Off..... Just get off.....

Frienda mine... Emailed me her contribution to a "think before you speak" thingy she was reading... She shared hers... Now here it is for the world: (Sorry Connie!)

"We are outside amidst several people getting ready to go camping, yet stopped at the little store to pick up some things. I say quite loudly, "Hey, can I get Off in the store?" Everyone around looked at me and people I didn't even know starting laughing. I merely turned around and went back to the vehicle."

Hehe... I would think permissible if it was a Quick Trip... or mebbe Jiffy Stop.. or Jiffy Lube... IHOP might be a little obvious though... as would Gregory's Gourd Stand... (The ex, in her shopping at Price Chopper, usedta buy ONE cucumber.. drove me nuts.. "PLEASE don't buy just one - people are staring.")
In and Out Burger?... Outback would be Ok... Long Johns?...

This musta happened a few years back - for she said her kids will bring it up from time to time... I love stuff like that...

Whenever I needa good laugh.. I try to either think of something from the past in my own personal life - or from the wonderful world of TV/Movies we grew up in... I'm certain I've opened mouth and inserted foot - but perhaps I've killed off too many brain cells and just can't remember any specific story to share...

Soup Nazi makes me smile. Barney and his bullet.. Parenthood when Steve Martin's kid finally catches a fly ball to save the day and Steve's rolling in excitement like a dog on his back in the grass...

Belushi as the Samari warrior... The fart scene on Blazing Saddles.... Steve Martin - am I stuck here? When he told Lily Tomlin he TOO faked his orgasms..

Anything Tim Conway does... Harvey Korman a close second.. Momma's Family.. Chevy Chase on any vacation... Closer to home, onea our neighborhood kids named Ricky who had a schevere lishp when he talked... He'd say "can I schit by you guysh?"...

Red Skelton and his award winning smile... Letterman and his stunts... Homer Simpson, my idol.. Carson/Karnak... BeyBey's kids "we don't die... we multiply"... David Spade and his smartassedness... There's simply nothing like a good ole laugh.. No cares, no worries, just leggo o that couped up stress from down around the belly area...

Seated at the blackjack table the other night.. (no? YOU?) Alright alright, guilty as charged.. but hey, it's fun, I pay my damn bills, and I'm FIFTY-THREE for goodness sakes... Anyways.. Feller hada Chief's shirt on... Oriental dealer was trying to get conversation going... Said "Hey, do you bet on professional football?"... "Eh, a little bit" the guy chirped back... Dealer turns head to me... "No sir, I don't gamble." I guess you hadta be there..

Anyways... I promise I'd laugh if you shared things from your past that have made you laugh... Laughing is a good thing.. May they come your way frequently... HAppy HAppy HAppy day... Victurd.

Hellomoto.....

Addictions are addictions. Gambling. Drinking. Drugs. Food. Sex and Love. Work. Internet. I've had maybe one or two of the above.. Ok, maybe two or three of the above.. Addictive personalities are addictive personalities...

I get emails every day from a contractor of ours at work - and she's addicted to Emoticons. Every email she sends contains one, if not two - emoticons. Could be the little round feller simply clapping his hands.. Mebbe leaning back and forth as he belly laughs back over something that was written.. Sticking out tongue... Smirk... My lips are sealed... Salute... Wink... etc...etc... etc..

For awhile, the little bastards are cute... Then, after ya seen 'em enough, ya wanna take target practice at 'em... As in nerves - getting on. For the most part, they're "atta boy" or "atta girl" kinda things.

Now Mrs. Perfectveryniceandwiseoldlady I usedta teach with would be appalled by the below. She usedta say "I can't imagine a life where everything has to be 'cutting up' - a joke... what kind of life would that be?"..... Well, maybe I'm simple. Maybe I'm Victor Immature.. Maybe I just like fun.. (See the funny little clown...) Anyways, here goes:

I'm thinkin' Motorola could go the other way - and have their own Hellomotocons. The obvious would be flipping someone off... Bending over and shooting a moon... The "up yours" hellomotocon... Hand to lips - then point at booty...

Would could extend to cultural emoticons... The saggin'African American hellomotocon that says "sup?"... When you bore with someone - the Mexican "vaminos" hellomoto flipping both hands out...

The cut to the chase hellomotocon where you point toward screen, then back to self, then make a disgusting left index finger inserted into hole made by semi closed right hand.. The little pee pee hellomoto... The humongous boobies gesture...

The pickabooger hellomoto... Another good one that could be winged back to someone who is ALWAYS serious might be the little finger cleaning ear wax hellomotocon... The monkey hellomotocon, where he poops, scoops it up and wings it at the screen... The doggie on three legs with the 4th leg hiked toward the screen...

Imagine the possibilities.. Cooties.. Herpes.. You stink.. You'rea jerk.. etc.. etc.. etc..

With apologies to Mrs. Perfectveryniceandwiseoldlady - hellomotocon. Happy day (Insert smiley face here).. Victurd.

With a shout out to Goldilocks......

4:30am this morning.. thanks to insomnia, coupled with going to bed at 9:30pm - I find myself ordering the All-Star breakfast at Waffle House...

No, the subject today is not "stupid". Stupid (is as stupid does) - but stupid is a Waffle House customer at 2am, not 4:30am. Today's topic is comfy. I went to the newspaper box to purchase a paper - thank goodness my needing-2.25magnification-eyeballs still recognized it was Sunday's paper (yesterday) in the box - I wasn't comfy with that.

So in I went... Feller seated at end of counter nodded.. Nice chicky greeted me with cup of coffee and a smile.. I'm reading the portion of the Sunday paper I had tucked away in my car that I hadn't read yet... and nice chicky peeks out window - sees pickemup truck with a half dozen yeller lights adorning the top of the cab and says with somewhat excited regularity "Here comes Jim!"...

Jim walks in.. appearing to be outta bed for only 7-8 minutes by now.. groans at his welcome from the nice chicky - she retorts back with "Now you just turn around and get the heck outta here if you're gonna come in all grumpy." Jim smiled, and made his way to his regular chair where his already full coffee cup awaited him.

Another walks in.. similar scenerio... I'm seated betweengst three WH male groupies - and their daily grind, ie, comfort. A chicky pulls in - there's teasing an bantering between the three - and she sits next to the 3rd groupie - seemingly regular visit - seemingly innocent. (He mentioned his wife several times in the conversation..)

We, along life's trail, simply seek comfort. Virtually all the minutes of life are either comfortable - or not. Familiarity breeds comfort. Pulled into the gas station this morning to purchase my normal $8 of gas... Uncomfortable that Annette wasn't behind the counter... Bought OJ insteada coffee as my tummy has been uncomfy - as the manager (who looked like she got dressed in two minutes, no shower after fielding Annette's "I ain't gonna make it today" phone call) rang it up I said "Oh yeah... I'd like $8 on pump one" - "we're having problems with the gas this morning.. I'm sorry.. I've got assistance on the way." "WHAT?" This is the levelest damn drive of any gas station in town - and my Ionlygotneutraldriveandreverse vehicle LOVES coming here for it doesn't have to be harnessed ('chalked') and there are no worries about a driverless cruise and having to purchase a quarter panel for onea them fancy SUV's with the nice, uppity insignia on the center of the hood.

So, I drive to work on "E". Shit. Go the normal one-lane-each-way highway, still dark, GD pickemup truck (no, not Jim) right behind with his headlights (of course) 6 inches over the top of my trunk and blaring right into my rear view mirror. Uncomfy. Bastard passes me, even more uncomfy. There've been a few 'dead ends' on that road when cars go over the centerline...

Checkenginelight comes on, I'm back to comfy - but I do wonder "WTF? When it goes off, does that mean I ain't gotta check it?" I play my comfy radio station, I go my comfy 291 to 210 to 435 to 71 way.. I drink my OJ to try to provide comfort to my belly.

As I drive - was thinking abouta chicky at work who said her 2nd grade son cried and cried the first day of school 'cause he was new to district and the familiarity bond just wasn't there. "He'll be fine.. being a teacher back in the dinosaur days - I can tell you there are people/teachers/staff that will pickup on that.. and before long he'll be 'special'." Comfy, we all need comfy.

Comfy kinda makes you proud of the pioneers who emblazoned - and usurped comfy to create/find a 'new' comfort for themselves. Inventors who aren't comfy with some things in life being status quo. Military men and women who trade their own comfort so we back home can have comfort and freedom. For those non-meek folks in situations who have the nads to stand up and say "I'm not comfy with that."

Pedicure/manicure.. backrubs... 7-up and crackers.. greetings.. forwarded emails... car in same spot - starting expectedly every time.. familiar faces.. an answered phone call and hearing the recognizable voice say "well HI so-and-so"... Sleep number beds.. We really are creatures of habit. (Habit, for a nun, is comfy.) Hehe.

Not too comfy: Driving rental cars in unfamiliar territory.. Your normal route - huh uh - road closed.. That face you woke up to for years and years and years no longer being there... First time to wear a thong, now I think that would be uncomfy. (Wonder if a nun has ever worna thong?) A loose Rottweiler on the block.. overhearing (for the third time in a day) a co-worker bitching to another co-worker about this-n-that... The GD 7-16th inch socket being gone when you need a GD 7-16th inch socket.. Being forced to do something you don't wanna do.. Seeing a friend hellbent on doing something that you happen to think is not in their best interest - and you fight to stay silent... Uncomfy.

Comfortble in my own skin. Financially comfortable. (Not me, - the saying.) Comfortable bed. Comfy slippers. Comfy sex. (Is it ever uncomfy?) I'm gonna go get comfy. Comfortable music. Your hometown downtown Square. USA Today on a road trip. That favorite living room chair that has long since memorized the shape and weight of your butt. I'm comfy with that.

Ok, it's 7am, I've killed two-and-a-half of the three-and-a-half hours of my awakedness until the work bell tolls. I'm going to go visit in my good friend Leon's office. It's a daily thing - smiles, banter, personal updates, gossip (I don't repeat gossip - so listen close the first time.) et al. Leon's office is my (and three others) morning "Waffle House."... Quoting Goldi, it's juuuuuuust right... Are you comfy with that? Happy day, bye bye now, love, Victurd.

$100,000

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Dear Heaven.....

Hi mom, dad, Vanda…

I know you’re having a blast – and I miss you so… Down here on earth – you live on. I try like crazy to spread bits and pieces of your sense of humor… Occasionally I slip – but for the most part – I try to emulate you in enjoying each and every day here – and to not get too stressy over much of anything.

Vanda, dad: the ’93 Taurus still goes. In fact, I do this blog thing and it’s entitled after the nifty mobile. I think of you each and every time my hands touch where yours did.

Post-funerals: again, you live on. There’s not a day I wake up I don’t “see” you. Not a day goes buy I don’t yearn to hug you. While my life is kinda-sorta mundane – there’s been so many times I’ve wanted to pickup the phone and share things with you. Your grandson “Maynard” – he’s a damn fine lookin’ kid if I do say so myself. He’s gotta great laugh – and lo and behold – he’s gotta job.

Vanda – your girls are awesome mom’s – and your grandkids are awesome kids. Sure, I’m biased – but, I also don’t lie. They are neat, neat kids.

I’ve been thru two marriages now (7 years, 24 years), countless internet dates (I’ll explain that one – one day when I hopefully get up there)… and I’ve met some really, really nice people. I love where I work – I have the workload for 1.4 people – but that’s the way (uh huh uh huh) I like it (uh huh uh huh).

In 1996, my incredibly average athletic career ended when I lost the vote to continue playing slowpitch 1-1.

Went to the Mill this summer – and again, I “saw” you. Vanda, you were telling a story and held everyone’s attention – I don’t know if I ever told you this – but I think you have the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen. Dad – you were napping on the back deck to the sound of the waterfall whooshing through. Mom, you were in the kitchen with your sister and Eileen – talking about the days shortly after the war..

Please don’t be upset – but I cried like a baby when each of you departed. I hope you know it simply means how much you meant to me – how lucky I felt to have had you as a mother, father, sister - and how deeply I miss you. Life is still good – but it’s just not the same without you. Mom, I use your advice (every day) of “the secret to success is how you deal with Plan B.” Boy do I miss Plan A though.

Again, you’re “still here”. I often think to myself “what would my dad do in this instance?”… Or, “what would mom write right here?”.. Or, “can I conjure up some kinda prank on one I love like Vanda woulda?”

I hope heaven is as good as advertised. I’ve nothing to compare it to – but I will tellya Maui was pretty damn awesome – I hope it’s like that – if that’s what you like.. Just wanted to write and say thinking of you…

Love… forever… Victurd… (Dad, remember it was YOU who penned that nickname on me!)

King of the Wild Frontier...

Born on a mountaintop in Tennessee... Maynard, as a child, loved the lore of Davy Crockett... We had the movie on video - and he'd watch it over and over and over again...

One day we were discussing this legend.. and Maynard asked how he died... "Well son, he was killed in his heroic effort at the Alamo against Mexican forces as he helped bring Independence for Texas. "HE DID NOT... HE DIDN'T DIE... COME ON DAD, WATCH THE MOVIE WITH ME, I'LL SHOW YOU SO."...

So one day we did... The entire story about Davy.. growing up... his coonskin cap... "Old Betsy" the infamous rifle...

After the real good parts of the old movie... the Battle of the Alamo wasn't going too well.. As the closing credits to the movie began - Davy - encircled by literally hundreds of Santa Anna troups - was swinging his machete wildly in spirit - and his end was presumed. "SEE DAD, I TOLD YA HE DIDN'T DIE" as the credits ended - never focusing on Davy's eventual doom. "I TOLD YA."

So... all this crap began when the check engine light came on. It likened life. My car was my sister's. My sister passed of breast cancer in 1999. She had given it to my father. My father passed in 2003. He's given it to me. The spirit of Davy Crockett lives in it..

No AC. One-third of the bumper broken off. Checkenginelight on. Brake light on - sometimes. I have drive, reverse and neutral. No park. (Was in a store the other night - I hadn't wedged anything in under the tire... clerk hollers out "HEY, that car is moving and there's no one in it!".. GULP, I knew whose it was - and I managed to stop it before it did any damage.

Driver's side visor fell off. Fan switch for heat/defrost works on 2 of the 6 settings.

Friends I haven't seen in awhile say "MAN... you still got that thing?"... "Vic, you need to spend some money and get something valuable.".. "When you get in it, do you worry about it making it to work?"

IT'S NOT DYING. I SWEAR IT'S NOT. THIS MOVIE AIN'T OVER. THE '93 TAURUS - THE SPIRIT OF DAVY CROCKETT - VANDA - BUD - IT AIN'T ENDING. Screw Santa Anna, screw anyone who thinks "Oh my God" when they see it.

I dunno how long Davy stood atop that little hill wielding off the Mexican troups. This wonderfully ugly, mechanical rat-trap, spiritually gifted car of mine keeps going. It's my only way to feel like I'm 'touching' them.

Have a great day - and wrap them arms around the ones ya love, Victurd

And I do my little turn on the catwalk...yeah on the catwalk..

I'm too tubby for my shirt, too tubby for my shirt.... I reread the lyrics to that song... and no, I ain't too sexy for Milan, New York, Japan. Not too sexy for my hat.. Not too sexy for your party... Not too sexy for my cat (Whatever that means Right Said Fred)...

But... I AM TOO SEXY FOR MY CAR, TOO SEXY FOR MY CAR - TOO SEXY! And I do my little turn on the catwalk, yeah on the catwalk.

Hi. Good morning - howareya - what'sup in your world? Do you have a routine in the morning? Mine's boring - I have a cat awaiting at my door that thinks he's an NFL linebacker. Little bastard weaves in and outta my feet trying to get me to turn toward the food dish. How can they like that crap so much?

The cats once got that urinary tract infection and there's only one brand of cat food on the market that has lowered the magnesium - and they've eaten it for years and years now. That'd be like Burger King every morning and night. Don't get me wrong, I love their burgers - but you won't catch me trying to knock you down to start the day to go there, every day.

What else do ya do in the AM? Doesn't make sense to me we get allll that rest - then look in the mirror and it have it appear we've been beaten by a rubber mallet and have had our hair ironed on one side.

Bath or shower person? You go first - or does your mate? Juice? Gotta have juice? Breakfast is my favorite meal but I just don't do it often enough... Do you "sugar in the morning...sugar in the evening... sugar at suppertime"? You know, do you make whoopie in the AM? (Eww bedbreath.. Do you brush your teeth first?.. Put on deodorant?..)

I wonder, if you do make whoopie - after you've showered for the day - do you shower again?

Do you watch the same local TV channel daily because you secretly would like to hop in the sack with the anchor? Weatherperson? Uh huh, I KNEW it!

If you commute... Are you a gasup once a week kinda person - or- poor sum'bitch like me who cringes to put anything over $8 in there? I rationalize and say it allows me to trade idle chit chat with the convenience store folks - plus, I gotta have that cup of coffee.

Whew - getting kids outta bed for school - I don't miss those days... Are you like me in that - once your feet hit the floor - there's no stopping until work? Or, do you grab the paper, take some coffee swigs and gingerly start the day?

Hell - now that I'm single - almost all my time is my time.. I'm an early riser - back in the day when others slept here - I LOVED my time up alone while the other bastards slept. I looked at it as "they're wasting away their lives." They looked at it as "he's one crazy sum'bitch to be up so early."

Routine routine routine? Comfy with that? Do you do the same things daily? Ok, you want boring? Up. Turn TV on. Open bedroom door. Cat in feet. Pee. Turn on bathwater. Brush chops. Bathe. Dry off. Cat in feet. Throw on boxer-briefs (Good Lord.. who asked?) Screw you talkback, may my cat trip you some day.

Pants. Shirt. Cat in feet. Shoes. (Usually no socks) Grab all the junk (excepting the lint, other foreign objects) that came outta my pants pocket last night. Keys. Cigs. Turn TV off. Light off. Cat in feet (Really gettin' pissy by now).

Ok ok ok. Feed cats. Water in their bowl. Out door. Do the gas thing. Eat a bag of peanuts. Drink coffee. Shave. Yes, I shave on the way to work. Same GD radio channel daily. Same route. Boring. But I like it.

Except. I'm too sexy for my car, too sexy for my car - too sexy.. .and I do my little turn on the catwalk, yeah on the catwalk........

And you - you no commentin' sum'bitches - what's your routine? Come on - ya do something goofy every morning? Fill us in - we're sometimes bored here on the planet! Have a happy happy. Oh on the catwalk, on the catwalk.

Routinely yours, Victurd

Did I mention the car doesn't have AC?

So.... Last night, en route home after work... oh, 8:30-ish-pm.. I actually rolled UP the windows! (If by some fortune you've stumbled across this blog in the year 2017.. well... it's the summer of 2006 and there ain't been no letup. We've not seen 80 degree temps for a long, long time. Oh, and - ya dumbshit, there's gotta be bigger and brighter things to read in 2017, so scram.)

Wow, 2017. I'll be 65. Tain't that far away. The recent loss of Bill... My ex mother in law being pretty much incapacitated... It makes on think "hey... I've only got so much time here... I guess I need to do the things I want... and say the things I want before I wake up (or don't) one day and I can't..."

Your list? Me? Shit, I thought you'd never ask! I've always had the vision of traveling the US in some kinda vehicle I could sleep in... Perhaps working as I go.. Writing a journal that one day when I keel could be tossed out in the trash... Sure, sounds exotic to travel abroad - but, I'd rather see the USA in my Chevrolet. (Dinah still livin'? Man she had a wonderful personality. Still never figured out whointhehell was in the kitchen with her - but I know there was someone.)

Ahm, I'd like to be retired. I'd like to walk, any damn where I wanna walk. I'd like to hang out a kid's little league game - cause it brought so much joy to me over the years as both a child and a parent. I'd like to play golf - or one-on-one basketball with my buddy Sanford - like the old days...

I'd like to throw a big party in the country - inviting everyone I've ever spent over thirty minutes with.. I'd like to babysit Elisabeth Shue. (E-gads) Am-scray talkback - she is a hottie. And besides, she's got the babysittin' blues. (dah-da-da-da-duhn)

I'd like to have a hammock strung between two trees so far out that maybe even JC'd have a hard time a seein' me. I wanna enjoy the mountains again - but last time I was there they had a mandatory snowchain thing goin' on.. huh uh, gimme sunshine - minimum 50 degrees.

I wanna walk the Gulf... so far until I reach the point I'm so tired - I know I'd better turn around and walk back - and then enjoy the view as much the second time.

I'd liketa win the lottery - even a small one would work - so I could stay the hell outta casinos. I'd love it if my son and I had regular, long, motivated-by-nothing-other-than-to-converse conversations. I'd love to see the world better thru his eyes, and wish the same for him from mine. I'd love to be his best friend.

Ok, would it be a crime to say - by golly - I think I might enjoy a trip to the Chicken Ranch in Vegas? I'm not dying to do so - but I really think I'd get as much outta the conversation (I love to see inside people's brains) as I would the "you know." It'd be someone's daughter.. perhaps someone's mom.. or sister.. wouldn't condemn - but moreso would try to understand... I guess I'm too damn liberal.. if my sibling wanted to do that for a living - I'd want them to be happy.

Never done the DC thing - and would like to. Cruise ship - yes - but gimme a short one - not certain I could go without seeing trees for that long..

Gimme a president and Congress that would do all poss to simply make people happy. There's nothing better than seeing people happy. Employed people don't rob banks. Happy people don't use guns/knives on others.

I'd liketa be able to have only the cigarettes that really really taste good. (Versus -oops, my hands empty, better have another.) Speakinowhich - I'm probably boring the hell outta ya. Shit - you may sleep until 2017 after that one.

May your eyeballs see good things - may you rejoice in the happiness of a small child - and pray that he maintains that happiness and outlook forever and ever. May a good thing happen to you today - and - may you do a good thing for another. (Victor, that was sooo sappy.. why don't you get a collection plate and pass it from keyboard to keyboard.).. Oh yeah, I'd like to reseal the can that talkback jumped outta. Guess it's too late. Like "Chuckie's mom" said - "ya can't put him back in."

Sianara... Hasta la vista baby.. seeya later... afterwhile... muahhhhh!... by Henry Gibson. So long, farewell.. alright-already, I'm gone. Victurd.

Ya put the lime in the coconut you drink it all up....

Fun stuff to say.. I like that one.. Snotnose... rugrat... Number nine, number nine.. Buehler? Buehler?... I'm Archie Bell and the Drells from Houston, Texas and we don't only sing - but we dance just as good as we want..

Yeah... Gotta go to KMart... Gotta watch Wopner.. KMart sucks... I'm an excellent driver..

Do you have any grey poupon? Was a chicky here at work.. I tend to think I'm patient - give all a chance... This one had tremendous body odor.. and if that tweren't bad enough - she'd lean over you as you taught her things on the computer. Was very tough to type with my right hand as my left index finger and thumb clinched my nose... Anyways, after some little one to two minute teaching section she'd respond "Clear as mud." That shit pissed me off.. I think some are destined to not do well... Anyways, clear as mud AIN'T onea my favorite things to hear.

Hi. Hi is such a wonderful word. It acquaints America. It's not personal - it cheerful - and for most it's easy (oh but I know there are those who have difficulty with it..)

I DIG rock and roll music... Is this the real life, is this just fantasy
Caught in a landslide, no escape from reality... How are you doing?... May I help you?.. Was everything Ok?... Nice choice, they're on sale this week..

Good seeing you.. Nice talking to you... Enjoyed meeting you... You're very good at _____.. You look nice today... I like your... Blackjack.. Hi pops, how you doing... I've missed you.. Remember when we usedta....

Pizza pizza... Jane, you ignorant slut.. What's up?... Long time no see...
Look whaddya talk whaddya talk... She's got freckles on her but(t), she's pretty..

Worked with Fernando at the airport - his favorite line was "it's no my yob man".. so I've borrowed that time and time again. Especially when some lazy ass is trying to pawn of work they're supposed to do. It's fun and it teaches a lesson.

Good morning.
Oh the line forms -- on the right babe --- now that Jackie is back in town.. Instant Karmas gonna get you... The very beginning of any Rolling Stone song...

Ok.. today I typed whilst standing on my head. Seems I've had this frown plastered on my face for a week... So, thought - fuck it - I'll trick it into thinking it's a smile.

As I drove into work this morning I was semi excited (mind outta gutter all - not that type) to have computer access to lookup "lower right abdominal pain" cause my belly has been killin' me.. I typed in all my symptoms... First thing that popped up was ovarian cancer. Now I guess I see why doctors hate keyboards in the hands of patients.

So..... have a nice day.. may you hear all the fun words/sayings you've enjoyed over the course of a lifetime frequently. Happy happy, Victurd

That's life.....

From the boring world of Victurd...

Maynard's doing quite well actually. He's started job hunting before the money has run out. New start. Maybe that's all he needed.

Me? Eh, I'm almost ready to call "We buy ugly homes" - and get that part over with... I owe, I owe, it's off to work I go. I owe big time on October 1 - one year anniversary of divorce, someone's entitled to their portion of the equity. House too has 'checkengine-AC-garagedoor-roof-pool-light on'. I guess there's a pattern there.

I'm scared and excited about tomorrow. I don't know what I want today. I don't know where I'll be living in three months. I'd like someplace new - but I know I'd miss someplace old. I'd like same ole same ole town - but we only get so many opportunities in our lifetime. I'm the king of wishy-washy.

Sorry I've not been real attentive here - been working boo-koo hours. As in last night until almost 9pm. (Started at 8am.) Tis ok, extra bucks are nice.

I feel like a basketball coach again - and I need to rise and call a time out. Been a little ragged, things outta order. Time to recoup before I get further behind.

Don't you forget - tell those you love you love 'em. Tell those you miss you miss 'em. Tell those you admire you admire 'em. Hand out feel goods - they're like boomerangs. Happy day - Victurd.

Hey... turn right here down Pervert Lane....

My, my, my. To twist the words of Arlo a bit, you can get anything you want - on the internet restaurant... I do love 'country drives' where you take the mouse, search Google or Yahoo or some damn engine to find whatever it is you wanna find.

Today I typed "weird Human Records" - and up popped a site about Sexual Records.. Now honest -that wasn't my intent - but what the hey, we're all perked by sex - and I thought I'd take a little peek at what the site had to say.

80,000. That's the chick record. Ms. Julia the Elder (39BC - 14AD) - daughter of the Roman Emperor Augustus - "was beautiful, intelligent, highly educated and witty. Everything a woman might want was hers, save one: sexual satisfaction. Her loves numbered dozens, then hundreds, then beyond. "Half the virile youths of Rome". Still not satisfied, she began offering herself to every passing stranger, regardless of age, color or appearance. Hmmn, that's pretty damn horny.

THE Male. Anonymous. The rotten bastard wouldn't even leave his name - Alfred Kinsey reported one man who averaged 33.1 acts of coitus a week, over a 30 year period, almost 52,000 in all. Criminy, almost makes my nads hurt just thinkin' about that - but, what a way to go huh? 33.1? Point one? Howinthe... oh wait... I think I remember one time.... nevermind.

The Golds Gym sexual version? Yes, one form of "Chi Kung" is to strap weights to one's penis and do repetitive lifts. No kidding. "After the penis has been manually stimulated, barbells are then hooked onto a coat hanger-like apparatus which is tied around the base with a scarf. Beginners start out with two and a half pound weights - and the Hong Kong master named Mo Ka Wang lifted over 250 lbs - two feet off the floor. Damn daddy, that'sa strong penis. I will admit to using mine as a towel holder whilst I brushed my teeth, but I've never pumped iron with it.

Fourteen inches. I knew you chicks had been dying to know the answer. At least that's the record according to Dr. David Reuben in his book Everything You Always Wanted to Know About Sex.. The average penis size for a white male is 6.2 inches long - and yes "it's twue, it's really twue" the black male does average slightly larger at 6.3 inches (3.7 around for whitey, and 3.8 around for the brother.) Inhabiting the low end of the penile spectrum are those of Asian persuasian - averaging 5.5 inches. Oh, and FYI, I guess you're supposed to measure from the top.

Twas a lady somewhere who had 10 lactating boobies.. A feller with 154 lb testicles. Now THAT would take some kind of athletic supporter. People with multiple penis's, women with more than one vagina, humongous boobies, the tallest couple on record (she 7'8", he in excess of 7' as well) gave birth to the largest baby in history - weighing 26 lbs and 34 inches in length. The child did not make it thru childbirth - but supposedly there's a cast made - still on display at the Cleveland Museum of Health.

A 2 inch clitoris, 7 inch long labia, and if you're a butt man - and ya likes em big, venture to the Hottentot tribe of Africa where - in their most developed state - each buttock can be two or three feet across.

Mae West braggadociously holds the record for longest lovemaking... A pair of rattlesnakes made it for no less than 22.75 hours... Mosquitoes, which mate on the wing, perform a sex act that lasts only 2 seconds. I guess you unsatisfied women out there can use the "mosquitoe" line next time you are left panting. Exceeding even Wilt Chamberlain (who professed to over 20,000 lovers) the gerbil type called Shaw's has been observed copulating 224 times in a the space of 2 hours. I guess this too could be borrowed - "not tonight you GD gerbil."

1869 the first vibrator was invented (like the computer - the original version took up damn near an entire room, had some kinda hanging device the did the trick.) Some porn star named Houston holds the record for consecutive "lovers" (those ready and willing and in line with their $85 HIV tests) - she numbered 620 in a row. Holy crap, at this point, one would do me. Hehe.

Prior to Viagra, there was a surgery that could be done to insert two bendable, semi-rigid rods that are inserted in the penis through incision. When the situation demands, you just bend the wazoo into an upright position. Hehe, basically, a pipe cleaner. Pioneered in 1972, this means there are guys that have been walking around with boners for 34 years.

Royalty seemingly are perves. Damn near every record in there is by some kinda prince, king, queen... sumpin. Sharifian Emperor of Morroco, Mulai Ismail (1646-1727) is said to have fathered in excess of 1,000 children. Some chicky in Russia in the early 1700's gave birth to 69 children: 16 pairs of twins, seven sets of triplets and four sets of quads. Can you imagine laundry day? Christmas shopping?

Ok, enuff of the smut stuff. Have yourself a merry day. And.. whatthehell, go for a record if you wanna. love, Victurd.

Shirley Shirley bo Birley banana fanna fo Firley...

fee fi Mo Mirley... Shirley...

Let's do Martin... Nah, let's not... But let's do play the name game...

Little diddy, about John and Catherine.. two American kids doin' the best they can... Johnie say: "Hey Catherine let's run off behind a shady tree.. Dribble off those Bobby Brooks let me do what I please."

And if Catherine did... and they betrothed, she'd be Catherine Zeta Jones Cougar Mellencamp...

If Buddy Hackett awakened to being gay.. and he fell in love with Tim... He'd be called Buddy Bottoms... If they broke up and he fell for Earl (former Secretary of Agriculture) he'd become Buddy Butz... and if they had a falling out, and he hooked up with Albert Pujols (of baseball fame).. well, he'd be... (and if you don't know how to pronounce Albert's name, consider yourself lucky).... And YES, I know talkback, I've had a few beers, sorry.... If Buddy married Ned Beatty.. eh, nevermind...

If Pee Wee Herman and Michelle Wie hooked up, she'd be Pee Wee's Wie... which I don't think was the liquid they found in the movie house lobby that night.. If those lion/tiger magic guys bring their act back, I hear it's gonna be called Siegfried and Toy.

If Patti Page went for the bucks and married Ted, she'd be Patti Page Turner... If Paris Hilton married Dennis Franz, you think she'd move there? If Halle Berry married former KC Royal manager Tony, she'd be Halle Pena...

If Ali McGraw wedded Muhammad, she'd be Ali Ali... If there was no charge to attend their nuptials, it'd be Ali Ali in free...

If Zsa Zsa was smitten over Butros, she'd become Zsa Zsa Butros Butros Gabor Ghali...

If Paula married Kareem, and she wouldn't stop talking, she'd be Paula Abdul Abdul Jabar Jabber...

If Tyne Daly went after Ben's money, she'd be Tyne Stein.... If Bo Derek married the athlete, she'd be Bo Jackson... If Pee Wee married Pia Zadora... no, that ain't it either...

If Dolly married Bono, would she be Parton U2? If she married Lester Flatt would it ruin her "schtick" and she'd have to work 9 to 5? If she married Max Baer would she sell more tickets? If Demi betrothed George, would she be Demi Strait? If Buddy Hackett married Joan Hackett.. .eh, never mind...

If Julie Hagerty married Dan Hagerty, would their kid's last name be Adams? If Patti married the Duke of Earl and they hada offspring, would he be the Duke-Duke-Duke, Duke of Earl? If Chelsea Clinton had a baby brother, would you willingly accept a cigar from proud papa?

If Sandy married Gregory, would they serve their own cake at the wedding? (Duncan Hines)... If Nell Campbell married Archie Bell and the Drells from Houston, Texas we don't only sing but we dance just as good as we walk - would she be Nelly Bell?

If Ricky Lake married River Phoenix, would it flood Scottsdale?

If Kathy Bates married Alan Bates, where would Norman live? If Glen Close married the shaving cream magnate, would she become Glen Close Burma Shave? If Ms. Babilonia married Don, would she be Tai Knotts?

If Janet Reno married Jean Reno, then we'd all have been wrong. Is it legal to be named Peter Sellers? If Aubrey Dollar married the rapper Curtis Jackson, would she be Aubrey Dollar 50 cent?

(Victurd, go to bed)... Yes talkback, for once, I think you're right...

Arnold arnold bo Barnold, banana fanna fo Farnold... Love, Victurd

The Baldknobbers, The Pressleys, Shoji.. and Maynard...

God bless the kid... He's ventured to Branson for a "new start." A buddy of his - his mother lives there... they both went.. they're going to do the "extended stay" at one of the cruddy motels there (hey, it's only $400 plus a month and it includes all utilities, pool, I think continental breakfast... a start.)

We'll see how it turns out - but I'm tickled he's simply getting outta the house..

Oh.. the car... Well, yes, the checkenginelight stayed on the entire trip.. of course the air is kapooey... we traversed Highway 76 to their motel.. for those of you that have never traversed 76 - traffic moves about as fast as a Sunday Sermon when you have a hangover... Got behind some do-gooder who let everyone and their brother pull out from whatever cruddy tourist trap thingy they were trying to get out on to 76... 100 degrees.. ."Sure, let s'more in... who needed a shower? I'm getting one as we sit."

So...... drop Maynard, friend off at motel.. I go to WalMart to buy them goodies - roughly three miles ("Forty-five minutes" in '76-talk) back the other way. Uh huh, who do I get behind? Mr. East bound do-gooder. Nomme.. when I see onea them assholes trying to creep out onto 76 - I inch up on the bumper infronta me so close there ain't room for an ant on their bumper.

Buy a mini-fridge, a microwave, some groceries, a bicycle (they don't have wheels yet) - and, what the hey, I won Friday at the casino.. so it was cool.. (I'd prepared for our trip to Andy Williams-land by walking in from the casino at 4:30am Saturday morning.. and we left at 10am... My eyeballs were like bee-bee's.. and I took brief naps on highway's 435, 71, 7, 13, 44 & 65 en route. Ok, teasing about the last part..

So... I fetch all this crap back to Maynard.. He's appreciative.. I begged and pleaded to myself not to lecture about life in Branson - and thankfully he willingly approached me with "Dad... I'll be good." All I needed to hear. Way cool.

So...... Jumped back on the highway... Pupils were dilated the size of a needle head now.. Took a brief siesta in Bolivar, MO under the canopy of a closed down gas station that was being remodeled into some kinda retail joint... Officer Dalyrimple of the Bolivar Police Department scared the holy shit outta me with his rat-a-tat-tat on my car window somewhere during my early REM's... He understood... and whisked me along the way...

So.... traveling North on Highway 13. Abouta 40 minutes until I turn due West on 7.. Remember, checkenginelight on, air kapoot, brake light now off - I think it's burnt out.. my nads were startled with unexpected arrival of my visor that'd fallen off and come to visit them.. Yes. My sun visor fell off. No screws to be found (I'd taken my shoe off and felt around on the floor.) So, I dealt with it. I was as happy as Steve Martin the new phone books were here - I grabbed the local one (still in plastic) quickly opened my door - placed it in where my sunvisor woulda been had I had it blocking on the driver's side - and slammed the door shut. Worked. Haha.

Until I head West on 7. Shit. I'm damn near Albino anyways - and I GOTS to wear shades any time I'm in the sun. If Elisabeth Shoe woulda been laying nekkid in the middle o Hwy 7 - there's no way in hell I woulda seen her. The sun is within a hairlash of the horizon, but still all big'n'full. The phone book won't fit 'tween the headliner and the windshield.. gotta find something thinner.. I maneuver to the glovebox.. Aha, this'll work.. It's my proof of County Taxes Paid sheet from 2003. YES, 2003. Screw you. Do you really expect me to believe you've had a moment where you've said to yourself "I know.. I think I'll go clean out my glovebox."???

It worked... mostly... I did come within inches of obliterating an Amish couple on horse-buggy... wheels just over into the right lane of the highway. I computed they were doing exactly 67 miles per hour less than I was. Had I hit 'em, I know they don't like electricity and all that shit.. do you think if the EMT woulda tried to jump in on the wife laying on the sidea the road with a defibrillator and announced "CLEAR!!!!" the feller woulda said "WAIT, THAT'S ELECTRIC.. .NOOOOOOOOO!"

I love my son. I hope he's happy. Many have given up on him - and unfortunately, many of those are close, real close. I ain't, and I won't. There's good in that heart.

That was pretty much the excitement of my trip. Oh, 'less'n you wanna count the sign by the bigass fielda corn that said "Corn population study." Now I could see that shit in Dyersville, IA (you know, the Field of Dreams.) But WTF are they actually doing? Going thru the 1,000 plus acres row by row and counting? I guess there just ain't much excitement in Creighton, Missouri. Maybe that 'xplains it.

Happy day. And don't forget - I've got my eye on you dammit. Git urass moving and contacting people that usedta be in your life more - ain't now - but if tomorrow were the day they were to pass - YOU WOULDN'T BE ABLE TO TELL THEM WHAT THEY MEANT TO YOU. I mean that. Do it!.. .Love, Victurd.

What on earth could we learn from you Victurd?

Hi.. This is talkback... And no, I'm not here to retort his clumsy excuse of a description of me previously (but I will admit I was perked about the part where he said "I know I can do right" and attributed that to my wise, wise offerings of exactly how to live life...

I come to you today because he's tugging at my pants leg... ready to burst about something... Saying "I learned something today... and I want to share so others don't make the same mistake."

My mind thinks: Hmmnnn... you, the one who's butchered up your life... the one who's house has suffered from your own neglect... the one whose son has got one wheel off the track and you are unable to synchronize him.. the "occupationally challenged" one... the one whose car is uncertain to make it to the next fillup.. (Ok, scratch that.. uncertain to make it to it's next $8 "fill up"...)

The one who sits frequently at the blackjack table that is sloped toward the dealer - where if you leggo of your chip - it automatically rolls into the house's stash..

YES ME DAMMIT. This is a recording: Screw you talkback. Today I can teach.

You see, today I balled my eyes out. Today I saw buddies I hadn't seen in 30 years - some of whom it took me a moment to even recognize.. Today a buddy was buried - a GOOD buddy.. a GREAT man..

My friend Bill died on the operating table July 31st at age 54. This guy was a high school classmate... a college fraternity brother... a close, close friend. Bill went on the teach/coach and become athletic director at a nearby community for 29 years...

He was a large man - in more ways than one... He wanted things done - and he wanted them done right. He was a linguist. He talked with his body motions. His eyes/mouth communicated without having to use words.. He propelled the weak to be good, the mediocre to achieve, and the very good to greatness.

He genuinely cared about others. Rare nowadays. I know someone with whom I talk on the phone - and after hanging up I think to myself "this person didn't ask one thing about me... doesn't know any more about me than before we started the conversation."

Not Bill. Bill's interest was ALWAYS in you. About you. For you. While he was a peer in age - I carried the respect of not wanting to disappoint him. He had that affect on thousands. The overflow crowd, after filling up the choir chairs, standing alongside and behind the congregation - spilled into the lobby where people sat in chairs to listen.

It was quite a tribute - and to such a deserving man. (Ok, Ok.. Very good.. and he does sound very admirable... but you still haven't gotten to the teaching point yet.)

Right you are this time talkback. I hadn't made the effort to go see Bill in a few years. Now I can't. Bill touched me. Bill and I had fun. Bill and I were, upon occasion, wild children. Now I can never (on earth) converse with Bill again.

If there is someone in your life who has touched you - whom you just enjoy being around - even if you haven't talked to them in years - pppppplease make a point to - now.

Honest to goodness I'm compiling a list. I have fodder for the future. I'm excited about contacting those that once shared our lives - again. Even in passing, Bill taught.

Bill, I wish I coulda toldya in person how much I liked you. I only wish you knew how much fun I had every time I heard that "HI VIC!"... I wish you only knew how much I appreciated you calling me a "half-stepper" when I knowingly had taken the wrong course on one of life's events.

In tribute to you my brother... the creed of our fraternity. You lived it to the inth: To believe in the live of love, to walk in the way of honor, to serve in the light of truth, this is the life, the light, the way of Sigma Nu.

Hi Rickety friend.