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UNSPUN with ANNAZ |
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| annaz@radiofreerepublic.com | |||||||||||||||||||||||
| http://unspunwithannaz.blogspot.com | |||||||||||||||||||||||
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What can be said aboot AnnaZ that hasn’t been said already? In fact a lot. Did you know that at the tender age of two she shot a grizzly in her Great White Northern home? Her family feasted on the precious meat for the entire winter. A winter so long and cold that her family slept in the body of the bear, known affectionately as “The Bear”. That same winter she began her studies at home, learning to read and write with bits of coal and the hide of many rabbit pelts. By the time she was four she was reading at a college level and had already cracked the human genome code. She used the notes to start a fire to cook more of “The Bear” and they were lost but the accomplishment was not lost on her parents who quickly sold many of her oil paintings to buy her more books. By the time she was six she had mastered several musical instruments including the archaic lute and the challenging “stick”, and she even had the time to invent the Megatar. Never one to rest on her laurels, at the age of 8 she set out to break the record for the shortest time in the Iditarod sled dog race with the unique use of a combination of Pekineses, Weiner Dogs, and Pugs. Her configuration of lower center of gravity pooches is still talked aboot in some hot stove general stores. Bored with organized sports she threw herself back in to her studies and discovered that the “5440 or Fight” nomenclature was inherently flawed as she had discovered the lines were actually farther north because of magnetic drift due to the ongoing polar shift. She left her notes at a friend’s house and the father of the friend stole the discovery as his own. At the age of ten she had converted her hometown of Moosejaw to a hydrogen and methane based perpetual generation energy source based on Caribou, Elk, Polar Bear, and Weiner Dog droppings. The process was not patented by her and subsequently it was stolen and patented by greedy Republican oil barons who buried the technology in their vaults where only Dick Cheney has the key. Nonplussed, she pressed on in her studies and by the time she was twelve she had three degrees in Political Science, Animal Husbandry, and Rolling Cigarettes. She minored in History and Logical Fallacies in Deconstruction (much to the dismay of many a liberal professor and chairlift operator). She bid her humble family of 30 farewell by the time she was 14 and launched out for the world with ambition and fame as her goal. Unfortunately, she had to work at the Quik Stop just on the edge of town for another two years before she could get enough gas money to cross the border (this was the 80’s you know). Finally the day came and she hustled a logging company in to cutting the branches off the trees before they actually milled the lumber and earned a ride to Washington State. She had reached the New World. A world of television, public education, bad jokes, expatriate Canadian comedians, bad fast food, or in other words Canada with many more TV stations. She was home. Too bad she didn’t stay for long. After a whirlwind cross country tour that involved a tangle with Hunter S. Thompson, a few circus monkeys, and several (now incarcerated) deputies she arrived in New York City. There she was quickly scooped up by some unscrupulous agent at a bus stop and hired to a famous modeling agency that has since been shut down due to pending litigation. Her modeling career blossomed at an alarming rate and she jetted around the world displaying her trademark look of glaring contempt for the industry. This was the look that launched many a supermodel prior to heroin chic and less rounded fashion statements that fell flat, of course. During a particularly nasty coup attempt in South America she began to acquire and appreciate guns and the effect they had on bottom pinching and otherwise rude men. This would be a turning point for her and she would eventually ditch her modeling career for the comfy confines of the burgeoning gun rights advocacy movement. A wise move, several supermodels failed to see the career path and suffered lackluster 401K returns and they were last seen trying to prop up ailing White Castle franchises with hopped up Honda hot rods and booming systems. Eventually Anna settled in Los Angeles and met the man of her dreams. An erstwhile, hard working, and rough around the edges boy from Brooklyn. They married and Anna began her new career as a breeder and fledgling documentary filmmaker. Her freshman effort was stellar in depth but ended up signaling the demise of most of the subjects of said film. Something Anna will never admit. Jack Valenti phoned her lawyer Nathan Thurm and was said to scream that the film was dangerous. Nathan responded in his typical fashion by declaring, “Where did you hear that? Did I say that? I never said that. Why do you say that I said that when I never said that?" These days Anna can be found doing what most married with children moms are doing: breeding thoroughbred horses, knitting, volunteering for the local hostage negotiator team, armchair marine biology, flying armed ultra-lights, putting out fires, writing columns, baking cookies, defusing errant bombs, being a Farsi translator for local charities, home schooling, stealing newspapers, editing the Anarchist’s Cookbook, designing bridges without cables based on nano-technology, helping the folks at Area51 get a better public image, building street rods the old-fashioned way (one at a time), raising her kids, addressing the issues of the undergarment industry and getting a good tan. She also has a talk show for Radio Free Republic sponsored by the Free Republic Network. |
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