I had a dream......

Ringggggg... Ringgggg.... Ringgggg...

"Hi... ahm this is Vic... I'm feeling kinda under the weather... I'm gonna go ahead and use all the resta my sick days, and all the resta my vacation, and then I'll take WOP until 2007... k?"

Get-chur motor runnin'... head out on the highway... looking for adventure.. and whatever comes my way... Yeah Darlin' go make it happen...Take the world in a love embrace... Fire all of your guns at once.. And explode into space..

I'll swing by my shade tree mechanic first - justa make sure this 195,000 mile piecea fine metal will make the trip... Then... I'll buy and open a 20 lb bag of cat food... along with a small wading pool for their water.. Heap big purchase of kitty litter... and... I mights go ask this one person to go wit' me...

Then, I'll take the $217.42 outta savings... (hell, life is good, gas is down)... and we'll roll...

Niagara Falls (inch by inch, step by step)... Cooperstown... the four dead guys in granite... the Grand Canyon.. (I know, this ain't exactly geographically in order)... Vegas... Highway 101... Seattle - then maybe the ferry over to Victoria... then the opposite kinda thing - San Diego over to Tijuana...

I ain't no prognosticator - but there's change in the air... The cats feel it (them sum-bitches get REAL fiesty - dash off to nowhere with absolutely no reason).. I feel it... The rollercoaster of life has eh, been on that tedious, slow climb back to the top - and that pent up - revved up - GOD I CAN'T WAIT exhilaration is near.. I feel it...

I didn't plan life this way - but I'm gonna suckup every ounce of it... One part of teaching I absolutely loved... I taught elementary PE... When those first graders would walk in.. in their nifty little straight line.. the smiles on their faces - sure - those were wonderful.. but it was the eyes.. the bright, wonderful, anticipation of "what's next?" - it melted me...

I wanna live the resta my life with first grade eyeballs... Whether you are comfy with the same thing every day... whether you enjoy change.. or.. are forced into change... may you have first grade eyeballs too.. May you're "what's next?" be wonderful...

Like a true nature's child... We were born, born to be wild... We can climb so high
I never wanna die... Born to be wild.... Born to be wild...

Happy day, Victurd

Buddy canya spare a dime? SAVE VICTURD

"Hello... Mortgage Company?.... Yeah, it's me... Vic... I was wondering if you could loan me... ohhhh $90, mebbe $100 thou on a 30-year fixed so I can pay off my loan balance and then give whatshername her portion of the equity?"

Well sir... I've been reading your blog. I understand you have - what'd you say? Sixteen years left on the planet? And.. while you don't have a car payment right now - I've read about that piece of crap you drive...

"Ahm... well.. that was this one site.. their opinion... but truthfully, I think I'm good for another thirty... gimme that thirty year fixed...please. And checkenginelight? Why, at 195,000 miles, it purrs like a kitten. It's good thru 2008, trust me."

As I was recently reminded, I signed an affidavit, to pay this portion by Sunday, October 1, 2006. (Funny how, in life, one makes the transition from "till death do us part" to "remember, YOU signed an affidavit." Hehe.) Ahm, my appointment with the loan company is this morning. Then I gotta get an appraiser out... Then the money guy has to take everything back to his money guy... Shit, I ain't gonna make October 1. I am trying. (She'd shit if she knew I was writing this - VERY private. Nomme - I'm like "hey, it's life - fuck 'em if they can't take a joke - I happen to love each and every hairpin turn life throws at us.")

I wonder if today's jails are equipped with high speed internet access for the prisoners... Is there sucha thing as "seconds" at dinner time?... Can I bring my own soap-on-a-rope so Buster doesn't fancy me should I drop mine?... Excuse me, does this Monopoly "Get outta Jail free" card work here?... I wouldn't have to miss Grey's Anatomy would I?... Do we get beer and hot dogs on Chief's game day?.. Do they have salted peanuts and if so can I use my debit card?

If Mr. Mortgage lender says "HAHAHA.. you have fucking GOT to be kidding." Can I spare a dime? Would you assist me in going door to door nationwide - asking folks to tip over their sofa's - to gimme spare change they didn't even realize they had?
Could we open every unlocked car in every mall in America - plunge our hands under the seat for any dimes, nickels, quarters that mighta fallen thru? That wouldn't really be stealin' would it?

Could we go to every Corner Bar in America - enlist "ain't recently shaved" friends to stand on America's corners with "Homeless" cardboard signs - mebbe promisin' 'em 50% of the take? I mean, I signed that affidavit, I really could be homeless so we wouldn't be lyin.

I lived in Jeff City once (Hell, I won a hula hoop contest on the State Capitol steps - true story). When I owned the mom & pop delivery company I delivered a package to Leavenworth.. I've played golf in Cameron. Shit. I don't wanna live at any o' them places. $ave Victurd. Please, let'$ $tart the campaign today.

The warden threw a party in the county jail -The prisonband was there and they began to wail - The joint was jumping and the place began to swing -You should have heard those knocked out jailbirds sing...

Let's rock
Everybody let's rock
Everybody on the whole cell block
They was dancing to the jailhouse rock

Please phone in your Save Victurd contributions to 1-800-555-1212. Affidavitly yours, Victurd.

Bite me......

This morning - as I strolled in for my daily gas station stop for coffee, cigs and salted peanuts - was met by a friend who was fueling her car up for her commute... "Boy... you look wiped out... you're gonna have to stop working so many hours."

I hate when that shit happens. WHY do people meet you and say "wow - you look tired"? Tis even skeerier when one is an old fart like me 'cause them crevices, they don't exactly revert back to 20-something form after 9 hours of sleep like all you young punks. So I thanked her. "Thanks bebbe.. you got my motor revvin' now.. I'm psyched for the day.. .thanks for that "PUMP - YOU UP" moment." Bitch. What I really wanted to say was "GD I'm 53, almost 54... I'm tired... and yes, I had three beers last night.. and oh, btw, what happened to you - crocodile skin?.. couldn't get the tanning bed door unlocked?" Instead I cowered with -"good seein' ya.. have a good day." Wimp, I'ma wimp.

I gotta sign on my wall at work - says "The real art of conversation is not only to say the right thing at the right place but to leave unsaid the wrong thing at the tempting moment." I likes that.

Ohhh of course there's times I'd loveta join the fray... like mebbe "hi, howya doin? Is your wife still doinking that one guy at the office?"... or... "I heard your main man actually took out the trash last week... that warranted a blow job eh?"

Howabout "MAN, I'd hate to have your grocery bill."... Or "can I ask.. do you actually smile on holidays?... during sex?"... Or... "WHAT? No bruises? You're gonna have to tell your man he's slipping some."... And it didn't take 'em long to decide that Earl had to die...


"Hey you... do you bitch in your dreams too?"... "Holy shit, was the power out at your house when you dressed this morning?"...

Or I guess one could use it for compliments too... "Hi there.. I noticed something walking behind you this morning. Ahm.. do you find doggy style enjoyable?".. or, "I heard Ernie is away at a convention.. anything I can help with around the house?".. or "I'm starting a coed naked volleyball league... would you have interest in playing in my first one on one tournament?"

The lady this morning, really she's a nice lady. I guess there was genuine concern there.. Yet there are some dweezels out here in life though that just don't know when to shut up - or better yet, they don't know "what NOT to say."

Life would be interesting if we could/did say the tempting thing - - but I guess we'll have to reserve that shit for a blog or something. I mean, just when I wanted to wing out "would you have a moment I could see your tits - I've oh so admired 'em over the years" she came with that "wiped out" crap. Dammit. I hate when that happens.

I think I'm gonna take a short nap now. Feeling kinda wiped out. May you have fun with the said, and the unsaid word. Next time you see someone a little outta kilter - have fun inside your brain with the tempted word. Oh, and you left your cam on.. Damn. If I were you, I'd hit the snooze button 5 or 6 more times. Love, Victurd.

Hey... thanks for coming... stick around and have a beer after...

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

GD it Lorena... QUICK!!!!! PLEASE call Dr. Hu

((Chinese surgeons have performed the world's first penis transplant on a man whose organ was damaged beyond repair in an accident this year. The incident left the man with a 1cm-long stump with which he was unable to urinate or have sexual intercourse. "His quality of life was affected severely," said Dr Weilie Hu, a surgeon at Guangzhou General Hospital.))

Ahm, yes, I would say that might tend to affect one..(or is it effect, I always get those two confused.. in this case, me thinks both would work) .. For you non-metric folks like me, 1 cm = .39 inches. Ouch. I wonder if Mini-me has a sister.
Continuing:

((Doctors spent 15 hours attaching a 10cm penis to the 44-year-old patient after the parents of a brain-dead man half his age agreed to donate their son's organ.))
Again, doing the conversion, this is 3.93 inches.. almost up to the Oriental average [not meant meanly, just got that from some research I'd read during an earlier study.]

((The surgical team claims the operation was a success. After 10 days, tests revealed the organ had a rich blood supply and the man was able to urinate normally.
Doctors have previously succeeded in reuniting men with their sexual organs after traumatic accidents or attacks, but the Guangzhou operation is the first in which a donor penis has successfully been attached to another man.

Although the operation was a surgical success, surgeons said they had to remove the penis two weeks later. "Because of a severe psychological problem of the recipient and his wife, the transplanted penis regretfully had to be cut off," Dr Hu said. An examination of the organ showed no signs of it being rejected by the body.))

Poor fella. Hell, I've had my pee pee since I was born... and I've had wife rejection problems too.. I kinda know how he feels. And what's wrong with that lady anyways?... She could stay married AND have the grass is greener shit too.
Geez..

Imagine the potential though... We men who are dissatisfied with the size/length/prowess.. I mean.. ahem.. men who are dissatisfied with the size/length/prowess.. could like move to Italy in hopes of getting a nice,long, Italian sausage (or so we've heard they are from you chickies). .or.. mebbe could get put on the list for a nice 'brother' pee pee. Men might cut their own off in hopes of getting a bigger, thicker, longer, better model. Gives a whole new meaning to "tally-whacker."

Heck... I'd sign a donor card... I mean what the hey... why not be in heaven (or hell) and still get tingles.. and still be getting some down (or up) on earth.. Mine might even be desired in Asia.. Hell, it'd be a kick, I've never thought of mine as a Whopper.. hehe.. I would hope the recipient would be kinda picky though... Been there, almost did that "girls all get prettier at closing time" thingy.

Imagine the possibilities though: The people in the recovery room would be known as Chinese Checkers... If you weren't picky about size, girth, length etc, you could go to the Chinese Buffet Penis Transplant Hospital..

They could even capitalize on the Chinese New Year... I mean who wouldn't want a new pecker during the Year of the Dragon... Snake... Horse... Ox... (Me thinks I'd stay away though during the Year of the Rooster.. Rat... Rabbit.. Sheep...)

Imagine the Entreprenuerships: Pekings Peckers... Shang's Hangers... Ginger's Roots... Long Dong's Noodles... Confucius say "have it your way"...Dongs by Rick Shaw... Hop Sing's Dingers... Downtown Square Roots...

Ok.... I guess I'd better go back to work. If you're happy with your own pecker, give it a little pat on the head... If not.. Please call Dr. Hu.
Bayi... Victurd

Not a creature was stirring... not even my mouse...

Hello darkness my old friend... I've come to talk to you again...

Ya know, sometimes I just don't feel like writin'... I have a favorite saying at work that I repeat almost weekly "this is the FIRST time since I started working here that I didn't want to be here." Correct that. Writing, to me, is like talking. If ya ain't got nothing to contribute - then shut the hell up. So, pardon me if this crap is blazee' - but I kinda feel like onea Pavlov's dogs today.. it's 6:30am, I must write.. right?

No, this blog stuff ain't a drag at all... I love it.. It's just that I can't seem to find a topic in the gray matter... Oh, there's some good shit going on - first female tourist in space (I see curtains on the windows... weightlessness sex? We have liftoff!)... They're mad at the Pope... Conjoined twins are now unjoined... Five Duquesne University basketball players shot...

I could talk about high-fiving my buddies after the KU Chickenhawks squandered opportunity after opportunity in overtime and eventually bit the dust to the Toledo Rockets (<-- who??)... MU kickin' booty... Nah, spent on sports.

Rainy days and Mondays don't get me down - but I needs me an impetus here. I was passionite yesterday - I hate prejudice - I truly do. I did go see my favorite band this weekend.. the little gal singer rocks - and she was rockin' so hard that her hair completely blocked her face --- I wonder what that feels like --- to stand infronta a crowd - spilling your vocal guts for all --... I know from when I LISTEN to music it can be an awesome body feeling --- to make the music - and to do so with sucha passion -- it's simply GOT to be a rush. (If I were ever reincarnated, I'd like to be David Ruffin and be the Temptations lead singer.)

Ok... I'm steppin' out. I'm UP, but I ain't creative - and talkback before you say "who ever said you were creative?" - I'm talking ATTEMPT to be creative... Got it?

Peace out... Hasta la vista... Mahalo... May your mundane Mondays still be special... Keep your eyes and ears open - you never know when something will happen that you will remember all of your life. Love, Mundane-Monday-Victurd

A cure for the race?

I know, that’s bassackwards – but it is today’s topic – right here in black and white… or, mebbe black-yellow-and-blue as the case may be.

Me thinks, had I been black – I’d be dead by now. THANK GOD for the Martin Luther King types. THANK GOD for the Buck O’Neill’s of the world… They do/did it peacefully – with a smile – with the love of God – and it hasn’t been an overnight kinda thing... It’s a journey, still ongoing.

Had I made it to the NBA, it’d been quite a story… I usedta dribble my basketball six blocks to the old Catholic Elementary School… it was ‘tween where I lived and “The North End” where blacks were “sequestered”. There was harmony there – we were friends – we enjoyed the sport – we laughed – we played – sure, we fought – and yes, sometimes it was a white against a black – but it was also a white agin’ a white and a black agin’ a black. Race meant nothing to us – and this was in the 60’s.

Repeating from an earlier blog (sorry to make you read twice… sorry to make you read twice.. hehe) – this one about my father’s friends:

****(Burt McGinness... the feller, who happened to be black, was a trash hauler in town. Burt, by his late 60's, early 70's fell victim to the progression of our fine city - and the new idea "We have too many independent haulers... we need just one... so we'll have a bid... and the winner will get the contract of the entire city." So, stacked up against the State Senator's company, doest thou think Burt had a chance? Of course not.

For years my father paid the mandatory contractual rate to the city for "State Senator's Trash Company" AND, paid Burt to continue to swing by and grab his trash. Burt's face never knew a frown - and the pace of his step screamed out 'happy.' Imagine that, a man who couldn't pee, sleep, eat, swim at the same places many could for so many years HAPPY? How dare he!

Well he was.... I will never forget dad leaving a cool six-pack on top of the week's trash... or a ten-dollar bill... Where we lived had the coldest waterspout in the town. Burt would always jump out of his truck (Jump being the key/true word at age 73) and run up to the garden hose to get that "coldest drink of water in town." Dad would hustle to the back step and yell "HEYYYYYY, I TOLD you we don't like YOUR KIND around here!"... Burt could do nothing but smile - and stick around for a 45 minute conversation about life in general with dad.)*****

I shared that blog story with a new friend of mine – Shelton – who, yes, also happens to be a black man… His wonderful reply about Burt’s ability to smile was “It was easy for Mr Burt to smile because God had given him grace to smile. I can still see him smiling and talking, just as I can many of the other giants in my life.” NO NO NO… THAT AIN’T RIGHT. FUCK those people who made me sit in the balcony at the Plaza Theater… FUCK those people who wouldn’t let me eat in their stinkin’ restaurants.. FUCK the hotel/motel owners for making me sleep in my car… FUCK you Courthouse people for making me pee/poop in “Colored Men’s Restroom.” See… I’da never made it. I guess there’s a reason I’m white.

This today is written to ask for prayers for Buck O’Neill. He’s 94, almost 95.. His once booming baritone voice has been reduced to whispers of late. He’s tired. He’s old. They say he doesn’t have anything terminal – yet – like Maynard and the Davy Crockett movie – it’s my hope Buck lives on forever and ever and ever. He’s been running since the day he was able to walk. He’s a living legend. You’ll NEVER get that smile to come off his face, huh uh. To refresh, Buck is the man who played and managed in the Negro Leagues – never got the chance to play or manage in the Big Leagues – yet, the title of his book is “I was right on time.” The man has the most infectious smile I’ve ever seen in my life. He amazed Ken Burns. Letterman fell in love with him.. I couldn’t be Buck. NO NO NO.. FUCK YOU ALL, I can hit better than any of those whities.. I can run like the wind – you’d NEVER throw me out at 2nd base. Again, perhaps there’s a reason God made me white. Mr. Buck – I bow to you. I learn from you. I admire you. I’m amazed by you. I try to emulate you. Godspeed sir. (For a wonderful read, about a wonderful man... copy, paste and go to http://www.kansascity.com/mld/kansascity/sports/15537586.htm

I’m not proud of this “attribute?” of my white ancestry. Yes, we’ve still a ways to go. May future generations never discriminate, or be discriminated against. Buck, Martin, Burt, Shelton – you’ve led the way for the cure for the races. You simply demonstrated to us it was never a sickness to begin with. Why can’t we be friends… why can’t we be friends.. Red and yellow and pink and green… purple and orange and blue… I can sing a rainbow…. one Nation under God, indivisible,
With Liberty and Justice for all. Let’s join hands… Happy day, Victurd.

Blue 88... Blue 88... SET... HUT.. HUT

Al Bundy, sideline High School football reporter here. (Oh shit, another sport's column... seeya next week.) Yeah, I know. Whilst it seems the only folks occasionally swinging by here are chickies - this ain't perhaps the best road to go down --- but then again, I know you're all Chiefs or Rams fans -- which is fancy for "GD did you see how tight that #88's ass looks in those pants?"... so... I'll go down it...

A week ago, I went to the biggest hyped game in the Kansas City football scene since.. well, whenever the last biggest hyped game was. Home team had a winning streak of 29 games, my own "God's Country" team tweren't bad themselves - and simply because enrollment-wise it's the biggest damn school in the state -- figured to be a good game.. and it was...

I'm more perked by the idiosyncrasies of it all... Like.. Julie calling Tammie from the ticket line to see where she's sitting. Like old farts from my hometown actually tailgating - they hadta get there hours in advance to park where they parked.. Like a kabillion dollars spent on athletic logo'd sportswear showing one's team pride...

Like a two year old who'd rather be behind the bleachers piddling in the dirt dressed as a team cheerleader, pom poms, team braids and all... Like Billy (sitting on the 30 yard line) calling Tommy (On the opposite 40 yd line)when a hot chicky walked by...

Like the Goth chicks. Johnny Cash - but with a creepy, spooky attitude to 'em.. Like the guy with the Mohawk - but it wasn't an ordinary Mohawk.. it had seven, count 'em, seven long cone-like thingys that pointed skyward minimally 7" long each..

Like the dad who stood up when his kid was hit in the back by the opponent "GET HIM BACK JOHNNY!!! GET HIM BACK!".... Oh there was the typical "YOU SUCK REF".. .and "OVER-RATED da da duh duh duh.. OVER-RATED"...

And.. the typical little snotnose shits who brought their own Nerf football - had their own game just beyond the end zone - and were oblivious as to why they were there.. There was the TV crew broadcasting the game... the announced introduction ("stand up and wave") of onea the local regular Sport's Anchors in the stands.. the traffic copter that doubles as the High School Football Report on weekends wisking in and out in what seemed like 8 minutes... (Hell, I've had sex longer than that -- but yeah, it's probably been awhile!)

Mebbe 15% of the people watch the game... It's more an event.. I mean really, unless your team happens to go 11-0, travel on to Columbia or St. Louie for the State Championship - who remembers this shit? People go because people are bored - it's an organized event - "they're going, I will too then" - and it's a social thingy.

Alan scores a touchdown, but he see's Suzie in the stands flirting with Dominique. Alan's pissed, but after the game they make amends - doink in the backa his '84 Cutlass - and two years later Suzie's folks are raising the kid whilst she goes to the local junior college -- and Alan is a mechanic in the adjoining town and has forgotten what Suzie (or his kid) looks like. Meanwhile, Dominique has started some dot.com thing, and spends winters in Palm Springs.. It happens everywhere in America.

The goody goods get together - MAYBE French Kiss at the prom - marry after graduating from college - then 20 years later he's convicted of being a pedophile and she's charged with embezzling monies from the Church Scholarship fund..

Stars from yesterday who now languish in menial jobs - come back so maybe, just maybe someone can look at them, recognize, and say "wow Billy.. you were awesome that one night... now what year was it you played... and what are you doing now?"..

Parents, grandparents, local-yocals, very-very obnoxious PA announcers, Uncle Ronnie on the chains - dying for a halftime cig... It's America... It's high school football...

I saw bullies. I saw folks dressed to draw attention to themselves (one had like three red light thingys on his shirt that lit up). I saw a thirteen year old (another Mohawk - this one the more traditional variety) in his T-Shirt announcing "I LOVE HOT MOMS".. hehe.. I shit you not, that's what it said. Can'tya just see him leaving home that night? "Here Irwin, wear this one, it's clean." The hell is that mom thinkin? Startin' them MILF lovers awful young nowadays.

I saw folks having a good time. I saw kids with boundless energy expending it. I saw relationships in the making. I saw divorced parents. Longtime married parents, longtime married grandparents. I saw loners (that was when I was driving home - I peeked in the rear view mirror - it was ME!)... Yes, I saw some nice looking women (GD I'm only human)...

I saw cheerleaders being tossed 17' in the air and I wondered "why?". I saw an injured player being semi-carried off -- only to return 100% AOK the next quarter 'cause the attention from the wound had worn off..

It was a great time... it was Americana... My hometown team did stop their 29 game winning streak.. but if you ask me in February - I won't remember what team it was they played.. Whilst our soldliers sleep in digouts in the sand.. Whilst children in Africa lay awake for fear of being mauled by a dangerous animal... Whilst the homeless man scrounges through the dumpster seeking a bedtime snack... Whilst the Alaskans are saying "GD I hate this six-month dark shit"... I was having a blast.. I'm thankful ole Lord... I really am..

Punt bad thoughts... Kick mean people in the teeth... Make a pass at a hotty you see... Put your hands on someone's butt when they bend over (hell.. the QB does it and nothing happens to him)... Throw a flag at work the next time that lady in accounting bitches and moans.. Score a touchdown with your significant other (Smooch after for the extra point --- or whatthehell, wait a few minutes and go for two.) Never forget....... I - ME - played high school football.
Love, AlBundyVicturd...

Oh I wonder wonder wonder wonder WHO.....

This summary is not available. Please click here to view the post.

Sad existence?

Band camp (not really) a few years back – found myself in a bar with my cousin, somea his friends… can’t remember the function – I think a bachelor party mebbe… walking out – onea his friends remarked “wow… can you believe all the sad existences in there?”

Nuther band camp… I remember going to the local bar with onea the ex’s… Returning home I remarked something like “ya know… ya go in there… sporadically like we do and it’s the same people every time ya go… all these years… kinda sad.” I hope she’s not reading this – for I ain’t really in the mood to commend her (some non-actions of late) but she said…”eh… I dunno… that they’ve maintained friendships all these years… kinda weekly celebrate… I think it’s kinda a neat thing.”

Band camp last night… My sad existence included: tossing down a few with the fellas to watch the Royals win… going to the juke box… picking out “Ain’t too proud to beg” (OH that song runs thru me… not the words… the beat.. the rhythm.. the upbeatedness… it’s the CHILL of Big Chill..) and of course Chantilly Lace (“Grandpa music” one snotnose college kid referred to it as).. Talking to each of my ex-sister-in-laws for over an hour… reliving fun times past…
Visiting with two of my high school runnin’ buddies – planning a trip to Columbia for the MU-KU game… I guess that makes for a sad, sad existence. (Victor, you’re trying to justify acting like an idiot… shirking responsibility).. NOT SO… I fed the damn cats… I sat the trash out for the day… What else do I gotta do?

I worked until 7:50pm… I was a sad existence from 8:20pm until 10:10pm.. in bed, watched the news… very heavy sawing of logs until 5:30 alarm…

Tonight.. honest… I’m gonna clean my damn kitchen… Done did the living room, bathroom, bedroom, kid’s room… been avoiding/dreading the kitchen… Now it’s really a sad existence.. I’m reminded of my pa in his later years… Didn’t get out too much.. Entertainment was the History Channel (which he loved immensely)… The cats, whilst they do yap, ain’t really much for conversation… Close your ears – there’s been nights I go to WalMart just to see other/real human beings. Hmmm.. I know that at least the Greeter will say “howdy.”

Senorita Catom... I remember (an earlier Band Camp discussion) you speaking of your ex.. his life... how it becomes 'tired'... I hear ya.. I understand... but - I also ask... if it's the life he enjoys (and again I understand it's one you don't wanna partake similarly) - and as long as he doesn't do harm to anyone.. is it ok if he chooses to live like that? (Victor, you're justifying again...) Well talkback, I guess you could say that... but I know too that when I laugh.. when I feel... when I look forward to doing something - as long as I'm not hurting anyone - I think it's an Ok kinda thing. Straighten me out there Catom! (Don't be afraid to "Jane, you ignorant slut" me!)

So…. In retrospect Friday – I guess I will have to deem which night (Wednesday or Thursday) was the sadder existence..

Somehow, me thinks I know which will win out… Love, the Big Bopper ‘turd…

The afternoon of life....

Holy Shit Sherlock... was intrigued by an article yesterday in the paper about life expectancy... they ranked - in order - by state how long folks lived.. Shit.. We Missourians ranked 38th (with #1 being the longest living) with an average lifespan of 75.9 years...

Then I piddled on Yahoo seaching for more statistics... I was excited to learn the combined average (male, female, black, white, other) for life expectancy is 77.9 years. Reading the fine print (I fucking HATE fine print - especially at age 53) I learned that number is if you were born today. Shit. We of the 1950's - the guys are expected to hang around until age 66.5 and you hens until 72.2... Shit...

Then I went to some website where you entered all kindsa things about your family health history, lifestyle (aggressive? laid back? <-- my only salvation to the whole damn test), height/weight, blood pressure, cholesterol level, driving habits, wear seatbelt?, whether I get my prostrate looked at or not, smoking habits (oh shit), drinking habits (OH SHIT), etc, etc. Bottomline, it predicted I'm history in 16 years. Shit.

Soooooooooo... What am I gonna do about that? Quit smoking? Quit drinking? Move to another state that people live longer? Lemme see... In the top ten there's Minnesota, Utah, Connecticut, Massachusetts, New Hampshire, North Dakota, Rhode Island, Vermont... Shit... I'd freeze to death by 65, to hell with that.

Hmmmm... Hawaii? #1? Live until 80 years old? Mahalo you MF's, I'm gone. Aloooohaa oooo alooooha hiiiii.. To the tune of my favorite Leon Redbone Christmas Carol "How'd ya like to spend Christmas.. on Christmas Issssland... How'd ya like to hang your stocking from a great big coconut tree... How'd ya like to staaaay upppp late.. like the Islanders dooooo.. wait for Santa to sail in with those presents in a canoe.."... fuckin A Ray - I'll take my hammock.

Oh... and BTW, Urban blacks die first at 71.1. Western American Indians around 72.7 (Shit, I've got somea that blood in me).. Middle America 77.9 (<--GD, again, that's if you're born today)... Asian Americans 84.9? Oh shit! I KNOW - I KNOW....

I'm moving to Hawaii... I'm gonna hook up with some Asian chicky like Sookie, Zoe Tay or Fang Hong, and try to become Asian thru injection... Hehe.. Shit, I'll be surfing until I'm 90-something... Ah so... Ah soooo good... Velly good...

Regardless of whether I stay here, keep smoking, drinking, not getting my butthole looked at - and die at age 66.5 or 70... or... if I hold heap big garage sale, sell all, wisk off to Hawaii to hookup with Sookie... I understand THIS IS THE TIME OF MY/OUR LIFE/LIVES... Life - I have no idea about the expectancy.. well, maybe a little better idea... but LIVING life - I have expectancies... I expect to enjoy it.. Every minute is a gift... Every smile is a treasure... Every laugh is excercise - and that shit's supposed to be good for you... Sex? Hell yea...

May your afternoon be awesome - and may it continue long, long, long into evening... Live it up until midnight... Hug your loved ones... Hell, hug someone that's 'hot' in the grocery store... life is waning... but let's wane happily...

Mahalo, Victurd Chang

Round round get around - I get around.. yeahhhhh

But I don't. Buddy and I were talkin'... Subject of porn movies came up -- only because we're perhaps perverted linguists... Movies - famous movies.. Fashion today I guess in porn is to take names of famous movies and twist 'em into porn titles... Like 'On Golden Blonde'... and ya don't have to even twist 'Driving Miss Daisy'. (Victor, you're sick.) Yes I know, but I'm 53, divorced, ain't got my folks any more - I will do what I wanna do when I wanna do as long as I abide by the law!

So I thought I'd try to add s'more perverted titles - and I went to search "Academy Awards Best Picture".... Turns out, I'm a shut in. <-- Which is the opposite of a Shue in should Elisabeth call me... Anyways, in the past nine years I've seen ONE of the movies receiving the Best Picture award. Home boy eh?

I always thought Joan was pretty.. I guess you could have one 'Raiders of Joan Van Ark." I'd watch it. For those of you REAL sick puppies - you could just remake Silence of the Lambs.. Bend-Hur.. I guess they could have a lesso one and call it Toy Story...

The Adventures of Robin's Hood... (GOOD LORD VICTOR) Aww lighten up.. sometimes the sicker the better you uppity self-righteous assbreath... Ahm.. Die Hard... Ed's Wood.. Some ya ain't gotta even change.. Snatch.. Brief Encounter.. In the Heat of Nurse Night.. Bonnie on Clyde.. A Man for All Seasons.. His Girl Friday.. Making Rosemary's Baby.. A Streetcar for Desire...

Ok, going to work now. Should you - ol' blog reader - have any spiffy titles to add - please do. To be a preverted linguist is a good thing. Double entendre's are a good thing. I don't think stuff like that is evil.. We need to unleash the sick side upon occasion.. No, to dwell in it is perhaps truly sick - but to laugh and have fun without hurting someone tis ok.

Happy happy day... Love, Forest Hump.

Thanks....

We all watched in horror five years ago... For most of us - it was the first intrusion of the United States in our lifetime...

It's certainly a day for remembering those who met their fate that day... and it's a good time to take a moment out to thank those who serve our country so that we may be able to live with the wonderful freedom we have...

Life here is precious... We've all seen the atrocities of third world countries... I pray from this day forth we never ever take our freedom for granted - and that there will be no further intrusions in our lifetime that we will have to demark the date - stop - remember. May we daily pray and give thanks for our past and continued freedom.

So thanks if you somehow have served/protected our country, community. Love, Victor

Whadda you wanna talk about?

I dunno... you?... I don't care... Where do you wanna go?... I dunno... you?

Work. Teenage work. Ya want the job, ya want the pay, but you don't wanna put in the hours. Every minute spent at work is a minute your friends are out there playing without you... Hell, literal hell.

Work. Twenty-something. I wants me a title. I'm gonna fill ma damn closet up with the finest duds.. I'ma gonna get my picture raht there on page 7 of the Business section where it says "Promotions". I am gonna be SOMEBODY.

Work. Thirty-something. GD feeding these kids is tough. I'ma gonna get me a 2nd job - and if the boss don't like it - or don't promote me - then tough tootie. They're all high and mighty over that wet-behind-the-ears recent grad in 2B anyways. Screw 'em.

Work. Forty-something. I can still run with the young pups - but I'm kinda happy where I am in this company. I ain't out to kiss booty to move up - too damn old for that. I'm gonna monitor my 401K closer - my resolution this year. GD when will those kids fly the coup so I can cut back on somea this overtime - or, lower my commission goals to a more realistic figure. I JUST got my college paid off - GD, I'ma gonna be a creeper by the time I get these snotnose's student loans paid off.

Work. Fifty-something. Motions - going through. I see those young whippersnappers and I remember the day I had that spunk. More power to 'em - but no thanks. I'm of the age where I'll gladly tell my boss that onea his ideas is bullshit - and because I've sat my fatass in this chair so long - he won't get all bent outta shape by me saying so. Oh shit - my 401K. GD how could I have forgotten to watch it closer? I remember the day 65 was retirement age - but I see more and morea my buddies here working into their early 70's. Shit. I never will see Florida. I'm gonna keel as a working raisin.

Work. Sixty-something. Ain't been there yet - can't tell ya about it. I'm certain I'll be working unless Elisabeth Shue returns onea my 672 emails I've sent her and invites me to be her live in. I could handle that. I'd be a Shue in.

I feel lucky to daily be able to observe the attitudes of employees from each of these brackets. Really - notta one of 'em speaks anything about enjoying life (cepting maybe the view from the teenager's shoes)... Perhaps we could learn from that.

I ain't real sure if anyone is still here - but I'm gonna write nonetheless. Last I remember - there's a school secretary.. a lady who works from home on the computer.. and a traveling insurance person.. all cool jobs - fairly different from mine. I'd love to hear your take on work/the ages. How do you - at age 40-something or 50-something feel about work today?

Truthfully - my job has been my savior the last 4-5 years. It's been a social outlet. The overtime has helped me feed the Ameristar. And I've been made to feel like a contributor. So........ close your ears... I like my job - in spitea any bitching you might hear.

Speakin' o jobs.. I gotta go stick my hand in this thing that records what your palm looks like so you don't hook-or-crook them on hours. GD I hate that. May the corners of your mouth point upward at the timeclock of your work and life. Love, Victurd.

I read the news today oh boy.....

It just keeps gettin' wierder and wierder..

Detroit Lions defensive line coach arrested for driving nude in a Detroit suburb.. Do you think his players might think twice before he asks them to get down in a four point stance?

Paris Hilton arrested for drunken driving - she blew a .8... First time she's blown an 8 that hasn't been videotaped.

Man (back East somewhere) shot his wife's pet chicken - so she shot him. He survived but there's no truth to the rumor he had hot wings for dinner...

Lady curses TV reporter in San Diego... Throws water from her bottle at him.. camera.. punches camera... husband pulls up... literally beats the shit outta the poor chap.. caught on tape..

Sixty year old female bus driver - carrying full load of cheerleaders gets DUI. Two sips, four sips, six sips a dollar. All for Leona, stand up and holler!

Don't worry.... be happy.. (Don't worry be happy)... You can't always get what you want... you can't always get what you wa-ant.. And if you try sometime you find
You get what you need....

I thank the Lord each day I awaken to see just whatinthehell will happen next out there... The violence, brutality I could do without - but ain't it a trip to try to understand the why people do the things they do?

The way you do the things you do... Ok... baby hangover.. (I know I know, shouldn't do that mid-week.. to which I reply... empty nest... I'm 53... I didn't work overtime for the first time in eons... and... WTF.. if Paris can go drinkin' - so can I.) Four guys I went to high school with - a good time had by all. The stories get better, embellished a tad bit more each and every meeting.

I think it was Ali that said "I can't wait to go to bed 'cause when I wake up I get better looking every day.".. I feel the same way - except it's life that gets better looking every day. The more bizarre, the better.

Happy day... or... as Catom says "have a day." May the news intrigue you - and if you can't always get what you want - then don't worry, be happy. Love, Victurd.

Close your ears.... (I'm wearing white slacks).. Shhh!

Co-worker last Thursday - strutted around in her white slacks and spouted "yep, decided to break out the white slacks one last time whilst I could still wear them."

The hell you mean?

"Oh... you CAN'T wear white slacks after Labor Day...it's fashion etiquette."

You gotta be shittin' me... I wonder at exactly what point after Adam and Eve that proclamation came... I hate stuff like that.. You know, like the proper order to silverware at a dining situation... "Start outside and work your way in." Hell, sounds a tad bit like sex to me - mebbe I do like that rule. On the other hand - I'd kinda getta kick outta sittin' across from Ms. Manners and watch her face when I used the inside fork to eat my salad... (Followed shortly by elbows on the table <-- hey, it's comfy..)..

I understand and obey laws, I hate societal do's and don'ts....

Went to that bellaonline thing.. i dunno, something about the voice of women... browsed.. .one question "What is considered appropriate and customary dress for men and women for a dinner party when the invitation states "Cocktail" attire?"

A. A dark well-tailored suit for men and a black or jewel-toned knee- or tea-length dress for women would be appropriate for cocktail attire.

Hell's bells.... Gimme my jean shorts... a 'been worn so many times I got ma money's worth top' (In case I get BBQ sauce allover it).. and my MU bag chair... now THAT'S how I dress for dinner/cocktails...

Another site addressed elevator etiquette... "It is rude as well as moronic to press the elevator call button incessantly." Uh oh, I know I ain't gonna like this lady.. "Men should allow women to enter and exit first only when no fancy choreography is required." HEY, I'm for equal rights... Packa us go to lunch from work and I grump and groan each time we go to the buffet place and I hold the door.. GD I'm hungry too... there's more to me to feed than you birdbutts have to feed.. Why do I have to wait? I'm burdened by the simple fact I have a penis!

"Although some people may not mind being told by a stranger to have a nice day, I enjoy not having a nice day once in a while and find the expression bossy and intrusive." IS IT YOU? From work? The bitch from accounting? Ok, from this day forth I will only nod.

"In any case, do not carry on loud conversations, especially those having to do with personal matters or work issues." So... I can't ask my buddy "when'd ya get outta jail Ralph?".... or... "Doc says I only got three more days of being contagious"...

I suppose farting ain't allowed either... Onea my favorites elevator events (Victor, you're so wierd, a simpleton) was - Vegas.. I'd been up all night.. had onea them cheapass big, humongous buffets.. too much coffee.. to much beer the night before.. uh huh, gas - MAJOR gas. I was the only one on.. finally, just before arrival of the casino lobby I let one rip.. A classic one.. Eddie (Randy Quaid)and Larry the Cable guy woulda been proud.. Anyways.. 6, maybe 7 Oriental chaps hop on just after I get off... hehe.. ya shoulda heard the commotion.. OH-#$@-&%*#@@)--%^&*@@... I think they blamed one guy - cause I could hear 'em cussin all the way up to 6th floor.. To me it's hell when ya hear folks like that talk 'cause ya can't understand.. but - to hear 6 of them all talking at once and be able to think "hey.. I have an idea of what they're saying" was cool!

Don't wear a hat indoors. How come? Cardinals in the World Series? Chiefs on Monday Night Football? You bet your ass Abby I'm gonna wear ma hat...

Laws I abide by. "Societal way" I ain't real fond of. Says who? What gives them the right to determine what to wear, say, how to eat, chew gum, what kinda gift to buy, etc, etc? Snooty patooty I call it. Etiquette schmetiquette.

Somehow I'm reminded of Gladys Kravats.. I live next door to Gladys Kravats. Nine years ago she grabbed Maynard's arm like she was gonna beat the crap outta him and I ain't talked to her since. (Now he may have earned it - but by God that's gonna come from me - not her.) She's onea them that has a phone list (or speed dial) when gossip hits - or, when it's time to play "ain't it awful." She gives me evil looks when it's obivously about time to mow.

Anyways... yesterday as I was sweeping the grass off the sidewalk.. she approached me. Oh shit, I'd waited one day after mowing to do it - I was gonna get it now... What? No? Turns out she's having a BBQ for neighbors. "Brian and I have lived here all our lives yet we don't even know our neighbors."

Wow? A new leaf? Uh huh, I'm from Missouri - show me. So... I read her pamphlet.. after the friendly greeting.. she continued "and I have asthma so there will be NO SMOKING.. and NO ALCOHOL either... and you can wear your swimsuits underneath and swim in our pool BUT YOU WILL BE RESPONSIBLE FOR YOUR CHILDREN - NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR ANY ACCIDENT... etc, etc. Nope, she ain't changed. No thanks, I just remembered I have a dental appointment that Sunday - thanks though..

Sign sign everywhere a sign.. blocking out the scenery breaking my mind.. do this, don't do that, can't you read the sign....

Tucking my hair up under my hat... Happy day... Don't "rule me out" as friend... love, Victurd (Side note... week starting... outside, pre-work cig... co-worker looks at me... "No socks?"... No... no socks... See?... sign, sign everywhere a sign.)

Waffle House at 2am………. Sober….

7pm, laid down to take a nap before attending the 40th birthday party of a friend.. 9pm – peepers opened.. “eh, justa nuther 30 minutes – it’s all good.”

Woke up at 1am. Crap. Stir crazy – some boring Sci-Fi (Sorry – hate ‘em) movie on the tube.. batteries needed in remote.. to GD lazy to get up and change channel.. didn’t wanna watch it anyways.

Sausage. Craving sausage. Ok, it’s now 2am – Waffle House only choice. (One Christmas – being the only one left from nuclear family – Waffle House was the place for me… I left a bigass tip – and everyone was friendly as hell… and THEY were at work on Christmas..)

So I pull in… use my little arm weight thingys to block my tires so we don’t roll away and purchase a GD F350… Stories happened even before I got in the door.. Very good looking young couple en route to their car as I was entering.. “NO.. I’m not coming over to your house tonight.” I bet you males can’t guess which one said that? Hehe. Of course, he’d done/said something really rotten earlier in the night – and he is being (close your ears) “pussy punished” for at least this night – who knows, she looked pretty pissed.. .mebbe a week.

So – I chuckle inwardly, walk in and take my seat betweengst the 20-something crowd of drunks – and the 40-something crowd of drunks.. “Don’t piss her off man.. .she’ll spit in your food.” “You don’t need to eat any more you fatass.” “I ohrderhed ahll you can eat.. and bahy god I’m ghonna eat all I can eat – WAITRESS.. twho more eggs.. ohver easy please..”

Three offensive lineman/farmers from some hick school up North walk in with their quarterback looking Matthew Broderick… a good chance for me to see from the other side… No matter what, things are readily more entertaining to 2am Waffle House customers… They start with a smile.. They laugh all the way through… and leave with the energy that spouts “GD I’m gonna sleep until 2pm..” Everything was funny to “Matthew”… He was a red-faced, happy drunk, but he looked to be one smartass comment away from getting in a fight as he knew the three offensive tackles would protect him…

Three, count ‘em, three different people stumbled to their car.. only to find them return five minutes later to collect their cell phone, purse, or whatever it was they’d left at WH.

With the large crowd – and the hurried pace of the more than patient behind the counter crew – there was no time to clean – and there was enough food on the floor by the stove to feed two homeless people. Ya gotta love 2am at Waffle House.

Several pairs of gents made their way in… Young punks. The way I figured it – they were thinkin’ “Aw crap, we didn’t get lucky tonight… let’s go get some eats.” And they all smiled, conversed… gobbled and went home.

The forty-something crowd numbered four chicks, two males. As onea the females paid and made her way out – onea the offensive lineman noticed her provocative – no bra top --- pretty face.. and struck up a conversation.. teasingly ending it with “ok… tell him you’re going home with us tonight” and proceeded to make a fist, crank his arm up and down in the air.. victory. (They were joshing.. she had zilcho interest.. but.. with great certainty looked in the mirror at herself on Sunday and thought “you know.. maybe you aren’t so bad.. some snotnose tried to pickup on you last night.”

All-in-all.. most weren’t as drunk as what I thought I’d see.. Nothing remotely resembling a fight happened (well, ceptin’ the dude on the way out that for sure wasn’t gonna get laid by his girlfriend)…

No matter… you gotta love Waffle House… May your day be scattered, smothered and covered – or, exactly how you’d like it. Love, Victurd.

Rabbit in a snowstorm.......or, Hello Dolly...

Block, as in writer's block. (Victurd, who called you a writer?) Ok talkback, you win. Howabout Bloggers block? (Sustained.) Geez, thanks your Honor.

Driving in - tossing and turning - head spinnin'/thinkin' about a multitudea crap. The change in seasons... Nah, done that before - it'd be mundane - no matta how our utility bills like this timea year.

MU/KU rivalry? Every time I write about sports - it seems to be a tonic for anyone swinging by to take a nap... Sex? Nah, how can I be an expert when I ain't practicin'?

Animals? Nah, we all (mostly) love 'em, and we're filled to the gills of emails with cutesy animal pics.. Money? We could talk money?.. Nah, no thanks... you know that thingamabob you cook spaghetti in - the thing that kinda looks like a pan - but it's got holes in the bottom to drain out the water? That's what I think of when I thinka money. Fill that bastard up... more, more, MORE.. and it's never enough.. fugger will never fill up.. See? Toldya.. It ain't half full.. the sonofabitch leaks!

Bubbly is always a good topic (co-worker who we will leave anonymous)... Yes.. Yes she is. You'd have to know her.. I love Ms. Bubbly.. She's a bright, young, Bubbly, intelligent, speakswhateverinthehell is on her mind, attractive young chicky I work with. June Cleavage she can be. Push the envelope? Nah, she just wants to be herself - and for some jealous reason, some here at our 1960's-like family owned business want to control how she thinks, how she acts, and even whereinthehell she parks. Oh sure, she drops more than her fair share of F-bombs - but we're used to it now and there ain't no shock value any more...

Her wit is quick, and what's even better - she laughs at virtually all my attempts at humor.. She says the typical office stuff like "I just farted." "I wish I'd get my period." "Have you seen that sale's rep for 'ABC Company'? I'd suck on him all night long." You know, the usual stuff people say in the office - hehe. The other day, nuther friendly/funny lady was winging banter back and forth with Bubbly - (other lady happened to have on a red and white horizontally striped top) - and without the bat of an eye Bubbly responded back "fuck you Where's Waldo...yada yada yada." She's quick - she's a snowflake. We love her... Cept for a couplea people...

Yes... she hada fender bender recently in the work parking lot.. She was leaving at 5p, a semi-uppity lady wasa backin' out - KABOOM. Fairly severe damage to Bubbly's car.. Oh my, the lady she hit - last winter - my buddy Leon (the 73 yr old smartass, nice, nice man who'd never hurta fly) went around to all the cars in the parking lot with a plastic snow shovel and got all the snow off... Ms. semi-uppity came to him the next morning with a gravely piece of mind and something along the line of "you keep you GD hands/snow shovel off my car - I got a scratch." <-- So, this is how much this lady loves her car. Ouch.

"Bubbly was exiting the entrance." (We ain't gotta entrance or exit - there's two ways in/out - and both are used for each). "I was all the way backed up - she rear ended me." Not exactly how it happened - in fact, Ms. semi-uppity's car was backing out in the direction to exit the so-called entrance.

Ms. Bubbly's car wouldn't turn after the fender bender. Her headlight was smashed out ("Oh no.. Barney Fife is gonna suredly pull me over for that when I'm on my way home from 'church' some night." <-- so.. until the insurance company settles - she asked her mechanic if it was possible to duct tape the headlight on.. hehe..)

So.. Bubbly put her car in the shop. A couple days later, the PM lady (People Management I think they call it) called her in.. says.. "I've had reports you've been speeding thru the parking lot." Ms. Bubbly (please, please Ms. Bubbly - don't hold it in!) "I ain't even had a fuckin' car the last two days... howinthehell have I been speeding thru the parking lot?" (The day my mama socked it to - the Harper Valley PTA...)

We've got probable millions and millions of precious dollars being raised here in the work we do - and this PM lady would rather mess with trivial, judgmental crap like this? Geez.

"Don't you realize our parking lot is a privilege?... You need to keep your car parked between the lines.... You car is too big.. people can't see around it... You can't park in that corner spot any more.." Ms. Bubbly gave up (for now).. "Whatever."

I am very very thankful that for most of my life - I've tried and tried to see how other's think/behave from their shoes - and.. have tried to live with the belief we simply all think differently. It ain't my way or the highway. It's what makes us sucha wonderful, wonderful world. I love Bubbly's way of thinking - seeing from her shoes. It's really too bad there are those in the world that have just one pair of shoes to see from.

And Mr. Baker can you tell us why your secretary had to leave this town.. And shouldn't widow Jones be told to keep her window shades all pulled completely down... Now Mr. Harper couldn't be here 'cause he's stayed too long in Kelly's bar again.. And if you smell Shirley Thompson's breath you'll find she's had a little nip of gin....And then you have the nerve to tell me as a mother you think that I ain't fit...Well this is just a little Payton Place and you're all Harper Valley hypocrits....

Harpy day... Victurd