Letters to Santa…

Every year, I type in children’s Letters to Santa for the local newspaper. Yes, our mailbox becomes the LOCAL NORTH POLE each year. Here are some of my fave from this year, along with my comments that I’d love to put in the paper as well, but that would just be mean.

Dear Santa,
I hope you think I’m nice. If you do I want a Nintendo DS, a bakugan pack, a playstation 3, a gun rack, 20 different guns, $100,000 dollars, nerf guns, pokemon cards, spy gear, pokemon, bakinguan and more Nintendo ds games. Chicken fry for dinner and a lot more.
Your friend, Ramsey H.
I see a bank robber in the making here…. one who likes fried chicken. 

Dear Santa,
These are the things I want for Christmas. I want a karoke machine. Also, I want some shoes also clothes also I want a nother pair of skates. I want Jeebzus in me and my whole family also me and my family got to pray. And I want 18 tickets to Hawii and I want another new bike. 
Your friend, Deidra S.
I hate to tell Deidra, but I’ve been praying to Jeebzus for 18 tickets to Hawaii too, and we all see how that’s worked out! 

Dear Santa Claus,
I want a Baby Olive. I also want a ELF ON THE SELF!!! I have been dieing for won of those. I want school supplies like leat pencils, paper, earesers, gripers, germ-x, a pencil sharpener, big eracer, what are in people and animals. Polly pocket boys with axca close. 2 Punck bugs, one blue and one pink what a barbies, two boy barbies.
Love, Jess Staples P.S. PLEASE GET ME everything. I love you.
Ah, a little germaphobe. Who’s a little bossy. 

Dear Santa Claus,
All I want for Christmas is 1 thing. I want a girl baby alive that really pees and poops and eats. That is all I want for Christmas. Your friend, Meagan
Oh little megan. Don’t you know that you ARE the Baby Alive? 

Dear Santa,
I have been good. I want a phone and Santa I want Jesus for Christmas. I want a boyfriend and some skates. Santa this what I want fa real and it is a fake baby that use the bathroom. 
Love your sweet friend Tayla S.
Cute little Tayla. Jesus, a boyfriend and a fake baby that uses the bathroom? I’m not so sure he can pull off a miracle, kid. 

Sexy smellers.

 

Rawr.

 

 

I’m not going to lie: I am lacking senses. I have horrible vision, very particular tastes that are jarred when something is TOO spicy or TOO sour, and my hearing is well, getting worse. But there are three other senses that I have honed – touch, smell and a little bit of the sixth one.

Touch is something a lot of people take for granted. The feel of burlap is one of my favorite – to most, an aggrivation. I not only love the feeling, but I love the SMELL. The texture is incredible – wiry almost, and Itchy. Another of my favorites – terrycloth. Absolute heaven. I also love the feeling of magazine paper – the different qualities. Some are porous, some recycled and textured, and others as smooth as silk. The porous ones are my favorite – but they don’t quite serve the purpose of photography, as you lose a lot of the depth and richness of the print. A lit mag would be great for porous magazine paper – a Vogue or an ELLE, not so much.

But then we move to something that’s becoming more and more my number 1 sense: Smell. I’ve always been a ’smeller’. I can tell what someone had for breakfast at night, and I can smell a smoker from a mile away. I guess that’s what really turned me off to smoking – is it just reeks to me. It hurts my nose and closes up my throat. I have only smoked cigarettes when I’ve had about 5 whiskeys – because my senses are so dulled at that point, nothing sounds better to my opened throat than a raspy, cancer-inducing cigarette to go with my cirrhosis of the liver. 

My favorite smells are growing by the number: whiskey has always been on the list, bakeries, pork tenderloin with brown sugar and corriander, sweet potatoes, clean babies (as opposed to ones that smell like spit up and uh-ohs), my skin after a day at the beach being hit by hard winds, sand and sunblock and let’s not forget my number one: the smell of a well-cologned man.

I don’t quite know what it is about pheromones, or how they work exactly, but let’s take for example how I react in the following situation. I’m in a bookstore, plodding through the stacks not really paying attention to anyone. I walk through, see a ‘pretty boy’ to the left, a relatively average looking guy to the right. I head to the middle of the row, in between the two. And then it hits me. Someone smells DIVINE. (Normally it’s because of POLO or Drakkar) And as I would normally be avoiding eye contact with the hot guy, I start to look his way – but then realize – it’s not him. It’s the rather average-looking guy to my right. Something happens – a switch is turned on – and it is complete animal attraction – for nothing other than his smell. All of a sudden rather average looking has turned into someone you want to maul. And that’s what smell does – it transforms the ordinary into the extraordinary. I think that a remarkable ’scent’ is the single most important accessory you can walk out of the house with – it could be the difference between being discarded and being craved.

Here’s are my top five of FEMALE scents out there – some of the ones I think are KEY to survival in the world of normal smelling people:

1. Dolce & Gabbana – The One

2. Ermenegildo Zegna – Essenza di Zegna (yummy on a man or a woman) – This scent by the way, also comes with a complete line of shampoos, conditioners and body soaps (I use the latter 3, still need the perfume)

3. Dior – J’Adore

4. Estee Lauder – Sensuous

5. Ralph Lauren – Notorious

 

Scents I urge you to avoid:

Paris Hilton – Fairy Dust

Christina Aguilera’s new one

J.Lo’s fruity line

Not just because they are celebrities, but because the scent is REALLY sour to people with sensitive smell – and not only that, it lingers in a bad way. Like a leech onto skin. You just can’t get it off of you.

Tick..tick…tick…

I was talking with a close friend today on the phone – and we were talking about how we were getting older. She’s 4 years into a marriage, I’m 8 into mine. She’s already had her first child, I’ve yet to have any. She’s freaking out about 29 – I’ve been there for 7 months already, and it’s not that different than 28, 27 or 26 if you ask me. And in the middle of the conversation, I was blown away. “You know, if you ever needed me to, if it ever came down to it, I’d be your surrogate.” And she meant it. It was single-handedly one of the most self-less gestures from someone I’ve long considered someone who’s always been about the ‘what’s in it for me?’. I kind of laughed about it for a moment and said thank you and how sweet that was, and then after the phone call, my head exploded.

I’d never thought about the fact that to some, I’m getting <i> too old </i> to have a baby. I’m being looked at as ‘flawed’ or ‘incapable’ of producing a byproduct – and that, in fact, what was wrong with me for not wanting to do that as soon as humanly possible? And if that’s the case, what about my friends who aren’t even married yet? Didn’t Nicole Kidman (and Salma Hayek) just have their first at 41? I’m not even 30! How old IS too old to start having kids? And what if I don’t even want to HAVE them? What if I just want to be a mom, without the process? Because in all honesty, that’s really where my heads at. 

Everyone says ‘oh, you stop being scared about having kids the second you get pregnant.’ But for me, it’s not necessarily a fear of having kids. I’d really love to be a mom one day. And if it happens naturally, then it does. If it doesn’t, in my mind, I’m thinking no biggie. But what if…

Ten years down the road. I’m 40. I’ve been saying ‘no biggie’ for 10 years. And nothing’s changed. Still working. Still having a good time with the husband, spoiling ourselves on trips, going to concerts, watching my friends have babies and get married and start families. Still writing away on my blog about life, and all of its ups and downs, and all of the new medications that are out there that make my brain just a little less anxious. Where will my head be then? Will I be thinking … well, I’ve blown it. I’ve missed my chance to have a baby of my own that came from me naturally?

I guess the real fear is regret. Regret at not making important decisions at the right time. In some respect, I’ve been confronted with several ‘important’ decisions in my life – and depending on when you ask me, I may or may not believe at that given moment that I made a correct choice – but I don’t go back now and look at them as ‘right or wrong’ choices. And as I become more and more aware of the fact that my life is blessed in so many ways, that I am loved and I love in return, what is the next step?

In my mind, I’m still too young to have kids. I’m still too young to look at adoption agencies, and I’m still too anxious to want o carry something in my body for 9 months – I can’t get the visual image of the ‘exploding belly scene’ from Alien out of my head actually. But I know that thousands upon thousands of women have babies everyday. And, seeing as how I was in the room for a large part of the delivery of the said ’surrogate request’ friend above, it didn’t really look too scary, just a bit uncomfortable – but what did she know, she was totally juiced. Anyone who is laughing hysterically while Animal Planet is on and pushing a 9 lb. baby out at the same time is definitely on some good drugs.

I guess it just throws me for a loop when my life is looked at like a ticking clock. Why does life have to be: (1) Be born, (2) Go to school,  (3) Get a Job, (4) Get Married, (5) Start a Family, (6) Make cheesy vacation videos, (7) Watch your friends die, (8) Die Yourself.  

Why can’t it be: (1) Be Born, (2) Go to School, (3) Start Thinking for Yourself, (4) Find Someone You Love, (5) Experience Life to the Fullest (6) Have No Fear or Pain, (7) Cross over to a theme-park like atmosphere where Neil Diamond plays everyday at noon on the front lawn and ‘Happy Tree’ Guy teaches art on the back patio and old friends sip mimosas on the porch swing with big red hats.

Shooting the shit.

 

In the ever-changing world that is my life, I love one thing more than any other: connections. Back in the college days it was definitely a different kind of connection, but nowadays, it’s really one in particular: conversational connections.

The world has so many distractions nowadays that we never TALK anymore. Sure, we can go to a concert, see a movie, hang out – but what are we doing? Distracting ourselves. Those things are fun – actually all three of those are right up there on my lists of stuff to do when I have time off – but I love to talk. And not on the telephone . I guess you could say, I love to talk to people that don’t have a 100% vested interest in my life – so we can exclude best friends, husband and family. That’s probably why I spend a lot of time on the computer – I get snippets of lives without having to listen to the whole awkward story about it.

One thing, however, usually ends up as a ‘flag’ on my record. I primarily like to talk to guys. With the exception of a few girls, guys hold my attention in conversation far more than other people. I like to ‘converse’ with them – about life, music, points of view, politics, etc. Usually, when I’m trying to talk to a girl – it gets into the usual: boy/husband problems, self image and the one-upping of ________ accomplishments (insert career, life, marriage, kids). And no offense, I’m interested in discussing  that with my friends I’ve known for years and are basically family – but with other people I want to talk about the completely random musings. And girls rarely do that – they want someone to ‘vent to.’ Guys don’t like to vent, they like to shoot the shit – something girls don’t do very well. Or most don’t anyway.

So, I’m in Atlanta at a concert with my friend from work, who’s about 4-5 years younger than me. Totally cute, loveable, adorable, size 2 blonde. And here I am, size 10/12, stocky and totally-uninterested in anyone I don’t find amusing. We’re both married – so we’re not looking to pick up anybody. We’re at the K.O.L. concert and we’re staying at a hotel around the corner. We’ve had a couple of beers at the concert, okay scratch that, about 8. And we’re walking back to the hotel, when we meet this lovely couple on the way back standing at the corner of our hotel. Now, I’m not quite ready to turn in and neither is my friend – so we strike up a conversation with the couple on the corner, asking them if they know where a good bar is that’s still open in the middle of the week in downtown ATL. 

So, they say … our hotel’s got a bar … and yes it did. I don’t remember which hotel it was, but it was some chain .. maybe an OMNI or a Sheraton, I don’t know. All I know is we were there in a few blocks – but during the walk, we were having a conversation with the couple, who was also quite tipsy. The female was in her mid-30’s and cute as a button. She looks like Lisa Loeb. And the husband was quite a bit older (I’d say late 40’s) but still looked pretty young, and looked like Bjorn Borg. So, my friend Emily gravitates towards girls in conversation (usually because all the guys are trying to pick her up and it makes her uncomfortable), and I, with my short legs hang out in the back – and start chatting it up with the guy. We start talking about of all things – where we work. It turns out he works for an airline of some kind, but does literary editing on the side. His wife works for the same company and that’s where they met, fell in love and had a cute, 10.5 pound baby within the year. I think it’s his 2nd marriage, or maybe his 3rd, but they’re just adorable. He’s asking me all sorts of print-media questions which is awesome, because he’s actually interested in conversing, not picking me up.

Anyway, before we know it, we’re at the hotel – and the husband and wife sit at our high table and buy us beers. And the husband starts talking about all of the things I wish guys would talk about: literature, music and really good acting/movies. And it’s like the world drowns out.

It’s now 2.5 hours and 4 beers later, and the bar which was once filled with single serving friends  (ALL GUYS MIND YOU) dressed in business suits and rimmed glasses – my friend Emily and the wife have been outside to smoke about 4-5 times now, and the husband, who apparently smokes a lot but I haven’t seen him do it yet, has yet to leave his seat. We’re STILL talking – about all the random things like Joseph Gordon Levitt’s best indie film, the great folk singers of our decade, and the lucky few on our LOVE PASS lists. The wife is included on almost all of the conversation, as I make sure to do, because the last thing I’m trying to do is pick up someone’s hubby. She adds a few things, but for the most part I think she’s far tipsier than I’ve realized.

So, Emily has gotten really drunk, unable to keep up with the conversation and starts getting messy because she’s 90 pounds and unsober, so it’s time to wrap up the night. It’s now 3 AM. On a Tuesday night. In ATL. I exchange a ‘requested’ napkin with the husband and wife, and take Emily back to our hotel. We awake the next morning, I’ve talked my hangover away that evening, but Emily was NOT well. 3 hours after her first wake up call, she’s finally able to get out of the bed. 2 hours after that she’s finally able to stop throwing up. And she’s completely oblivious to the fact we sat with a married couple in a hotel bar for 3 hours. 

We get home and actually return to work that day.  I get an email from the married couple asking when I’m coming back to Atlanta for more good times. Not the swinger kind mind you, just good conversational and musical fun.

This is what I do NOT have in Alexander City. People that are COOL with conversation, having social drinks and listening to a great concert, and aren’t concerned about females having conversations with husbands and vice versa. When people ask what I miss most about big cities – its not the things you can do, but it’s the randomness of the people you meet. 

I remember in college I used to drink myself silly to try and fit in during social scenes – attempting my best daft sorority high pitched tone and flirting to black out the fact that all I really wanted was someone who understood me.

All in all, I made some good friends that night in Atlanta. And I’m happy that now I don’t  change who I am to fit into social situations. That although I’m kind of ’snobby’ when it comes to those I talk to (because for the most part, if you’re not amusing me, I’m ignoring you), every blue moon you run into someone that gets it.

Either you get my conversation, or you don’t. You get my cynicism and one-liners, or you don’t. And well, they totally got it. And it felt nice to run into someone that did.

I love technology.

 

I will never underestimate the power of the human mind.

One of my blogs popped up over on Alphainventions.com and I have been hooked on it ever since. I saw a new inflow of lots of peeps to my site, where as before I had mostly only got reads from people I knew – unless people like It’s a Prata Life link to blogs of mine like ‘My Spellcheck Hates Barack Obama‘.

It’s exciting when you find out that we really are all connected. So I salute you inventors of technology (and the sites that show me love). This Napoleon Dynamite tune is for you (see above).

Glad they stole the covers.

I love covers. I love it when artists tackle one – and sometimes it works, sometimes not.

Here are some of my faves. I will add on as I find more.

“Shenandoah” – Bruce Springsteen & The Seeger Sessions, originally sung by lots of people, particularly crew of ships

“Long Black Veil” – Bob Dylan, originally sung by Johnny Cash

“Darling Nikki” – Foo Fighters, originally by Prince

“Landslide” – Smashing Pumpkins (or Dixie Chicks, both are good), originally sung by Fleetwood Mac

“Hey Ya” – Obadiah Parker, originally by Outkast

“If You Were Here” – Cary Brothers, originally by Thompson Twins

“Sweet Jane” – Cowboy Junkies, originally by Lou Reed

“Hallelujah” – Jeff Buckley, originally Leonard Cohen

“Hurt” – Johnny Cash, originally Nine Inch Nails

“It Makes no Difference” – My Morning Jacket, originally The Band

“We Will Become Silhouettes” – The Shins, originally Postal Service

“Act Nice & Gentle” – The Black Keys, originally the Kinks

“I Found a Reason” – Cat Power, originally Velvet Underground

“Tears on My Pillow” – Clem Snide, originally Little Anthony & The Imperials

“Smooth Criminal” – Alien Ant Farm, originally Michael Jackson

“Lay Lady Lay” – Magnet, originally by Bob Dylan

[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UAif3KBavSQ

“Sexual Healing” – Ben Harper, originally by Marvin Gaye

“Ring of Fire” – Coldplay, originally Johnny Cash

“In the Sun” – Michael Stipe/Coldplay, originally by Joseph Arthur

“Have a Little Faith in Me” – Joe Cocker, originally by John Hiatt

“Such Great Heights” – Iron and Wine, originally The Postal Service

 

And some of my fave from the RockStar series (Which showcases FAR BETTER TALENT than American Idol could ever dream). I only list these because they do covers for a large part of the 10 weeks.

“In the Air Tonight” – Ryan Star, originally by Phil Collins

“Knockin’ On Heaven’s Door” – Jordis Unga, originally by Bob Dylan

“Wish You Were Here” – Marty Casey, originally by Pink Floyd

“Losing My Religion” – Suzie McNeil, originally REM

The Uncommon Denomination

If you’ve read any of my previous posts, it’s pretty obvious that I am all over the place in terms of inner-struggle and emotions. One day I can be so sure of myself, the next day so unsure. At times, I think its because I depend solely on myself – so I have nothing to fall on when times are tough or when they are great – other than me.

A lot of my friends believe in God. They believe, for the most part, what they read in the Bible as fact. And that’s fine. They base political choices on God. They base the way they act on God. The things that they say on God. They have their faith as a moral compass – they can even say “This is where God wants me to be.” or “It’s all in God’s hands.” Those phrases scare me every which way. I don’t have that feeling at all – but that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t like to have some sort of faith other than faith in myself. So I am constantly reading up on religious/philosophical views to see where, if anywhere, I fit in. Or if its even possible to GROUP myself into one particular category.

For easy discussion in my life, I have loosely classified myself as an agnostic with atheistic leaning. I don’t believe one way or the other, but lean more against than for. I have gone through too many things and pulled myself out the other side on my own – and to me it had absolutely nothing to do with a mystical power above. Lance Armstrong, I’ve read, feels the same way (not to say that’s a good or bad thing).

I’ve been (or resembled) the following on my journey:

1. Fake christian – someone who was told the holy spirit was in my life, and that I should believe it; so I wished it and wished it and wished it, i read the Bible and I went to groups; I was a church camp counselor and a church camp camper – all under the guise that I was there for God – when really I felt nothing at all.

2. Agnostic – Maybe there’s a God, maybe there isn’t. I’m not smart enough to figure that out.

3. Atheist – There is no God. Absolutely not.

4. Jain – Was the perfect answer until I realized I couldn’t eat meat. Or even eat off a plate that meat was once on.

5. Pagan – (not the negative connotation of that) where I believed in the Gods of nature and mysticism.

6. Relativist, Objectivist and Humanist – Have been all three at different times.

And then lately, I’ve been increasingly drawn to one religion in particular. One that at gut instinct felt like a fit – and one that, the more I read, I became more and more interested in – rather than the usual result of me trying to break from it. I stumbled upon it while reading essays by one of its members.

This ‘religion’ (I know it classifies itself as that, but it’s really more of an overall philosophy) is relatively new – having merged from two belief systems and became one in 1961. It’s also talked up as a liberal faith-based organization (not necessarily theistic) – which seems pretty accurate from what I’ve read.

The seven principles of this philosophy/religion are:

• The inherent worth and dignity of every person;
• Justice, equity and compassion in human relations;
• Acceptance of one another and encouragement to spiritual growth;
• A free and responsible search for truth and meaning;
• The right of conscience and the use of the democratic process within society at large;
• The goal of world community with peace, liberty, and justice for all;
• Respect for the interdependent web of all existence of which we are a part.

I think for me, the hardest part of trying to be another religion was the ’set of rules set forth by a higher power’ that I was supposed to follow or believe were mandated to me and others in society. In this particular philosophy – it’s all about the power of yourself – but with the respect and commitment to other individuals as humans as free thinkers.

Some notable people of this belief system:

1. Roger Baldwin, American Civil Liberties Union

2. Ray Bradbury, Science fiction writer

3. Brock Chisolm, Director of World Health Organization

4. e.e. Cummings, poet & painter

5. Mary White Ovington, founder of NAACP

6. Pete Seeger, folk singer and song writer

7. Rodman Edward Serling, host/writer/producer of Twilight Zone

8. Adlai Stevenson, former Governor of Illinois, democratic candidate for President and US Ambassador to the UN

9. Frank Lloyd Wright, architect

10. Christopher Reeve, actor and stem cell research promoter

Now I didn’t list the above to promote a ‘Who’s Who’ of this philosophy – I did it to show a variety of the achievements that have been accomplished by each of these people – that this philosophy doesn’t just work behind the scenes for them – it’s what makes them challenge society – and work for the betterment and equality of all people.

I think what can be said about all of the above is one thing – they didn’t place  their life or situation above anyone else’s. They all worked to bring awareness to something – through art, through civil rights, through the promotion of scientific research. I see pieces of myself in each of these people .

One thing about this philosophy, is that it unites people of several different backgrounds – a large percentage identify themselves as humanists – but a very small percentage identify themselves as Christian in the way that it is laid out in today’s society.

Where I am – I’m sure that this philosophy is looked at much like one of those cult religions, but only because of the fact I am swarmed with Baptists, Methodists and Seventh Day Adventists in my local area. It’s really just a completely different perspective – both on religion in general and the world as a whole.

If you’ve made it to this point in the post – thanks for listening.

For those interested in the Unitarian Universalism, feel free to look up their web site at www.uua.org.

Nurture Your Spirt, Help Heal Our World.

My spellcheck hates Barack Obama.

Damn my spellcheck.

I’ve obviously used Barack Obama on quite a few occasions recently. And still, the red line appears under it every time. As if to say… NO! THAT IS WRONG! RED UNDERLINE MEANS WRONG! BARACK OBAMA IS WRONG! Even in this post, little red lines appearing beneath his name.

So what does this mean? Is spellcheck (also, hilariously, underlined in red, even though the name of it is, in fact, spellcheck not spell check) Republican or racist? Can we infer also that Rahm would also be underlined in red (it is, indeed)?

And what about Bush or McCain? Nope. Not a single underline. I did not realize that McCain was so common in spellcheck land.

Damn you hateful spellcheck machine!!

So this agnostic marries a Catholic…

Sounds like a joke, I know. But I did.

Nowadays, I think I let too much stuff get in the way of the basics.

1. I love and I am loved.

2. I laugh and I am laughed at.

3. I am me and I accept it. You are you, and I accept that too.

I can’t claim faith where there is none. I can’t claim that I’ve spoken to any member of a holy trinity. I had a blast in youth group, but didn’t feel closer to anything because of it. Only felt closer to friends and got kept out of trouble. 

I looked, and still look, at the Bible with a curious eye. I think it reads like a really good fiction novel based loosely on fact of the day, but that’s about it. (A moment of silence for my friends dropping onto their knees and praying for me…because I know you guys are out there).

I want my generation to find a cure for physical and mental health diseases more than I care if what I say offends you. I want Tom to love Dick or Sally, as long as it makes him happy. I know friends and family that fought in wars who went in for what they were told were the right reasons, and came out thinking they couldn’t believe what they’d done in the name of their Country and their God…and questioned whether they wanted to live after it. Supporting the troops starts with not filling their heads with propaganda and suicide missions.

I don’t think I will ever understand why it’s okay for you to hold a ‘Heaven’s Gates, Hell’s Flames’ play at my local high school, but I can’t do a play on a different point of view without the town causing an uproar, burning down my house and throwing me in jail. I understand you believe what you believe, and that you make decisions based on that – but why am I any less of a person because I do the same.

All Time Favorite Movie Death Scenes, Pt. 1

This is my top 3 that I can think of right off hand.

Feel free to comment and add your own!

 

Don't miss a piece of the action!

 

 

 

 

1. Grindhouse Presents: Death Proof

When Kurt Russell’s car rolls over the four lovely ladies shredding them to bits. Each girl gets her own form of sudden death – but my favorite by far has to be the rotating tire to Butterfly’s face. A close second to Jungle Julia’s all-to-real-looking leg amputation out the window. Tarantino sure does know how to kill em. And pick one hell of a soundtrack.

 

 

2. Slither

Right about the point where Grant Grant whips his tentacle-like arm at the gun-toting redneck – I knew it was going to be good. And then, there it was. Split him right down the middle with all of his insides making a vertical drop for the ground. This film had so many great deaths to choose from (second goes to the inflated girl in the barn, who implodes letting out thousands of alien worms into the backcountry.)

 

3. Sleepy Hollow

Baltus. Poor Baltus. (a) He’s hiding out in a church from the headless horseman. (b) He gets speared through the chest, while in church. (c) He gets flung out a window and dragged behind a horse. (d) He gets his head sliced off in Marie Antoinette-fashion, sans angry french mob.