Good evening everyone. Today we are with George Tirebiter, affectionately known as GT, in her bathroom. GT you've been associated with bathroom humor, do you think you've gotten a bum rap?
Actually, I think it's just that this is one of the few topics one can discuss at face value, so I've felt free to JUMP IN (not necessarily START) discussions along these lines. Granted, I will readily admit I have no problem with bodily functions, but unless I'm trying to set off someone who's REALLY hooked on such things *coughCherberriecough*, I don't think I go out of my way to instigate. Really, it's just as easy to set me off with a discussion of 70s bands, National Lampoon Radio Hour, MST3K, tofu recipes, my love for Harpo and Groucho, power trios and progressive rock, why Lucy was NEVER funny, the fact that I have a genetic defect that makes me root for the Cubs no matter what, or the fact that you could live in a MonsterWalMart without ever seeing the light of day again. Maybe you just happened to stumble in here when the Great Toilet Paper Debate was in full bloom, and caught me at my worst. 
Yes, well I see your toiler paper IS going OVER -- the correct way, but we won't get into THAT debate again! I've heard that you've been here since day 1. How did you find SB and why did you stay?
I read something in the paper about SS, and upon checking them out, they were already too evil to accept new registrants; I followed references there to SB and signed up--and didn't realize until this summer that I actually joined the first night. I felt like I lurked for a while--hesitant to make an ass of myself--but it probably only took a week before I had totally screwed up my anonymity--the fact that I was female, lived in FL, etc. . . I had thought that it might be safer to hide behind a misleading ID, but found it too disorienting to be referred to as a "he."
Basically, I was so mortified at the misleading premise of the show (I KNOW surviving, and that wasn't it!) that I needed somewhere to go to vent about it. . . and finding similarly frustrated people here helped me feel like I had some small amount of control over it--but it was like when you fill out those consumer satisfaction surveys to say how much you hated that can of green beans with a worm in it, and they're so obtuse about digesting what you said that they send you coupons for MORE of their crap. "Thank you for the worm in the matchbox coffin--to show our appreciation for taking the time to write to us, here are a dozen coupons for MORE OF OUR INFERIOR VEGETABLES!"--yes, it feels good to vent, but it doesn't really change anything. And of course, Survivor doesn't cost me 53¢ a can, and Mark Burn-it seems to thrive on our hate. . . or despite it.
How did you come up with your screen name?
In choosing my name, I tried to think of favorite Firesign Theatre monikers, because I am largely trapped in that era (a treasure-trove of funny-namers, but almost entirely MALE!) In retrospect, I should've chosen Buzzy Crumbhunger (forever changed by aliens, after a trip to the Southwest,) but George Leroy Tirebiter is one of my all-time favorite FST characters. Ahh, who could ever forget those old Peorgie and Mudhead movies?
Actually, for those who never heard FST, a lot of what I say might make little sense. . . (Should I promote Limewire or Mactella here, so you can all DL some Firesign for yourselves?) I rely on the 70s college/"head" crowd to be able to catch on to the little tidbits I toss in--and actually, SB has a good proportion of people in the right age group who DO get it. Those who DON'T get it, I figure I don't have to feel guilt for corrupting them if it goes over their heads. Part of what has made this site so appealing is that it attracted a higher percentage of ADULTS in its heyday than other MB sites, and the typical 13 year-old doesn't last long here.
You recently had a birthday, so that makes you a Libra. And since Astrology has been a hot topic lately, I looked up what Libras are suppose to be like. Did you know that Libras are suppose to be gifted with tact and delicacy? <snicker> Do you think you're a typical Libra?
Libra, yes--but typical? Probably not. Oh, yes--I have the waffling down pat, especially when it comes to deciding where to go for dinner or what movie to rent. . . but I will admit to having strong opinions, a major thing for what's RIGHT and fighting for the underdog. I tend to keep my mouth shut until I get pissed off enough to cut loose with a RANT to set people straight (hence the Clown's inspired gift of the soapbox. . .) No, wait--that IS all Libra stuff. . . I also have the damned Martha Stewart thing happening (LOL--perhaps that's why your first sig pic struck me like biting tinfoil. . . I HATE that woman!)--I am ALL about doing it myself, from cooking to needlework to remodeling to delivering my own baby (yes, on the sofa bed--with no pain, except for that damned bar across my lower back.) I also tried being a Business/Accounting major (appealled to the "anal" in me) but wound up hopelessly mired in the Fine Arts realm. . . totally useless, without bothering to add Education to it. I guess I figured--incorrectly--that I could somehow manage to just float around college forever. And true to my waffling self, I can't say I prefer any one media over another--I am the "Jack of all trades, master of none," and do ceramics, painting (like oils and watercolors best), jewelry, calligraphy, weaving, sculpture, drawing, photography, and in the last few years, digital media. And I do "nothing" really well, too--something I learned only recently that I can blame on the Libra thing, as well.
You know GT, YOU were the one that said I sounded like Martha Stewart prompting me to post that picture of her. <snicker> You have a Scotty dog as your sig pic and you were quite fascinated with GG's kilt. What's up with this Celtic fascination you have?
The Scotty is partly because the original George Tirebiter was actually a dog (a school mascot), partly because my family came from Scotland, and lastly, because I have a Westie (the white version of the Scotty)--seemed to cover all the bases. I do love all things Celtic--artwork, music, and men! I probably have the best collection of bagpipe music of anyone you know (unless you're a piper, yourself).
I think it's safe to say that you are the ONLY person I know that has a collection of bagpipe music.
I also maintain a love of the music I grew up with and a few progressive bands I've discovered in later years. And who could NOT love a man in a kilt?! As for GG, he used his kilt to his advantage--but it was his flirting from the neck up that really engaged me. . .
You raise/breed parrots. How did you get interested in this? And how is the little one that was born this past summer?
Let's go to the Florida room--where I keep the birds--but they will undoubtedly try to co-opt the conversation, so we won't be able to hear ourselves before long. . . especially since it makes my dog crazy with jealousy. . .
<MakeItStop follows GT to the Florida room -- a room with windows on three sides.>
I've always had too many pets, but the bird thing really got me about 15 (?) years ago, when I got my first Amazon. And like so many ignorant pet owners, I soon decided that my poor little man needed a woman to make his life complete. . . Of course, when I finally located a female, our love affair was over--he immediately bonded with her and no longer wanted to spend evenings snuggling with me in front of the teevee. . . These are supposed to be extremely difficult to breed at all, so I guess I've been lucky to get one baby a year from them (they typically lay up to 4 eggs in a clutch, but some get damaged, some are mistreated, and some are infertile--and some years, things conspire to keep them from being interested in the nest box at all.) My first baby was actually the third egg--the first two chicks were eaten in a panic when they hatched, so I kept him in an incubator in the bedroom and helped him out of the shell when he couldn't do it on his own. He is my sweetest and/or most irritating (depending on the season)--he's picked up many phrases and can be quite the kook. I've so far sold three of his sisters, and given the difficulty in finding the perfect home for them, I guess it's fortunate that they aren't more prolific. This is definitely NOT a business, just a hobby run amok. And with the addition of a Westie pup almost two years ago, it is "never a dull moment" in our household. . . She is definitely the boss, but my bird Haggis delights in teasing her.
<Haggis starts misbehaving by teasing the dog -- "Heeeeere, kittykittykitty--meeeeeeoowwww--whatcha doin'?" then telling her to "Stop it! Bad bird! You stop that! HAHAHAHAHAHA. . . ahhhhh." To deflect attention from the birds, the dog goes to ring her bell, indicating she needs to go outside to potty. . .>
GT, you have a zest for creating images and you're quite good at it. How did you develop these skills?
Since my son hit the gifted program in first grade, I've had the Mac propaganda to contend with. By the 4th grade, he was the one ALL the teachers went to for computer help, and by 6th grade, he was creating the county's middle school Art Web. With such a guru in-house, there was no way to avoid learning how to do stuff for myself--and good thing, too, because he took off for college last fall (he'll be getting his degree in Digital Media in two months, and is already fending off incredible business offers--yes, I'm obnoxiously proud!) I've done quite a bit of graphics work for a local silkscreener, but only recently started using my computer to generate that work--definitely easier than the old light table and X-Acto blade! Probably should branch out into other things, but with a kid like this to measure up to, I don't know how long it'll take to have the confidence in my own abilities to insist that people pay me money to do stuff. . . At this rate, even my 12 year-old daughter will be getting paid for her websites before I have the patience to teach myself the code. . . (and yes, she seems to be equally gifted, though her interests are not exactly the same as her brother's--she loves to draw with great detail, and thinks she'd like to go into game design, if she can wrap herself around the math and physics.)
Let's wander out to the lanai and enjoy our drinks in the hammock--there's some night-blooming jasmine out here, and if we keep the hilarity down, we've got owls who like to land on the roof and talk to each other. I also have a large aquarium out here--not many fish right now, as my crayfish has eaten most of the little ones. . . but the bubbles are entertaining.
You claim to be a stoner. What I wonder is, do you get the munchies?
LMAO--the stoner bit really IS me at heart, but when I had kids, I felt the need to drop that until they're out of the nest. . . To be acceptably PC (gawd, how I HATE that idea. . .) I really shouldn't espouse drug use here (Aya will have to give me the smackdown!)--but rest assured, I can toke with the best of them (despite a SERIOUS allergy to tobacco!)--and I really preferred more serious hallucinogens (how many people buy acid by the gross anymore?). . . Conversely, I am unable to take over-the-counter medications, as they turn me into a hopeless mass of electricity; strictly the herbal home remedies for this girl. As for munchies--I seem to recall being a victim of those on many an occasion. . . Nothing quite as sad as someone driven to eat mass quantities of dry cereal or chocolate chip cookie dough because it's the fastest food in the kitchen. . . and munchies or not, the fastest way to satisfy me is with a pile of refrieds and jalepeños. I am all about BEANS!
Beans, huh? You DO know that beans are the musical fruit? <giggle> What do you do?
Hmm. . . what do I DO? I've done free-lance graphics work for years (if you go to Highland Games, you've probably seen my handiwork at a couple vendors,) as well as the stay-at-home mommy thing. With the DIY mentality, it was easy to justify relying on one income--and I hated the idea of having someone else's sensibilities drummed into my kids' heads as they grew up. I've already admitted elsewhere on the boards that I've lived the Little House on the Prairie lifestyle--cooking and heating with a 2-burner wood stove, feeding us from a 3600 sq. ft. garden--and there's probably nothing that feels as self-sufficient as getting up to wash the sheets after giving birth on them. . . At this point, I do wonder if I'll ever figure out what to be when I grow up--I'm hoping my son will take pity and hire me in some capacity so I don't have to think too hard about which direction to go. . .
Do you have any hobbies?
Hobbies? That sounds too much like work. . . I have done over a decade as a Boy Scout leader/Commissioner, have been known to read voraciously, love plants, can easily spend hours at the computer or INtendo games (a name given because you intend to do something else. . .), all the domestic crap already mentioned--and worst of all, an almost-daily fix of SB.
Yes, we all need our SB fix!
Speaking of which. . . it's about time we get down to the business of celebrating my birthday (I know it's late--but such are the perks of living in a time warp! I've always had problems with time and space. . .) Thanks to several well-meaning posts around SB, I have been given a generous amount of party supplies, which I am glad to share with my benefactors--I am talking LARGE quantities of the best bud, drink, cake, Crunchie bars, etc., so in the best Hugh Hefner tradition, we will all meet in the lanai for an evening of revelry. Pajamas are de rigeur (it's currently 10:15 pm, and a balmy 78°, so dress accordingly) Feces-flinging will be confined to the back yard (bonus points if anyone hits the pack of dogs next door)--and if we're lucky, we'll be able to get some of the cute guys to regale us with song parodies, some awesome gals will pontificate on all manner of topics--from hilarious Survivor TTLs to political puppetmastery to . . . well, let's make a rule that any Joyce recitations must be accompanied by the Aztec Love Slave dance! If we're lucky, our favorite desert despot may put in an appearance to do his latest stand-up routine (I don't know how, but he can talk about Coleman lanterns and AC/DC like they were MEANT to go together!). I've gotten a hot tub so the Canadians can thaw out, got an ice shaver for the bar (okay--it's a picnic table,) and I PROMISE there will be no dead Hollywood stars hogging the spotlight--I've even engaged an out-of-work bus driver as bouncer, to ensure order, harmony, and a mellow evening. . . I look forward to seeing what happens when several posters are expected to be in the same place at the same time (will there be any shocking revelations? split personalities?) and meeting many of our "newbies-but-goodies" here, as well as some long-time favorites--but for those who can't make it, I believe it'll run as a PPV later next month (proceeds to benefit the Survivor Ho' Crush Intervention Brigade.)
Hey, barkeep! Pour me some o' that Third Red Eye. . .
<MakeItStop faces the audience.>
Well, you can see that it's time to party! Hey, GT, look at these home-made cheese puffs I made. They're a GOOD THING! heehee
