose Lauren Graham:

The problem is that Lauren Graham played Lorelai Gilmore, and in real life I am Lorelai Gilmore. I shouldn't have the actress who played me in a series also play me in a movie. Someone else deserves a chance to be me.

I talked it over with Willy Dunne Wooters, and we came up with the perfect choice: Elisabeth Moss, who played Peggy on Mad Men. I also thought she was great in my funniest of all time movie, Get Him To The Greek. And she's done other things, but I think it's the way she played Peggy that made her exactly right to play me.

Peggy started out as a vulnerable, naive girl, who ended up as a worldly woman. Look at the way she struts into her new office with all her stuff, cigarette hanging out of her mouth. Look out world, it's Peggy/Elisabeth! 

I, too, was vulnerable and naive and ended up--well, I don't know what. 

I don't smoke, that's for sure. But I've bossed some bosses around. Then I lost my Self, and I had to find me again. I've been working on that, and I have to admit it's getting better. It couldn't get much worse.

The great thing is that when Elisabeth is done playing me, we can skate away and go on to new and better things!

Thanks for the great question, Michael of A Life Examined.

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

P.S. I remembered something. When the final season of Mad Men rolled around, all sorts of TV critics and pundits wrote, It turns out that the show was about Peggy all along

I knew it was about Peggy from the very first episode. So there, pundits! Bite my little pink butt!

Friday, October 2, 2015


Hi! Hi, Every Buddy! Hi Hi Hi Hi Hi hihihihiihhihiihihihihihhiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii! I'm so excited I can't stop hi-ing.

It's me, it's me, it's me, Franklin the Bordernese, whose mom always needs to peepee.

Mom went to a far away place not too long ago. It's called Georgia. She was gone for about a year. She claims it was only part of a day.

Mom went to a place called Claxton. I Googled it after she left. I figured she went to get a world famous Georgia fruitcake.

Anyway, you won't believe what she brought home with her. It's sooooo much better than a fruitcake.

You know I been missing my buddy Harper since he went to heaven. Harper can't ever be replaced, but we can have new family members.


Mom saw this picture

online at a place for rescued dogs. Mom didn't tell me what might happen in case it didn't work out. She didn't want me to be disappointed.

She thought this doggy looked perfect to be my sister. She named my sister Penla-la-peee. Oh. Mom says her name is spelled like this: Penelope. She already knows that's her name.

I remember when I came here to live. I found out I was moving into a castle with a Queen. A big man with pictures painted all over his skin carried me to the backyard. I thought he was the servant, and he kinda is, but he's really my human brother.

When Penelope got here, she was scared. She didn't wanna get out of the car. She finally got out and ran into the backyard. She was safe because we have a good fence. But she wouldn't come inside. She wouldn't let Mom get close to her. She didn't know she was moving into a castle and that our mom is the Queen.

Mom had to call my human brother for help. It was raining hard, and it was getting dark. Painted Brother was patient with Penelope. He followed her around the yard and talked to her and showed her a dog biscuit.

Penelope went under Mom's car in the garage. At least she was out of the rain, but she couldn't stay there all night. My big brother is the bravest, strongest big brother in the whole world. He's better than a fruitcake from Georgia, too. He got down on the floor of the garage and slid under the car. He helped Penelope get out from under the car. Then he carried her into the house.

He and Mom dried her with towels and made her warm and cozy. Brother cuddled her for a long time.

That's when I met her. I did everything I could to help, and I'm still helping her learn how to live in the castle. Mom says one really good thing about Penelope is that when she needs to go potty she always goes outside. She never goes in the house. I typed this part small because it's about personal stuff.

Penelope learns every single day. I showed her how to sit just perfict like the dog of a Queen should.

See! See! See!
This is my perfict royal dog sit.
I will teach this to Penelope.

I've written a lot now, so I will try to tell you more about Penelope next week.

Mom hasn't gotten many good pitchers of Penelope yet because she wiggles a lot. She doesn't know the perfict royal dog sit, but I just know she can learn it. I'll try to find at least one good pitcher of Penelope at our castle.

Here's my sister.
That big furry thing is my tail and one white paw.
Penelope isn't as furry as I am. She's soft and sleek.
She likes to kiss me.
She kisses Mom, too.
Sometimes we both kiss Mom at the same time.
It makes Mom happy.
Here's my sister.
I'm on the couch,
where royal dogs belong when we want to rest.
Penelope will learn about relaxing on the couch.
I'm tired now. I been working so hard to take care of Penelope.

Okay I love you bye-bye.

Franklin the Bordernese

Mom wants to ask you something. Here she is:

Without Googling it, do you know the name Penelope from Homeric poetry? Which character is she?

Thursday, October 1, 2015


Gentle Readers . . . and Maxwell,

It's time for the October 1, 2015, Battle of the Bands.

Mr. Stephen T. McCarthy provides us with this information about the bloghop:

The whole thing is really quite simple: You select two different versions of the same song (versions  you feel might give each other some competition in the voting) and you post them on the 1st and the 15th of each month. On the 7th and 21st of each month, you add your own personal vote to the mix, total up all the votes and announce the winner on your blog.

Beyond that, just try to have fun with it and let your readers/voters have fun with it.

All righty, then. Let's have fun!

My song is one I love, but I won't use the version by the woman who wrote and first sang it. She would blow everyone else away.

Her name is Dolly Parton, and the song is Jolene. It was released in October, 1973. Wikipedia states that Parton reports Jolene has been covered more times than any other song she's written. Jolene  is ranked #217 on Rolling Stones' Five Hundred Greatest songs of all time.

Our first contender in the battle is Miley Cyrus, who is Parton's godchild. I don't know a lot about Cyrus other than her father had an achy breaky heart, and she seems to have trouble dressing herself completely. However, in this version, I'm impressed by the strength of her voice.

Cyrus seems to me somewhat similar to her Aunt Dolly, except poor Miley can't afford clothes that's aren't ripped to shreds and full of holes.

And now for something completely different: Our second contender is The White Stripes, of whom I'm quite fond. Jack White possesses a prodigious talent, and I don't care if some people think he looks as if he's dead. According to Wikipedia, The White Stripes' version of Jolene was voted one of the greatest live covers by readers of Rolling Stone magazine. It's much more raw than Cyrus's interpretation, and considered a bit Goth. 

Please vote in the comments section for Miley Cyrus or The White Stripes.

I'll return on October 7th to reveal the winner. I realize we're supposed to choose two versions of a song that will be in close competition with one another. I seem to have a hard time doing that. I like to use a fairly conventional version of a song and pit it against a more unusual rendition. I'm curious about how you choose to vote. Why do you choose a particular song?

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

Franklin wants to make an announcement tomorrow, but it might have to wait. The dishwasher is broken again, and I find myself struggling to meet my obligations. Please don't blame Franklin if he doesn't publish a post tomorrow. I tend to Bogart the laptop.

Tuesday, September 29, 2015


Hi! My name is Janie Junebug, and I'm a liar.

Yesterday we talked about some people who tell lies so amazing that it's  . . . amazing. Some of us confessed to lying. Now I want to convene this meeting of Liars Anonymous by saying, Hi! My name is Janie Junebug, and I'm a liar.

I lie a lot, and most of it is on this blog. It's part of my shtick. Especially hyperbole.

Not long ago, one of the young servers at the neighborhood diner (yes, it opened back up with a different name, in case I forgot to tell you) told me that she said to the other servers, I want to be Janie when I grow up because everything with Janie is larger than life.

I think that's cool. Everything is fantastic and fabulous and terrible and terrific in Janieland. Inventing a world? Much more fun than reality. In Janieland, Willy Dunne Wooters looks exactly like Ryan Gosling. In Janieland, we have fun, fun, fun, and Daddy never takes the T-bird away.

Oh, yeah.
Definitely the Wooters man.

Something troubles me a bit. I might write on my blog "this is a lie or a joke," and a number of people seem to think I'm telling the truth. The reality is that you shouldn't believe a word I say. This fantasy land belongs to me, and it makes me happy.

Okay. That was a lie. I tell the truth sometimes. I've been pretty open about my problems with depression and anxiety and how much better I feel now. All true. 

But most of my life I lived a lie. I pretended to love someone I hated because I didn't know how to live otherwise. As the years passed, this person accused me of lying frequently--not huge lies like, Bitch, how could you say you were in New York on 9/11? but stuff like, You said you took everything out of the safety deposit box, but you didn't. I'd try to explain that what I had actually said was that I had taken everything I needed immediately out of the safety deposit box, but nothing was acceptable. I reached the point that if I accidentally said the wrong word I would cry because I knew I was in so much trouble, and the reaction would be terrible.

The person who thought my jokes were funny suddenly pretended to believe I thought my exaggerations were reality so I could be caught in more lies. Lies that were nothing but jokes. The lies made the person furious with me, but later I would hear the person repeat my jokes in a gathering because it was clear all along that they were jokes. 

The reality is that the person who accused me of all this lying is a pathological liar, whose lies became so much a part of life that at times the person didn't know the difference between the truth and a lie--or at least I think the person didn't know. I couldn't crawl inside the person's brain to find out, and I don't want to visit that brain anyway.

This person told me not long ago that I am evil, and I see evil in other people because it's what I am.

It shouldn't hurt, but it does. 

The pathological liar in my life received support from someone else who told such ludicrous lies about me that I would have laughed if I hadn't been traumatized. 

And no one seems to understand that being called a liar is painful to me. Yes, I will lie to you. I will lie because I don't want to hurt your feelings. I won't tell you your idea is stupid because you won't follow through on it anyway, and if you do, then you'll figure out it's stupid. Or maybe I'm wrong, and your idea is brilliant. I will decline the invitation to your party and say I don't feel well when the reality is that I can't face being in a group of people, but it's too hard to explain so I tell this small lie. 

These small lies are kindnesses. 

Aren't they?

Willy Dunne Wooters and I have a good system. We live now. We know the basics of each other's painful pasts. We don't dwell on them. Instead, we talk about politics and we watch a movie and we talk about how much we like stuff and we joke and we laugh and we laugh and we laugh. Then we make love.

The one person with whom I have been the most honest no longer speaks to me. I gushed honesty with this person because for some reason I felt I needed to tell the truth. I don't know why. I guess I sensed the person would find out eventually. Better to find out from me. Maybe I hoped this person wouldn't repeat the mistakes I made. The most important relationship in my life vanished, 

Oh, there I go again with the hyperbole, but it's not for the sake of comedy. It's because I am so miserable and haunted that I don't know what to do. I won't die. Not now. Probably not for a long time. I just want this person to love me again.

Please, please, please tell me I am not evil because the person who told me I am had so much authority over me for so many years that even though I know it's not true, I'm still scared. Yes, I'm kind of fishing for compliments, but it's closer to falling, and I need you to help me stay on my feet.

Play us out, please, Dogs.

Infinities of love,

Janie Junebug

I won't be here tomorrow because I need to edit. I plan on returning Thursday, October 1, for The Battle of the Bands. Then on Friday, Franklin wants to make an important announcement.