Heather Locklear has had a run in with former friend current enemy Denise Richards. back in the good old days Heather had taken Richards under her wing. Locklear got Richards her spot on Melrose Place. They also commiserated about their personal problems. That's when things went sour.
loose lips
Heather was having trouble with her husband Richie Sambora. Now Denise isn't the person you want to confide that too because she doesn't always know where the line is drawn; especially with men. Sensing blood in the water, Denise swung into action. She started up a torrid affair with her best friend's husband, and tried to steal him away. When Richie showed some reluctance to leave his wife - why choose when you can have your cake and eat it too? - Denise forced the issue by leaving steamy emails on Sambora's computer. They were emails Locklear was sure to find, and find them she did.
Driven to drink, and over the edge
That lead to an ugly public spectacle in which Sambora left Locklear and started shacking up with Richards. Naturally Locklear collapsed in to an alcohol fueled downward spiral. Before it was through Locklear had publicly flipped out, parking her car in the middle of a California freeway until Emergency Response could extract her. Once the press caught on that Locklear was an alcoholic they started digging and the whole sad story of her years of secret boozing emerged. Though the public gave Richards credit for being smarter than they ever suspected, they were none too pleased with her treachery. Only the death of her mother from cancer saved her from a full out public backlash. Naturally the friendship was shot. Running into each other must've been awkward too. Since they lived in the same upscale LA neighbourhood, run ins would be hard to avoid. Well the long anticipated run in has finally happened.Seeing red - more than the frozen yogurt was cold
Denise was recently out and about to get herself some frozen yogurt. these little outings must help her get her mind off of her failed career and ruined public image. If that was the plan this time it failed spectacularly. As Denise was placing her order who should walk in but Heather Locklear. The two locked eyes for a moment as an strained silence fell over the store - you know the kind of silence; like the calm before a storm. Then Heather wheeled around and walked out.We've got to stop meeting like this
Not one to ever leave well enough alone - it's what got her where she is today, Denise ran out of the store to catch up with Locklear, and tried to strike up a conversation. Heather was still in an unreceptive mood. She stared coldly at Richards an hissed "You and I have nothing to talk about ever!" Now that can't be true. I'm sure they have plenty to talk about, like the way Richards busted up Locklear's marriage and drove the poor woman to drink. I think what Heather really meant is that if they started dredging up painful memories it might lead to a battle of the blondes murder! Surely Denise didn't really expect Locklear to let by gones be bygones, not after the damage she'd done. If friendship was so important to Denise then maybe she should've kept her software off of Sambora's hard drive? You gotta give Richards credit for one thing though; the girl's got some nerve!
Not even Scott Baio does television by choice
In keeping with our Spaced Out Sundays, here's a little video on Freemason style cryptomythology. There are many inaccuracies, but it's still entertaining.
Oh yeah, and there's also somethings you gotta know about the Illuminati, 'cause they've got plans for your life that don't include you!
If you don't think that North America is caballed up, then just take a look at this!
Just get aload of the mystical talking head Baphomet that these so called Illuminati worship!
Every main lodge has one. Believe it or not within the thick gold armor plating is an actual human skull! It usually comes from a condemned man (they're getting harder to find, hence Illuminati are ardent supporters of capital punishment) or a murder victim. The masons don't actually murder the person themselves to get the skull (though that has been alleged by some), but merely get the skull through a morgue or funeral home.
Bogus Zen:
Dover Beach
The sea is calm to-night.
The tide is full, the moon lies fair
Upon the straits;--on the French coast the light
Gleams and is gone; the cliffs of England stand,
Glimmering and vast, out in the tranquil bay.
Come to the window, sweet is the night-air!
Only, from the long line of spray
Where the sea meets the moon-blanch'd land,
Listen! you hear the grating roar
Of pebbles which the waves draw back, and fling,
At their return, up the high strand,
Begin, and cease, and then again begin,
With tremulous cadence slow, and bring
The eternal note of sadness in.
Sophocles long ago
Heard it on the {AE}gean, and it brought
Into his mind the turbid ebb and flow
Of human misery; we
Find also in the sound a thought,
Hearing it by this distant northern sea.
The Sea of Faith
Was once, too, at the full, and round earth's shore
Lay like the folds of a bright girdle furl'd.
But now I only hear
Its melancholy, long, withdrawing roar,
Retreating, to the breath
Of the night-wind, down the vast edges drear
And naked shingles of the world.
Ah, love, let us be true
To one another! for the world, which seems
To lie before us like a land of dreams,
So various, so beautiful, so new,
Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light,
Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain;
And we are here as on a darkling plain
Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight,
Where ignorant armies clash by night.
Matthew Arnold
The sea is calm to-night.
The tide is full, the moon lies fair
Upon the straits;--on the French coast the light
Gleams and is gone; the cliffs of England stand,
Glimmering and vast, out in the tranquil bay.
Come to the window, sweet is the night-air!
Only, from the long line of spray
Where the sea meets the moon-blanch'd land,
Listen! you hear the grating roar
Of pebbles which the waves draw back, and fling,
At their return, up the high strand,
Begin, and cease, and then again begin,
With tremulous cadence slow, and bring
The eternal note of sadness in.
Sophocles long ago
Heard it on the {AE}gean, and it brought
Into his mind the turbid ebb and flow
Of human misery; we
Find also in the sound a thought,
Hearing it by this distant northern sea.
The Sea of Faith
Was once, too, at the full, and round earth's shore
Lay like the folds of a bright girdle furl'd.
But now I only hear
Its melancholy, long, withdrawing roar,
Retreating, to the breath
Of the night-wind, down the vast edges drear
And naked shingles of the world.
Ah, love, let us be true
To one another! for the world, which seems
To lie before us like a land of dreams,
So various, so beautiful, so new,
Hath really neither joy, nor love, nor light,
Nor certitude, nor peace, nor help for pain;
And we are here as on a darkling plain
Swept with confused alarms of struggle and flight,
Where ignorant armies clash by night.
Matthew Arnold
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