Tom Waits for no man


While cleaning out our car to try and find the receipt for a wedding gift (clock) we  needed to return so we could pay our dentist bill, Juicy Planet discovered instead a  ticket stub from a 2002 Tom Petty concert (Grand Rapids), a reddish piece of soft glass that did not want to be found, a good half pound of pretzel salt (once swept), and a photograph of Tom Waits, minding his own business on Rush Street in Chicago on some cloudy afternoon when he couldn’t pretend he wasn’t him and we couldn’t pretend we didn’t care that he was the kind of guy who can charm and stun a heart in a hundred kinda ways before breakfast. We went where he just was and ordered a mocha. Juicy Planet is keeping the clock.


The Moses frequency

heston Juicy Planet has been receiving slippery but persistent messages from UHF channel 52 on our black & white Panasonic TV, of various clips of Charlton Heston near naked on the beach from the film, The Planet of the Apes. But as it turns out, this scene cannot be found in the actual Hollywood movie! It seemed at first to be Heston in between takes while filming the movie in 1968, but it has now been confirmed that what we are watching is an actual live feed of Heston, enjoying the pretty beach with his empty machine gun.

The original story of human hubris was written by French author Pierre Boulle, in 1963. The Statue of Liberty, which can be seen toppled and eroding in the background in some future, was a gift to the United States from the people of France. In the hope of minimizing the kind of dang regret depicted, Juicy Planet is actively trying to decipher the meaning of these recurring beachfront broadcasts, before the U.S. government strips the juicy public atmosphere of free analog television transmissions and sells the airwaves to corporate bidders on February 17, 2009.planetapes5

Ever the liberator on Earth, whether as Moses, Ben Hur, or Chairman of the National Rifle Association, Heston appears in the transmissions to be the one in need of saving, not from slavery and human greed but from loneliness. We shall watch and wait with our hands raised to see if perhaps the kiss of Zira or some other lovely sane and peaceful creature will make any difference for our protagonist.

Shoot to Disarm, Never to Harm: Masked Man rides on

Juicy Planet was trolling around the alleys of Edgewater on a balmy summer night when we saw what appeared to be a black mask, rolling like tumbleweed in front of us, the yellow glow from the arches of McDonald’s helping it to be true. Sadly, upon closer inspection, it turned out to be a chunk of fabric, with foam stuff underneath, from the armrest of a Subaru. The image of the black mask remained, and we couldn’t think of anything else but the Lone Ranger, his face, is horse, his cornflower blue outfit, and Tonto too. Turns out, we were standing in the middle of Saint Gertrudes parking lot at this point, where Clayton Moore, who grew up to be the Lone Ranger on television, used to hang out and go ice skating. The nuns used to flood the ground with water in the winter so Clayton and his pals could skate…those nuns would’ve gotten a TV show today!

6254 N. Glenwood 60660

We were told by a neighbor, who asked not to be identified, that Clayton Moore was born and raised at 6254 N. Glenwood. Clayton once met Hollywood’s original Tarzan, Johnny Weissmuller, at a Chicago swimming pool, while Johnny was training for the 1928 Olympics, where he was a gold medal swimmer. Clayton had been an athlete and flying trapeze artist, performing in the 1933 World’s Fair in Chicago, before heading to New York and Hollywood, starring in dozens of B movies before having the pleasure, in 1949, of becoming famous for hiding his identity behind a black mask, helping people out and taking off, with flair. Touched by the knowledge of his early bravery in pursuit of fame as well as his general loveliness, we ordered a hot fudge sundae with extra nuts and ate it on Clayton’s front steps.

CLICK for real life story of Tarzan CLICK for Lone Ranger Facts!

$1 dollar


Exclusive! Craigslist Free item of the week: blow dryer

 Works fine. Attachment stuck.

Forgotten, except for this post: Rhode Island

Mentioned only 3 times on United States television in all of 2007, with all major broadcast and cable news networks combined, this inchworm of a state prefers to remain below the radar of political and social messiness.

Just 37 miles wide (Seattle to Tacoma) and 47 miles long (Downtown Manhattan to Asbury Park, NJ), Rhode Island causes little trouble and doesn’t ask for much. The first of the 13 colonies to claim it’s independence from British rule and the last state to ratify the Constitution, Rhody is proud to say that minding it’s own business is it’s finest export, but only off the record.

Known to an unnamed few as the Denmark of North America, Rhode Island (from the Dutch Red Island) has a gifted temperament akin to Canada’s. A postage stamp stuck on the wrong end of the envelope, this spiritual leader of all 50 states can only remain so by maintaining it’s anonymity. Little Rhody, your salty shoulders shall still be exalted…neatly and quietly.

CLICK HERE for RI history of slavery, abolition, and Brown University

CLICK HERE for RI U.S. Presidential Primary Results!

Exclusive: Stevie Nicks quote of the week

fire on fire rain on my face

fever grows higher what can you do

wild in the darkest places of your mind

that’s where I needed you where I needed you the most

(name the song & a line from another song from same album and win a chance to sing on Juicy Planet)

Chocolate sight for a mountain seal

In the dream there was a large ocean creature hoping to be acknowledged as the first true centipede rising up from a deep clear green pool of water that was shaped into a curve, more like a circus peanut than a smile, and we came upon it as we climbed the side of a Swiss chocolate mountain crag. It had been raining for days, and the wet chocolate mountainside was so dark and bittersweet that it made everything else seem light and lemony surrounding it. So too this green pool of cool water, whose smell rose up to our noses as a lemon-lime soda, clearing our sinuses and changing our thoughts of failure into the feeling one gets at the top of a roller coaster, 360 degrees of a moment of no up and no down.

We could hear the seal before we could locate her, our vision blurry from the thin vanilla oxygen. We heard her thick clay grey nose breaking the surface of the water softly, firmly. She was there in a smaller pool of milky water that was connected by a shallow channel to the pool with the ocean centipede in it. She steered mightily in the opposite direction but the pull of the channel was very strong. We were too far away to be of any help, so we stood there licking the backs of our hands in delicious prayer for her, humming and licking until the seal was safely somersaulting on the other side of a pile of timberweed. Since the way we had come had already started to slough itself off behind us, our only hope for getting back home was walking closely past the dark ocean centipede creature, treading water there by the side of the pool like it had nothing but time.