If you ever want to bring the house down on karaoke night, all you need is a rocking tune, an energetic performance and a hairy dude in a poodle skirt. Trust me, it works. It was Halloween night in 2004 and a bunch of us ducked out of a party and headed to a bar on the corner to grab a few beers and show off our costumes. I can't recall what all of us wearing, but I'm sure that our friend Camo made a dashing woman, complete with a pink poodle skirt, blonde wig and a low cut shirt that revealed chest hair whose equal could only be found on Burt Reynolds. So there we were, all dressed up and drinking beers in the back of a dive bar. The seven of us were the only ones in the place wearing costumes, which meant there we were plenty of sideways looks as we walked into the place. Now karaoke is rarely a good idea, but for some reason after a few pitchers of Livonia Lite, those bad ideas start seeming like genius. So of course, impaired judgment somehow managed to get us to put our names in, settle our tabs and head ...

  Years ago (and seeming another life) ago, I lived in Oklahoma. Fresh out of college, it was the best job I could find.   So I'm down there one night covering a town council meeting in the heart of the Little Dixie section of Oklahoma, a village whose sole claim to fame is that it was the site of the last surrender by Confederate forces at the end of the Civil War. Of course, they prefer to phrase it as the site of "the last Confederate holdouts in the war of Northern agression," but I digress.   So I'm there, covering this meeting, during which the dirt-covered, overall-wearing head of the public works department lobbied to buy a new oil pump for the "village truck," and the clerk had to stop several times while reviewing the previous months' minutes because she couldn't read her own handwriting out of the official village spiral notebook. So really, for small town Oklahoma, nothing out of the ordinary happened. Of course, I hadn't yet talked to the mayor, and I had no idea that I was in for down home, ignorant, but at the same time warm welcome to the area.   So after standing there chatting with the guy ...

have a nice day pictures   I've got some rednecks in my family and those rednecks have even bigger rednecks for friends.   Several years ago, Little Brother, Cousin Andy and their friend the Hippie went to visit Cousin Andy's family on Walton's Mountain. Many members of my family were there, including my parents and other assorted aunts and cousins for the annual fall festival. It was a whole big thing and Little Brother, Cousin Andy and the Hippie decided to go along and raise some Hell.   They spent the better part of the weekend hanging with Cousin Andy's brother, Cousin Skippy and their friend McV doing redneck things like taking a smashed up Ford Bronco with the top cut off (they had rolled it months before, so why the hell not?) two-tracking over the mountain. They drank a lot of beer and all came back to the D saying "Git 'er done." It was a very dark time in my family.   Anyway, after a particularly long night of drinking and carousing, the five got up early, drank some beers and went looking for trouble. Their great idea — well mostly McV and Cousin Skippy's idea — was to get some guns and head out into ...

I spent Christmas 1998 with a huge welt on my forehead. One of my roommates that year got mad at me and threw a Nintendo game — Ikari Warriors to be exact — at me. Scary Gary was pretty well known on campus. He was easily recognizable, wearing a black hunting vest (the kind with all the pockets for ammo and knives and whatnot) over his worn out leather coat, he would run everywhere he went. One time I saw him trip, fall and roll all the way down a hill. It was horrifying, sad and hilarious. Kind of like watching a clown car lose control after slipping on a banana peel and crash into a pie stand. Gary was a year older than me and the year I lived with him was his second year in that room. He was very attached to that room, so much so that he lived there for at least three more years afterward. It didn't take long for us to realize that Gary was, well, unique. Of course, there was move-in day, when he screamed at me for stealing his bed. You see, I moved in first and took the bed furthest away from the door and bathroom. ...

Your Personality Is Guardian (SJ) You are sensible, down to earth, and goal oriented. Bottom line, you are good at playing by the rules. You tend to be dominant - and you are a natural leader. You are interested in rules and order. Morals are important to you. A hard worker, you give your all at whatever you do. You're very serious, and people often tell you to lighten up. In love, you tend to take things carefully and slowly. At work, you are suited to almost any career - but you excel in leadership positions. With others, you tend to be polite and formal. As far as looks go, you are traditionally attractive. You take good care of yourself. On weekends, you tend to like to do organized activities. In fact, you often organize them! The Three Question Personality Test

1. Go here. 2. Pass it on.

2'ish Sunday, Sept. 4 Come join in the Labor Day fun. We'll be getting together around 2 p.m. to start the drinking, we're hoping to have a softball game going soon thereafter. The real drinking and barbecuing and such begins about 5'ish. There will be plenty of beer, food and froo-froo drinks for the ladies...and Corey. Directions: 1. Take Merriman south to Cherry Hill 2. Turn right on Cherry Hill (West) 3. Take Cherry Hill west past Venoy, to S. Schuman. You'll see a large brick building that houses a piss doctor (urologist) on the left side. S. Schuman is the street immediately after that. 4. Turn left on S. Schuman. 5. Follow S. Schuman to the fourth stop sign. You'll see a school on the left side, keep going. 6. The Westland WSJP ranch is on the left side at the fourth stop sign (northeast corner). Just in case, the address is 1495 S. Schuman. Give me a call if you get lost.