Pee. Piss. Wizz. Leak. Squat. Drain the lizard. Tinkle. Number one. More names for it than John Cougar Mellencamp. Why?
We pee, on average one and one-half quarts of pee per day. Did you know (I dunno how they found this out - but) pee doesn't stink inside one's body - then, the minute it comes out - whew, it begins to breakdown. Would you believe eating asparagus makes your pee emit a funny smell? "Let's go to my folks tonight honey.".. "Ahm, Ok, brb, going to eat a bowl of asparagus."
Why, WHY do women always announce it? Doris Day went "to the powder room." Audrey Hepburn went "to freshen up." Nowadays, you chicks have reduced it to "I gotta go pee" - WHY? Did you like think we wanted to know that? Does it really mean ya gotta take a dump? And whyinthehell do you ALWAYS leave the lid down?
Seen a special on Dolly Parton last night... One of her musical specials - some guy gets up - she embarrasses him about "going to pee". Don't get me wrong, I love Dolly. Dolly also said "hubby and I like to go on trips... but we take a motor home.. we get tired just like everyone else.. but generally - celebrities can't walk into the Quick Trip and take a pee.. so, we bring our own toilet."
Wow. On the road and having to pee. (We men bear cups.. well.. I won't say which ex, but one of 'em impressed me by peeing while riding on Interstate 70 into a 3 lb coffee can and didn't spill a drop!) Haveya ever had to pee so bad you didn't think you were gonna make it... you finally pull into the place to pee... YES, YES, YES! you jump out.. walk that walk that you hope nobody says "Hey, look at him/her, i bet he/she's gotta pee." You know, kinda cross-legged like. So, FINALLY you get to the door and the bastard is locked. NO, NO, NO. Or, the fugger is outside, you've made it to the door, there's maybe a baby drip showing thru your jeans and the sign on the door says "See attendant for key" - SHIT!
Speakin' o shit, if you ain't had breakfast - don't read ahead. Again, one of the ex's - worked in a lab. Awaiting in the office was a kinda-sorta mentally challenged man there for testing ordered by his doctor.. The receptionist called his name - he approached... was given the little clear jar thing.. pointed to "room B" - and told to "please go urinate into the jar." Ten minutes later - no sign of him. Twenty minutes later - huh uh. Finally, receptionist walks to door, knocks lightly, "you Ok Mr. (enter name or not-so-bright here)?" "Yes, I'm fine." A few minutes later he comes out with the clear jar completely full to the brim of poop. Hehe. The head dude in the lab, pulls him to the back, grabs another jar and sternly admonishes "TAKE THIS... GO PISS IN IT." That word he knew. Sadly, that's a true story.
Ever change a boy's diaper and get hit by the jetstream? What a wierd, wierd society. Golden Showers? Yuck. No thanks.
For years, when I'd go out and have a beer, or two, or three... to compute whether I oughta be driving or not - I'd take my weight, the number of drinks, in how many hours, and there was some damn formula I could use to determine my blood alcohol content as to whether I could drive or not. Thank goodness for pee. My formula became much too difficult, and my math skills ain't great to begin with, letalone after four beers. SO.. Now I just use the color test method (when peeing)... BRIGHT: Can drive tonight.. CLEAR: Better not steer. It's easy!
Much easier for us men to pee outdoors. Haha, we can write our names in snow. Haha, we can pee in the outdoors without fully exposing ourselves. Haha.
THE POOL. Don't lie, you've done it haven't you? (Ever swallow water on accident at a public pool? Eww).. Gracie, for years, trained her kids that "if you go pee in the pool, they've got this red dye in the water - and it will make it red ALL AROUND YOU if you pee.. so you must get out and go in to the bathroom." Other parents complimented her on "how on earth do you always get your kids to get out to go to the bathroom?" One of her sons teasingly said one night "I'll think someday I'll rob a bank." Huh uh Gracie, don't go with the red dye story, he won't believe it this time!
Well... I gotta go pee now... Back later.. Please remember, I hope to write this blog until I pee my pants and forget my name.... Oh, and btw, please don't ever drink outta any empty Styrofoam cups that might be in my car. Happy day, bye bye now.
Saturday, April 29, 2006
Friday, April 28, 2006
Back in the saddle.....
There are instances in life where doing something outta the norm is a good thing - but, returning to status quo is even better...
Getting in one's car after driving a rental car... Being around other's children - then being with your own... A motel bed versus the finely concaved thing one calls 'my bed'....
Seeing the 'population' sign at the entryway of one's hometown after traversing out of it... A training function or meeting at work - finally to return to one's desk.
My cubicle. I'm back in my cubicle again. Catchy, could be a song. Great time golfing with the brass... Actually had three of six new balls left - which, considering we played at a course where every friggin hole is built around the winding creek - I ain't considerin' that too bad.. I'm sore, I'm sunburned - but I'm back in the saddle again..
Where I work is really a good, good place to work. If you do your job and do it decently - there's eventual reward. It does have it's idiosyncrasies though. We have parking/entrance on the East side for 'the upper crust'. The resta us park on the West side, have to click a damn code to get in. (I'm reminded of our local cemetery... Believe it or not, at one time there was burial on "this side of the road for whites, that side of the road for blacks." Be for real. One of my buddies - who happened to be black - recently passed away. His wife - who happened to be white - asked him when his cancer worsened "which side of the road do you want to be buried on?" Be for real was his answer too. Jimmy 'parked on the West Side with the coded entry'. We are one - to cave into separation just ain't right.)
For a long time I was intimidated by 'the brass' here. Silly at age 53, but true. No longer. Is that some scary shit? Should I be worried if I were to have an urge to park on the East side - have my own damn office with no co-workers to contend with? Not no, but hell's no there's no urge for that. Rationalization for acceptance of my own mediocrity? Eh, nah. I'm back in the saddle. I will climb the ladder here - but only if a fluorescent bulb goes out.
Now if I could only find a saddle for Maynard.
Getting in one's car after driving a rental car... Being around other's children - then being with your own... A motel bed versus the finely concaved thing one calls 'my bed'....
Seeing the 'population' sign at the entryway of one's hometown after traversing out of it... A training function or meeting at work - finally to return to one's desk.
My cubicle. I'm back in my cubicle again. Catchy, could be a song. Great time golfing with the brass... Actually had three of six new balls left - which, considering we played at a course where every friggin hole is built around the winding creek - I ain't considerin' that too bad.. I'm sore, I'm sunburned - but I'm back in the saddle again..
Where I work is really a good, good place to work. If you do your job and do it decently - there's eventual reward. It does have it's idiosyncrasies though. We have parking/entrance on the East side for 'the upper crust'. The resta us park on the West side, have to click a damn code to get in. (I'm reminded of our local cemetery... Believe it or not, at one time there was burial on "this side of the road for whites, that side of the road for blacks." Be for real. One of my buddies - who happened to be black - recently passed away. His wife - who happened to be white - asked him when his cancer worsened "which side of the road do you want to be buried on?" Be for real was his answer too. Jimmy 'parked on the West Side with the coded entry'. We are one - to cave into separation just ain't right.)
For a long time I was intimidated by 'the brass' here. Silly at age 53, but true. No longer. Is that some scary shit? Should I be worried if I were to have an urge to park on the East side - have my own damn office with no co-workers to contend with? Not no, but hell's no there's no urge for that. Rationalization for acceptance of my own mediocrity? Eh, nah. I'm back in the saddle. I will climb the ladder here - but only if a fluorescent bulb goes out.
Now if I could only find a saddle for Maynard.
Thursday, April 27, 2006
Who's calling please?
I really abhor those words... It's all about ranking people - and somehow, I try to see people as the same worth... One day at work I was asked that - and I replied "George W. Bush" - to which the person said "hmmm... that oughta get 'em on here!"...
Somebody. I AM SOMEBODY. Self importance - look at me... my car is better than yours... I make more... they value me more... I ain't real fonda all that. Maybe that's why I'll continue to hustle along in mediocrity the remainder of my life..
We have asskissers here at work. Me no comprende. Either you do your job and you do it well - or you don't. Why ass kiss?
We gotta guy flying in from Baltimore today... One of our vendors.. The guy's cool - and we joke virtually daily... A couplea days ago I was whisked into 'next-to-top dog's office'.. "Vic, we've got an opportunity for you." Hmmm.. K... "Marc is coming into town Thursday, and we'd like you to play golf with us... we'll be playing at Deer Creek." Holy shit, Deer Creek? Ya gotta have silk undies to play at Deer Creek.. My irons don't match.. I needa new golf bag.. Will they notice I got my golf shoes at the Thrift Store? Shit, I don't even havea sleeve of balls... "Ok, sounds cool, thanks."
It ain't fair that I'll be there and my coworkers will be here - so why did I get somewhat excited when I was asked? Do I wanna get to the point where someday I have a go-between to find out just whointhehell is calling me? (My best friend in High School.. few years after we graduated he gotta job at a bank and moved his way up to the main loan officer... usedta piss me off I had to go thru a screener to get to him... and I told him... "You sonofabitch... of all the crap we've gone thru... all the situations we've bailed each other outta.. and you gotta find out just who it is calling you?".. hehe..
Anyways, I'm not certain I can spend much more time with you low life blog-readers. I'm thinkin' about going to the Men's Warehouse.. buyin' me some duds... hangin' at Barnes & Noble drinking my latte'... Maybe movin' closer to the Plah-za.. (No, ain't pronouncin' it Plaza... I'm somebody.. ya gotta call it "the PLAH-ZA.")
In fact.. I think I'll develop some kinda user id/password for this stupid blog.. yeah, that'd be cool.. I can weed out who I don't want in here.. Control.. Somebody.. Uppity.. Poo-poo no stinky...
Or.. on the other hand... I can just go play golf today.. have a couplea beers... say a few smartass (fun) things to the 'officers' - and sneak back into my little cubicle I adore so much tomorrow.
Yeah, that's what I'll do.... .Say.. Have I given you one of my business cards yet?
Somebody. I AM SOMEBODY. Self importance - look at me... my car is better than yours... I make more... they value me more... I ain't real fonda all that. Maybe that's why I'll continue to hustle along in mediocrity the remainder of my life..
We have asskissers here at work. Me no comprende. Either you do your job and you do it well - or you don't. Why ass kiss?
We gotta guy flying in from Baltimore today... One of our vendors.. The guy's cool - and we joke virtually daily... A couplea days ago I was whisked into 'next-to-top dog's office'.. "Vic, we've got an opportunity for you." Hmmm.. K... "Marc is coming into town Thursday, and we'd like you to play golf with us... we'll be playing at Deer Creek." Holy shit, Deer Creek? Ya gotta have silk undies to play at Deer Creek.. My irons don't match.. I needa new golf bag.. Will they notice I got my golf shoes at the Thrift Store? Shit, I don't even havea sleeve of balls... "Ok, sounds cool, thanks."
It ain't fair that I'll be there and my coworkers will be here - so why did I get somewhat excited when I was asked? Do I wanna get to the point where someday I have a go-between to find out just whointhehell is calling me? (My best friend in High School.. few years after we graduated he gotta job at a bank and moved his way up to the main loan officer... usedta piss me off I had to go thru a screener to get to him... and I told him... "You sonofabitch... of all the crap we've gone thru... all the situations we've bailed each other outta.. and you gotta find out just who it is calling you?".. hehe..
Anyways, I'm not certain I can spend much more time with you low life blog-readers. I'm thinkin' about going to the Men's Warehouse.. buyin' me some duds... hangin' at Barnes & Noble drinking my latte'... Maybe movin' closer to the Plah-za.. (No, ain't pronouncin' it Plaza... I'm somebody.. ya gotta call it "the PLAH-ZA.")
In fact.. I think I'll develop some kinda user id/password for this stupid blog.. yeah, that'd be cool.. I can weed out who I don't want in here.. Control.. Somebody.. Uppity.. Poo-poo no stinky...
Or.. on the other hand... I can just go play golf today.. have a couplea beers... say a few smartass (fun) things to the 'officers' - and sneak back into my little cubicle I adore so much tomorrow.
Yeah, that's what I'll do.... .Say.. Have I given you one of my business cards yet?
Wednesday, April 26, 2006
Hosta La Vista Baby........
GD Misty (<-- semi regular quarter contributor) I KNOW that ain't how you spell it... YES, I KNOW you were the Raymore 5th grade spelling bee champ... just bear with me dammit...
I watched as Gracie came down the stairs.. Dressed like Johnny Cash.. .a puppeteer.. black... all black... It was almost time for the old people's go to bed 10pm news... the middle of the week... We'd eaten.. We'd even run errands... Whythehell was she all dressed up, and in black no less?
"Since none of my pussy friends will go with me.... I'm going by myself." Ya rarely hear the word pussy in that sense any more... Back in the dinosaur days, it meant you were wimping out... afraid... not up to the challenge.. On this one, I'd admittedly 'pussied out.'
Earlier that week at the Garden Center - she pointed to these low lying, shade loving green and cream colored things and remarked "LOOK AT THAT... $8.95... I've seen them at some places for FIFTEEN DOLLARS APIECE." That was followed by "I must have 100 of those Hosta's at my old place... I originally bought 20 plants... a few years later divided them up, gave Dee FIFTY of 'em... now I don't have any..."
Scroll back to Johnny Cash. "Where ya goin?"... "I'm goin' the get my Hosta's." But Gracie, you're a school teacher, you'll get caught, it'll be embarrassing, you'll shoot your eye out. "Pussy" was the only reply.
Gracie has a wonderful home. She had one maybe even wonderfuller (the neat thing about a blog, you can spell crap any way ya wanta).. Kindly said to her ex, through no fault of her own she lost her house she'd helped pay on for eighteen years. The very nice light fixtures and the brass plated things that go around the light switches were taken, but dammit, time got away and the Hostas were left.
Tonya jumped in the car laughing hysterically... Gracie reassured "Tonya, what are they gonna do if they catch us... take us in for 'Taking the Hostas hostage'?" The laughter again roared... and soon they found themselves parked 4 doors down from the scene of the soon to be crime. Can you dig it?
The weather outside was frightful - but it hadn't yet begun to rain... The distant booming thunder perhaps kept the neighbors eyes and ears on Channel 9, versus wondering where the laughter was coming from outside... Tonya pointed the flashlight, Gracie dug and dug away. Several times they had to self discipline themselves to keep the laughter down as they dug, pointed the flashlight.
I, the pussy, sat on Gracie's porch admiring the wonderful show God was putting on. Since I wouldn't go - I was to remain at Gracie's just in case I had to find a bail bondsman.
About an hour later - this timid knock comes to the door. Officer Wimpy? No.. there stood Gracie... shoes in hand - muddy as hell... hair damp... dressed in black.. with a little bit of earthen clay intermixed... and a bigass smile on her face.. And.... a trash bag with some 60 Hostas hostage.
As I related this story to Kendra (<-- another semi-regular quarter contributor) she replied "I love her even more now".... Yeah, they threw away the mold after Gracie - that's for sure...
Had I helped contribute - cha-ching - for eighteen years on a house and really have nothing to show (ceptin' light fixtures and brass plates AND memories) I think I woulda done the same thing. I chose the pussy path, but.. I had some laughs outta it..
I could just envision "Class, I'm sorry, you're teacher won't be in today.. she's in jail for trespassing." To which one onere snotnose would reply "well, I guess
we forgive those who tresspass against us"... or... The local newspaper "Robber caught redhanded with weapon in hand."
I've been sitting here for twenty minutes trying to think up something damn clever to end this with. Sorry, I, the pussy, have struck out. A host-a ideas went thru my head - but none of 'em cultivated. I dig Gracie. Happy day, bye bye now.
I watched as Gracie came down the stairs.. Dressed like Johnny Cash.. .a puppeteer.. black... all black... It was almost time for the old people's go to bed 10pm news... the middle of the week... We'd eaten.. We'd even run errands... Whythehell was she all dressed up, and in black no less?
"Since none of my pussy friends will go with me.... I'm going by myself." Ya rarely hear the word pussy in that sense any more... Back in the dinosaur days, it meant you were wimping out... afraid... not up to the challenge.. On this one, I'd admittedly 'pussied out.'
Earlier that week at the Garden Center - she pointed to these low lying, shade loving green and cream colored things and remarked "LOOK AT THAT... $8.95... I've seen them at some places for FIFTEEN DOLLARS APIECE." That was followed by "I must have 100 of those Hosta's at my old place... I originally bought 20 plants... a few years later divided them up, gave Dee FIFTY of 'em... now I don't have any..."
Scroll back to Johnny Cash. "Where ya goin?"... "I'm goin' the get my Hosta's." But Gracie, you're a school teacher, you'll get caught, it'll be embarrassing, you'll shoot your eye out. "Pussy" was the only reply.
Gracie has a wonderful home. She had one maybe even wonderfuller (the neat thing about a blog, you can spell crap any way ya wanta).. Kindly said to her ex, through no fault of her own she lost her house she'd helped pay on for eighteen years. The very nice light fixtures and the brass plated things that go around the light switches were taken, but dammit, time got away and the Hostas were left.
Tonya jumped in the car laughing hysterically... Gracie reassured "Tonya, what are they gonna do if they catch us... take us in for 'Taking the Hostas hostage'?" The laughter again roared... and soon they found themselves parked 4 doors down from the scene of the soon to be crime. Can you dig it?
The weather outside was frightful - but it hadn't yet begun to rain... The distant booming thunder perhaps kept the neighbors eyes and ears on Channel 9, versus wondering where the laughter was coming from outside... Tonya pointed the flashlight, Gracie dug and dug away. Several times they had to self discipline themselves to keep the laughter down as they dug, pointed the flashlight.
I, the pussy, sat on Gracie's porch admiring the wonderful show God was putting on. Since I wouldn't go - I was to remain at Gracie's just in case I had to find a bail bondsman.
About an hour later - this timid knock comes to the door. Officer Wimpy? No.. there stood Gracie... shoes in hand - muddy as hell... hair damp... dressed in black.. with a little bit of earthen clay intermixed... and a bigass smile on her face.. And.... a trash bag with some 60 Hostas hostage.
As I related this story to Kendra (<-- another semi-regular quarter contributor) she replied "I love her even more now".... Yeah, they threw away the mold after Gracie - that's for sure...
Had I helped contribute - cha-ching - for eighteen years on a house and really have nothing to show (ceptin' light fixtures and brass plates AND memories) I think I woulda done the same thing. I chose the pussy path, but.. I had some laughs outta it..
I could just envision "Class, I'm sorry, you're teacher won't be in today.. she's in jail for trespassing." To which one onere snotnose would reply "well, I guess
we forgive those who tresspass against us"... or... The local newspaper "Robber caught redhanded with weapon in hand."
I've been sitting here for twenty minutes trying to think up something damn clever to end this with. Sorry, I, the pussy, have struck out. A host-a ideas went thru my head - but none of 'em cultivated. I dig Gracie. Happy day, bye bye now.
Tuesday, April 25, 2006
Uno, dos, tres........
Three very quick, good things. We can all use a good thing... I don't wanna sound like a soap opera queen - but I can definitely use a feel good.
Uno... Last night the sky was that eerie greenish "I'm gonna storm likea sum'bitch in a minute"... it was really quite beautiful... nature on display.. turn your head three times - see three different predominant colors... dark, greenish.. and bright blue... I saw the biggest rainbow I've ever seen inbetweengst... People were running out of their houses to take a better look... Feel good numero uno...
Dos... a simple one... Driving down a main drag in Liberty... 12 to 13 yr old girl on the side of the street holding up a sign... smiling like crazy... she was a little old for a Koolaid stand - so I figured car wash.. or garage sale.. cheerleader benefit.. something.. As I get closer - (squinting like the GD 53 yr old I am) it simply said "SMILE". I liked that. Thanks kid.
Tres... You're all aware I've had two wonderful relationships come to an abrupt end. No dammit, not women.. Big, brown dogs. First was Brownie... Kicked every dog's ass in town (back before the days of leash laws... when every table in the restaurants had ashtrays).. Then there was Gabe.. Gabe 'smiled' his entire life and enriched those around him because of that... Tres.. I pulled into Gracies Saturday morning.. Jersey (big brown dog #3) hadn't seen me in a day... Her ears perked.. she went into this "running back and forth rage" of happiness.. I think you'da had to been there.. but she was damned excited.. feel good number 3.
So fuck you old rollercoaster of life... I choose to take James Brown's path.. I FEEL GOOD.. (nuh-na-nuh-nuh-nuh-na-nuh) LIKE I KNEW THAT I SHOULD(nuh-na-nuh-nuh-nuh-na-nuh)... SO GOOD (pop-pow)... SO GOOD...
When times are low... I swear if you listen to Louis Armstrong's Wonderful World it'll bring ya outta any funk... (Wasn't it James that sang Ain't it Funky now?)... I don't care... I FEEL GOOD.. I choose to... Hope you feel good, or get a good feel, or felt good, or sumpin... Happy day, bye bye now....
Uno... Last night the sky was that eerie greenish "I'm gonna storm likea sum'bitch in a minute"... it was really quite beautiful... nature on display.. turn your head three times - see three different predominant colors... dark, greenish.. and bright blue... I saw the biggest rainbow I've ever seen inbetweengst... People were running out of their houses to take a better look... Feel good numero uno...
Dos... a simple one... Driving down a main drag in Liberty... 12 to 13 yr old girl on the side of the street holding up a sign... smiling like crazy... she was a little old for a Koolaid stand - so I figured car wash.. or garage sale.. cheerleader benefit.. something.. As I get closer - (squinting like the GD 53 yr old I am) it simply said "SMILE". I liked that. Thanks kid.
Tres... You're all aware I've had two wonderful relationships come to an abrupt end. No dammit, not women.. Big, brown dogs. First was Brownie... Kicked every dog's ass in town (back before the days of leash laws... when every table in the restaurants had ashtrays).. Then there was Gabe.. Gabe 'smiled' his entire life and enriched those around him because of that... Tres.. I pulled into Gracies Saturday morning.. Jersey (big brown dog #3) hadn't seen me in a day... Her ears perked.. she went into this "running back and forth rage" of happiness.. I think you'da had to been there.. but she was damned excited.. feel good number 3.
So fuck you old rollercoaster of life... I choose to take James Brown's path.. I FEEL GOOD.. (nuh-na-nuh-nuh-nuh-na-nuh) LIKE I KNEW THAT I SHOULD(nuh-na-nuh-nuh-nuh-na-nuh)... SO GOOD (pop-pow)... SO GOOD...
When times are low... I swear if you listen to Louis Armstrong's Wonderful World it'll bring ya outta any funk... (Wasn't it James that sang Ain't it Funky now?)... I don't care... I FEEL GOOD.. I choose to... Hope you feel good, or get a good feel, or felt good, or sumpin... Happy day, bye bye now....
Monday, April 24, 2006
A wonderful weekend... almost....
One couldn't have painted a nicer weekend weatherwise... Sure, storms Saturday - but that's what April is about here in the Midwest.. We're behind in rain - bring it on God...
Happy Hour Friday - we asked mid 'hour' if we were happy. Workload here has made it such - being anywhere other than at one's desk is a good thing, so yes, we decided - we were happy...
Saturday... to the casino.. (This is a recording)... Gracie's advice "have fun, but don't stay until 2am.... well, have fun.. and if staying until 2am and having fun makes you happy... then that's what I want for you... so have at and have fun." I actually walked out at 6am Sunday morning, albeit $700 to the good. HA, take that Wells Fargo nasty mortgage late letter!
Sunday... family, friends.. sitting on the porch (porch mind you, not a deck..it's the good old way)... Flowers bought... planted...
Then Sunday night 9-1-1... I don't know where I went wrong with Maynard... My loving has never ceased, nor his love for me.. I feel God musta created me to "not fly off the hook" for his benefit - as he is easily off the hook... An argument over the phone awakened me at 12:15am this morning... The argument carried over into the front yard minutes later as the car pulled up... Four - who happened to be black - versus Maynard and his friend - who happen to be white... I temporarily physically stopped Maynard as he raged out the door - - his friend already out and ahead of him... I knew there was no stopping him... I knew if not this minute - then tomorrow, or the next day, next week...
At that point I literally cried inside. This is what his life has come to. I ran inside - called 9-1-1.. "there's gonna be a fight... at ### ____ street... there are six total, four against two... please hurry."... I went into my bedroom - panicking and going over what would be the sure results in my head.. Ball bat to the head... stabbing.. gunshot... deformity... hospital... funeral... prison... I finally got the courage to walk to the front door - peek out... Maynard and friend were walking in.. each on their own two feet - no noticeable wounds... they were Ok... this time.
Police came minutes later - I thanked them and asked if they wanted to talk to Maynard and friend... they came inside... there was an obvious cocky front in Maynard's tone as he conversed... soon they were gone...
Why do I write this? I dunno. Because it's true.. because it's my life... blog about all or be a fake... I have ideas, not guaranteed answers for tomorrow...
At 1:00am I grabbed clothing for today.. headed out the door to Gracies... "Where you going? Are you coming back? Are you moving?"...... "I'm not gonna live like this."... "Yeah, but are you moving? Coming back?"...
The only respite of hope.. as I climbed in the car Maynard loudly, and I believe heartfelt said "I love you dad." That's the hope I cling to. The "I promise to do good for you father" hope. I've said the last four years "I just wanna wakeup and have Maynard be 26." (We're still just over five years from that.) Before it was said in hopes of maturity coming to the forefront within that period. Now it's a father's prayer.
Happy Hour Friday - we asked mid 'hour' if we were happy. Workload here has made it such - being anywhere other than at one's desk is a good thing, so yes, we decided - we were happy...
Saturday... to the casino.. (This is a recording)... Gracie's advice "have fun, but don't stay until 2am.... well, have fun.. and if staying until 2am and having fun makes you happy... then that's what I want for you... so have at and have fun." I actually walked out at 6am Sunday morning, albeit $700 to the good. HA, take that Wells Fargo nasty mortgage late letter!
Sunday... family, friends.. sitting on the porch (porch mind you, not a deck..it's the good old way)... Flowers bought... planted...
Then Sunday night 9-1-1... I don't know where I went wrong with Maynard... My loving has never ceased, nor his love for me.. I feel God musta created me to "not fly off the hook" for his benefit - as he is easily off the hook... An argument over the phone awakened me at 12:15am this morning... The argument carried over into the front yard minutes later as the car pulled up... Four - who happened to be black - versus Maynard and his friend - who happen to be white... I temporarily physically stopped Maynard as he raged out the door - - his friend already out and ahead of him... I knew there was no stopping him... I knew if not this minute - then tomorrow, or the next day, next week...
At that point I literally cried inside. This is what his life has come to. I ran inside - called 9-1-1.. "there's gonna be a fight... at ### ____ street... there are six total, four against two... please hurry."... I went into my bedroom - panicking and going over what would be the sure results in my head.. Ball bat to the head... stabbing.. gunshot... deformity... hospital... funeral... prison... I finally got the courage to walk to the front door - peek out... Maynard and friend were walking in.. each on their own two feet - no noticeable wounds... they were Ok... this time.
Police came minutes later - I thanked them and asked if they wanted to talk to Maynard and friend... they came inside... there was an obvious cocky front in Maynard's tone as he conversed... soon they were gone...
Why do I write this? I dunno. Because it's true.. because it's my life... blog about all or be a fake... I have ideas, not guaranteed answers for tomorrow...
At 1:00am I grabbed clothing for today.. headed out the door to Gracies... "Where you going? Are you coming back? Are you moving?"...... "I'm not gonna live like this."... "Yeah, but are you moving? Coming back?"...
The only respite of hope.. as I climbed in the car Maynard loudly, and I believe heartfelt said "I love you dad." That's the hope I cling to. The "I promise to do good for you father" hope. I've said the last four years "I just wanna wakeup and have Maynard be 26." (We're still just over five years from that.) Before it was said in hopes of maturity coming to the forefront within that period. Now it's a father's prayer.
Friday, April 21, 2006
Oral sex................... SSSSSHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!
No, not that.... And I ain't talking about studying that guy in Tulsa that has the University. That would be Oral's sex... I'm simply using the word oral here for orate. Well, actually it's written, but the headline "Written Sex" would cause you to turn to another blog - and I need all the frickin' quarters (long story) I can get if I wanna meet my goal and retire before I'm Francis's age (The WalMart "Hi" lady).
For grins, I searched sexual studies.. I thought about Google, but something about Google and sex didn't sound right... So I went to Yahoo. I thought YAHOO might only talk about orgasms, but - I found some stuff. Most I kinda already knew - some however, interesting.
I came upon two religious sites - of course they were the tamest... One was this chicky who was a newlywed - and she bemoaned the fact she and hubby weren't having the typical newlywed sex over the sink, on the patio, in the car, etc, etc. Turned out - not all are the same - and bottomline was "that's Ok... but talking about it helps." <-- See? Oral sex.
To all of you single creatures whom are admired by those in a relationship - haha. Studies indicate those in relationships have sex 74% more than their single friends (33%)...
Pfizer did a study that indicated folks were having sex well into their 70's. Duh. I mean hell, Pfizer has made millions and millions on Viagra... what did one think their study would show? "Nope, ya might as well cut that bastard off once the Social Security checks arrive." Be for real.
Eight-three percent of Italian chicks would rather have a romp in the hay than cuddle. You American chickies were 63% romp, 37% cuddle. We in America, generally doink after 5.5 dates. Hmmm. Does that mean halfway through the sixth date? Sweden was the swiftest at four dates.. Penis length, on a scale of 1-10 (with 10 being most important) held an importance of 6.2 for American women... the Italian women again - were atop @ 6.3%...
Twenty-six % of Americans have jumped in the sack for a threesome - whilst 43% of you chickies have had a Lesbian jaunt. Hmmm..
How many men have you chicks slept with? Brazilians led the way with 10 or more, Americans next at nine - and Indonesian chicks picking up the rear at two. Coincidentally, the top Brazilian pickup line is "You're delicious" and for us mundane Americans would you believe it's still "Don't I know you from somewhere?".. The number one all around pickup line is "You have beautiful eyes."
Eight percent of American have sex daily (holy shit)... Twelve percent have had sex at work..(Good Lord there's a few here I really think I'd turn my head the other way!... Victor you preverted bastard, there's a few you'd glare at closely too.. Ok, mebbe you're right again Mr. Talkback.)...
Bob. Aha. Studies found American chicks lead the way with 46% of em owning Bob. Brits close behind at 45%. And we men are the pigs with the great libido?
Americans, on average, lose their virginity at age 16. Indonesia again - the mild ones, age 21. One study indicated if parents DON'T talk about sex freely, their kids tend to be the most sexually active. (Our rule as a kid was "finish everything you start...except sex"... hehe)...
So... that's sex in the city.. or the country... or a quick study.. (Didn't read anything about quickies.)... I guess, standing from afar, it'd be best to live in Italy - walk up to a Swedish girl and tell her she has beautiful eyes - and marry the Indonesian. Happy day. Your's orally, Victor
For grins, I searched sexual studies.. I thought about Google, but something about Google and sex didn't sound right... So I went to Yahoo. I thought YAHOO might only talk about orgasms, but - I found some stuff. Most I kinda already knew - some however, interesting.
I came upon two religious sites - of course they were the tamest... One was this chicky who was a newlywed - and she bemoaned the fact she and hubby weren't having the typical newlywed sex over the sink, on the patio, in the car, etc, etc. Turned out - not all are the same - and bottomline was "that's Ok... but talking about it helps." <-- See? Oral sex.
To all of you single creatures whom are admired by those in a relationship - haha. Studies indicate those in relationships have sex 74% more than their single friends (33%)...
Pfizer did a study that indicated folks were having sex well into their 70's. Duh. I mean hell, Pfizer has made millions and millions on Viagra... what did one think their study would show? "Nope, ya might as well cut that bastard off once the Social Security checks arrive." Be for real.
Eight-three percent of Italian chicks would rather have a romp in the hay than cuddle. You American chickies were 63% romp, 37% cuddle. We in America, generally doink after 5.5 dates. Hmmm. Does that mean halfway through the sixth date? Sweden was the swiftest at four dates.. Penis length, on a scale of 1-10 (with 10 being most important) held an importance of 6.2 for American women... the Italian women again - were atop @ 6.3%...
Twenty-six % of Americans have jumped in the sack for a threesome - whilst 43% of you chickies have had a Lesbian jaunt. Hmmm..
How many men have you chicks slept with? Brazilians led the way with 10 or more, Americans next at nine - and Indonesian chicks picking up the rear at two. Coincidentally, the top Brazilian pickup line is "You're delicious" and for us mundane Americans would you believe it's still "Don't I know you from somewhere?".. The number one all around pickup line is "You have beautiful eyes."
Eight percent of American have sex daily (holy shit)... Twelve percent have had sex at work..(Good Lord there's a few here I really think I'd turn my head the other way!... Victor you preverted bastard, there's a few you'd glare at closely too.. Ok, mebbe you're right again Mr. Talkback.)...
Bob. Aha. Studies found American chicks lead the way with 46% of em owning Bob. Brits close behind at 45%. And we men are the pigs with the great libido?
Americans, on average, lose their virginity at age 16. Indonesia again - the mild ones, age 21. One study indicated if parents DON'T talk about sex freely, their kids tend to be the most sexually active. (Our rule as a kid was "finish everything you start...except sex"... hehe)...
So... that's sex in the city.. or the country... or a quick study.. (Didn't read anything about quickies.)... I guess, standing from afar, it'd be best to live in Italy - walk up to a Swedish girl and tell her she has beautiful eyes - and marry the Indonesian. Happy day. Your's orally, Victor
Thursday, April 20, 2006
Take this blog and.......
well... taking a day off... Tired... Old... Went to casino last night (sorry Gracie for no phone call... friggin car started veering right on the 435 bridge, I didn't know whatinthehell happened... next thing I know, I'm in the Ameristar parking lot... I think it really has something to do with that checkenginelight...)
Fun... Fun was had... Had $80 to my name... Cashed it all in for chips... Uh oh, no money for a cold one.. not to worry, won $10 pretty fast... cashed those chips in.. saw an old softball cronie.. bought us each beers... Won a few more dollars.. bought us each beers... wons a few more dollars.. bought us each a beer... losta buncha dollars... wanted a beer...
Got down to $20 (til payday - Friday)... scrambled my way back to $100 total.. left.. a good time.. Stopped at gas station to purchase Maynard's "honey do's".. cigar, two liter, toilet paper.. was home in bed snoozing round midnight.. PS: don't ever buy cheapass toilet paper from gas station (steal roll from their b-room instead if poss)... that cheap stuff, one good constitution and two rolls are gone. (WELL HELL, you asked for it.. I mean a blog is supposed to be about EVERYTHING)...
taking the blog day off.. May this day come as you want..... whether that's to get laid, take a nap, take a walk, relax and do nothing, whatever.. I hope it is good for you.....
Toodles, Victor
Fun... Fun was had... Had $80 to my name... Cashed it all in for chips... Uh oh, no money for a cold one.. not to worry, won $10 pretty fast... cashed those chips in.. saw an old softball cronie.. bought us each beers... Won a few more dollars.. bought us each beers... wons a few more dollars.. bought us each a beer... losta buncha dollars... wanted a beer...
Got down to $20 (til payday - Friday)... scrambled my way back to $100 total.. left.. a good time.. Stopped at gas station to purchase Maynard's "honey do's".. cigar, two liter, toilet paper.. was home in bed snoozing round midnight.. PS: don't ever buy cheapass toilet paper from gas station (steal roll from their b-room instead if poss)... that cheap stuff, one good constitution and two rolls are gone. (WELL HELL, you asked for it.. I mean a blog is supposed to be about EVERYTHING)...
taking the blog day off.. May this day come as you want..... whether that's to get laid, take a nap, take a walk, relax and do nothing, whatever.. I hope it is good for you.....
Toodles, Victor
Wednesday, April 19, 2006
It's terminal.......
The light knock came upon the door - and since it was "his house" the Doc emerged on through without waiting for me to open the examining room door...
"Victor..." he deadpanned "I am afraid due to complications from your shortpeckeritis, I must inform you you've only got 20, maybe 25, 30 max years left to live."
Gulp. I knew it was coming, dark at the end of the tunnel. Holy shit, whadda I do now?
Reflect first I guess... Among some of my life's accomplishments: I went UP the courthouse steps in a Jeep... I put Maple Syrup in Stinger's Johnson's Baby Shampoo cause he usedta wake us up at 6am every day... Back to the courthouse steps: I gave a speech at our Homecoming rally my senior year --> right after, walked up to the Juvenile authorities 'cause my 90 day license suspension (yes, drinking and driving) was over - they kinda did a double take as they had been watching thru the windows...
I coached a college Women's Softball Team to a perfect record. I'd coached basketball and done a decent job, so they said "hey Vic, we're gonna start a softball team - can you help?" Sure.. We didn't have a pitcher - and that's a pretty important thing in softball - our record was perfect, but it was 0 and 18, not 18 and 0. Oops.
I've purposely smoked numerous cigarettes to give my teeth this kinda corn colored yeller effect - thus running off two wives in the process... I'm a professional bowler (Entered bigass tournament here years ago.. really sucked.. but, 30 days after tourney they mailed me a $5 check for finishing in the bottom 50.. that STILL makes me a professional, they paid me.)
I've had more jobs than fingers and toes combined. That wasn't an early goal, but once I got to two hands, one foot I figured 'what the hey' - go for it.
I supposed I oughta throw these in:... We had the biggest airline hub here so it was kinda a gimme - but I was the US leader in cargo sales for Braniff at one time... The college women's basketball team I coached did win the small college state championship... My dad said he'd gimme $50 if I ran for Student Council President, so I did.. no competition, won that... I quit a job on principle, started my own company, made $60 the first month, we were living off of it by the third month (wouldn't you know, a few years later it came down to a vote to see if we should sell or keep the business... I lost 1 to 1.)... I really think I'm the most proudest of my relationship with Maynard from ages 0 thru 13. We literally spent hour upon hour daily doing one on one father-son things. That relationship has encountered a pretty decent jolt the last few years - but I believe in U-turns - so I continue to pray.
And now the fessin' up portion of my life: When I was 9 mom gave me $5 to buy a Christmas gift for my cousin. Dropped me off at Antioch Shopping Center. I bowled $4 worth of it and bought a crappyass $1 bottle of cologne.... I once farted my junior year, only it wasn't just a fart - had to go home... Yes, I was one of the seven Sigma Nu's who pushed the campus security guard's (Barney Fife lookalike/act alike) Cushmann 3-wheeler down the hill 200 yards into the tree. Forgive me Father for I have sinned..
Canardly. I canardly wait for the remaining 20, 25, 30 years. (I once walked into a pet store.. dog after dog in cages for sale.. labels below cage.. Beagle.. German Shepherd.. Labrador Retreiver.. Canardly.. I'd never heard of Canardly so I fell for their trap... "what kinda dog is a Canardly" I eyeballed the clerk.. "we Canardly tell ourselves" she said heartily laughing at my expense. Bitch.)
So....... I've had a glorious past. And I do look forward to the future. More stories to be created, more good times to be had... then one day I will pee my pants and forget my name. I hope, as I fight to beat this dreaded disease shortpeckeritis, I get to touch as many people that have touched me over the years. Thanks for being there...... bye bye now......
lemme see... 30 years times 365 days = 10,950 days... holy SHIT, I better make this a good one!
"Victor..." he deadpanned "I am afraid due to complications from your shortpeckeritis, I must inform you you've only got 20, maybe 25, 30 max years left to live."
Gulp. I knew it was coming, dark at the end of the tunnel. Holy shit, whadda I do now?
Reflect first I guess... Among some of my life's accomplishments: I went UP the courthouse steps in a Jeep... I put Maple Syrup in Stinger's Johnson's Baby Shampoo cause he usedta wake us up at 6am every day... Back to the courthouse steps: I gave a speech at our Homecoming rally my senior year --> right after, walked up to the Juvenile authorities 'cause my 90 day license suspension (yes, drinking and driving) was over - they kinda did a double take as they had been watching thru the windows...
I coached a college Women's Softball Team to a perfect record. I'd coached basketball and done a decent job, so they said "hey Vic, we're gonna start a softball team - can you help?" Sure.. We didn't have a pitcher - and that's a pretty important thing in softball - our record was perfect, but it was 0 and 18, not 18 and 0. Oops.
I've purposely smoked numerous cigarettes to give my teeth this kinda corn colored yeller effect - thus running off two wives in the process... I'm a professional bowler (Entered bigass tournament here years ago.. really sucked.. but, 30 days after tourney they mailed me a $5 check for finishing in the bottom 50.. that STILL makes me a professional, they paid me.)
I've had more jobs than fingers and toes combined. That wasn't an early goal, but once I got to two hands, one foot I figured 'what the hey' - go for it.
I supposed I oughta throw these in:... We had the biggest airline hub here so it was kinda a gimme - but I was the US leader in cargo sales for Braniff at one time... The college women's basketball team I coached did win the small college state championship... My dad said he'd gimme $50 if I ran for Student Council President, so I did.. no competition, won that... I quit a job on principle, started my own company, made $60 the first month, we were living off of it by the third month (wouldn't you know, a few years later it came down to a vote to see if we should sell or keep the business... I lost 1 to 1.)... I really think I'm the most proudest of my relationship with Maynard from ages 0 thru 13. We literally spent hour upon hour daily doing one on one father-son things. That relationship has encountered a pretty decent jolt the last few years - but I believe in U-turns - so I continue to pray.
And now the fessin' up portion of my life: When I was 9 mom gave me $5 to buy a Christmas gift for my cousin. Dropped me off at Antioch Shopping Center. I bowled $4 worth of it and bought a crappyass $1 bottle of cologne.... I once farted my junior year, only it wasn't just a fart - had to go home... Yes, I was one of the seven Sigma Nu's who pushed the campus security guard's (Barney Fife lookalike/act alike) Cushmann 3-wheeler down the hill 200 yards into the tree. Forgive me Father for I have sinned..
Canardly. I canardly wait for the remaining 20, 25, 30 years. (I once walked into a pet store.. dog after dog in cages for sale.. labels below cage.. Beagle.. German Shepherd.. Labrador Retreiver.. Canardly.. I'd never heard of Canardly so I fell for their trap... "what kinda dog is a Canardly" I eyeballed the clerk.. "we Canardly tell ourselves" she said heartily laughing at my expense. Bitch.)
So....... I've had a glorious past. And I do look forward to the future. More stories to be created, more good times to be had... then one day I will pee my pants and forget my name. I hope, as I fight to beat this dreaded disease shortpeckeritis, I get to touch as many people that have touched me over the years. Thanks for being there...... bye bye now......
lemme see... 30 years times 365 days = 10,950 days... holy SHIT, I better make this a good one!
Tuesday, April 18, 2006
Mick said......
Ti--ii--ii--ime is on our side... yes it is...
Hmmmm... is it? At 53, reckon I have to ask... At any age, we have to ask... Priorities... What are yours? I have friends who occasionally drive by here - and the priorities are diverse: of course family... friends... brothers and sisters.. bowling... jewelry... Virginia... kids... grandkids... Mexico.. Sports teams.. clubbing.. etc..
I recently babbled "for me at this age, climbing the ladder means to get one's self up high enough to get something off a shelf." Am I bound for hell because I don't give first priority to my work?
Yesterday, Gracie and I sat on the porch talking about trees of all things.. Her landlord deemed one "dead...gotta cut it down" and we were admiring the greenery that was sneeking out towards the bottom of the tree... I mentioned "we had a pear tree in the back yard... it was dead for 5 whole years and it came back to life... if you don't believe me ask my mom, dad or Vanda." Of course they're deceased - I've never joked like that (they would love it)- but.. point here is - my nuclear family is gone - thus it naturally can't be a priority...
My son is in a trying stage... that should be a priority - but he has no interest (at this point) in assisting himself.. ya can't boost someone upon a horse if they ain't gots no interest in riding. You're liable to get spurred if you try.
Ok, so it's not work, it's not immediate family... Gracie and I've found by not being 24/7 it's enhanced our relationship.. Gracie is a priority in my life, and I'm thankful for that...
I've always heard "got to get your priorities straight... in order." What if I ain't sure what they are? Do I have to have just one? Several?
If I absolutely HAD to list another priority - sadly it's that I simply make it to the next paycheck without running my billfold completely empty. Gas jumped up to $2.73/gallon last night. I drive 70 miles round trip. Sometimes it's hard to have Georges left in the wallet prior to pay day.
It is a priority to not allow ugly shit affect my mood. Kinda like a boxer that is getting the crap beaten outta him - daring his opponent "come on... hit me again... harder next time." I try not to talk about people (except when Kendra burps at work.. I think everyone should know she does that frequently, and it ain't very ladylike..)..
Happiness is a priority... Thus... I don't go home.. it's depressing.. I go to Gracies.. I go to the Casino.. I walk Jersey... I read the paper.. eat breakfast out... occasionally go to friend's house.. a pretty damn simple life..
As I leave these footprints during the resta my life... I'd like to: contact friends I haven't seen in awhile... take some weekends away with friends to immerse ourselves in happiness... go somewhere to have fun with my son because we each wanted to... continue the goal of an upbeat attitude... get lost for a weekend with Gracie... absorb myself with family - at a gathering such as The Mill...
I guess if I hadta have a priority, it's be to be able to blog "happily ever after."
For some, CEO is the priority.. another notch up.. proficiency in a hobby/sport... finding a mate... getting that three-car garage... raising snotnotes... having snotnoses... frequently spoiling "grand" snotnoses... a lush, green yard with no friggin dandelions..
Me.... I guess at this point, I just wanna stay happy. I ain't gotta bad batting average at that - thanks to folks like you. What's your priority? When you wake up.. do you address your priority(ies) for the day? Nomme.. i just wanna smile, and hopefully have smiles winged back at me..
Hmmmm... is it? At 53, reckon I have to ask... At any age, we have to ask... Priorities... What are yours? I have friends who occasionally drive by here - and the priorities are diverse: of course family... friends... brothers and sisters.. bowling... jewelry... Virginia... kids... grandkids... Mexico.. Sports teams.. clubbing.. etc..
I recently babbled "for me at this age, climbing the ladder means to get one's self up high enough to get something off a shelf." Am I bound for hell because I don't give first priority to my work?
Yesterday, Gracie and I sat on the porch talking about trees of all things.. Her landlord deemed one "dead...gotta cut it down" and we were admiring the greenery that was sneeking out towards the bottom of the tree... I mentioned "we had a pear tree in the back yard... it was dead for 5 whole years and it came back to life... if you don't believe me ask my mom, dad or Vanda." Of course they're deceased - I've never joked like that (they would love it)- but.. point here is - my nuclear family is gone - thus it naturally can't be a priority...
My son is in a trying stage... that should be a priority - but he has no interest (at this point) in assisting himself.. ya can't boost someone upon a horse if they ain't gots no interest in riding. You're liable to get spurred if you try.
Ok, so it's not work, it's not immediate family... Gracie and I've found by not being 24/7 it's enhanced our relationship.. Gracie is a priority in my life, and I'm thankful for that...
I've always heard "got to get your priorities straight... in order." What if I ain't sure what they are? Do I have to have just one? Several?
If I absolutely HAD to list another priority - sadly it's that I simply make it to the next paycheck without running my billfold completely empty. Gas jumped up to $2.73/gallon last night. I drive 70 miles round trip. Sometimes it's hard to have Georges left in the wallet prior to pay day.
It is a priority to not allow ugly shit affect my mood. Kinda like a boxer that is getting the crap beaten outta him - daring his opponent "come on... hit me again... harder next time." I try not to talk about people (except when Kendra burps at work.. I think everyone should know she does that frequently, and it ain't very ladylike..)..
Happiness is a priority... Thus... I don't go home.. it's depressing.. I go to Gracies.. I go to the Casino.. I walk Jersey... I read the paper.. eat breakfast out... occasionally go to friend's house.. a pretty damn simple life..
As I leave these footprints during the resta my life... I'd like to: contact friends I haven't seen in awhile... take some weekends away with friends to immerse ourselves in happiness... go somewhere to have fun with my son because we each wanted to... continue the goal of an upbeat attitude... get lost for a weekend with Gracie... absorb myself with family - at a gathering such as The Mill...
I guess if I hadta have a priority, it's be to be able to blog "happily ever after."
For some, CEO is the priority.. another notch up.. proficiency in a hobby/sport... finding a mate... getting that three-car garage... raising snotnotes... having snotnoses... frequently spoiling "grand" snotnoses... a lush, green yard with no friggin dandelions..
Me.... I guess at this point, I just wanna stay happy. I ain't gotta bad batting average at that - thanks to folks like you. What's your priority? When you wake up.. do you address your priority(ies) for the day? Nomme.. i just wanna smile, and hopefully have smiles winged back at me..
Monday, April 17, 2006
Due to the underwhelming response......
Plans for a nationwide Ben Dover Day have been cancelled... I moon all you sons-a-bitches...
Instead... I cast my vote for "Violate Me" day... (NO YOU SICKOS... there is no correlation between Ben Dover and Violate Me day.. READ ON.)
This could be done annually.. and if deemed popular - we could change it to like every 3rd Friday in months with 31 days... and if that weren't frequent enough, maybe we could do it monthly... what the hey...
The idea is... regardless if you're in a relationship or not.. on the designated day - you getta coupon.... and with this coupon, you can walk up to anyoneyouwant, hand it over and say "violate me." They, the beautiful one, are forced (by decree of the law) to oblige.
I mean holy shit, who among us (INCLUDING you longterm marrieds) ain't seen someone - taken a deep breath and gone "Oh my gosh... oh my gosh..." We all have our likes and dislikes - what's attractive to one may not be to the other - but again, we've all had that moment where we internally talk to ourselves and say "wow... you're gorgeous... would you mind violating me for a few hours?"... Haven't we? (Or am I some kinda preverted puppy in la-la land?)
Since this act would have the blessing of Congress.. it would not be considered infidelity... Think of the enhancement of self esteem for us ugly ones... It would end prostitution... Porn would decrease... Priests would have a lot less to listen to in confession.. All the mental anguish caused by infidelity would be kapoot.. it has all kindsa upside...
Sure, it could cause pregnancies - but.. look at that on the bright side.. we need less of a gap between the ugly and the pretty - so.. it could be a good thing if unwanted pregnancies happened.. The world'd probably be a better place if there were less beautiful people, and less ugly people. I mean what the hey, mutts are the best dogs in the world.
What's in it for the beautful people? Who cares..er, I mean, they get the contentment of knowing they helped an ugly person increase their self image - and ya know, it may be that they might run across an occasional ug and think "hey, that wasn't a bad lay."
The idea might appall some... but for others the day will come where "honey.. I'm going out for 'Violate me' " would become as common as "honey... I'm going to the store - back in a few."
Anyone in favor of "Violate Me" day?
And Gracie (said with love)... there is absolutely ZERO truth to the rumor this has anything to do with Felicia, the 28 yr old blackjack dealer.)
Instead... I cast my vote for "Violate Me" day... (NO YOU SICKOS... there is no correlation between Ben Dover and Violate Me day.. READ ON.)
This could be done annually.. and if deemed popular - we could change it to like every 3rd Friday in months with 31 days... and if that weren't frequent enough, maybe we could do it monthly... what the hey...
The idea is... regardless if you're in a relationship or not.. on the designated day - you getta coupon.... and with this coupon, you can walk up to anyoneyouwant, hand it over and say "violate me." They, the beautiful one, are forced (by decree of the law) to oblige.
I mean holy shit, who among us (INCLUDING you longterm marrieds) ain't seen someone - taken a deep breath and gone "Oh my gosh... oh my gosh..." We all have our likes and dislikes - what's attractive to one may not be to the other - but again, we've all had that moment where we internally talk to ourselves and say "wow... you're gorgeous... would you mind violating me for a few hours?"... Haven't we? (Or am I some kinda preverted puppy in la-la land?)
Since this act would have the blessing of Congress.. it would not be considered infidelity... Think of the enhancement of self esteem for us ugly ones... It would end prostitution... Porn would decrease... Priests would have a lot less to listen to in confession.. All the mental anguish caused by infidelity would be kapoot.. it has all kindsa upside...
Sure, it could cause pregnancies - but.. look at that on the bright side.. we need less of a gap between the ugly and the pretty - so.. it could be a good thing if unwanted pregnancies happened.. The world'd probably be a better place if there were less beautiful people, and less ugly people. I mean what the hey, mutts are the best dogs in the world.
What's in it for the beautful people? Who cares..er, I mean, they get the contentment of knowing they helped an ugly person increase their self image - and ya know, it may be that they might run across an occasional ug and think "hey, that wasn't a bad lay."
The idea might appall some... but for others the day will come where "honey.. I'm going out for 'Violate me' " would become as common as "honey... I'm going to the store - back in a few."
Anyone in favor of "Violate Me" day?
And Gracie (said with love)... there is absolutely ZERO truth to the rumor this has anything to do with Felicia, the 28 yr old blackjack dealer.)
Sunday, April 16, 2006
Happy Easter to you all....
May your day be filled with plenty of smiles... I hope you enjoy the weather as much as I am... (Already walked over a mile... it ain't even 10am... feel like maybe another mile later... or a nap... ain't decided..)
Easter IS a joyous time... Of course the MAIN reason... as well as all getting fancified.. the little ones in their new, adorable dresses... Bonnets... Family... a general upbeatedness... yippee... have a great one...... Victor
Easter IS a joyous time... Of course the MAIN reason... as well as all getting fancified.. the little ones in their new, adorable dresses... Bonnets... Family... a general upbeatedness... yippee... have a great one...... Victor
Saturday, April 15, 2006
I see.. .a bad moon a risin'....
"Mooning is the act of displaying one's bare buttocks by lowering the back side of one's trousers and underpants, usually without exposing the genitals. Mooning is used in some cultures to express protest, scorn, disrespect, or provocation. It can also be done for shock value or fun." (I stole that on some site from this ole engine Al invented... figured I'd better give props or risk the Deputy come knockin' on ma door.)
"A court in Maryland recently determined that mooning is a form of expression protected by the constitutional right of freedom of speech." HELL YEAH! You GO Baltimore!
Ya got any good moon stories? I'd loveta hear.....
One score and seven years ago (GD Victor, you know it's been longer ago than that)... Ok, maybe he's right.. LONG TIME AGO, our social group known as the Sigma Nu's... would get all hooped up... drive to campus... park infronta the girl's dorms... choreograph a straight line... turn around.. and moon. Dunno why, but we did. Parents from Ankeny to Abilene musta been proud of how their hard earned dollars were being utilized to ripen our brains...
Longabout 20 years or so ago, my wonderful (and I'm being serious) ex mother-inlaw decided to take a lap on the newly opened I-435 Highway... a beltway all around Kansas City made to avoid the heavily traveled North-South, East-West Interstates... YIPEEE! IT'S OPEN!... So, Rose Marie and Bill take off... Some three minutes into their drive, a passing car had four lads with their butts a pressed up agin' the window - mooning them. "Pressed Ham" I guess it's known as... "I'M NEVER GETTING ON I-435 AGAIN!" Rose Marie chimed...
I'm here today to pay tribute to my last moon... January 22nd, 1989... Super Bowl, 49'ers versus the Bengals.. Now I didn't give a shit one way or tanuther who won, but my buddy Dale was SO damn arrogant about how the Bengals were gonna "SMASH MONTANA" I hadta do sumpin. Twelve to fourteen of us were to gather, drink, be merry and watch the game...
"Honey?"... "Yes Victor."... "Would you c'mere? And bring a Magic Marker?"... "Why?"... "Come on, PLEASE?"... There I was, sprawled, ready to have ma cheeks 'painted'... "On this'n (pointing to left cheek) I want 'BENGALS'.. in REAL BIG letters."... "Victor, you're a moron."... "Aw come one, PLEASE??... and on this'n (pointing to right cheek) I want "SUCK" in EVEN BIGGER letters!"..... With some chagrin, the duty was carried out....
First quarter, boring as hell... 3-0 9'ers.. Nope... not yet... Halftime, 3-3.. WILL I EVER GET MY CHANCE?... Traded field goals again in the 3rd quarter.. BORING.. Fuggers run a kick back 93 yards for a touchdown...SHIT.. Dale's more and more obnoxious, and louder and louder, grating on everyone's nerves... THEN....... WE SCORE!!!! Yes, but that only ties it... Huh uh, timing ain't right...
In the 4th,they kick a field goal, lead 16-13. Shit shit. I begin to sweat, visions of drippy BENGALS SUCK running down my ass... Finally... FINALLY... Montana hits Taylor... 20-16!!! I THINK THIS IS IT... I've got some anti-freeze in me.. the timing is perfect.. So... there I go.. right up infronta the t-vee infronta 9 close friends (the 6 others I knew only 'so-so') I get on all fours... unsnap... drop trow... point the hiney in the direction of Dale.. and proudly boast BENGALS SUCK! Gosh I hope I didn't have skid marks..
The 9'ers did hang on for the win.. By Valentine's Day the writing had worn off.. but I for one (and maybe a couple of others) will have BENGALS SUCK forever etched...
I ain't mooned since. I'm not so honed in on societal ways that it's completely ruled out for the future... In fact, I'd moon George Bush.. Why just the other day at work, I almost mooned this chick. I mean HOW ARE WE TO KNOW WHEN YOU'RE PMS'N?.. Two minutes after eight.. I hollered her name over the cubicle wall to ask a question and I was met with a Nurse Wratchett sounding "WWWWHHHHATTTTTT?!!!" Excuuuuse me! I shoulda.. I allowed it to piss me off for the resta the day... Had we been in Maryland, I think I woulda dropped ma drawers right then and there...
It's rumored the moon was "invented" in England by Mr. Ben Dover in 1672. In fact, I think we oughta have a Holiday in his honor for mooning. Think of the benefits.. There'd be no bullets in drive bys... Bar brawls would be innocent and harmless.. Road rage would now only involve Windex... ER's would be empty (lessen'd you happened to be a goin' 75 MPH and meet up with a June Bug or Yield sign or sumpin).. Who needs President's Day? MLK Day? I mean, Labor Day, WTF? I want Ben Dover Day. I bet'd fly in Baltimore..
To you sicko, preverted fetish-types out there... This was NOT written tongue-in-cheek.
"A court in Maryland recently determined that mooning is a form of expression protected by the constitutional right of freedom of speech." HELL YEAH! You GO Baltimore!
Ya got any good moon stories? I'd loveta hear.....
One score and seven years ago (GD Victor, you know it's been longer ago than that)... Ok, maybe he's right.. LONG TIME AGO, our social group known as the Sigma Nu's... would get all hooped up... drive to campus... park infronta the girl's dorms... choreograph a straight line... turn around.. and moon. Dunno why, but we did. Parents from Ankeny to Abilene musta been proud of how their hard earned dollars were being utilized to ripen our brains...
Longabout 20 years or so ago, my wonderful (and I'm being serious) ex mother-inlaw decided to take a lap on the newly opened I-435 Highway... a beltway all around Kansas City made to avoid the heavily traveled North-South, East-West Interstates... YIPEEE! IT'S OPEN!... So, Rose Marie and Bill take off... Some three minutes into their drive, a passing car had four lads with their butts a pressed up agin' the window - mooning them. "Pressed Ham" I guess it's known as... "I'M NEVER GETTING ON I-435 AGAIN!" Rose Marie chimed...
I'm here today to pay tribute to my last moon... January 22nd, 1989... Super Bowl, 49'ers versus the Bengals.. Now I didn't give a shit one way or tanuther who won, but my buddy Dale was SO damn arrogant about how the Bengals were gonna "SMASH MONTANA" I hadta do sumpin. Twelve to fourteen of us were to gather, drink, be merry and watch the game...
"Honey?"... "Yes Victor."... "Would you c'mere? And bring a Magic Marker?"... "Why?"... "Come on, PLEASE?"... There I was, sprawled, ready to have ma cheeks 'painted'... "On this'n (pointing to left cheek) I want 'BENGALS'.. in REAL BIG letters."... "Victor, you're a moron."... "Aw come one, PLEASE??... and on this'n (pointing to right cheek) I want "SUCK" in EVEN BIGGER letters!"..... With some chagrin, the duty was carried out....
First quarter, boring as hell... 3-0 9'ers.. Nope... not yet... Halftime, 3-3.. WILL I EVER GET MY CHANCE?... Traded field goals again in the 3rd quarter.. BORING.. Fuggers run a kick back 93 yards for a touchdown...SHIT.. Dale's more and more obnoxious, and louder and louder, grating on everyone's nerves... THEN....... WE SCORE!!!! Yes, but that only ties it... Huh uh, timing ain't right...
In the 4th,they kick a field goal, lead 16-13. Shit shit. I begin to sweat, visions of drippy BENGALS SUCK running down my ass... Finally... FINALLY... Montana hits Taylor... 20-16!!! I THINK THIS IS IT... I've got some anti-freeze in me.. the timing is perfect.. So... there I go.. right up infronta the t-vee infronta 9 close friends (the 6 others I knew only 'so-so') I get on all fours... unsnap... drop trow... point the hiney in the direction of Dale.. and proudly boast BENGALS SUCK! Gosh I hope I didn't have skid marks..
The 9'ers did hang on for the win.. By Valentine's Day the writing had worn off.. but I for one (and maybe a couple of others) will have BENGALS SUCK forever etched...
I ain't mooned since. I'm not so honed in on societal ways that it's completely ruled out for the future... In fact, I'd moon George Bush.. Why just the other day at work, I almost mooned this chick. I mean HOW ARE WE TO KNOW WHEN YOU'RE PMS'N?.. Two minutes after eight.. I hollered her name over the cubicle wall to ask a question and I was met with a Nurse Wratchett sounding "WWWWHHHHATTTTTT?!!!" Excuuuuse me! I shoulda.. I allowed it to piss me off for the resta the day... Had we been in Maryland, I think I woulda dropped ma drawers right then and there...
It's rumored the moon was "invented" in England by Mr. Ben Dover in 1672. In fact, I think we oughta have a Holiday in his honor for mooning. Think of the benefits.. There'd be no bullets in drive bys... Bar brawls would be innocent and harmless.. Road rage would now only involve Windex... ER's would be empty (lessen'd you happened to be a goin' 75 MPH and meet up with a June Bug or Yield sign or sumpin).. Who needs President's Day? MLK Day? I mean, Labor Day, WTF? I want Ben Dover Day. I bet'd fly in Baltimore..
To you sicko, preverted fetish-types out there... This was NOT written tongue-in-cheek.
Friday, April 14, 2006
I knew I shouldn'ta.....
I had an English teacher in HS that simply refused to watch the news... or read the newspaper... "It's all so very depressing... there's nothing but bad, evil." I flipped on the CNN dot com thingy this morning - and true: tornadoes in Eastern Iowa.. Bear kills 6 yr old child in Tennessee... Moussaoui tells the court "no regrets" over 9/11... Worshippers in Egypt attacked by knife-wielding men... Eleven kidnapped/killed in Iraq...
Help me please... I needa feel good... Actually, thankfully, the feel good preceded me reading the (bad) news... A very influential person in our town has passed. No, that is certainly not a feel good for him to have passed --- but the reflection of his life's work is very definitely a feel good. By influential - everyone's first thought is money... No.. not money... Influential in his service to youth..
Manley was my Elementary PE teacher when we first moved to town a long, long time ago.. He was fun... serious in his work... and a very decent motivator... I was fortunate to hang around town long enough for my stepson to go the same Elementary School where Manley was by then the Principal...
I mainly knew the middle third of his life... teacher.. principal... the fact that he didn't 'take summers off' - no, he was the director of a kid's camp... officiated sports... The final third of his life he started his own day camp and operated that for many years... Rich by association with youth I bet he'd say..
Last night I learned the first 3rd of his life.. His father was tragically killed in an auto crash when Manley was 7... His mother, due to poor health, was forced to become institutionalized when he was 11... His sisters had families to go live with.. Manley pretty much raised himself from that point on..
It alarms me that kids today have two loving, caring parents and can't get the hell outta bed to do for themselves - or even worse - simply don't appreciate what they have in their lives....
Manley, at 11 would sometimes come up short financially for his groceries.. and sure, he got hungry.. He'd walk to the diner in the small town - and it was there a he'd grab a meal and "intend to pay you back next week."... The town assisted in raising him... The diner incident happened with greater frequency - then World War II happened - Manley went overseas...
With every check he received from the Government, he'd mail half back to the diner in his hometown, and the other half to be split amongst his sisters.. This too was repeated until the owners of the diner finally proclaimed "STOP... you've more than paid us off...THANK YOU!!!"...
With all the yuck in society - the Manleys of the world never make CNN, or headline the local news... Should. Feels good to remember.
Help me please... I needa feel good... Actually, thankfully, the feel good preceded me reading the (bad) news... A very influential person in our town has passed. No, that is certainly not a feel good for him to have passed --- but the reflection of his life's work is very definitely a feel good. By influential - everyone's first thought is money... No.. not money... Influential in his service to youth..
Manley was my Elementary PE teacher when we first moved to town a long, long time ago.. He was fun... serious in his work... and a very decent motivator... I was fortunate to hang around town long enough for my stepson to go the same Elementary School where Manley was by then the Principal...
I mainly knew the middle third of his life... teacher.. principal... the fact that he didn't 'take summers off' - no, he was the director of a kid's camp... officiated sports... The final third of his life he started his own day camp and operated that for many years... Rich by association with youth I bet he'd say..
Last night I learned the first 3rd of his life.. His father was tragically killed in an auto crash when Manley was 7... His mother, due to poor health, was forced to become institutionalized when he was 11... His sisters had families to go live with.. Manley pretty much raised himself from that point on..
It alarms me that kids today have two loving, caring parents and can't get the hell outta bed to do for themselves - or even worse - simply don't appreciate what they have in their lives....
Manley, at 11 would sometimes come up short financially for his groceries.. and sure, he got hungry.. He'd walk to the diner in the small town - and it was there a he'd grab a meal and "intend to pay you back next week."... The town assisted in raising him... The diner incident happened with greater frequency - then World War II happened - Manley went overseas...
With every check he received from the Government, he'd mail half back to the diner in his hometown, and the other half to be split amongst his sisters.. This too was repeated until the owners of the diner finally proclaimed "STOP... you've more than paid us off...THANK YOU!!!"...
With all the yuck in society - the Manleys of the world never make CNN, or headline the local news... Should. Feels good to remember.
Thursday, April 13, 2006
Oh I could hide, neath the wings...
Hello Boss?... It’s me… Vic… you know.. Cubicle 17, placement 3A… I’m just callin’ to tellya I gotta bad case of Spring Fever and I won’t be in today… or for awhile.. It’s some bad shit… I’ll be back when I’m all better…
KAWACK!!!!!! Oh YES, YES… Straight down the fairway… I’m only a pitching wedge away from the green…. Saaaa-weeet!! Hey, that fountain by the lake is overspraying down there… let’s walk thru it and enjoy the mist… Hey look – a rainbow… Heaven.. this is heaven…
Ain’t it awesome to be travelin’ these country roads? HEY LOOK.. there’s some rotten bastard getting’ the morning paper in his undies… sum’bitch isa livin’ my dream… OH look at the trees… all of ‘em sproutin’ now… GOOD LORD.. did you see those cattle? Right out there infronta God and everyone… Do you think they have affairs… mount or be mounted by others? Ya know… get tired of the same ole cud? Do you think they can tell which ones their related to? (or care?) Hehe… HOLY SHIT… GD, GD, GD.. I ALMOST nailed Bambi… Whew.. We almost had a freezer fulla venison.. (Victor, if you don’t eat fish, do you really think you’d eat deer?.. STFU, this is my dream)..
Shhhh… looook… the bobber is gently bobbing… he’s snackin’ to see if he wants to make my nightcrawler his dinner… come on baby.. snag that thing… please, please be pan size… (Victor, remember, you don’t even eat fish…. Oh yeah.. sorry… but hey badbreath, maybe I DO in my dreams)… YES, YES, he ran, I GOT ‘EM, I GOT ‘EM… GRAB THE NET!
Parking by the old town square and walking amongst the old houses is the best… Look at those flower gardens… There’s the widow O’Shaunnesy… I bet her mom planted those tulips 75 years ago… I LOVE that wraparound porch… Can’t you just see a horse and buggy teamed up to a post infronta that one?... Gosh, ain't them Chrisanth... Chrysantha... Crisanthe... them yeller ones pretty?
This symphony was a good idea… Geez look at the geezers here… Do you think one day we’ll do this with regularity too? Well… reckon anything done with regularity at that age is a good thing… I wonder if they take their little blue pills.. come here and try to get ole Lillie Belle all hyped up.. go home and make their own music?
The river and friends… (and beer)… HEY SMITTY, turn up the music… Ahhhh, life in a lounge chair… shades… hat… continuous sounds of water rushing by.. this is THE PLACE to forget all ills…
VICTOR! VICTOR! Whaaaa…huhhhh? HERE COMES THE BOSS.. ohh shit… hey look, I drooled a little, hehe.. DAMN that was a nice dream… I’d rather be justabout anywhere besides here… Daydream believer (and a homecoming queen?)… Oh I could hide, neath the wings of the bluebird as she sings… the six oclock alarm would never ring… NO WAY, Neil Diamond sang THAT too?
HI BOSS... HOWTHEHECK AREYOU? Good Vic, you're awfully chipper today... YESSIR BOSS, been lookin' over the numbers... it's lookin' damn good... That's great Vic, you guys keep your nose to the grindstone.. (Victor, you're an asshole... you've got your nose somewhere else.. eh, someones gotta do it since Gene left.. hehe)..
WHAT? WHAT? WHAT? Thirty of us at work put in ten bucks apiece on the Powerball.. and SOMEONE IN MISSOURI WON?.... Cheer up, sleepy Jean, Oh, what can it mean
To a daydream believer and a homecoming queen?
KAWACK!!!!!! Oh YES, YES… Straight down the fairway… I’m only a pitching wedge away from the green…. Saaaa-weeet!! Hey, that fountain by the lake is overspraying down there… let’s walk thru it and enjoy the mist… Hey look – a rainbow… Heaven.. this is heaven…
Ain’t it awesome to be travelin’ these country roads? HEY LOOK.. there’s some rotten bastard getting’ the morning paper in his undies… sum’bitch isa livin’ my dream… OH look at the trees… all of ‘em sproutin’ now… GOOD LORD.. did you see those cattle? Right out there infronta God and everyone… Do you think they have affairs… mount or be mounted by others? Ya know… get tired of the same ole cud? Do you think they can tell which ones their related to? (or care?) Hehe… HOLY SHIT… GD, GD, GD.. I ALMOST nailed Bambi… Whew.. We almost had a freezer fulla venison.. (Victor, if you don’t eat fish, do you really think you’d eat deer?.. STFU, this is my dream)..
Shhhh… looook… the bobber is gently bobbing… he’s snackin’ to see if he wants to make my nightcrawler his dinner… come on baby.. snag that thing… please, please be pan size… (Victor, remember, you don’t even eat fish…. Oh yeah.. sorry… but hey badbreath, maybe I DO in my dreams)… YES, YES, he ran, I GOT ‘EM, I GOT ‘EM… GRAB THE NET!
Parking by the old town square and walking amongst the old houses is the best… Look at those flower gardens… There’s the widow O’Shaunnesy… I bet her mom planted those tulips 75 years ago… I LOVE that wraparound porch… Can’t you just see a horse and buggy teamed up to a post infronta that one?... Gosh, ain't them Chrisanth... Chrysantha... Crisanthe... them yeller ones pretty?
This symphony was a good idea… Geez look at the geezers here… Do you think one day we’ll do this with regularity too? Well… reckon anything done with regularity at that age is a good thing… I wonder if they take their little blue pills.. come here and try to get ole Lillie Belle all hyped up.. go home and make their own music?
The river and friends… (and beer)… HEY SMITTY, turn up the music… Ahhhh, life in a lounge chair… shades… hat… continuous sounds of water rushing by.. this is THE PLACE to forget all ills…
VICTOR! VICTOR! Whaaaa…huhhhh? HERE COMES THE BOSS.. ohh shit… hey look, I drooled a little, hehe.. DAMN that was a nice dream… I’d rather be justabout anywhere besides here… Daydream believer (and a homecoming queen?)… Oh I could hide, neath the wings of the bluebird as she sings… the six oclock alarm would never ring… NO WAY, Neil Diamond sang THAT too?
HI BOSS... HOWTHEHECK AREYOU? Good Vic, you're awfully chipper today... YESSIR BOSS, been lookin' over the numbers... it's lookin' damn good... That's great Vic, you guys keep your nose to the grindstone.. (Victor, you're an asshole... you've got your nose somewhere else.. eh, someones gotta do it since Gene left.. hehe)..
WHAT? WHAT? WHAT? Thirty of us at work put in ten bucks apiece on the Powerball.. and SOMEONE IN MISSOURI WON?.... Cheer up, sleepy Jean, Oh, what can it mean
To a daydream believer and a homecoming queen?
Wednesday, April 12, 2006
Reflections......
Some things are tougher for some than others... What some can do with ease and grace - others get all ouchy inside in preparation for their attempt... I've bored you before with the fact I dropped outta Cub Scouts right before Boy Scouts began - simply because I had to do a good deed for the church --- and our family had never gone to church... I had no idea how to act once I entered their doors... What to say to the preacher... etc... (Oh what a formative point in my life... I'm certain my mother had no idea why I quit - but she was on my team, for whatever I wanted... so.. I became an average ole jock... In youth, jocks win, geeks lose... In adulthood, jocks lose, geeks win... my bad!)
Part of dealing with something that is tough for one is the reaction of the person on the other end... I'd been to the dentist... Didn't eat all day for fear of them finding little sawed up chunks of bacon between a couplea molars... Finally out of the office, one tooth pulled, one tooth fixed.. multiple shots to the jaw... Walked into Mickey D's... I was starving.. Older lady met me with a wonderful smile... Probably working in part because she had to - and in part because she wanted to surround herself with youth.. anyways, I say "Aaaaahhhhhdddd lllliiiiiikkkeeee" OH SHIT.. I hadn't talked to anyone since I'd gotten the shots.. My mouth was numb as hell.. I couldn't form words... One of the most embarrassing moments in my life.. Again, as I stared at her warm, understanding smile "aaaa chhheeeezzzzzzeeebbbbbuuuuurrrger and ff-ffff-fffreeenccchhhh friiiieeess please." Got the please out fast cause I knew I was done... Her reflection went a long way in easing my fear, letting me know - hey, it's ok.
My entire family spent a vast portion of their lives in plays - getting up infronta others and speaking/acting as if it were a cinch. Nomme. They begged me to be in a play.. huh uh... no.. nada... (Finally I gave in... was a deaf mute in one they were in.. hehe.. knew my lines before anyone!)... When my father passed - I knew I had to speak at his funeral.. Had is probably not the correct word... I wanted to speak at my father's funeral.. I was scared shitless.. The reflection that assisted me on this one was the ex.. Well, it really wasn't her - it was the two valium she gave me.. but the point being - she could sense - or knew in advance this would be tough for me.. thus, she made it easier..
Usedta own a little mom and pop air cargo delivery business. One of the customers I had was in charge of taking the umpires crap to and from the airport upon completion of a baseball series... So... drug my son with me.. he was all of six - but already a HUGE Major League Baseball fan.. A huge Bo Jackson fan.. But for him to meet them in person? No way.. He'd turn his head away shyly... in hopes of not having to speak..
Sitting in between the Royal's lockeroom and the Visitor's lockeroom - my son and I sat on the floor to await the que to come grab the umpire's junk... Wally Joiner was a fav of ours as well... So Wally walks out... He doesn't come up to Maynard with the corny "HEY LITTLE MAN, GIVE ME FIVE"... no... he senses Maynards uncomfortableness... comes down to our level - sits 6-7 feet on the other side of Maynard.. and asks "how's it goin?"... Way cool. Maynard surely had to think "hey, he's just like me."... "Fine.. how are you?"... Wally was a good reflection during a tough time..
Niece and I attended the Royal's annual banquet one year.. Kirk Gibson was being honored for "World Series Hero"... Valerie loved Kirk Gibson... She was maybe eleven at the time.. After dinner.. after the awards... finally there would be time to get an up close picture... "Mr. Gibson... can I take a picture of you?"... "yeah"... So, niece steps back a few feet.. she's literally shaking so bad as this is a difficult thing for her.. it was hard enough to speak to him.. even harder for her to hold the camera steady to snap... after some time in trying to steady the camera - Gibson looks at her and yells "COME ON... HURRY UP"... Kirk wasn't a very good reflection - he was SOMEBODY - and didn't wanna deal with us NOBODIES.. Thank goodness for the Wally Joiners of the world..
Another diddie I was alway uncomfortable with was the receiving line at funerals. What to say... I guess it was my mother's funeral that eased this fear.. it doesn't matter what is said... "I'm sorry" is simply perfect.. just the fact one shows concern enough to be there... in this instance - it's the reflector who has the tough job - and sure, it's tough to try to make comfort for them in their loss - but just being there helps to do so.. Calm the reflector..
As I was driving to work this morn... I sensed a pressure to "write... be funny".. I know this ain't been funny.. But, I sense that you (if you're still here) reading this - possess the ability to react however you wanna. I appreciate that. From life's stories and lessons - I hope whenever I sense someone is doing something that's difficult - I hope to be a Joiner and notta Gipson. Life's all about reflections.. I got to thinking as I thought about "back in the day when I owned a mom and pop air cargo delivery company" and how old that sounded.. But, that's ok.. Our "back in the days" formulate who we are, and how we reflect. Today, in some sense, is your future "back in the day".. Happy reflections..... Victor
Part of dealing with something that is tough for one is the reaction of the person on the other end... I'd been to the dentist... Didn't eat all day for fear of them finding little sawed up chunks of bacon between a couplea molars... Finally out of the office, one tooth pulled, one tooth fixed.. multiple shots to the jaw... Walked into Mickey D's... I was starving.. Older lady met me with a wonderful smile... Probably working in part because she had to - and in part because she wanted to surround herself with youth.. anyways, I say "Aaaaahhhhhdddd lllliiiiiikkkeeee" OH SHIT.. I hadn't talked to anyone since I'd gotten the shots.. My mouth was numb as hell.. I couldn't form words... One of the most embarrassing moments in my life.. Again, as I stared at her warm, understanding smile "aaaa chhheeeezzzzzzeeebbbbbuuuuurrrger and ff-ffff-fffreeenccchhhh friiiieeess please." Got the please out fast cause I knew I was done... Her reflection went a long way in easing my fear, letting me know - hey, it's ok.
My entire family spent a vast portion of their lives in plays - getting up infronta others and speaking/acting as if it were a cinch. Nomme. They begged me to be in a play.. huh uh... no.. nada... (Finally I gave in... was a deaf mute in one they were in.. hehe.. knew my lines before anyone!)... When my father passed - I knew I had to speak at his funeral.. Had is probably not the correct word... I wanted to speak at my father's funeral.. I was scared shitless.. The reflection that assisted me on this one was the ex.. Well, it really wasn't her - it was the two valium she gave me.. but the point being - she could sense - or knew in advance this would be tough for me.. thus, she made it easier..
Usedta own a little mom and pop air cargo delivery business. One of the customers I had was in charge of taking the umpires crap to and from the airport upon completion of a baseball series... So... drug my son with me.. he was all of six - but already a HUGE Major League Baseball fan.. A huge Bo Jackson fan.. But for him to meet them in person? No way.. He'd turn his head away shyly... in hopes of not having to speak..
Sitting in between the Royal's lockeroom and the Visitor's lockeroom - my son and I sat on the floor to await the que to come grab the umpire's junk... Wally Joiner was a fav of ours as well... So Wally walks out... He doesn't come up to Maynard with the corny "HEY LITTLE MAN, GIVE ME FIVE"... no... he senses Maynards uncomfortableness... comes down to our level - sits 6-7 feet on the other side of Maynard.. and asks "how's it goin?"... Way cool. Maynard surely had to think "hey, he's just like me."... "Fine.. how are you?"... Wally was a good reflection during a tough time..
Niece and I attended the Royal's annual banquet one year.. Kirk Gibson was being honored for "World Series Hero"... Valerie loved Kirk Gibson... She was maybe eleven at the time.. After dinner.. after the awards... finally there would be time to get an up close picture... "Mr. Gibson... can I take a picture of you?"... "yeah"... So, niece steps back a few feet.. she's literally shaking so bad as this is a difficult thing for her.. it was hard enough to speak to him.. even harder for her to hold the camera steady to snap... after some time in trying to steady the camera - Gibson looks at her and yells "COME ON... HURRY UP"... Kirk wasn't a very good reflection - he was SOMEBODY - and didn't wanna deal with us NOBODIES.. Thank goodness for the Wally Joiners of the world..
Another diddie I was alway uncomfortable with was the receiving line at funerals. What to say... I guess it was my mother's funeral that eased this fear.. it doesn't matter what is said... "I'm sorry" is simply perfect.. just the fact one shows concern enough to be there... in this instance - it's the reflector who has the tough job - and sure, it's tough to try to make comfort for them in their loss - but just being there helps to do so.. Calm the reflector..
As I was driving to work this morn... I sensed a pressure to "write... be funny".. I know this ain't been funny.. But, I sense that you (if you're still here) reading this - possess the ability to react however you wanna. I appreciate that. From life's stories and lessons - I hope whenever I sense someone is doing something that's difficult - I hope to be a Joiner and notta Gipson. Life's all about reflections.. I got to thinking as I thought about "back in the day when I owned a mom and pop air cargo delivery company" and how old that sounded.. But, that's ok.. Our "back in the days" formulate who we are, and how we reflect. Today, in some sense, is your future "back in the day".. Happy reflections..... Victor
Monday, April 10, 2006
Mild disappointment....
You creeps (said with love).... Notta oneayou came up with a Studid Human Trick you've seen... I was sittin' back all anxious... If you thinka one, holler... we'd loveta read...
Its stinks where I work.......
Oh come on Victor, everyone – at some point, hates where they work…..
Talkbacker, you ignorant slut. I mean it STINKS where I work.. We’ve got a friggin’ skunk in our rafters.. or in a backroom.. or somewhere.. it STINKS where I work…
But since you started it – yes, there are occasions where your version of the word ‘stink’ fits.. From the point where whatshername decided ‘girls night out’ should be three nights a week – this place has been my one constant in keeping me mentally upright. No, it ain’t perfect – but I’ve worked at a lotta worse places..
I abhor self importance. We come into this world naked, all pretty much the same – but for whatever reason thoughts are imbedded in some folks “hey, I’m better than you… watch it, I will trample you.. don’t waste my time, I will dispose of you.. I don’t react to things like normal people do – and because I am special, that validates my reaction.”
I hada lady tell me once “my time is more important than your time.” She truly saw from those shoes. Is there any word other than bitch that fits here?
Victor, you just called your work “the thing that kept you mentally upright” why the bitching now? Eh, I dunno. If one types it, is it considered bitching? I don’t use oxygen to bitch (ie, bitch aloud).. I bitch here. Oh, and FU very much, this is my blog, and if I wanna bitch, I WILL bitch. Got it…… bitch?
We have this hideous loud speaker thingy here at work… it reminds me a whole lot of Franklin Elementary school… it’s announced when it’s 8am.. and it’s announced when it’s 5pm.. Occasionally I expect them to announce “Bus 37 is here now.” Or… for the kindergartners “The Duck bus has arrived.” I can live with all that… They pretty much leave me alone… They pay me with regularity… and this place is well run financially – I don’t think we’re going anywhere.
So…. I’ll bitch s’more! We have a couplea folks.. individually, quite nice actually… but, I worry about their carcass’s becoming bottom-heavy.. you’ll be on the phone.. or working on something and hear the loudspeaker “so-and-so, please call extension such-n-such.” This ain’t a building the size of the Pentagon. You can traverse it in roughly 40 seconds. GD, if I want to speak to someone and they ain’t answering their phone, I get my lazy ass up and go find them. Why would I want to interrupt what 49 other people are doing?..... Victor, that’s a pretty trivial gripe… SCREW YOU… it’s the point… “I am up here.. I can’t find you… you down there.. thus, I will summons you to attend to me… My work/time is more important than your work, time.”
I love team sports. They teach so…. Yes, you can have an awesome shortstop.. but you take away the other players and that shortstop ain’t shit. Next time you need to talk to someone here.. take the field by yourself as the shortstop and try to get three outs.. You want to find a teammate? Get off your all important (not to mention growing) ass and find them.
Ok, better now… Victor, since you’ve bored us with your disgust for self-important folks at work – can you share some good crap about it?
Hey, for once talkbacker, you make some sense. (don’t let it go to your head however, in general your opine usually stinks!) Yes, I love hearing about other’s lives at work.. I appreciate the differences in us all – and I love to watch/listen about others and what perks them… I love passion in one’s work and beliefs.. and I just love the playing field – and I’m aware when the center fielder ain’t here – we miss them. This ain’t a manufacturing facility – but in a way it is… We are each dependent upon the other… if one role isn’t fulfilled, the boat don’t float. Getting the boat to float is rewarding when it’s a team effort.
So, ceptin’ for a few with the belief “I am better than you” this place is really an Ok place to work. Right now, however, it really really does literally stink. I think I’ll sneak out for the resta the day and try out that ritzy new golf course up the way… “Oh caddie.. OH CADDIE… I am ready now... please wash my balls.”
Talkbacker, you ignorant slut. I mean it STINKS where I work.. We’ve got a friggin’ skunk in our rafters.. or in a backroom.. or somewhere.. it STINKS where I work…
But since you started it – yes, there are occasions where your version of the word ‘stink’ fits.. From the point where whatshername decided ‘girls night out’ should be three nights a week – this place has been my one constant in keeping me mentally upright. No, it ain’t perfect – but I’ve worked at a lotta worse places..
I abhor self importance. We come into this world naked, all pretty much the same – but for whatever reason thoughts are imbedded in some folks “hey, I’m better than you… watch it, I will trample you.. don’t waste my time, I will dispose of you.. I don’t react to things like normal people do – and because I am special, that validates my reaction.”
I hada lady tell me once “my time is more important than your time.” She truly saw from those shoes. Is there any word other than bitch that fits here?
Victor, you just called your work “the thing that kept you mentally upright” why the bitching now? Eh, I dunno. If one types it, is it considered bitching? I don’t use oxygen to bitch (ie, bitch aloud).. I bitch here. Oh, and FU very much, this is my blog, and if I wanna bitch, I WILL bitch. Got it…… bitch?
We have this hideous loud speaker thingy here at work… it reminds me a whole lot of Franklin Elementary school… it’s announced when it’s 8am.. and it’s announced when it’s 5pm.. Occasionally I expect them to announce “Bus 37 is here now.” Or… for the kindergartners “The Duck bus has arrived.” I can live with all that… They pretty much leave me alone… They pay me with regularity… and this place is well run financially – I don’t think we’re going anywhere.
So…. I’ll bitch s’more! We have a couplea folks.. individually, quite nice actually… but, I worry about their carcass’s becoming bottom-heavy.. you’ll be on the phone.. or working on something and hear the loudspeaker “so-and-so, please call extension such-n-such.” This ain’t a building the size of the Pentagon. You can traverse it in roughly 40 seconds. GD, if I want to speak to someone and they ain’t answering their phone, I get my lazy ass up and go find them. Why would I want to interrupt what 49 other people are doing?..... Victor, that’s a pretty trivial gripe… SCREW YOU… it’s the point… “I am up here.. I can’t find you… you down there.. thus, I will summons you to attend to me… My work/time is more important than your work, time.”
I love team sports. They teach so…. Yes, you can have an awesome shortstop.. but you take away the other players and that shortstop ain’t shit. Next time you need to talk to someone here.. take the field by yourself as the shortstop and try to get three outs.. You want to find a teammate? Get off your all important (not to mention growing) ass and find them.
Ok, better now… Victor, since you’ve bored us with your disgust for self-important folks at work – can you share some good crap about it?
Hey, for once talkbacker, you make some sense. (don’t let it go to your head however, in general your opine usually stinks!) Yes, I love hearing about other’s lives at work.. I appreciate the differences in us all – and I love to watch/listen about others and what perks them… I love passion in one’s work and beliefs.. and I just love the playing field – and I’m aware when the center fielder ain’t here – we miss them. This ain’t a manufacturing facility – but in a way it is… We are each dependent upon the other… if one role isn’t fulfilled, the boat don’t float. Getting the boat to float is rewarding when it’s a team effort.
So, ceptin’ for a few with the belief “I am better than you” this place is really an Ok place to work. Right now, however, it really really does literally stink. I think I’ll sneak out for the resta the day and try out that ritzy new golf course up the way… “Oh caddie.. OH CADDIE… I am ready now... please wash my balls.”
Sunday, April 09, 2006
Hodgepodge
I was actually trying to find a word for hodgepodge... mish-mash.. I know the word, but don't know the spelling.. I typed in Yahoo 'define curmudgeron'... I thought that was a mixture of junk, this and that.. Well, it talked to me and said "Did you mean curmudgeon?"... No, I meant curmudgeron... But I looked at their word, curmudgeon, and it fits too... "a crusty, ill-tempered, and usually old man." Hehe
I read Hef turned 80 recently.. Says "I feel great.. the new 80 is like 40." Hef lives with THREE, count 'em THREE former playmates.. Hef, I'd say the new 80 is like 24.
This morning, I almost did it.... I've always wanted to walk into the gas station.. reply "Yes, I did have gas.. and I apologize if it was offensive.. can I have a pack of Basic Lights please?"
One of my former brother in laws saw me from across the way in the grocery store one day and hollered 'HEY VIC... I haven't seen you since you got outta prison." The rotten bastard... but I too loved it - and have used it several times since on other victims...
Co-worker pointed out the article on MSN about "men and their declining sex lives after fifty." Ahm, like I didn't already know that?
Article today on MSN about length of dating related to marriage followed by divorce.. I found it interesting when it said "Wanna guess which of type of pairs you're more likely to see in divorce court? Yep, the couple who couldn't keep their hands off each other. The more passionate the courtship, the less likely the marriage is to last," says Huston. After an overly idyllic courtship, these couples end up disillusioned, which often leads to marital problems. So, guys keep your pecker in your pants and gals keep your undies on for a long time I reckon. (Gee, I'm sure that will stop folks.)
Gotta run to the store with Gracie.......... MORE LATER!
I read Hef turned 80 recently.. Says "I feel great.. the new 80 is like 40." Hef lives with THREE, count 'em THREE former playmates.. Hef, I'd say the new 80 is like 24.
This morning, I almost did it.... I've always wanted to walk into the gas station.. reply "Yes, I did have gas.. and I apologize if it was offensive.. can I have a pack of Basic Lights please?"
One of my former brother in laws saw me from across the way in the grocery store one day and hollered 'HEY VIC... I haven't seen you since you got outta prison." The rotten bastard... but I too loved it - and have used it several times since on other victims...
Co-worker pointed out the article on MSN about "men and their declining sex lives after fifty." Ahm, like I didn't already know that?
Article today on MSN about length of dating related to marriage followed by divorce.. I found it interesting when it said "Wanna guess which of type of pairs you're more likely to see in divorce court? Yep, the couple who couldn't keep their hands off each other. The more passionate the courtship, the less likely the marriage is to last," says Huston. After an overly idyllic courtship, these couples end up disillusioned, which often leads to marital problems. So, guys keep your pecker in your pants and gals keep your undies on for a long time I reckon. (Gee, I'm sure that will stop folks.)
Gotta run to the store with Gracie.......... MORE LATER!
Friday, April 07, 2006
No... please don't stoop that low.. GD you're grasping...
STUPID HUMAN TRICKS
Ok, maybe I'm grasping... THERE'S NO FRIGGING MAYBE TO IT. You're being an idiot.. Why, you damn near switched your major in college to Journalism.. and you're writing about Stupid Human Tricks?
Uh huh... I think they're light.. There's enough seriousness in the world.. We need levity. No, not all the time, but sometimes...
As I started to write this.. I really thought I'd remember more.. Seems I've seen quite a few - and many unique.. Hell, each is unique... Our bodies all generally do what other bodies do - so.. it intrigues me when someone does something unique with their own bod....
Ok, go ahead and do your damn blog on Stupid Human Tricks.. I double-dog guarantee you won't have anyone over the age of 12 reading your stuff... Ok you asshole, I will write about it..
Stupid human tricks....
Of course, we must repeat Chuck's legacy of being able to tie his "member" in a knot. Had he not been forced, as a freshman fraternity pledge, to prove this rumor to not be false by the older brethren, I never woulda believed it. I believe. Let's just say he's limber. And no, I don't know his phone number now.
My cousin Darrell can clap one-handed. Damnedest thing you ever saw... He somehow gyrates his wrist, sends his remarkably flexible fingers down to touch his palm - and does it all with great speed - and it's a clap/clap/clap/clap/clap.
She'd kill me if she knew I were repeating... but, I've had a great life. One of them there ladies... She'd lay naked on her back in bed.. Her hands clasped to the headboard... She'd lift both legs in the air simultaneously - and upon their descent, each and every time there'd be a "puddy-fart". (Yes, I'm actually 53... but what the hey - it cracked me up each and every time.)
Onea my 5th grade snotnoses - back when I taught Elementary PE... Can't remember his name.. .but he'd close his left eye... snarl up his mouth... push/blow like hell internally, and he could actually get a baby squirt outta his right eye's tear duct. I, being the degreed Health professional, shoulda said "no snotnose.. please don't... that just ain't right.. you're gonna discombobulate something".. but NOOOOO, I laughed my ass off instead...
Again, I can't believe I'm 53 and telling this. (Oh GD Victor, you've been a freaking kid all your life, exactly WHO are you trying to fool here?)... Yeah, maybe you're right.. We usedta have Siga-ma-Nu contests to see who could lay on our back.. throw our legs up in the air (wearing our Levis)... take our Bic lighter.. fart, light the fart.. and see who could garner the biggest flame. I was quite talented, and rarely could any of the other assholes compete with me. I proudly had the black singed pants to prove it. Couldn't quite figure out exactly where it fit on my resume - but I considered it something to be proud of... And I'm not just blowing smoke.
See... that's all at this present time I remember...
This ain't really a stupid human trick - but when I was a fraternity pledge long ago (GD Victor, you're reliving your youth... YEAH? So what? Youthood was fun as hell!).. Anyways, fraternity swim meet. As a kid, I was the fair-skinned freckle-faced kid who got laughed at - at the local pool because I had to wear a T-Shirt or else risk getting burned like a lobster... I could swim, but that was about it.
"Victor, you're going to do the butterfly." You have fucking GOT to be kidding me. I've seen it, but I can't do it. Honest I think I'd sink. I'll dive, I'll do the backstroke... PLEASE not the butterfly... "Oh it's REAL easy... all ya gotta do is keep winding your arms around in circles over your head.. and with the resta your body, you just pretend like you're 'doinking'." You mean screwing? "Yeah, screwing.. the hips have the same motion..."
Well... at that time I was probably a veteran of about two total lays. But giving it the good ole Joe College try, what the hey... Stripped down to my trunks... Got up on the blocks... There in the bleachers.. probably forty of 'em I wanted to date.. and having to do this would surely wipe out the chance with 38 or 39 of 'em... BOOM the gun went off... NICE DIVE INTO THE WATER... I came up and looked peripherally.. hey, I was doing Ok... "Ok, arm circles... fuck" I told myself... "Arm circles... fuck".. It wasn't working.. I kept going deeper and deeper underwater.. Lengths and lengths behind the others... "Arm circles/fuck.. arm circles/fuck" I remember telling myself.. Then I had a thought.. I remember hearing (through the wall from my room in the frat house)"Harder Gibby... Harder...HARDER GIBBY... HARDER".. hehe.. So.. I tried harder... "Arm circles/fuck/HARDER VICTOR HARDER"... I snuck a peek into the bleachers - only to observe the veteran Sigma Nu Brethren unable to hold back their laughter as I flung my arms.. pretended to be doinking... I finally finished.. (Gosh, it doesn't usually take me this long!) Dead last, by a length of the pool. I think I skipped classes Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday of that week (which for me, was just about par for the course anyways)... So that was my stupid human trick - and I excelled at being stupid.
I would love to hear of oddities you might be aware of that some human can do that makes you laugh and blow milk outta your nostril...
Ok, maybe I'm grasping... THERE'S NO FRIGGING MAYBE TO IT. You're being an idiot.. Why, you damn near switched your major in college to Journalism.. and you're writing about Stupid Human Tricks?
Uh huh... I think they're light.. There's enough seriousness in the world.. We need levity. No, not all the time, but sometimes...
As I started to write this.. I really thought I'd remember more.. Seems I've seen quite a few - and many unique.. Hell, each is unique... Our bodies all generally do what other bodies do - so.. it intrigues me when someone does something unique with their own bod....
Ok, go ahead and do your damn blog on Stupid Human Tricks.. I double-dog guarantee you won't have anyone over the age of 12 reading your stuff... Ok you asshole, I will write about it..
Stupid human tricks....
Of course, we must repeat Chuck's legacy of being able to tie his "member" in a knot. Had he not been forced, as a freshman fraternity pledge, to prove this rumor to not be false by the older brethren, I never woulda believed it. I believe. Let's just say he's limber. And no, I don't know his phone number now.
My cousin Darrell can clap one-handed. Damnedest thing you ever saw... He somehow gyrates his wrist, sends his remarkably flexible fingers down to touch his palm - and does it all with great speed - and it's a clap/clap/clap/clap/clap.
She'd kill me if she knew I were repeating... but, I've had a great life. One of them there ladies... She'd lay naked on her back in bed.. Her hands clasped to the headboard... She'd lift both legs in the air simultaneously - and upon their descent, each and every time there'd be a "puddy-fart". (Yes, I'm actually 53... but what the hey - it cracked me up each and every time.)
Onea my 5th grade snotnoses - back when I taught Elementary PE... Can't remember his name.. .but he'd close his left eye... snarl up his mouth... push/blow like hell internally, and he could actually get a baby squirt outta his right eye's tear duct. I, being the degreed Health professional, shoulda said "no snotnose.. please don't... that just ain't right.. you're gonna discombobulate something".. but NOOOOO, I laughed my ass off instead...
Again, I can't believe I'm 53 and telling this. (Oh GD Victor, you've been a freaking kid all your life, exactly WHO are you trying to fool here?)... Yeah, maybe you're right.. We usedta have Siga-ma-Nu contests to see who could lay on our back.. throw our legs up in the air (wearing our Levis)... take our Bic lighter.. fart, light the fart.. and see who could garner the biggest flame. I was quite talented, and rarely could any of the other assholes compete with me. I proudly had the black singed pants to prove it. Couldn't quite figure out exactly where it fit on my resume - but I considered it something to be proud of... And I'm not just blowing smoke.
See... that's all at this present time I remember...
This ain't really a stupid human trick - but when I was a fraternity pledge long ago (GD Victor, you're reliving your youth... YEAH? So what? Youthood was fun as hell!).. Anyways, fraternity swim meet. As a kid, I was the fair-skinned freckle-faced kid who got laughed at - at the local pool because I had to wear a T-Shirt or else risk getting burned like a lobster... I could swim, but that was about it.
"Victor, you're going to do the butterfly." You have fucking GOT to be kidding me. I've seen it, but I can't do it. Honest I think I'd sink. I'll dive, I'll do the backstroke... PLEASE not the butterfly... "Oh it's REAL easy... all ya gotta do is keep winding your arms around in circles over your head.. and with the resta your body, you just pretend like you're 'doinking'." You mean screwing? "Yeah, screwing.. the hips have the same motion..."
Well... at that time I was probably a veteran of about two total lays. But giving it the good ole Joe College try, what the hey... Stripped down to my trunks... Got up on the blocks... There in the bleachers.. probably forty of 'em I wanted to date.. and having to do this would surely wipe out the chance with 38 or 39 of 'em... BOOM the gun went off... NICE DIVE INTO THE WATER... I came up and looked peripherally.. hey, I was doing Ok... "Ok, arm circles... fuck" I told myself... "Arm circles... fuck".. It wasn't working.. I kept going deeper and deeper underwater.. Lengths and lengths behind the others... "Arm circles/fuck.. arm circles/fuck" I remember telling myself.. Then I had a thought.. I remember hearing (through the wall from my room in the frat house)"Harder Gibby... Harder...HARDER GIBBY... HARDER".. hehe.. So.. I tried harder... "Arm circles/fuck/HARDER VICTOR HARDER"... I snuck a peek into the bleachers - only to observe the veteran Sigma Nu Brethren unable to hold back their laughter as I flung my arms.. pretended to be doinking... I finally finished.. (Gosh, it doesn't usually take me this long!) Dead last, by a length of the pool. I think I skipped classes Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday of that week (which for me, was just about par for the course anyways)... So that was my stupid human trick - and I excelled at being stupid.
I would love to hear of oddities you might be aware of that some human can do that makes you laugh and blow milk outta your nostril...
Dave....
The very first time I saw this guy I knew I liked him. His smile lit up the room. Excitement for each and every thing that came his way.. Back in the dinosaur days, we belonged to different fraternities - and at our sometimes backwards little liberal college - that was about the same relationship a blood would have with a crip.. Didn't matter - I liked him as a person - you simply couldn't help it.
Whilst we weren't close close friends - when our paths crossed there was always conversation - and he was the best friend to one of my best buds, Tip. Blood/Crip, Sigma Nu/Kappa Alpha, it didn't matter.
Dave was from the small town of Marionville, MO.. "Home of the grey squirrel" he'd proudly boast.. A real 'down home' kinda guy. He stepped onto the football team as a freshman in college and quickly gained the respect of the older fellers by knowing what to say/when. Still, very upbeat. A good teammate, a good friend. A pleasure to know.
Early this week, as Dave drove home from his teaching job - a 16 yr old was drag racing on I-35 - ran Dave into the median - across 4 lanes. Dave was ejected from his truck and died at the scene. Why?
Dave, like my sister, grabbed every ounce out of every day. Almost as if their subconscious knew the end. Why?
Please - suckup every ounce of every day... and please be safe in your car....
Whilst we weren't close close friends - when our paths crossed there was always conversation - and he was the best friend to one of my best buds, Tip. Blood/Crip, Sigma Nu/Kappa Alpha, it didn't matter.
Dave was from the small town of Marionville, MO.. "Home of the grey squirrel" he'd proudly boast.. A real 'down home' kinda guy. He stepped onto the football team as a freshman in college and quickly gained the respect of the older fellers by knowing what to say/when. Still, very upbeat. A good teammate, a good friend. A pleasure to know.
Early this week, as Dave drove home from his teaching job - a 16 yr old was drag racing on I-35 - ran Dave into the median - across 4 lanes. Dave was ejected from his truck and died at the scene. Why?
Dave, like my sister, grabbed every ounce out of every day. Almost as if their subconscious knew the end. Why?
Please - suckup every ounce of every day... and please be safe in your car....
1-800-BETS-OFF
Psyche..
Eww... Gambling is disgusting. Why would anyone want to go sit at a $3 Blackjack table where you can spend a whole evening on $40... Have scantily clad women wearing push-up bra's fetch you drinks whenever you want 'em... Smoke... Live band, no cover charge.. and have the possibility of walking out with $250 on your $40?
Ahm, me. It's my 'away'... It's my selfishness... The only person I can control is me - and in going to play blackjack.. I do that..
Maynard, each day as I walk in or outta the doors inquires "Where you goin'?"... Ahm, I'm 53, anywhere I want. And, oft times that's to the casino. I getta rush as I pull in the parking lot... The escalator is never fast enough to get me up to my seat at the table with 6 other folks I've prolly never seen in my life. (And if I don't like those 6, or if I don't like the dealer... I sneak over to another table.)
Yes, there are those occasions where I lose $40.. ATM another $40 to get the original $40 back.. and if beer is involved, sometimes I'll do it again. Yes, it's not a fun walk to the parking lot - but it's my choice - I generally have a blast... I usedta absorb myself in softball.. The comeraderie, the skill of the sport, the team meeting soda pops after... Blackjack is my softball at age 50-something.
There are also occasions where it's good... sometimes very good. One year - Christmas was tight... Within one week I won $300 twice and it enabled us to spoil Maynard and Denton greatly.. Another time, I almost got to $1000... hadta enlist the help of the lil Oriental security guard Choi to walk me to the car as a circle of questionable dudes saw me cash out.
Life. Blackjack. Softball. Rollercoasters. Ne'er an even keel. Like with gravity, what goes up - must come down. I know that in advance - and that helps. I love to sit the bench. Be it life, blackjack, softball, rollercoasters.
I hope each of you divest yourself in something selfish - and you're "big people" - sure, it's possible to do so without causing hurt to others. Whointhehell am I to spout advice after two failed marriages - but it's my firm belief EVERY person needs a little independence - a little selfish time. So... 1-800-BETS-ON.
Did I mention they pay you $15 if you bet $10 and you get a blackjack? Pardon the pun, to the Victor go the spoils. I'm spoiled. Not all the time, but when I wanna be. Happy day. YES, it's the WEEKEND!
Eww... Gambling is disgusting. Why would anyone want to go sit at a $3 Blackjack table where you can spend a whole evening on $40... Have scantily clad women wearing push-up bra's fetch you drinks whenever you want 'em... Smoke... Live band, no cover charge.. and have the possibility of walking out with $250 on your $40?
Ahm, me. It's my 'away'... It's my selfishness... The only person I can control is me - and in going to play blackjack.. I do that..
Maynard, each day as I walk in or outta the doors inquires "Where you goin'?"... Ahm, I'm 53, anywhere I want. And, oft times that's to the casino. I getta rush as I pull in the parking lot... The escalator is never fast enough to get me up to my seat at the table with 6 other folks I've prolly never seen in my life. (And if I don't like those 6, or if I don't like the dealer... I sneak over to another table.)
Yes, there are those occasions where I lose $40.. ATM another $40 to get the original $40 back.. and if beer is involved, sometimes I'll do it again. Yes, it's not a fun walk to the parking lot - but it's my choice - I generally have a blast... I usedta absorb myself in softball.. The comeraderie, the skill of the sport, the team meeting soda pops after... Blackjack is my softball at age 50-something.
There are also occasions where it's good... sometimes very good. One year - Christmas was tight... Within one week I won $300 twice and it enabled us to spoil Maynard and Denton greatly.. Another time, I almost got to $1000... hadta enlist the help of the lil Oriental security guard Choi to walk me to the car as a circle of questionable dudes saw me cash out.
Life. Blackjack. Softball. Rollercoasters. Ne'er an even keel. Like with gravity, what goes up - must come down. I know that in advance - and that helps. I love to sit the bench. Be it life, blackjack, softball, rollercoasters.
I hope each of you divest yourself in something selfish - and you're "big people" - sure, it's possible to do so without causing hurt to others. Whointhehell am I to spout advice after two failed marriages - but it's my firm belief EVERY person needs a little independence - a little selfish time. So... 1-800-BETS-ON.
Did I mention they pay you $15 if you bet $10 and you get a blackjack? Pardon the pun, to the Victor go the spoils. I'm spoiled. Not all the time, but when I wanna be. Happy day. YES, it's the WEEKEND!
Thursday, April 06, 2006
Ok, I give up.......
It'll take a few extra clicks.. but if you want really good reading, checkout Lisa's comment on Of Mice & Men..... much better'n anything penned here!
Of drinks and men....
For those who want a good read... a) whyinthehell are you here in the first place?! and b)scroll to Ms. Lisa's verbal cantata below (ie, click 'comment' on the Thankless Jobs one...) Somehow, in listening to the fun those ladies have - the camaraderie they share - it helps me (at least mentally) stay a little younger. Joy - thanks for reading/sharing as well -enjoyed!
Yes, it is my understanding too Lisa is the World Record Holder for jello shots in one evening. I listened to the story on break which began "and I get home, and my sister comes running out of the house in a shirt with no pants on.....".... and this story continued for quite some time - and I finally interrupted with "yeah, but all this STILL doesn't explain the 'no pants' part!"... (Oh, and don't get mad at sis.. she truly says great things about you...)
Memories from my own "foggy days" when I didn't have a mortgage, I didn't worry about finding a comparable job at age 53 if I lost this one:
Marriage numero uno.... It was probably after a softball game.. who knows... but I drove home - I'd been married all of three weeks.. parked in my parent's driveway... sadly... thought I was home...
Gracie relates the story about a party and "the first man down" ie, too wobbly to stay awake.. well.. as he snored.. they gotta hot dog bun... placed his "hotdog" in it.. and then poured ketchup allover it. How convenient to awaken to breakfast in bed.
The night we shaved off Chuck's eyebrow. His left one. (Perhaps the male version of "penis envy"... Chuck is the fraternity brother that could.. yes... tie his thingy in a knot....
Close your ears/eyes if you ain't had breakfast... The night wife numero uno had her sorority sisters over... Twenty of 'em... My buddy Tip and I were the only males in sight... They rapidly went from "hey look at me gussied up in my dinner dress" to slobbering fools in no time.. thanks, in large part, to the wicked combination of Koolaid and Grain Alcohol. Women scattered allover the house, and sure, a few of them semi-uppity... One of 'em reached her quota - barfed.. barfed.. and barfed s'more.. Wanting to be an impressive host to the uppity ones, I whispered to Tip "watch this."... Walked to the door.. "C'MERE GABE...C'MERE BOY"... eww, but I'll never forget it... and besides, who can afford dog food on a college budget?
There's no disputing my waistline is now rounder than it usedta be.. but.. I've never considered myself round like a dartboard. Senior year in HS. Parents outta town. Surprise surprise - everyone is at my house. Clay, the onere little shit, launches a dart in my direction. I'm sitting on the sofa.. next thing I know I look and there's a dart sticking outta my knee. The rotten bastard. No, I didn't wing it back at him - but I think I knicked him once a year or so later in an outdoor bottle rocket "dodgeball" game. hehe.
Softball tournament, Plattsburg, MO. Sadly, two days in a row a homeless looking lady in a ratty old dress strolled through - scoured the parking lots, trash barrels for aluminum cans. The third day of the tournament, it's rumored an impression was done of her - dress and all by a drunken lefthanded frecklefaced no good from Liberty. I slightly recall it. And screw you, I've got decent legs if I say so myself!
The girls all get prettier at closing time, or so the song says. Abouta year ago, I was at my favorite local watering hole. It's my favorite because - in addition to watching the young punks do as I usedta do - occasionally an old fart will wander in. Seated at the bar, and old fart lady sat next to me. Generally, this is about the only way I can meet a chick at a bar - if she sits right next to me... I ain't the kind to stroll up to a table and announce "Heavy Penguins".. (you know, icebreakers)... Anyways.. I was saddened when this lady sat down beside me... Good Lord she wanted to talk too.. I did that.. but there were ZERO intentions/emotions for her at all. Simply - not my type. Well... as the clock ticked... as the draws were poured/consumed... longabout ten minutes before close I leaned over and tried to kiss her.. SUMBITCH, she leaned back away from me! How deflating! I guess the message is how skewed our behavior comes..
Believe me, I've been skewed. Probably too many times in my life... I've never hurt anyone.. I've had fun... I'm sure I'll do it again... Some stick their nose up and call it 'sad'. Eh, I dunno. Again, if you don't hurt anyone.. if you don't do it nightly... I say poo-poo. I call it fun. Fun is good.
Remember, use your brain cells today - for tomorrow ya might not have 'em.
Yes, it is my understanding too Lisa is the World Record Holder for jello shots in one evening. I listened to the story on break which began "and I get home, and my sister comes running out of the house in a shirt with no pants on.....".... and this story continued for quite some time - and I finally interrupted with "yeah, but all this STILL doesn't explain the 'no pants' part!"... (Oh, and don't get mad at sis.. she truly says great things about you...)
Memories from my own "foggy days" when I didn't have a mortgage, I didn't worry about finding a comparable job at age 53 if I lost this one:
Marriage numero uno.... It was probably after a softball game.. who knows... but I drove home - I'd been married all of three weeks.. parked in my parent's driveway... sadly... thought I was home...
Gracie relates the story about a party and "the first man down" ie, too wobbly to stay awake.. well.. as he snored.. they gotta hot dog bun... placed his "hotdog" in it.. and then poured ketchup allover it. How convenient to awaken to breakfast in bed.
The night we shaved off Chuck's eyebrow. His left one. (Perhaps the male version of "penis envy"... Chuck is the fraternity brother that could.. yes... tie his thingy in a knot....
Close your ears/eyes if you ain't had breakfast... The night wife numero uno had her sorority sisters over... Twenty of 'em... My buddy Tip and I were the only males in sight... They rapidly went from "hey look at me gussied up in my dinner dress" to slobbering fools in no time.. thanks, in large part, to the wicked combination of Koolaid and Grain Alcohol. Women scattered allover the house, and sure, a few of them semi-uppity... One of 'em reached her quota - barfed.. barfed.. and barfed s'more.. Wanting to be an impressive host to the uppity ones, I whispered to Tip "watch this."... Walked to the door.. "C'MERE GABE...C'MERE BOY"... eww, but I'll never forget it... and besides, who can afford dog food on a college budget?
There's no disputing my waistline is now rounder than it usedta be.. but.. I've never considered myself round like a dartboard. Senior year in HS. Parents outta town. Surprise surprise - everyone is at my house. Clay, the onere little shit, launches a dart in my direction. I'm sitting on the sofa.. next thing I know I look and there's a dart sticking outta my knee. The rotten bastard. No, I didn't wing it back at him - but I think I knicked him once a year or so later in an outdoor bottle rocket "dodgeball" game. hehe.
Softball tournament, Plattsburg, MO. Sadly, two days in a row a homeless looking lady in a ratty old dress strolled through - scoured the parking lots, trash barrels for aluminum cans. The third day of the tournament, it's rumored an impression was done of her - dress and all by a drunken lefthanded frecklefaced no good from Liberty. I slightly recall it. And screw you, I've got decent legs if I say so myself!
The girls all get prettier at closing time, or so the song says. Abouta year ago, I was at my favorite local watering hole. It's my favorite because - in addition to watching the young punks do as I usedta do - occasionally an old fart will wander in. Seated at the bar, and old fart lady sat next to me. Generally, this is about the only way I can meet a chick at a bar - if she sits right next to me... I ain't the kind to stroll up to a table and announce "Heavy Penguins".. (you know, icebreakers)... Anyways.. I was saddened when this lady sat down beside me... Good Lord she wanted to talk too.. I did that.. but there were ZERO intentions/emotions for her at all. Simply - not my type. Well... as the clock ticked... as the draws were poured/consumed... longabout ten minutes before close I leaned over and tried to kiss her.. SUMBITCH, she leaned back away from me! How deflating! I guess the message is how skewed our behavior comes..
Believe me, I've been skewed. Probably too many times in my life... I've never hurt anyone.. I've had fun... I'm sure I'll do it again... Some stick their nose up and call it 'sad'. Eh, I dunno. Again, if you don't hurt anyone.. if you don't do it nightly... I say poo-poo. I call it fun. Fun is good.
Remember, use your brain cells today - for tomorrow ya might not have 'em.
Tuesday, April 04, 2006
Three dollars and eighty-two cents....
I love "The Lake." By the remote chance you've stumbled onto this blog and you live outsidea the Missouri area - we hicks here call The Lake of the Ozarks - "The Lake." We fill up our two lane highways every Friday, every year once it turns 60 degrees or so.... We repeat the procedure all Summer - and into the early Fall until virtually the first school bell rings.. Tradition.
Everyone's been - everyone has stories.. the lucky ones have a 2nd house there.. the even luckier ones have their primary house there. There's something about a large body of water that brings out the best in people...
The wise old fishermen take their Jon Boats out early to fish before the big rigs get on the water... The yuppies come out in full force mid-morning in their tri-hull "look I'm from Johnson County" (sorry Catom) bigass things that create a wake so large it would knock a sumo wrestler off a jet ski...
Noonish, the families jump on their pontoons and weave across the channel looking for a nice ride and a path of least resistance and a place to safely dive off into the lake.. maybe BBQ too...
After the Johnson County yuppies get hungry and pull back into the dock to hunt down a Sushi bar.. their kids steal the boat keys and head to Party Cove. There, liquor is downed very fast - the more that is drank, the more selected items of clothing come off to expose abs of steel and boobs by Dr. Smithton, along with a few moon shots. I pity the fat kid and the A cup gal.
No one, repeat, no one goes to bed "untired" at the lake. Hell, if the nerves don't get you from "GD Herbert, those waves are gonna capsize us" - the walks up and down the steep hills to the boat dock will. You simply go go go and forget about being tired until you sitdown at night...
My sister. I'm biased of course - but she was one of the neatest ladies on the planet. The cog to our family. The smile you always needed. The right confidence boost at the perfect time. As gooda sense of humor as Steve Martin. (She usedta get on elevators with her boss.. look at the crowd sharing the elevator.. and spit out "Oh THANK YOU, THANK YOU for pretending not to recognize her." Who was she? Vanda's boss, that's all.. Another person like you and I - but it left 'em scratchin' their heads with "whothehell was that?".......
Anyways, Vanda had an A-Frame at the lake.. Wondrous times we shared there.. Fourth of July nights perched in big ole chairs looking out her length-of-the-house glass window at Tan-Tara's Fireworks show... Terrific BBQ'ing.. Family... The best...
Vanda always had something for everyone... especially the little ones...
When "Maynard" was 3, she bought a nifty 18" tall wading pool to put on the deck to occupy the little turds time.. His older stepbrother Denton would join in as well... Late one Sunday afternoon - it was time for the procession back to our abodes - as work beckoned for all Monday.. My father put his foot edge of the wading pool to let all the water out so we could put it back in storage and Maynard simply didn't understand that. He harkened "YOU STUPID IDIOT... WASTE HIM DENT"... I shoulda taken it as a sign - instead I laughed... Age three I'm talking.
Tragedy struck, Vanda passed with breast cancer in 1999... A year or two after - I'd asked her widow if our family could come for a weekend... Sure, to enjoy the Lake - but also to feel close to Vanda... A weekend was setup - and we prepared with glee to drive down...
"Now a buddy of mine and his family will be there all week... but he should be gone by the time you get there Friday.."
We managed to pull into the A-Frame just before sunset... There on the deck.. a middle aged man sat with his hands on either side of his forehead... He was muttering something.. "thhhreeedoolllarsandeighttttyytwocents..." I figured maybe he'd combined sun/beer - and that we'd haveta fix him some coffee before he headed back home... Again "thhhhreeeedooollllarrssandeightttytwoocents" he bellowed.. I think I understood it this time... "Are you saying $3.82?"... He slumped lower.. "yeah... I am.".... I closed within a better earshot, not saying a word, only hoping he'd continue.
"You see... my son and his friend wanted to jet ski... so... we decided this morning to go ahead and rent two of 'em... They were having a blast.. My wife and I even got to play on them for awhile... all was good... Ten minutes before we were to have them back.. I hear this KABOOM and looked out... they'd collided with each other.. Neither was hurt thank God.. but the jet ski's were really really messed up."
Wow, I'm sorry about that.. but so thankful neither of the boys weren't hurt... Can I ask something? "Sure.. oh.. and we'll get outta your hair soon... what did you wanna ask?"
You were muttering "threeedoolllarssandeighhhtytwwwooocentttss" when we walked up.. what'd ya mean?
"Well... we got the jet ski's back to the place we rented them... their initial assessment was roughly $2250 worth of damage... and the $3.82 is the amount I neglected to pay to take out insurance on them." Shit, whaddya say to that?
I'm certain this chap has been back to The Lake by now - and that more good times have eased that not-so-good moment. I've been back.. I will go back again. There's just something magical about The Lake.
Everyone's been - everyone has stories.. the lucky ones have a 2nd house there.. the even luckier ones have their primary house there. There's something about a large body of water that brings out the best in people...
The wise old fishermen take their Jon Boats out early to fish before the big rigs get on the water... The yuppies come out in full force mid-morning in their tri-hull "look I'm from Johnson County" (sorry Catom) bigass things that create a wake so large it would knock a sumo wrestler off a jet ski...
Noonish, the families jump on their pontoons and weave across the channel looking for a nice ride and a path of least resistance and a place to safely dive off into the lake.. maybe BBQ too...
After the Johnson County yuppies get hungry and pull back into the dock to hunt down a Sushi bar.. their kids steal the boat keys and head to Party Cove. There, liquor is downed very fast - the more that is drank, the more selected items of clothing come off to expose abs of steel and boobs by Dr. Smithton, along with a few moon shots. I pity the fat kid and the A cup gal.
No one, repeat, no one goes to bed "untired" at the lake. Hell, if the nerves don't get you from "GD Herbert, those waves are gonna capsize us" - the walks up and down the steep hills to the boat dock will. You simply go go go and forget about being tired until you sitdown at night...
My sister. I'm biased of course - but she was one of the neatest ladies on the planet. The cog to our family. The smile you always needed. The right confidence boost at the perfect time. As gooda sense of humor as Steve Martin. (She usedta get on elevators with her boss.. look at the crowd sharing the elevator.. and spit out "Oh THANK YOU, THANK YOU for pretending not to recognize her." Who was she? Vanda's boss, that's all.. Another person like you and I - but it left 'em scratchin' their heads with "whothehell was that?".......
Anyways, Vanda had an A-Frame at the lake.. Wondrous times we shared there.. Fourth of July nights perched in big ole chairs looking out her length-of-the-house glass window at Tan-Tara's Fireworks show... Terrific BBQ'ing.. Family... The best...
Vanda always had something for everyone... especially the little ones...
When "Maynard" was 3, she bought a nifty 18" tall wading pool to put on the deck to occupy the little turds time.. His older stepbrother Denton would join in as well... Late one Sunday afternoon - it was time for the procession back to our abodes - as work beckoned for all Monday.. My father put his foot edge of the wading pool to let all the water out so we could put it back in storage and Maynard simply didn't understand that. He harkened "YOU STUPID IDIOT... WASTE HIM DENT"... I shoulda taken it as a sign - instead I laughed... Age three I'm talking.
Tragedy struck, Vanda passed with breast cancer in 1999... A year or two after - I'd asked her widow if our family could come for a weekend... Sure, to enjoy the Lake - but also to feel close to Vanda... A weekend was setup - and we prepared with glee to drive down...
"Now a buddy of mine and his family will be there all week... but he should be gone by the time you get there Friday.."
We managed to pull into the A-Frame just before sunset... There on the deck.. a middle aged man sat with his hands on either side of his forehead... He was muttering something.. "thhhreeedoolllarsandeighttttyytwocents..." I figured maybe he'd combined sun/beer - and that we'd haveta fix him some coffee before he headed back home... Again "thhhhreeeedooollllarrssandeightttytwoocents" he bellowed.. I think I understood it this time... "Are you saying $3.82?"... He slumped lower.. "yeah... I am.".... I closed within a better earshot, not saying a word, only hoping he'd continue.
"You see... my son and his friend wanted to jet ski... so... we decided this morning to go ahead and rent two of 'em... They were having a blast.. My wife and I even got to play on them for awhile... all was good... Ten minutes before we were to have them back.. I hear this KABOOM and looked out... they'd collided with each other.. Neither was hurt thank God.. but the jet ski's were really really messed up."
Wow, I'm sorry about that.. but so thankful neither of the boys weren't hurt... Can I ask something? "Sure.. oh.. and we'll get outta your hair soon... what did you wanna ask?"
You were muttering "threeedoolllarssandeighhhtytwwwooocentttss" when we walked up.. what'd ya mean?
"Well... we got the jet ski's back to the place we rented them... their initial assessment was roughly $2250 worth of damage... and the $3.82 is the amount I neglected to pay to take out insurance on them." Shit, whaddya say to that?
I'm certain this chap has been back to The Lake by now - and that more good times have eased that not-so-good moment. I've been back.. I will go back again. There's just something magical about The Lake.
Thankless jobs.......
Seen a thingy in the local paper yesterday morning… Some chicky decided to start her own award’s ceremony…. No, not for acclaimed movie stars.. nor for someone who’s discovered a new vaccine… it was for the “least recognized” folks who do good…
Like neighbors driving neighbors to the doctor… Or… someone who volunteers @ Sunday School… or, being a foster parent… A someone non-related who looks in daily on ole Ms. McGillicutty… She called ‘em Perservering Through Adversity… a fine idea…
I’d like to start the “Checkenginelight Awards” – for people who ain’t recognized and prolly oughta be.. I’m thinkin’ about going to the junk yard and pulling a buncha hood ornaments to use for the trophies…
The folks that work Information (411) for the phone company.. I mean hell, they’re always there, and no one says thanks because they know their phone bill will be zapped the next go round..
Cooks everywhere. Hell, we tip the bartender.. we give a minimum of 15% to the waiter/waitress… whothehell thanks the cooks? They do the hard part..
Snowplow drivers. They only get yelled at if they’re not around on time.. ne’er do they get a kudos…. (I do wonder whatinthehell they do with the other 347 days per year they don’t plow though)…
The people that do automated phone voices.. There’s this poor chap @ UPS that Kendra (co-worker) hollers meanly at daily. He’s probably got a complex by now.. I mean hell, he’s real, he just ain’t there. I’m sure he drives home at night to a bitchy wife, crappy diapered kid just like the resta us.. We all hate automated responses.. but hell, what if tweren’t anyone to ever pickup?
The Washington Generals.. That’s the basketball team the mercifully loses to the Harlem Globetrotters EVERY game. WTF? Can’t we stop and say thanks?
Church organists.... Shoot, they generally have their back to everyone.. They pass a plate for envelopes and cash – but she gets none of it… I think they oughta let the organists have their own concerts @ church on Saturday nights. Serve wine (if Catholic) and put the damn collection plate right there infronta ‘em.
Air Traffic Controllers.. We never see ‘em, they always see us. Thanks.
Every day I come to the office and it’s clean. Presto. We never see ‘em.. Only time we think of ‘em is if the job ain’t done right. So.. thanks.
Gaffers. I mean, how can we forget the GAFFERS?........ BTW, WTF are they? Ya just see ‘em listed in every movie.. so, whilst they do roll in the credits – I don’t think they probably get proper credit. So thanks, gaffers.
Al Gore… Dang, if he’da never invented the Internet… the hell’d we do with our spare time? No one ever gives him the proper thanks….
Have you ever given one moment’s thought/thankfulness for those that clean up hospital operating rooms after operations? Eww, me neither. Do you think they talk about “what’s for lunch” as they clean the third operating room of the day?
Have I missed any?
Done now. Sorry can’t thinka no snazzy ending. Tune in tomorrow to learn who among us holds the current world record for jello shots. Bye bye now.
Like neighbors driving neighbors to the doctor… Or… someone who volunteers @ Sunday School… or, being a foster parent… A someone non-related who looks in daily on ole Ms. McGillicutty… She called ‘em Perservering Through Adversity… a fine idea…
I’d like to start the “Checkenginelight Awards” – for people who ain’t recognized and prolly oughta be.. I’m thinkin’ about going to the junk yard and pulling a buncha hood ornaments to use for the trophies…
The folks that work Information (411) for the phone company.. I mean hell, they’re always there, and no one says thanks because they know their phone bill will be zapped the next go round..
Cooks everywhere. Hell, we tip the bartender.. we give a minimum of 15% to the waiter/waitress… whothehell thanks the cooks? They do the hard part..
Snowplow drivers. They only get yelled at if they’re not around on time.. ne’er do they get a kudos…. (I do wonder whatinthehell they do with the other 347 days per year they don’t plow though)…
The people that do automated phone voices.. There’s this poor chap @ UPS that Kendra (co-worker) hollers meanly at daily. He’s probably got a complex by now.. I mean hell, he’s real, he just ain’t there. I’m sure he drives home at night to a bitchy wife, crappy diapered kid just like the resta us.. We all hate automated responses.. but hell, what if tweren’t anyone to ever pickup?
The Washington Generals.. That’s the basketball team the mercifully loses to the Harlem Globetrotters EVERY game. WTF? Can’t we stop and say thanks?
Church organists.... Shoot, they generally have their back to everyone.. They pass a plate for envelopes and cash – but she gets none of it… I think they oughta let the organists have their own concerts @ church on Saturday nights. Serve wine (if Catholic) and put the damn collection plate right there infronta ‘em.
Air Traffic Controllers.. We never see ‘em, they always see us. Thanks.
Every day I come to the office and it’s clean. Presto. We never see ‘em.. Only time we think of ‘em is if the job ain’t done right. So.. thanks.
Gaffers. I mean, how can we forget the GAFFERS?........ BTW, WTF are they? Ya just see ‘em listed in every movie.. so, whilst they do roll in the credits – I don’t think they probably get proper credit. So thanks, gaffers.
Al Gore… Dang, if he’da never invented the Internet… the hell’d we do with our spare time? No one ever gives him the proper thanks….
Have you ever given one moment’s thought/thankfulness for those that clean up hospital operating rooms after operations? Eww, me neither. Do you think they talk about “what’s for lunch” as they clean the third operating room of the day?
Have I missed any?
Done now. Sorry can’t thinka no snazzy ending. Tune in tomorrow to learn who among us holds the current world record for jello shots. Bye bye now.
I have an itchy itchy rash.......
No blog today...
The dog ate my homework...
My car brokedown... no, that won't work... all those hazard lights are on, but it putt putted in...
I've gotta hitch in my getalong...
I ran into Elisabeth Shue in Quick Trip and she wanted me to come over to her house for awhile...
I didn't get enough sleep...
I got too much sleep...
I'm still affected by Daylight Savings..
I'm not particularly fond of days ending in 'Y'...
I have bad breath and I'm outta toothpaste...
The last sliver of soap slid down the drain...
I cuodt'n fnid my sepcs...
I'm lazy....
I'm incredibly handsome, overly sexed... just having some habitual lying problems...
HOWABOUT I'm just gonna take a day off? That work?
May you enjoy this day... for... you'll never get a chance to do it over... If there's someone you're fond of.. NO, NO, NO.. I don't mean you wanna throw 'em down and throw their clothes off.. if there's someone you find admirable... make it their special day and tell 'em so..... Peace out..... Victor
The dog ate my homework...
My car brokedown... no, that won't work... all those hazard lights are on, but it putt putted in...
I've gotta hitch in my getalong...
I ran into Elisabeth Shue in Quick Trip and she wanted me to come over to her house for awhile...
I didn't get enough sleep...
I got too much sleep...
I'm still affected by Daylight Savings..
I'm not particularly fond of days ending in 'Y'...
I have bad breath and I'm outta toothpaste...
The last sliver of soap slid down the drain...
I cuodt'n fnid my sepcs...
I'm lazy....
I'm incredibly handsome, overly sexed... just having some habitual lying problems...
HOWABOUT I'm just gonna take a day off? That work?
May you enjoy this day... for... you'll never get a chance to do it over... If there's someone you're fond of.. NO, NO, NO.. I don't mean you wanna throw 'em down and throw their clothes off.. if there's someone you find admirable... make it their special day and tell 'em so..... Peace out..... Victor
Sunday, April 02, 2006
I HATE when old people offer free, unsolicited advice...
Well... too bad! And for those of you already middle age or later - perhaps you'd like to chime in and see if what this old fart says is kinda true....
"Be Prepared." I didn't make it to Boy Scouts - but that was/is their motto. There's really no preparing for life, or the future.. Sure, one can control their own economics, burial, etc - but we ain't gotta whole lot of control over what happens/when.
Yes, we can contribute either to bad health or good health along the way - but even that isn't foolproof.
Shit happens. Good shit, bad shit. As I enter this stage where the nest is empty (WAIT, WAIT, there's little "robin" that ain't ready to fly in it still!).. Ahem, as I prepare to enter the empty nest stage of my life - I wonder how all the yesterdays happened - and what the tomorrows will look like.
One of my favorite sayings - "If you'da sat me down in High School and told me what the next twenty (or thirty, or forty) years were gonna be like --- I'da said 'no friggin' way'"...... Well... way.
"Victor... you will go to college across the street at William Jewell... and you will love it..." - you have GOT to be kidding... I would NEVER go there and be within eyesight of my family - and especially since my mother works there.. WELL.... WAY...
"You will marry a Baptist preacher's daughter your senior year in college.. have one of the largest weddings ever in Independence, MO... then you'll be divorced in six and one-half years." ARE YOU OUTTA YOUR MIND? Why, I won't get divorced... Only "icky", "slimy", "untrustworthy" people get divorced. Huh uh, not me. WELL... WAY...
"You will rebound into a relationship months later with a gal 7 and 1/2 years your junior.. and she will bear a child in three years.. she already has a son.. and that will be difficult for you each at first... but it ends up being a real good thing." Me? A cradle robber? A stepdad? A DAD?.......... WELL..... WAY...
"I'm sorry to report, but you will be the sole surviving member of the nuclear family you grew up in by the time you are 51." Come on, that shit ain't funny.. For real? (Mother passed, I was 34, sister passed, I was 47, father passed I was 51.) WELL... WAY...
"You will coach Women's College Basketball" YEAH RIGHT.. "You will work for three different airlines - and each situation with those will end with you jobless either because of bankruptcies or cutbacks." Come on.. Not me.. I'll clock in and outta the same place for forty years.. just like Grandpa did.. and collect my gold watch too... WELL.... WAY...
"You will lose an inlaw to suicide turn of the century, it's extremely tragic - tremendously effects the lives of everyone in the family... you will divorce soon after losing your sister and your father.. your son will continue to give you fits.. and get this, you'll be the one raising him." You must be drunk.. All this shit can't happen to me.. WELL... WAY...
HEY.... WAIT? Will there be any good parts?... "OH, yes, yes, yes... Actually, you're fortunate.. While you don't get as much time as most with your own nuclear family, it will be filled with love, lots of it.. You will enjoy virtually every job you ever work at.. .make TONS of lifelong friends along the way.. your two marriages will be non-combative and mostly good... you, your stepson and your son will have many, many great hours together doing sports things - you'll coach each and every team they are on... your family time with them will be good also... You will kinda stay "down in the valley" for a good piece after marriage number two fails - but the fact that all the other crap has happened and you've either BEen PREPARED or learned to deal with it.. you come out Ok." WOW. Is this really how my life will go the next thirty or so years after High School? "Yes, Victurd, I wouldn't shit you." WAIT.. Is this some kinda APRIL FOOLS THING? "No Victor, but don't cry as the milk spills.. everyone's story doesn't pan out as they imagined... you're luckier than most."
"I've got to go now... I've got to go tell some High School Senior that he'll lose a leg in his effort to help defend our country. That's gonna be a tough one for me.." Damn.. I bet...
HEY WAIT!!!! "Yes, Victor?"... Can you give me any hints about my next twenty years or so....hey.. how many years do I have left?... Should I start trying to get laid every night now because my time here is short? Does it look bad for me?..... "Well.. they don't allow me to tell you that far ahead.. just be prepared.. I will tell you one thing though...." YES, YES, WHAT? TELL ME, TELL ME. "Stay the hell away from the Blackjack table more often." That's it? That's my future?
"Victor... many going along for the ride spend all their time bitching about this driver.. this road... their car.. the weather... their company... they fail to simply look out and suckup all the scenery.. or, they are unappreciative of the good things that happen to them day in and day out.... just enjoy.. pretty much as you have thus far.. be prepared." Oh DON'T say that.. Don't you remember I didn't make it to Boy Scouts because I hadta volunteer time at a church when I was a Cub Scout.. and I was SCARED to death?.. Oh well... I'll do my best to be prepared... I DO PROMISE to enjoy the scenery.. suckup the good times... (I can't make any promises about not bitching about my car however..)
Howabout you? Life gone "just as I thought it would"... Somehow, I just don't think that's humanly possible....
Happy Sunday.. have a good week... bye bye now... Victor
"Be Prepared." I didn't make it to Boy Scouts - but that was/is their motto. There's really no preparing for life, or the future.. Sure, one can control their own economics, burial, etc - but we ain't gotta whole lot of control over what happens/when.
Yes, we can contribute either to bad health or good health along the way - but even that isn't foolproof.
Shit happens. Good shit, bad shit. As I enter this stage where the nest is empty (WAIT, WAIT, there's little "robin" that ain't ready to fly in it still!).. Ahem, as I prepare to enter the empty nest stage of my life - I wonder how all the yesterdays happened - and what the tomorrows will look like.
One of my favorite sayings - "If you'da sat me down in High School and told me what the next twenty (or thirty, or forty) years were gonna be like --- I'da said 'no friggin' way'"...... Well... way.
"Victor... you will go to college across the street at William Jewell... and you will love it..." - you have GOT to be kidding... I would NEVER go there and be within eyesight of my family - and especially since my mother works there.. WELL.... WAY...
"You will marry a Baptist preacher's daughter your senior year in college.. have one of the largest weddings ever in Independence, MO... then you'll be divorced in six and one-half years." ARE YOU OUTTA YOUR MIND? Why, I won't get divorced... Only "icky", "slimy", "untrustworthy" people get divorced. Huh uh, not me. WELL... WAY...
"You will rebound into a relationship months later with a gal 7 and 1/2 years your junior.. and she will bear a child in three years.. she already has a son.. and that will be difficult for you each at first... but it ends up being a real good thing." Me? A cradle robber? A stepdad? A DAD?.......... WELL..... WAY...
"I'm sorry to report, but you will be the sole surviving member of the nuclear family you grew up in by the time you are 51." Come on, that shit ain't funny.. For real? (Mother passed, I was 34, sister passed, I was 47, father passed I was 51.) WELL... WAY...
"You will coach Women's College Basketball" YEAH RIGHT.. "You will work for three different airlines - and each situation with those will end with you jobless either because of bankruptcies or cutbacks." Come on.. Not me.. I'll clock in and outta the same place for forty years.. just like Grandpa did.. and collect my gold watch too... WELL.... WAY...
"You will lose an inlaw to suicide turn of the century, it's extremely tragic - tremendously effects the lives of everyone in the family... you will divorce soon after losing your sister and your father.. your son will continue to give you fits.. and get this, you'll be the one raising him." You must be drunk.. All this shit can't happen to me.. WELL... WAY...
HEY.... WAIT? Will there be any good parts?... "OH, yes, yes, yes... Actually, you're fortunate.. While you don't get as much time as most with your own nuclear family, it will be filled with love, lots of it.. You will enjoy virtually every job you ever work at.. .make TONS of lifelong friends along the way.. your two marriages will be non-combative and mostly good... you, your stepson and your son will have many, many great hours together doing sports things - you'll coach each and every team they are on... your family time with them will be good also... You will kinda stay "down in the valley" for a good piece after marriage number two fails - but the fact that all the other crap has happened and you've either BEen PREPARED or learned to deal with it.. you come out Ok." WOW. Is this really how my life will go the next thirty or so years after High School? "Yes, Victurd, I wouldn't shit you." WAIT.. Is this some kinda APRIL FOOLS THING? "No Victor, but don't cry as the milk spills.. everyone's story doesn't pan out as they imagined... you're luckier than most."
"I've got to go now... I've got to go tell some High School Senior that he'll lose a leg in his effort to help defend our country. That's gonna be a tough one for me.." Damn.. I bet...
HEY WAIT!!!! "Yes, Victor?"... Can you give me any hints about my next twenty years or so....hey.. how many years do I have left?... Should I start trying to get laid every night now because my time here is short? Does it look bad for me?..... "Well.. they don't allow me to tell you that far ahead.. just be prepared.. I will tell you one thing though...." YES, YES, WHAT? TELL ME, TELL ME. "Stay the hell away from the Blackjack table more often." That's it? That's my future?
"Victor... many going along for the ride spend all their time bitching about this driver.. this road... their car.. the weather... their company... they fail to simply look out and suckup all the scenery.. or, they are unappreciative of the good things that happen to them day in and day out.... just enjoy.. pretty much as you have thus far.. be prepared." Oh DON'T say that.. Don't you remember I didn't make it to Boy Scouts because I hadta volunteer time at a church when I was a Cub Scout.. and I was SCARED to death?.. Oh well... I'll do my best to be prepared... I DO PROMISE to enjoy the scenery.. suckup the good times... (I can't make any promises about not bitching about my car however..)
Howabout you? Life gone "just as I thought it would"... Somehow, I just don't think that's humanly possible....
Happy Sunday.. have a good week... bye bye now... Victor
Saturday, April 01, 2006
Life in the fast lane........
Decent day at the office.. Friday... Spring has sprung.. I've survived the thirty-five minute commute home... I'd wiggled my way past the normal 100 or so cars backed up in the two left lanes of Interstate - sped my way down the 3rd lane - and snuck in where the right lane is now formally closed aheada some big rig from Montana, or similar.
Ran Maynard's honey do's.. The time is now my time. The weekend.
Waiting to turn in left to McDonalds, I grit my teeth and snarl as an SUV and a truck turn right into he Golden Arches. I was aheada them, but had to wait since they had the right-a-way..
Round the corner - pick the inside lane - plop in behind the SUV'd soccer mom - stare at the 20-something fella in the F350 to my right. I'm hungry, I'm tired. But it's the weekend.
Mom and the truckman arrive at the speaker roughly at the same time... I wait, I wait.. "JC (jiminy creepers) woman, hurry up and order!"... She looks at the speaker.. then at a snotnose in back.. again... again.. and again.. I overhear "oh, and can you cut that cheeseburger in half?".. Come on dammit, this ain't the friggin Hereford House.. it's McDonalds! Teethe little Johnny on your own GD time."
The creep in the truck has ordered.. he inches closer to the pay window as this little gal in daddy's Lincoln pulls in behind. Thankfully, the bed of his truck - appearing big enough to hold TWO 4 by 8 sheets of plywood - keeps her from the speaker.
By now mom has wiped two butts, taken and communicated five snotnose orders - and I'm ready to pull up... She pulls ahead and I'm even with the speaker stand - only seconds aheada the lil' bitch in daddy's car next to me...
"Thank you for choosing McDonalds, I'll be with you in a moment." WHAT? WTF? DO YOU HAVE TO PEE? ARE YOU STOPPING TO FLIRT WITH JIMMY, THE FRENCH FRY SALTER? WHATTHEHELL IS GOING ON?...
I hear crackling speaker noise from the lane next to me - and the lil' bitch (who really needs a Yellow Page book to sit on as she drives) is ordering away over there. GD, I was here first, whatsup with that? Don't you know I can't stand losing even in CHECKERS?
The soft sound of a now turned down Van Morrison helps - but I still sit and stew. Oh yeah, in addition to the checkenginelight and the brake light both being on (and I can't get my gearshift thingy in park) NOW, there's a small radiator leak - so.. the heater is running full blast because the car overheats as it idles.. and sweat begins to roll down my face in the 63 degree weather.
"I'm sorry about your wait, may I take your order please?" Sorry? SORRY? If you're fucking sorry, then why did you leave me here melting away in this piecea crap whilst the little snotnose next door waved her daddy's crispy twenty out the window... and I was here FIRST.. and truth be known, I SHOULDA been in line before the whore in the SUV and the GD Union prick that's wayyy up there... "Oh, thanks, I'd like two small cheeseburgers, a $1 french fry and a water please."
Mom's halfway around the corner inching up on the pay window. The little shit next to me, the one who ain't got any kinda idea what a water or electric bill looks like - is now finished ordering too... I ease toward the SUV's bumper... No way my little pretty - I'M FUCKING NEXT. She's oblivious to me as she listens to her turned up too loud radio - which happens to be blaring a remake of a song from my day. YA LITTLE BITCH, I'M NEXT.. OH AND BTW, THAT SONG WAS A LOT BETTER IN 1972... YOU'RE BRAIN AIN'T EVEN RIPE YET. STOP. LEMME GO. I'M YOUR ELDER!
GD, she BRISTOL'd me. (For you'ns who ain't ne'er hearda Bristol, nor mebbe even Toby Keith - why it's the smallest little NASCAR track on the circuit. Funnest one to watch.. so small there's fights, bumpers being bumped, helmets being thrown. Why right there on the Tee-V last week I seen Jeff Gordon get out and push a feller.)
She musta learned well in driver's ed. You couldn'ta placed a pencil between daddy's Lincoln and the whore's SUV aheada me. I am last. By now, there are seven cars in my rear view mirror, and at least three of them were probably in the next county as I was waiting to make my left hand turn in to see Ronald.
FINALLY, the F350, the SUV bitch and the primpy little butt pull up simultaneously and I'm there at the window. DON'T YOU OPEN THAT WINDOW AND SMILE ALL GIDDY AT ME YOU LITTLE SNOTNOSE. I KNOW YOU MAKE MINIMUM WAGE, THAT THERE'S AT LEAST TEN PLACES YOU'D RATHER BE, AND YOU'VE PROBABLY GOTTEN 13 TEXT MESSAGES YOU'RE DYING TO SEE SINCE YOUR LAST BREAK.
"That'll be $12.63 please" smiling teeth coming outta everywhere. "$12.63? I had two cheeseburgers, a $1 fry and a water."... After some consternation, she's finally clicked the right button and deemed I owe $2.74 cents. Do I pull the ole crap we usedta do in college and hand her $3.47? Nah, that was back when life wasn't in a hurry. Next "have to" would be 10:30am class Tuesday - and there was time to kill. I handed her 3 bucks and 4 pennies - wiped the dripping sweat from my forehead.. got my change and pulled up toward window #2.
There I was met by some 30-something housewife, even cheerier than the snotnose that met me at window 1. "How are you today sir?" WELL, IT'S FRIDAY. I'VE BEEN IN TRAFFIC FOR OVER 40 MINUTES. MY FUCKING RADIATOR LEAKS THEREFORE THE HEAT IS BLASTING, IT'S NOW 94 DEGREES IN HERE.. I GOT TO THIS GODFORSAKEN PLACE AHEADA THE TURD IN THE TRUCK.. THAT SUV CHICKY... AND THE LITTLE BITCH INFRONTA ME WASN'T EVEN IN THE LOT WHEN I PULLED TO THE SPEAKER.... "Oh, I'm fine... and you?"
Niceties done, I grab my sack, my drink (Hey, she'd screwed up.. it wasn't water.. it was a Coke! GD I earned it.. I ain't sayin' nothin'... M I A GO'N 2 L?)...
FINALLY HOME.. I sit down exhausted like a 53 yr old at the enda the week. Outta the sack I pull out my two chees... FISH SANDWICHES? I FUCKING HATE FISH SANDWICHES..
Geez. I ain't never been on the Tee-V before. Maybe now I'll get my chance to be on COPS. Happy Saturday, bye bye now.
Ran Maynard's honey do's.. The time is now my time. The weekend.
Waiting to turn in left to McDonalds, I grit my teeth and snarl as an SUV and a truck turn right into he Golden Arches. I was aheada them, but had to wait since they had the right-a-way..
Round the corner - pick the inside lane - plop in behind the SUV'd soccer mom - stare at the 20-something fella in the F350 to my right. I'm hungry, I'm tired. But it's the weekend.
Mom and the truckman arrive at the speaker roughly at the same time... I wait, I wait.. "JC (jiminy creepers) woman, hurry up and order!"... She looks at the speaker.. then at a snotnose in back.. again... again.. and again.. I overhear "oh, and can you cut that cheeseburger in half?".. Come on dammit, this ain't the friggin Hereford House.. it's McDonalds! Teethe little Johnny on your own GD time."
The creep in the truck has ordered.. he inches closer to the pay window as this little gal in daddy's Lincoln pulls in behind. Thankfully, the bed of his truck - appearing big enough to hold TWO 4 by 8 sheets of plywood - keeps her from the speaker.
By now mom has wiped two butts, taken and communicated five snotnose orders - and I'm ready to pull up... She pulls ahead and I'm even with the speaker stand - only seconds aheada the lil' bitch in daddy's car next to me...
"Thank you for choosing McDonalds, I'll be with you in a moment." WHAT? WTF? DO YOU HAVE TO PEE? ARE YOU STOPPING TO FLIRT WITH JIMMY, THE FRENCH FRY SALTER? WHATTHEHELL IS GOING ON?...
I hear crackling speaker noise from the lane next to me - and the lil' bitch (who really needs a Yellow Page book to sit on as she drives) is ordering away over there. GD, I was here first, whatsup with that? Don't you know I can't stand losing even in CHECKERS?
The soft sound of a now turned down Van Morrison helps - but I still sit and stew. Oh yeah, in addition to the checkenginelight and the brake light both being on (and I can't get my gearshift thingy in park) NOW, there's a small radiator leak - so.. the heater is running full blast because the car overheats as it idles.. and sweat begins to roll down my face in the 63 degree weather.
"I'm sorry about your wait, may I take your order please?" Sorry? SORRY? If you're fucking sorry, then why did you leave me here melting away in this piecea crap whilst the little snotnose next door waved her daddy's crispy twenty out the window... and I was here FIRST.. and truth be known, I SHOULDA been in line before the whore in the SUV and the GD Union prick that's wayyy up there... "Oh, thanks, I'd like two small cheeseburgers, a $1 french fry and a water please."
Mom's halfway around the corner inching up on the pay window. The little shit next to me, the one who ain't got any kinda idea what a water or electric bill looks like - is now finished ordering too... I ease toward the SUV's bumper... No way my little pretty - I'M FUCKING NEXT. She's oblivious to me as she listens to her turned up too loud radio - which happens to be blaring a remake of a song from my day. YA LITTLE BITCH, I'M NEXT.. OH AND BTW, THAT SONG WAS A LOT BETTER IN 1972... YOU'RE BRAIN AIN'T EVEN RIPE YET. STOP. LEMME GO. I'M YOUR ELDER!
GD, she BRISTOL'd me. (For you'ns who ain't ne'er hearda Bristol, nor mebbe even Toby Keith - why it's the smallest little NASCAR track on the circuit. Funnest one to watch.. so small there's fights, bumpers being bumped, helmets being thrown. Why right there on the Tee-V last week I seen Jeff Gordon get out and push a feller.)
She musta learned well in driver's ed. You couldn'ta placed a pencil between daddy's Lincoln and the whore's SUV aheada me. I am last. By now, there are seven cars in my rear view mirror, and at least three of them were probably in the next county as I was waiting to make my left hand turn in to see Ronald.
FINALLY, the F350, the SUV bitch and the primpy little butt pull up simultaneously and I'm there at the window. DON'T YOU OPEN THAT WINDOW AND SMILE ALL GIDDY AT ME YOU LITTLE SNOTNOSE. I KNOW YOU MAKE MINIMUM WAGE, THAT THERE'S AT LEAST TEN PLACES YOU'D RATHER BE, AND YOU'VE PROBABLY GOTTEN 13 TEXT MESSAGES YOU'RE DYING TO SEE SINCE YOUR LAST BREAK.
"That'll be $12.63 please" smiling teeth coming outta everywhere. "$12.63? I had two cheeseburgers, a $1 fry and a water."... After some consternation, she's finally clicked the right button and deemed I owe $2.74 cents. Do I pull the ole crap we usedta do in college and hand her $3.47? Nah, that was back when life wasn't in a hurry. Next "have to" would be 10:30am class Tuesday - and there was time to kill. I handed her 3 bucks and 4 pennies - wiped the dripping sweat from my forehead.. got my change and pulled up toward window #2.
There I was met by some 30-something housewife, even cheerier than the snotnose that met me at window 1. "How are you today sir?" WELL, IT'S FRIDAY. I'VE BEEN IN TRAFFIC FOR OVER 40 MINUTES. MY FUCKING RADIATOR LEAKS THEREFORE THE HEAT IS BLASTING, IT'S NOW 94 DEGREES IN HERE.. I GOT TO THIS GODFORSAKEN PLACE AHEADA THE TURD IN THE TRUCK.. THAT SUV CHICKY... AND THE LITTLE BITCH INFRONTA ME WASN'T EVEN IN THE LOT WHEN I PULLED TO THE SPEAKER.... "Oh, I'm fine... and you?"
Niceties done, I grab my sack, my drink (Hey, she'd screwed up.. it wasn't water.. it was a Coke! GD I earned it.. I ain't sayin' nothin'... M I A GO'N 2 L?)...
FINALLY HOME.. I sit down exhausted like a 53 yr old at the enda the week. Outta the sack I pull out my two chees... FISH SANDWICHES? I FUCKING HATE FISH SANDWICHES..
Geez. I ain't never been on the Tee-V before. Maybe now I'll get my chance to be on COPS. Happy Saturday, bye bye now.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)