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Thanks

Hi folks... THANKS very much for your kind words, and hell, thanks just for being here. It's my "stamp collecting... baseball card collectnig... gardening...whatever kinda hobby" and I'm tickled every time onea you lays an eyeball here..

Speakin' o eyeballs.. Pardon my prio wimpiness - but everything went smooth as hell... The only weird part - while he didn't verbally walk me through the process - I could very much tell when he removed my lense... it was truly a moment of blindness... and then when he got the lens implant in - I was reminded of the old days in school where the teacher would show a movie... it'd be blurry as hell - then she'd twist the lens - and perfect clarity happened. When you stop to think - it's really kinda a miracle.

I've only had a total of about ten seconds without this stupid eye patch - but I really think all is well... Again, I'm appreciative - yet feel guilt too for there are undoubtedly so many out there way, way more deserving of the time and attention you've given me. May we all focus on them.
But, I had fun with it - hope you did too.......

I can see clearly now the rain is gone.I can see all obstacles in my way.Gone are the dark clouds that had me blind.It's gonna be a bright (bright), bright (bright) sunshiny day. Eye eye mate, Love, Victurd

T-minus 9 hours, 43 minutes.. but who's counting....

Won't be driving the next few days, so went to HyVee to buy groceries..... Lemme see what I should mix up... Four Banquet frozen meals later - "That'll be 3.60 sir." Then, lass of 17 or so, hiccupped, started giggling, said something under her breath.. looked me in the eyes laughing and said "Either you're deaf or I'm going crazy, onea the two." If I hadn't written all these drippy, sappy blogs... if she wasn't sucha nice kid - I'd said "No, you ignoramous, I'm blind, NOT deaf." But I thanked her and went on.

Had dinner. Read the paper. The top US headline "Hubble telescope goes down... doubtful it can be restored to even one-third power. " Oh great, the biggest fucking lense on the planet, controlled by the richest, most powerful, technical savvy nation on the planet - and they can't keep it up. How am I to expect this friggin Classa '98 MU grad (just think, he probably sang "Teenage Mutent Ninja Turtles" and was Donatello on Halloween. Shit) to fix my lense?

Maybe I'll check the Horoscope - yeah, that's usually an upper... TONIGHT: "Beam in on what you want." NOT FUNNY KANSAS CITY STAR, NOT FUNNY AT ALL.

Home. "Hey, remember that chick with the green eyes had mentioned 'and you'll need to get this prescription filled - for you'll run out of it for sure." So... thought I'd better look in my bag. It's a nice bag - kinda like a purse. In fact, I have a purse for the right eye, and a purse for the left eye. I'm thinkin' about donatin' 'em to that feller that's gay that writes the Sex Column ina local 'rag' here. He might like 'em.

Ok... let's see the instructions. T-minus 9 hours, 3 minutes, but who's counting.

TWO DAYS BEFORE SURGERY........... (Oh shit. I fucky up.) "Start Vigamox & Nevanac 1 drop of each 4 times a day in operative eye including the morning of the surgery." Since the mush all around the cornea is white, would it be OK to tell a white lie when they ask if I've been takin' the medicine - "uh huh." My GD email at work already says "will return 2/2"... my viocemail at work has been changed to a half-crying ".... cataract surgery.. many of you I've never met.. .now.. who knows if I will EVER see you." Or maybe it was something like out 1/31 and 2/1, back 2/2, can't remember.

THE NIGHT BEFORE SURGERY..
"Shower or bathe the night before surgery or the morning of the surgery." Hey, gym doesn't close until 10pm... mebbe if I went and ran two miles - didn't shower - then they wouldn't wanna get close enough to ask me if I've been takin' my meds...

THE DAY OF SURGERY PRIOR TO ARRIVAL
"Take your prescribed medications unless otherwise instructed. Wash your face with anti-microbial soap." (I wonder if that crap I bought at Dollar General is anti-microbial?) Wear a button down shirt, preferably short sleeves and those cute little Haines Boxer Briefs you wear." Ok, perhaps editorialized a bit.

CRIMINY! If, due to not reading the damn 'structions until the night before - whadif my eye falls out due to infection? Oh well, there ain't no good place to put all my change in checkenginelight.. I guess I could use the cavity for that. I could be like Fred Arbanas - you know, the former KC Chief receiver who hada glass eye... He usedta get the scaboozie knocked outta him - and sometimes his eyeball would fall out... He'd walk up to ref (on purpose) and say "Excuse me sir.. (hand him the eyeball and say) "Can you help me with this?" YES, YES, I FRIGGIN LOVE PRACTICAL JOKES. I BET I COULD HEAR VANDA LAUGHIN' IN HEAVEN IF I DID!

Back sometime... I'm going to take more drops. T-minus 8 hours, 57 minutes, but who's counting. Love, One-eyed Jackturd.

Of duct tape and bailing wire... or, All the King's horses and all the King's men....

For the life of me I can't remember the saying. Dammit Catom, helps me here woman. It's about life - how it is perceived it should be lived... then, the other option is where you go like hell and come sliding in - or something or other. I guess ya hadta see the quote - maybe you've seen it.

(CATOM CAME TO THE RESCUE - THANKS!!! IT'S ... "Life's journey is not to arrive at the grave safely in a well preserved body, but rather to skid in sideways, totally worn out, shouting -- "HOLY MOLY! WHAT A RIDE!".....)

What I'm getting to - is - I'm really quite tickled to still be on this planet! Onea the first sentences I remember hearing was my mother on the phone telling someone "yes, Victor is quite accident prone." Your list certainly could be as long, mebbe longer, and I have no idea whyinthehell I'm doing this other than - I feel pretty good for an old fart, and it seems like there's been a lotta shit in the past!

Age 3, had a metal car.. the driver's head went around in circles as you spun it. His head eventually fell off, leaving a nifty sharp hole. With the right index finger in the hole, I pushed the car with my left hand. It still spun. 4 stiches.

Age 4, ran (full speed) toward glass door, arm out straight ahead to open it.. damage: one pane, 5 stitches to interior of right elbow.

Age 7. Neighbor throws bone in my direction. Bone hits head. Bone sharp. 3 stitches right by eyebrow.

Age 8. Down a flight of 16 steps, doing somersaults (unintended) - land on chin. 4 stitches.

Age 9, surveyor's post 'on accident' swung into backa head by next door neighbor. 3 stitches.

Age 12. Broken finger, hit by pitch.

Age 17. Me and Al - played HS football. Third gamea year. I hit someone (Ok, a lie.. someone hit me) so GD hard - I heard birdies tweeting, everything went black for about a minute.. then white... next thing I know I's on the bench next to my buddy Sanford. I remembered him. However, Coach later says "You Ok Vic?".. Uh huh.. "Then go back in at Safety." K. (whispering to Sanford "hey... what's a safety do?" <-- I'd played it all year.) Concussion.

Age 17 and 1/2. Crappy ass arm tackle during Me and AL HS football practice - broken arm, end of season for me... but I gotta sit in the middle of the pep squad for the remaining games, so somehow it wasn't quite as bad.

Age 19. Fraternity pledge. As we sat in the TV room at the house the first night of Hell Week - we had on a jockstrap, a gunny sack fora shirt, and our hands were bound behind our backs. Onea the actives threw a full beer to another active, bastard couldn't catch - straight to my cheekbone, 3 stitches.

Age 20, broken thumb, intramural football.

Age 22. broken other thumb, old men's softball.

Age 25. Teacher/coach. Playing pickup basketball game with students. One very big student with very long arms accidentally swung his very long arm in my direction as he was rebounding and his very hard knuckles landed acutely on my nose. Deviated septum. First, and only time I've ever done cocaine. Uh huh, true. Doc stuck four long needle looking things (dipped in 10% liquid cocaine solution) into each nostril. Then.. he got on toppa me and pressed with all his might to get the nose a goin' back down the center of my face.

Age 25. Broking pinky finger, city league basketball.

Age 27. Moth flies in ear. Shares my pad for 20 minutes. Fluttering.

Age 33. I'd quit teaching to become a bonified suitcase loader (@ $10,000 more per year.) Had a late suitcase come.. happened to be a Chinese persons (which meant filled with lead, large, and weighing 100+ lbs.).. I picked it up, swung it one handed toward the cabin door - and just as I did they backed up the plane. I stopped in mid-flight. Separated shoulder. Two month recovery.

Age 34. The Vas. "Sure honey, I'll do it if you help me get the sample after the GD thing." K - deal. Cut on by doc... few days later "Vic, we need a sample." K... Honey? Ready? "Nope, not doing it." GD renigger... oh, but after I 'collected' she had the watoosies to say "so.... do you feel like a cigarette now?" Hehe.

Age 44. Whatshername went to grocery store. "It's a nice day, would you mind taking me to the high school track - I'd liketa run a few laps." When she returned from store to pick me up - I was laying in the grass... torn left meniscus, ortho surgery a few days later.

Age 50. The hydrocele surgery. In layman's terms, I had one nut bigger than the other. Something abouta valve not closing properly - progressed over the years to it's then current grapefruit size. Now, newly separated (to be divorced) I wasn't an official "layman" - but there was one chicky I'd gone out with a few times - and I spose I wondered in the backa my mind - would this be the first 'post-whatshername'? Anyways, surgery on my ball.. I wake up.. Don't dare look down there.. so... look across the room. Guess who's the recovery room aide? Uh huh. Her - the one chicky. Embarrassing.

Age 52. Royal's Stadium - company work party. "Victor (he said to Victor) why don't you graba football outta the trunk and show these young pups you still got it?"... Roughly 18 passes later, one lands on the tip of my left index finger - finger was extended tersely straight out. Broken. Now it ain't straight out.

Age 53. Choked on french fry, temporarily passed out, went down 40' embankment in Gracie's car. No bumps, no bruises, no breaks, pride all that was hurt.

Age 53. Peach's basement. Coughing spell (mebbe combo bronchitis/cigs) and I blacked out, went down in a heap. Pretty damn embarrassing as I lay on the floor staring up at 14 eyeballs. "Victor, can we get you anything?!!!!" Ahm, a do-over maybe?

Thrown in there somewhere are bruises, 3 dog bites, 3 separate occasions - direct blows to jaw - thought sure was broken each time, dart thrown from 20' and stuck in my knee, firecracker off in hand (twice), more cuts, ER false alarm trips, sprains, strains, and automobiles <-- three wrecks and one nasty case of gout.

I guess what I'm getting to - if I can make it through all that crap - it should be cinchy tomorrow getting eyeball sliced on. I mean the bastards have cut on/around my nut TWICE in my lifetime - I can do it.. I can do it...... Can't I? Hehe.

I have no friggin idea as to how my eyesight will be in relation to typing a goofy blog the next few days. Oh well. Happy happy. "Now it's time to say goodbye to all our company. M-I-C (see you real soon - I friggin hope), K-E-Y (why? because we like you). M-O-U-S-E." Love, Victurd.

Life is puzzling.........

Ya know, when you think about it, life is kinda likea jigsaw puzzle...

Birth... first outta the wrapper - everyone dotes... All eyes are centered upon it.. and all take a hand in creating the final product...

Growing up - the pieces are large - fairly easy - built for success... It's a simple chore - as your attention span won't work on anything more difficult.

The uncompleted puzzle of life is fairly complicated... Oh there are those gimme, mundane tasks - the portion of the puzzle where maybe there's a windmill, the moon, or a lighthouse - or something fairly easy to put two and two together...

Then there's the confusion to it... All the colors run together... No matter how you twist and turn - nothing seems to fit... you feel like you will never find your way out of it... You reach dispair, your mind wonders and you avoid the task at hand to find something easier in life to do so you don't drive youself nuts by labeling yourself a failure.

Temporary absence. GD it, where'd it (that piece) go? Hands and knees. The remote. The car keys. Pictures from Christmas. That beautiful email you wrote, didn't send and now can't find.

Numbers/greed. We all want "bigger/better". Looky what I've got... Looky what I've done... My puzzle has way more pieces than your crappy puzzle and cost ten times as much 'cause I can afford it. The bling puzzle.

Confidence/lack thereof. The 500 piece puzzle. Easily accomplished - and done time and time again - yet there's refusal to challenge further. Many are happy living life out in 500 pieces.

Adventure. Some will attempt the 2,000 piece puzzle laughing heartily along the way - for if there's failure - hey, they've dipped where many refused to dip.

Conflict - when you have the wrong piece partially laid into another piece - and now it's stuck - won't come out... you try like hell to come out if it unscathed - usually easier said than done.

Sex... you've reached an area that's almost complete - and the final piece goes in so easily, so perfectly, it appeases you...

Time management... this is when you sit down, you enjoy the hell outta working on the puzzle, then the "have to's" come into play - and it's forever and a day until you realize "you know, I like doing that so - but I never stop and take the time any more - life's so GD hustle bustle - and where does it get me."

Ethinicity/racism. Who are we fooling? Yes, those of us here simply hate racism, prejudice - but in a way it's like trying to make two puzzles into one.... Can exsist side by side - but there's always "a difference" no matter how badly the pieces want congruency.... in spite of efforts from both sides.

Aging... bent, frayed, discolored pieces, or, neglected puzzle boxes put away - some to ne'er be opened again...

Death... Missing pieces to the puzzle... You've put it together time and again, but it's simply not the same, nor will ever be - without the missing pieces...

Burial/Cremation/Tombstones/Shrines. Shellacking - something official to remember, yet with finality. An eerie feel, as it's hard to comprehend the hours we spent together, the laughs, the fun, the angst. No way this place resembles what we had, but it's fitting we have a place for you. You've served us well. Thanks - and we enjoyed you. You will be missed - but never forgotten.

Have fun. Add some good old fashion fun between the "have to's". Do crap that was fun yesterday and see if it's as rewarding today. Venture out - try something different, harder, completely "un-you-like". Remember, time passes. Just because ya ain't maybe what ya once was - doesn't mean ya can't have fun - rip - play, even if the edges are a little bent, frayed. Get as much good shit in before the shellacking. Piece out, Victurd.

The eyes have it.......

WalMart. Who would know a trip to WalMart would produce visual feel goods. I gotta relate these, 'cause Lord knows it's been forever and a day since I copped a good feel (all men are pigs) - and, with the eyeball set to be sliced on (the GOOD eye first) - I gotta share this crap...

#1) Turned the corner... wasa middle 20's dad pushing the cart... riding in the cart was his 18 month or so snotnose... He bent down and gave her a big smooch. Can't take that crap for granted.

#2) Behind a grayhaired couple. Twas slow going, but I understood that. Side by side, four hands on the cart. As I snuck to the far lane to pass - I noticed it was a guy that was prematurely gray, and he was helping his elderly mother shop. Nice.

#3) Turned the corner, saw lady in late 70's bent over, obviously struggling trying to retrieve her glove that was stuck under onea the wheels to the cart. Gentleman early 30's, bent down, said "lemme help you with that ma'am."

#4) Was leaving... was behind 8 yr old boy who was pushing his 9 yr old sister in her wheelchair. Damn.

Lest you place me on pedastol, HUH UH. I talk about "happy" and the aim to be. I talk about "suckup every moment"... I DO try that, and, I'm happy to announce getting better - yet please let it be known I error. There's a light side, and there's a dark side.

In route this morning to a road that has MU fans on one side, KU pukes (said with love) on the other - I got onta I-35 in Liberty... onea them two-lane ramps that fades to one. In the rear view mirror was halfa GD vehicle, the interstate was getting close - yet this person JUST HADTA get infronta me. So me, the "take pictures with your eyeballs... don't sweat the small stuff... don't worry/be happy" camper that professes to that here - thinks out loud "Why you little cocksucker... you just haveta get in front don't ya? Do you realize you'd be aheada my 57 MPH ass within 200 yards once on the Interstate?" (Maybe worse than the dad who yelled at me yesterday at the 1st and 2nd grade game huh?!)...

McDonalds, earlier today. My kinda Extra Value Meal: $1 double cheeseburger, $1 McChicken (ketchup and pickles only) , $1 French Fry anda water. Again, the dreaded "two lanes down to one" scenerio... NO WAY YOU BITCH IN THE SUV! I ORDERED FIRST! I'LL SACRIFICE THE GOOD HALFA MY BUMPER TO GET THERE BEFORE YOU DO! If you should beat me, I hope they friggin forget the toy in Lil Suzie's Happy Meal and you're forced to listen to crying CRANKED to the max all the way to Stately Manor."

So see? There's dark here. In fact, I've been in relationships where both are dark (depressed) - and it'sa sonofabitch because you are remiss of the one who slapsya in the face and says "get with it you mo-fo, cause you're lettin' the good life pass by."

Goodness knows, in the last week - I've worked myself into a corner by things I've not said/done, and things I have said/done. I guess my point here is.... I am human, hear me roar. When I write the 'sugary" write (take pics with eyeballs, be happy, live for the minute) - please know I'm mainly talking to me.... but I find it cool if it stikes a chord with you. I have confessionals, where I tell myself "Victor, you simply fucked up. Try to avoid that, but also know, it will happen - for you are human." I recommend them self confessionals!

I, occasionally, have skid marks, just like every other human. Should I use "Spray and Wash" on those? Oh hell, why ask her.... she doesn't even wear 'em. Hehe. I DIDN'T NAME NAMES!!!!

I try, and I'm gaining. But occasionally, I find myself under a banana peel in life. Happy Sunday, Love Darth Victurd.

What do you think about at 2:30am?

Well, most likely you're in your REM's - but for whatever reason I feel as wide awake as a football coach who's just gotten a cooler of Gatorade thrown on him... "Victor, I've got an opening Saturday for two more games to ref, can you help?"... ahm, sure... "Victor (Talkin' to Victor) remind yourself next time you're too GD old for that, and after doing your three.. and the other fella's two, you'll quickly remember - you're too GD old for five games." Uh huh, am.

"I think I'll just lay down at 8pm for an hour... set the alarm for 9:30 just in case - maybe go out and have beer - then come home and crash"... BEEP-BEEP... "No way".. snooze... BEEP-BEEP... "Huh uh", snooze... Repeated that scenerio until 12:30 am, then figured "nah, too late to go anywhere.." back asleep... . so, Gatorade bath at 2am, and here I be.

"Where was your blog yesterday?"... Eh, I dunno.. I at least like to TRY to be creative and I've sat (set? Help me Misty) down here numorous times - and it's like there's butterflies up there in that mush and I can't keep my mind focused on anything but one thing. (And no, not tellin')

So, all I can do is toss out this idle crap. We're almost through what has historically been the coldest month of the year. THANK GOODNESS. It's my hope for you there's more balance than bills - but this timea year I get those fingernail on the chalkboard feelings everytime I hear the GD furnace blower come on. Were you aware of how often that sum-bitch comes on at 2:30 in the morning? Lots.

I'd liketa be in Florida (yes Catom, I remember "but whatabout the bugs? The humidity?).. or Alabama.. or Southern Texas... or Arizona.. or SoCal... or Maui.. or ona cruise... Never been ona cruise - and if you have - don't tellme, I'm envious. I wanna live, I wanna fly - I don't want: Missouri, you die. The dream probably ne'er to be is to sell my house, cash in the 401K, and head for Key West - rent a small place - and getta job somewhere 'happy' - and just enjoy wrinkling up this old albino skin even faster.

I'd put everything but "I just want the expensive stuff... you know, the antiques" (Been five years, they' still here) in storage. Oh, maybe $500 wortha crap - ina storage bin that in 8 months or so I will remember "Whyinthehell didn't you just have a humongous garage sale? Auction? And gotten the hell outta Dodge."

I woke up in the wet spot the other night. NO, mind outta gutter dammit. Cat claws + Waterbed = wet spot. Now there've been a few years past where being the "hero" meant volunteering for the wet spot - not this time. I was still halfasleep - and I kinda hit the panic button. HUH? She's still here? The last five years has been justa dream? I remember when it happened - it was like a panic. NO! NO! THIS CAN'T BE HAPPENING! There I was again - only the panic was in the other direction. NO! NO! THIS CAN'T BE HAPPENING! Whilst she was a good lady - and we held many a great conversation - when the shit happened - and little sayings like "like I say" rang and ring through my brain - I literally panicked again - but it was a safe panic - cause maybe now I'm officially through the forest. I guess I always have been a little slow at some shit. I believe in tomorrow, I just wish that bastard would get here soon.

I'm so very sorry this crap is "all about me" - but I guess too that's just whata blog is. I mean, I'll talk to the cats - but them fuggers don't talk back - so this is my release (since there ain't no more wet spots!)...

Of tomorrow I'm excited, scared, happy, pensive.... I've learned paint doesn't last on walls forever. Learned the views of 'til death do us part' mean until I do, or, until I wanna see what it's like screwing this other person for awhile - whichever comes first. BITTER? VICTOR ARE YOU BITTER? No, frankly, I'm quite happy. There are no guarantees in life - but I guarandamnteeya I choose to live life happy. I WILL have fun. I AM having fun. No, I'm not reminding myself - it's with me every minute - every day. I see some scorn, worry, diss in others - I try to takea deep breath and think "nope, not gonna let that happen to me. It ain't worth the consternation." "REF? REF? How come you called that offensive foul on us.. and you NEVER call all the defensive fouls on them?" Jack, you ignorant slut - it'sa 1st and 2nd grade basketball game...

SHIT. Sorry, furnace just came back on. Oh, yeah, I slip from time to time - but still to me, life's all about having fun or not... and I am, and am gonna.

July, btw, is typically the warmest month here. Please don't fret - it's only 154 days away. Hehe. May your life be filled with happy, tropical sun, and wet spots. Love, Victurd.

Am I an "ordinary guy"????

I read the Kansas City Star for a lotta reasons... I'm still a halfass sport's addict.. I read the obits so I won't be embarrassed and ask "how's so-and-so" and learn the hard way... I love the local section... Seeing how old celebrities are... and laughing thru the horoscopes that say good fortune is coming my way.

I shudder and pretty much bypass the news in Iraq... local shootings/stabbings... Local and National Political squabbles... virtually anything sad, mean, ugly - where I think I will think after I've read it "why did I read that?"

Onea my favorite sites is newsoftheweird.com.... Done by a feller named Chuck Shepherd - it takes a look at none of the above.. it's generally good for some laughs and a few "NO WAY!"s... In Mr. Shepherd's FAQ he states "If you're just an ordinary guy or gal running a hobby publication or website, you have my permission to link to News of the Weird, and you have my permission to reprint a few stories, from time to time, with attribution to News of the Weird."

There could be great debate as to whether I'm an "ordinary guy".. I mean JC I've had a moth fly in my ear (I swear for twenty minutes he switched back and forth between the drum solo's in Inna Godda Davita and Wipe Out - got the little sucker though.. in the ER - still alive).. a buddy once threw a dart across the room and it stuck in my knee... I once went up the Courthouse steps - in a Jeep... I once had a testi the size of a softball.. Some buds and I gotta contracted job painting - I painted my balls blue and walked out naked to show my buddies my blue balls. (Sadly true).. and, close your ears: I've 'sharted' before. Carrying on, let's pretend I'm ordinary:

"In October, the Rhode Island Supreme Court entered a final judgment for Charles "Chick" Lennon, 68, against the manufacturer of a penile implant he had received in 1996 but which perpetually remains somewhat erect. (He says he has to wear a fanny pack in front to conceal it.) He had originally won $750,000 for his pain and humiliation, reduced to $400,000, but then back up to $950,000, which he is scheduled to receive." DUMBASS, I'D BE PAYING THE DOCTOR THAT AMOUNT.

An Art teacher in Virginia was fired after it was discovered he was seen on the internet dipping his butt in paint and creating "butt art" on a blank canvas. Shit, I wonder if he read the blog here about life being a blank canvas - make it what you want.

From the "I wonder if they too had cataracts" page: Gas Pedal? Brake Pedal? Whatever... Of elderly drivers and confusion: Age 89, Dearborn, Mich. backed into his own garage, panicked, accelerated into a neighbor's house across the street... age 89, New London, Conn - plowed through a summer festival crowd, injuring 27... age 86, Brookfield, Wis. - drove through front doors of a McDonald's, hehe, "Honey, I'm going to go getme onea them AARP discounted Egg McMuffins, brb."... age 84, Tamarac, Fla. - backed over her landlord, then panicked and drove over him again, then panicked and backed over him again, with one of the drive-overs fatal..

"Police in Groningen, Netherlands, announced that a 40-year-old man whom they had previously counseled had once again resumed his compulsion to rummage through garbage seeking discarded tampons (and leaving notes for the discarders)" <-- EWW, I don't think I'da even read that in the Star!!!

I LOVE A PARADE: "Pamela Majdan, 23, was charged with domestic battery in Wood Dale, Ill., on Memorial Day after allegedly repeatedly beating her sister, Joyce, 31, in a dispute over who had caught the most pieces of candy tossed during the town's holiday parade."

WELCOME TO WALMART: Even though protests grow against Wal-Mart for supposedly treating its employees badly, Kellie Guderian is not fazed. In October, she and her husband won Iowa's $200 million Powerball lottery, but she cheerfully said she was keeping her job at the Fort Dodge Wal-Mart. Guderian, said her husband, "loves her job, and the people she works with are like family." YEAH!!! That's JUST what I'd do!!!

Thanks for the "up" Chuck. Remember, if you do something weird... you know... like maybe sticking some pot up a body cavity so you can take on board a cruise ship.. .not to worry.. there's all kindsa weird shit out there!

Happy day, WeirdTurd...

The twit....

There's a guy at work I email back and forth to... I gotta be real careful when communicating with him though as he just can't seem to figure out the emails below came before the one on top. I dunno how many times I've emailed him to relate something... then, I will have forgotten to add a minor detail or two – so I'll immediately email him back with the forgotten detail.. "Ahm, they said they'd be able to deliver this by next Tuesday."... and bingo, three seconds later I'll get an email "WHO? Who said they'll be able to deliver? And deliver what?".. I catch my breath, say underneath to myself "GD Jay (oops) READ THE FRIGGIN' EMAIL BELOW!... so, reckon the same holds true in blogs.

Signed in at 8am. One by one, the little ladies dressed in all blues walked out.. The first was a cute little shit, but to be honest, she looked grumpy and was it was quickly perceived she thought she was "all that." Nope, hope it ain't her – WHEW, she walked by me. Smiley one followed.. Oh PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE say "Victor?"... Nope, wasn’t her.. A few more dull ones… another smiley one... still... I sat.

Finally, outta the left corner of my eye... Ok dammit, you got me... She was standing right in fronta me… "Victor??".. Gulp, it was Ms. "All that.".. Why me Lord, tell me what did I do... then allofasudden she flashes me this beautiful (hey I'm friendly) smile –and says "can you follow me?" Ok, I'll back off my original take momentarily here.

She wipes off the machine where I'm sposedta stick my head... tosses back and forth nice, idle chat.. I peek in and see the same hot air balloon I'd seen the other two trips to the doc... and then we're off to another room. "Why don't you sit there Victor, and I can take your coat and that envelope for you." Now I feel bad. Twit ain'ta twit. She's nice as hell. Way to young for me, but she's also pretty as hell. PERVERT. AM NOT. ARE TOO. AM NOT…. Well, she was pretty….

"For insurance purposes, I need to record what problems you are having.. now we've already copied some (night driving, blurriness, etc) from other appointments..." then she looked down at me with these 20-something GORGEOUS DEEP GREEN EYES and said "Ahm, are you having any troubles distinguishing colors." If I was her age I woulda said "Not no's but hells no's – and you got somea the most gorgeous eyes I've ever seen!" .. but I said "ahm, no, no problems with colors." PERVERT! AM NOT.. ARE TOO. AM NOT..

"Ma’am, can I ask is this what you've always wanted to do?" - thinking maybe she'd reply, "no.. this was all the temp service had open at the time.." instead she said "well, to be honest, when I started this 7 years ago (YES! YES! YES!) it wasn't the plan – but honestly it's been a good career decision for me." Whew, she probably didn't have her W-2 with her anyways... I sunk safely further into the chair…

She's explainin' what will happen during the surgery… "So… we'll put some eyedrops in to numb your eyes... then we'll give you something to relax".. Hell yeah, good thus far...I spout out "and then the IV comes next?"... "No, we don't do that any more.." "Oh (I counter) – so after the drops have had awhile to work then you'll gimme that needle that'll numb it even further?" "No sir, we no longer do that either.. Doctor will make a small incision.." and she went on to explain the whole deal.. "the artificial lens is pliable – so we can bend in half to fit through the incision.. they usedta have to cut a BIG half circle around your eye to get the old kind in… now it's all virtually painless.... and you'll have better vision immediately following the surgery." This is all too good, there's gotta be a catch somewheres....

"Now, let’s measure your eyes." Good God - here it comes - she's gonna grab a can opener and head back toward me... Instead, she slides this machine thingy over... it had a little suction cup on it (kinda looked like onea those things you stick on a window and hang ornaments from) – "I'm gonna put this on your eye – it won't hurt.. there's a saline solution that will flow into your eye.. it's ok if you blink.. and please just try to stare at the red dot." Took about two minutes per eye. (YES! They measured BOTH!)..

Ok, egg on my face. She wasn't a twit. She was a bright, young, intelligent, kind lady. VICTOR YOU GD PERVERT – you said her eyes were gorgeous.. Yes – I did say that, and they were. SO? Do we have to go over alla this again? No.. we don't.. . (Unless Jay just got here we don't)..

Ms. Twit, you were Ms. Nice. Inside I apologized – outside I said "thanks... you're very good at what you do." Nice smile returned, I was off to work. Never did hear how big they are – but, seems they got that crap under control so life is good. I'd measured it all wrong. Happy day, Love, Victurd

Justabout halfway between a cueball anda golfball....

8:00am Thursday I gotta be there. "Victor, we'll need to measure your eye." Now, he said this the other day when I was in to see if I needed surgery. "I'm not real sure we've got anyone here now that can do it." Aww doc, you mean - cha ching - another fitty dollar co-pay? (I mean, I saw the fuggers Mercedes, he didn't need the money that bad.) "No, no... there'll not be a co-pay for that.. you just come in and it takes a few minutes - no copay." Ok, had I screwed it up? Was he thinkin' "I bet he's a GD democrat... that'll teach him... I'm gonna put that lens up just a shade to close so he'll be runnin' inta walls like a cross-eyed cat."

So here I is, 8 hours and 12 minutes away from getting my eyeball measured. How do they do that shit I wonder? I mean I can see measuring your testicle - they can get all around that... or your nipple... or even your penis.. 'Doc, can you record it in centimeters so I'll sound 'special'? HEhe......

But do they take the fucking eye out? You've seen those little things at the hardware store with accelerated sized circles - do they remove the whole GD thing and then see which size hole it'll drop down? Will I be able to see as it drops thru the circle thingy? Do they leave it in and measure by putting their thumbs together/fingers up like an artist? Do they have this measuring thingy they screw on your nose and it extends out? HTF do they do it?

Are eyes like some women's titties? No, for real, you've seen some cases where lefty was justa shade bigger... What if they cut two new lenses exactly the same size and my righty is bigger? Will I always then walk toward the Northeast? I mean, it could be awesome on the Nascar circuit - always kinda anglin' left, but it'd suck on I-70... "Ahm.. Sanford? Can you come get me? I'm on I-70.. I was headed East to Columbia... oh, but my car's over on the Westbound side somewhere around Woods Chapel."

How much friggin' education does the little twit who's measuring my eyeball have? I mean did she like start out with a temp service? "Here Sally, try this here measurin' shit.. shouldn't takeya 30, oh maybe 40 paira eyeballs to get the hang of it." WHAT IF SHE JUST STARTED? That's it, I'm askin to see her GD 2006 W-2. If that bitch hasn't worked minimum six months, I'm outta there.

No offense to you women, but what if she's on her period? I mean, I remember whatshername usedta get mad at me and I hadn't done anything but breathed.. How's her fucking handwriting? Do her 9's look like 7's... does she ziggle down the enda the 6 so it might be mistaken for an 8? Oh shit.

Are your eyes the same size in the winter as they are in the summer? "Doc, we can put this off until the weather is middle ground... u know, mebbe like April?"

My friend Kathie talked to someone who'd just had the cataract surgery.. "They bringya in.. they put a whole bucha drops in to numb the eye.. then they give you valium (F'n A RAY)... then they put an IV in... then they inject more numbing stuff with a needle." (Oh boy I'm so excited... I wish I had four friggin eyes)...

"The first day you can't see anything.... the second day, you will have continual double vision.. everything will be double." BUT I GOTTA REF SATURDAY!!! Ok, surgery is Wednesday... Referee Saturday.. I can just see it... tweeeeeet "double dribble"... tweeet - "double dribble"... tweeeeet "double dribble"... mebbe I oughta skip a week.

Ah, I'm not really nervous... remember, Doc's an MU grad.... Twas a bit scary to think he graduated in '98, which means of course he was walkin' around in diapers my third 2nd year of college. Geez. Doc, can I have a weeks wortha valium just to get kinda primed for alla this?

Ok, seeya later... I'll fillya in on how they actually do measure it... Oh, btw, the other was 13.97 centimeters. You friggin' perverts - you're actually gonna go convert that aren't ya? May life measure up to your hopes, love Victurd.

Bling - Bling... Avon calling...

Nanny nanny boo boo stick your hand in Dippity-doo... hehe...

Sorry... always have, probably always will be "common man." Yes, my car sucks - but I think I've told the story of it here before - so I'll drive until the doors fall off... one is pretty close I think!

I guess the only time I threatened to someday become a potential "blinger" was when we owned the delivery business...and it was truly headed in the right direction. Gave that up ("you gotta pick me or the business" <-- swing and a miss) and lord knows I've had twelve too many jobs - but I ain't gotta lotta regret...

I've used wands to guide in a 747... I got to call a timeout 33 seconds before a state championship basketball game ended in our favor... I worked delivering to grocery stores on "The Avenue" - saw things like guys filling up carts with cartons of Kools - running out the door aheada security -- saw indigents rummaging thru dumpsters - and then the ones that followed after to pickout anything that might have been missed... I always wondered why those stores couldn't keep dry cat food on the shelves - then I finally figured it out...

I've manicured baseball fields... golf greens... labors of love... I checked in celebrities, athletes, and many many nice folks at the airport... I taught elementary PE and gotta tell kids to "run from this sidea the gym to that sidea the gmn as if you were an elephant... a snake... a rabbit...."... Started a little company that made $60 the first month - and was living off of it by the third month...

Quit jobs on principle.. Have hated unequal treatment of folks - and generally will speakup or get the hell out when it happens.... I've sold, I've told, I've worked in the cold... and now I'm old. Got-ta go anywhere we wanted to go for $6 coach, $12 (bling) First Class...

Would I like to have money? Oh sure... Are all people that have money rotten? No, certainly not.. Are there rotten poor folks as well as rotten blingers? Hell yeah. Once heard "the saddest thing there is is the sad rich man, for he has no hope."

I've done too GD much, and met not enough. Abouta year ago, boss asked if I wanted business cards... I've had business cards in the past - and I always hated them 'cause it was like "this is who he is".. and it wasn't.. I am me, I ain't my job. I am me, and yes I am my bank account. I told my boss I wasa footsoldier and that I didn't need any business cards.

One guy I once knew meta chick - she asked for his card - and said she only dated $100,000 a year men - and that she would research his background. Certainly her prerogative - but I too wonder how many good hearts she passed by. I guess the same could be said by us piggy men who quite frankly tend to ask based on looks.

Bottomline, I'm comfy in my own skin. I'm comfy if you ain't comfy with me. I'm happy if you are comfy with me. I love redneck jokes, and sometimes I resemble them. (Blingers close your ears: my key broke off in the ignition - so - I start it with a straight screwdriver... hehe... PLEASE don't come steal it though!)... I don't hate those with money - but I admit it's hard to relate.. Perhaps vicea versa...

I love this world because we have freedom of choice. Whatever your bank balance - I hope your life is filled with good, fun and happiness. I did actually once have a dog that hada pedigree.. (Smokey Butterball... he was a 3 yr old Yorkie who'd lived in the cage of a breeder for those three years... bought him for $25 at puppy mill auction as he was deemed "too big, undesirous to sire".) After a year of hiding behind the bed - he finally learned to run free like the wind. I miss him.

Again, God Bless our ability for freedom of choice. Happy day... oh.. and canya lend me fitty? I gotta nuther friggin' co-pay upcoming, and I'm justa tad bit short! Love, Victurd

If you wanna impress me Stevie....

Caller ID said "Liberty Eye Center". Shit, this is really happenin' ain't it? So, I'd gone into the specialist... forgot and wore my Missouri jacket... THANK GOD when I walked into his office there were University of Missouri Diplomas plastered allover the walls... I could just see some Chickenhawk Doctor messin' with me... Puttin' the lens in backwards... mebbe with a Chickenhawk insignia on it so that'd be forced to stare at that all day.. Maybe an see-thru image of Mangino.. Shit.

Visit was good. He talked about "can do this for distance, but I really think you need this (nearsighted I think)... now if we do this – it would affect things like your distance, say, in playing golf." Doc, I've always sucked at golf, this stagea my life – let's work on the reading/close up stuff. A slight chuckle. I mean, I want this man to like me – and to not fucking sneeze just as he starts the incision. Or, to think, "this is a grumpy old fart – who cares if I make an error." God I hope he gets a good night's sleep, and that his kids are behaved the night before.. I wonder if I called his wife the day before if she'd doink him that night so he'd be in a good mood when he came to cut. I hope he'll get decaf at QT that morning. I hope he doesn't get drunk the night before.. "Ooops… sorry Victor."

One eye is considerably worse than the other. "Victor, I think we'll do the stronger of the two eyes first." Gulp. Visions of Jose Feliciano ran thru my head. Georgia on my mind.. Tell me what I say… WHY CUT ON THE GOOD EYE FIRST? Whad'if it doesn't work?

Eddie Murphy and Stevie Wonder were driving down the road.. Lil' Stevie takes out his harmonica.. starts jammin' very nicely... Eddie, looking straight ahead and not gyrating.. turns to Stevie and says "Stevie, you wanna impress me... take the wheel."

Ok, I'll get the hell outta here now. Game plan is right eye 1/31... GD I gotta miss the next day's work too. If I can still see to drive in two weeks – left eye on Valentine's Day. I hope my co-workers who gave me the GD moldy honey bun to eat don't gimme a box of 'Valentine's chocolate candy' that's really filled with doggy chunks. The bastards, wouldn't put it past them. I'm sure glad Kendra doesn't read this. (Our IT guy blocked her, hehe.)

So, by my final followup on 3/12 I'll be damn close to bein' outta sick leave. Oh well. Life goes on. Seeya later (I hope).
Love, Victurd

Pervert......

AM NOT.. ARE TOO... AM NOT!!... ARE TOO...

Such is a typical verbal cubicle exchange betweengst me and my buddy, Kendra. How to describe Kendra.. Holy shit, ya got an hour? She's early 20's.. She's a snowflake, she's extremely intelligent (GD I hope she doesn't read this).. other women can be jealous of her because she wears things where 2/3's of her boobies are sticking out - and there's still more leftover underneath than they got.. she's the type that most assuredly led many a vice principal in charge of discipline to drink - as she knows exactly how far she can push - and she smells inequity a mile away.

I plan, I conspire, I attack - and in a millisecond she has a retort that not only puts me in my place, but causes me to wimpily retreat and wonder why I even tried in the first place. For all of the above - I love her, in spitea the fact she'll occasionally give my butt a love pat as she walks by. Some day, if she really pisses me off, I'm gonna turn her in. It's a unique working relationship - and I ain't sure I coulda handpicked someone from within the building I'd more like to share a cubicle with. What's more, she's very good at what she does - but sometimes some people can't see past the "push the envelope" exterior and recognize that.

Anyways, with the exception of my two cats - of late she probably knows me better than anyone. I tell her exactly what's on toppa my brain - and she kinda sorta shares her life with me as well.

The other day, I'd visited her myspace thingy, saw a picture of onea her friends from a company we both work very closely with - so outta curiosity I went to read the profile. This friend is in her early 20's - and as I looked at the pics I thought to myself "GD, she oughta be a model, she's gorgeous." So, I winged same in an email to Kendra.. and was met with the reply "quit being spooky." Pervert. AM NOT. ARE TOO. AM NOT!!!!!

So I ask you - is it being a pervert if you see someone that's gorgeous - and you share that opinion with someone else? I have no notions of May-September relationships - and lord knows - being married 20+ years to someone almost 8 yrs younger - I'd get up every morning, look in the mirror and think "how old do I look today?"...

That... and... Many many years ago - I was a 20-something sprite myself.. We were at a post-softball game bash (of which we were fairly practiced) and onea my teammates moms (she 50-something) had hung around the keg too long - and I was shocked as she grabbed my hand and placed it on her breast. That, in and of itself, educated me on how wrong stuff like that is - and I've carried it with me my entire life. I've carred hope a similar event (with someone my own age) would play out again - but damn daddy, hasn't happened!

I'm gonna keep writing, so go take a nap - come back - or hell, close this up and please return another day....

Whilst I might seriously entertain the May-September thing in a dream with Elisabeth Shue (sorry... I just happen to think she's onea the most gorgeous people on the planet) - I have an affinity for people who always maintain a smile on their face - and one such is another young pup - Drew Barrymore.

Recent article I read spoke of her "crooked smile." I'd never heard it termed thataway - but it's perfect. She DOES have a crooked smile. I'd like to think (and I think I do) I too have a crooked smile. Kinda like "you go ahead and take this life as serious.. nomme.. I'm gonna smile alst the while - and you're only left to guess what is crossing my preverted brain." AM NOT. AM TOO. AM NOT.. Ok, maybe I am, hell, I dunno.

Why I love Drew Barrymore: She was pretty much neglected as a child. By age 12 she was drinking and using cocaine. At age 13 she was in rehab. And by age 15, the little lady who'd stolen America's hearts in ET - was working in a Hollywood Coffee Shop. With apologies to Parade Magazine Drew's take on that time "I'm really glad for that time in my life - having to ride the bus.. struggling to pay my rent.. getting heckled by people."

The rest is now history... from the infamous jumping on Letterman's desk and flashing him.. to her more movie roles... to her own production company...

Again, sorry to copy Parade - but I loved what her brain expoused next... for we ALL could learn from it "It was hard. You want to place the blame on people, but I don't think it's fair. You're dealt the cards that you're dealt. You can't let that be your downfall or a springboard to become something better. For me, I just thought 'what a waste of time to feel sorry for myself.' The best thing I can do is learn from all the things I've learned from them, good and bad, have my own family someday, and just keep going. So many things are thrown at us as human beings, but you can't let any of them get you down, or you're just going to be defeated." With apologies to anyone born after 1970 - Far Out.

I love Drew's crooked smile. I love the fact it literally adorns her face 99.9% of the time. I love the fact one of her favorite things to do whilst in Ireland is to find an open field, take off all her duds, and run naked to her hearts content.

Pervert. AM NOT. AM TOO. AMMMM NOT!!!!! Ok, hell. Maybe AM SOME. Ain't there a little prevertedness in us all? May you admire beauty of all kinds of all ages - but please remember not to get carried away and place their hand on your booby. And Kendra, quit smackin' my butt... pervert. Love, Preverturd....

Of life and communication....

I was in hotel sales for a bit... A Hilton property... I was kinda proud of my job... and... after a few months of struggling, I was starting to turn the corner in getting bookings for the property.. (The old Hilton @ 45th and Main for any Kansas Citians here)...

My boss (who happened to be a female)was very businesslike - and to be quite frank - wouldn't give me the time of day... In the short duration I was there - 4 of the 7 of us got fired by her.. With them odds, hell yes I started looking for a job... I worked my ass off - but I just knew - no matter what I'd done - it wouldn't be enough and I would be out on the street and at the God forlorn unemployment office - been there, hated that. (and, for whatever reason, the GD utility companies keep wanting their money - and the "but I just lost my job" line doesn't go to far with them...

So... I finally found a suitable job - got my ducks in a row - and went into boss's office to give my notice... Very much to my surprise she spouts out "But you were doing so well, and I was thinking of giving you "such-and-sucha" market." (BIG pay raise. This from a lady that hadn't given me the time of day - only periodic glances over the toppa her glasses.. Communication lines sucked - and probably my fault.

We've all seen (or participated in) the old school thing where you have a group of people seated in a circle - you whisper a sentence into the ear of the first person.. and the first person repeats what he heard into the ear of the second person, etc., etc., etc., until ya get to the end and laughter is brought out when the final person repeats the butchered sentence which isn't anything like the original sentence..

I ran into my best friend's wife the other day... She point blank told me her hubby was upset with me because 5 years ago I didn't attend the wedding of their daughter - and that was the reason I wasn't even invited to his 2nd daughter's wedding.. I offer no excuses other than I was in the 'pity party' mode at the time = and that excuse doesn't hold water. I wanted to shout back "YEAH.. BUT WE GRADUATED IN 1970, AND DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY TIMES HE'S CALLED ME ON THE PHONE SINCE THEN? ZERO, ABSOLUTELY NEVER" - but I didn't.. So, we're both at fault.

Maybe to everyone but one person reading this - this whole damn thing won't make sense.. but to the one who maybe it does - I'm sorry communication has sucked the last 2-3 days - and I'm very tickled perhaps it's not too late to try again...

May you all have a happy Sunday - and if in the backa your mind there rings a bell about a communication problem and "I wonder whatinthehell happened" - today is a good time to unlock that - dig in and re-open lines of communication that you once cherished. It seems life's problems many, many times happen without intent - and it's too shorta GD stay here to not try to fix 'em. Happy fixin', love Victurd.

I love my friend Rick....

Ok, you've heard this before – not a gay bone in my body – and that's true. That ain't the kinda love I'm talking about… Last night – as I headed back to Liberty – twas 9-ish and I just wasn't ready to go home. Yes, swung by that place – went in – small, comfy crowd.

Standing at the bar – was my friend Rick. Rick's my age – we'd played more games of softball/baseball together than I can remember – and had spent as many if not more hours before games, traveling, after games, practices, social settings – etc.

Walked up to offer my hand in friendship – received his smile – gave mine back – and just then I noticed a tear coming from his left eye. "What's wrong Rick?"... Awww, nothing... I'm Ok... "No come on, something's up – please tell me."

Well... I just dropped my buddy Tom off… (Tom is a 50-something stroke victim – who outwardly isn't the same person he usedta be.. His speech is affected, his right side no longer moves as his left, he's slower... but it's the same ole Tom inside) I just feel so badly for him. I wish there were something I could simply do for him medically. Tonight, we had a few beers – and now I worry that he's maybe falling down inside his house. I walked him to the door – and he made it in Ok.

I'm thinking here's this big, burly, puppy dog of a man – and he's crying because he simply can't do anything for his friend. "Rick, you're so wrong... what you did tonight was wonderful... Do you realize how many people have written Tom off as it's their belief ‘'he's not the same ole guy'?" Yeah... I know… but I just feel bad there's nothing more I can do for him..

Rick did a lot for Tom. I'm certain if Tom did fall - he'd trade a good ole lump on his noggin' for a night out with his old bud Rick any day. Especiallly today. I would gather, people that are 'affected' – appreciate when another human treats them as if they weren't. Rick did that – because he remembers today is just (if not more) as important for Tom than yesterday was. Some friends quit, others crank it up. God Bless Rick for cranking it up. A small gesture – but assuredly huge from the shoes of Tom. Friends and music – they're best cranked. Love, Victurd.

Ask Sherwin Williams........

"Hi sir... I'd like to purchase some paint that'll last me until the enda time... You know, like the initial premise of that stupid Meatloaf song... Whaddya got?"

Well sir, we have 10-yr warranty paint, 20 year warranty and 25 year warranty paint. "Well GD... sorry sonny boy, know it ain't your fault... but I hope to kiss a pig I'll be around longer than that. Let's first work on hues."

Well... we have Jaaaahnson County blue... "Nah, too GD hustle-bustle-uppity-uppity-no dirt under my fingernails for me... what's next?"... Parkville Pink? "Nah, thanks.. but no thanks.. I see Zona Rosa and it's cool and all - but I want history... a little bit-a history if I'm gonna look at this paint day in day out until the day I pee my pants and forget my name.."

Ahm, we have KC and the Sunshine Yellow... "No... thanks... all lit up like that, hell, we may get robbed at night... and, too GD chirpy for me... I wanna place where I can wake up... no worries.. no arguments... A softer hue."

Well, we paint-mixers are kinda passionate people, are you saying you don't want passion? "Hell no sonny I ain't sayin' that, in fact, you're barkin' up my GD tree now.. I don't want some unnoticable paint where I'll go thru the motions and the days will run out.. I want a paint that'll be passionite, like you say... and where from time to time it'll disagree with me - and do so with that GD passion ura talkin' about... More, tell me more.."

Well, we have this new 'flavor'... It ain't too bright, ain't too soft.. ain't shiny as hell, and ain't dull as hell.. It comes in virtually every color and every tint of the rainbow - a very versatile "been there, done that" kinda paint - yet new to the market...

"Lemme askya friend... is this paint sooooo ecologically perfect, so 'forgetful of what's underneath from all the years... so GD nice I could get naked, dip my body in it.. and rub up agin the walls as I see fit?" Well sir, I hadn't heard it put quite like that, but yes... this paint will cover up all the scars from yesteryear - and whilst you will know they are under there - it'll be like a brand new start for you. "More sonny, keepa goin'"...

Well... you know, since there are miles and miles on your walls.. it won't exactly look new - but then agin' it won't have that "hey look at me... I got it goin' again - I'm 50 goin' on 35 look" sheen/fad where you'll haveta repaint again in five years... "Yeah, yeah.. more, keepa goin'." Sir, I believe you'll like it.. Again, it covers your past - but won't let you forget... it'll bring you brighter tomorrows - but without the GD fake sheen... and it'sa tone you can admire, be passionate about... have a whole lotta fun with... and have a peaceful ride out whilst you stare at it.

Is there any guarantee attached to this 'new flavor' you be spoutin' about? "On this one sir, no.. I'm sorry - there are no guarantees.." Well what if I only purchase a gallon now.. and then I just test it for awhile.. you know, likea halfa gallon.. are you saying it won't get all stale.. there won't be pressure if I try to open and there won't be a blown lid? "I wasn't gonna tell you this sir - but since you've pressed this far... I will tell you this is what we call our AARP paint." Bastards, the fuckin' bastards... Oh, Ok, after lookin' at all them GD discounts they offered, I reckon I won't be offended in the future to ask for one.. Hehe, been a lotta years since I had my ID checked... this could be fun... carry on."

Well... the AARP paint has been tested and tested over time. There have been errors, spilt paint, splattering, and even some running in the tests of time we've run... "Yeah? More, more." Our experts, sir, have determined there is no such thing as perfection.. it's very rare nowadays for the same paint to stay on one's walls an entire lifetime. "Uh huh, agreed." So this is the concept from our experts. We figured people like you.. don't get offended, but people like you who've "been down that road before" will be looking for a painted future like this.

"Well, sonny boy, lemme shake your hand. I'm very appreciative of hearing what you say - and you can give thanks to your experts for knowing this 'paint-buying' experience - especially at my age - is a GD important thing." Well, I'm appreciative of the kind words sir... May I grab a few gallons for you?

"Well, I've learned, thankfully by now, not to make hasty decisions over time... I'm gonna think on this for a bit if you don't mind... I'm gonna try to envision those walls... and attempt to rule out this worry/that worry... but believe me - I won't forget where you're at... and the wonderful potential promise of the walls of tommorow."

Happy painting, however you make your strokes... love, Victurd

Autograph session: Sports Nuts, Saturday 1pm, Computer Bowling Champ, fitty cents each..

Thankyou, thankyou, thankya very much. I'll have you know, you are reading words written by THE poster of THE high score on Golden T bowling @ The Corner Bar... oh... it was the high score for AT LEAST the last three weeks or so. I'm gonna get an agent. Maybe a few models. New digs. Pimp my ride some. Pitch fits, talk trash and do a little dance next time they televise onea our events, oh, and wear my hat slightly askew. And I'll probably come up with a charity where you all can contribute through me. Trust me on that one, k?

"It's ole 'one-shot Vic's turn isn't it?" Screw you Steve, you'e beaten me 342 times in a row, and you continue to call me 'one-shot Vic.' In fact, I lost so much GD (gosh darn) money to you Saturday night, I've financed the first three semesters of your snotnose stepson' college.

"The son-of-a-bitch got another strke." (I did).. This is where I don' say a word, walk back as uncockily as I can, and laugh like hell inside. PLEASE PLEASE LORD, I know I'm at the Corner Bar and I prolly shouldn' be, but PLEASE help to help me keep this up... k? Oh, and I PROMISE I'll come Sunday...

"GD-it (gosh-darnit) I got ANOTHER open." (Steve).. This is where I sit calmly in my chair and whoop it up inside YES, YES, YES, you dumbass! You've beaten me 612 consecutive times – HA HA HA.. Keep it up on the misses… then I calmly take my turn.

"Crap… ANOTHER one." (Vic – strike).. Yes, again face – please no emotion as I walk back to the cruddy barstool. Serves them bastards right. Hell, I'ma struggling single parent ofa kid who ain't gotta job, my car is held together with duct tape, bailing wire and prayer... HELL YES I say to myself… This is MY time to shine – and this will teach you Steve for always stealing the 'green-guy' you know I like to be..

Ok, I actually won. My name will be atop the rotating screen..oh, until they change it again Friday (dammit.).. I'd won before, but it's kinda been a drought – you know, like my intimacy world. There'd been a hitch in the getalong. I wanted to scream, I wanted to laugh, I wanted to make fun – but didn't have it in me. For I enjoy their company too much to do so. We gather, we yap sports, we trade memories of back in the day of when we could still actually run... oh – and last night the only channel we could get had the Hooters woman-of-the-year-bikini contest on – so we forced ourselves to watch it.

Like a balloon that's been pricked, I reckon occasionally we gotta let a little pressure out. Yes, perhaps upon occasion I go too frequently – but, the friggin cats don't talk much... and the only other noises I hear around there are Gladys Kravets hollerin' at her young'ns... so it's good to get away.

So bring two shiney quarters... maybe some George's for my charity thingy.. and come see me.. I may or may not pretend to know you. Oh, and that one chick that keeps flirting back. You got twenty years or so to stop that shit.

Love, Victurd.

A burnin' ring of fire....

Combustible Cell Phone Burns California Man:

Luis Picaso, 59, sustained second- and third-degree burns after his cell phone apparently burst into flames, quickly igniting his polyester blend pants, nylon shirt and windbreaker, said William Tweedy, lead investigator and spokesman for the fire department in the Northern California town of Vallejo.

Why SHAME on you... You were thinking about calling an ex... or an ex's new mate weren't you?... or your boss? Or, that GD nosy neighbor next door?

Love is a burning thing
And it makes a firey ring
Bound by ones desire
I fell down into a ring of fire

I fell into a burning ring of fire
Went down down down and the flames went higher
It burns burns burns that ring of fire.. that ring of fire...

Hello Operator? Yes, might you share the cell phone number for... ahm... _____ ________ PLEASE?

Happy dialing, Victurd

Mish mash......

I love the newspaper. Read/learn all kindsa stuff. Today I read (and I'd honestly wondered if this would happen) that 4 cars were stolen yesterday in the JoCo area of our frozen tundra as folks at work went out early, started 'em up to warm up, went back inside to finish out the day.. Really kinda pisses me off though… I've wasted $27.96 in gas since this ice-crap set in.. I've run my car for 8 hours straight, each day at work – yet it's still there when I get off at 5pm. Don't criminals know a 'ride' when they see one?

"Baseball Ray" is 76 today. Onea my favorite actors. You know, James Earl Jones. Had insomnia the eve of MLK day – twas a movie (true story) on about 1am about this pastor (who happened to be black) at Dexter Baptist Church in Birminham, Alabama in 1948. JEJ played it awesome – as he always does – and seeing this movie even further increased my hatred for racism. Coincidentally, after this pastor was released from duties for trying to convince his congregation to not accept the Jim Crow tactics of whites – two years later they hired a young chap named Martin Luther King.

Betty White is 85, Jim Carrey is 45, and Kid Rock is 36. Which to the left are old? Oh sorry, we did that yesterday.

My horoscope today reads "you might be more comfortable working from home or being more low key." Well, with the exception of an occasional outburst at the stupid fax machine we have – I am pretty low key. If you'll remember a few weeks back though, the feelings of a co-worker were hurt by something I'd written here. Twasn't my intent at all, and if the reader had kept up all this time – I think they’d understand that. The person that was hurt ain't a reader of this, but that person would have control as to whether or not I could work from home. Are we still networking here?

Trying to put a positive spin on the current frozen tundra/weather state of affairs… Uno) Yes, it causes "shrinkage". But hey, I would think – in addition to 'that' – it would then make sense that it reduces my waistline... Dos) Every day we wake up, there is more daylight than the day before... Tres) The freeze has gotta make "human kindling" feel even that much better – or so I would guess…. Quatro) It can cause hibernation. Gracie, please don’t hate me. I know I was sposeta go see your son last night – I got home at 5:40pm, took a nap, woke up at 11:42pm... oh shit.

Ok, I'm outta here. Sorry this was boring (and I ain't saying it isn't always boring) but my fingers were frozen, my brain eh, semi-grumpy, and from time to time there's justa mess up there North of my eyebrows. I do still loveya though. Victurd.

Someone asked "what is old?"

Hell, I dunno. When I was a kid, old was anyone that drove – or, wore football pads. When I was in college, old was the professor who smoked the pipe. (No, not the kind professors nowadays smoke).

In my 30's, grandparents were old. In my 40's, World War II vets were old. As I sat eating breakfast the other day – the kids who worked at the joint literally hung out with this feller (hadta be in his 80's) who was old, and sharp as hell. I idolize that guy, and hope I'm the same way – not opinionated about youngsters…

When I got my GD (gosh darn) AARP literature in the mail on my 50th, I felt old – and pissed – and in disbelief. There's a chick at work I now hate, 'cause her boyfriend got in a fistfight with "an elderly guy.. you know, he was 50." No, I don't really hate her – and I was in fact gonna get outta my chair and argue that point with her – but my body ached too much to get up – so I didn't….

Old is the mold on that honey bun. Old is a yellowed newspaper. Old is World War I. Old is 8-track, black-and-white TV, separate drinking fountains/restrooms for the different colors. Old is an opinion that "my opinion is the only opinion." Old is relatives on their third night in your home. Old is hearing a Vegas slot machine on your 4th day there.

Old is a half gallon of January 11 milk today. Old is "talkies". Old is Amos and Andy, Barney, Opie, Aunt Bea, Clem Kadiddlehopper, Car 54, Johnny Cash, Sky King, Mickey Mantle, Willie Nelson, George Sr, Grandpa Munster, The Lone Ranger, Ed Ames, Mr. Ed, Mr. Rogers, Mr. Potato Head.

Old is getting your coffee at McDonalds for 20% less.. Old is the bottom cheeseburger closest to the counter. Old is "when you grow up." Old is when you remember going to your job. Old is when you don't remember going to your job. Old can be peeing your pants and forgetting your name. Old can be 24/7 ambulatory in Golden Acres.

Old is the last clean pair of undies flipped the day prior to laundry day. Old is the load ya forget to get outta the washer from yesterday. Old is the pair of jeans waaaaay down there in the closet that ya ain't seen in three years. Old is the waist size of the pair of jeans waaaaay down there in the closet ya ain't seen in three years. Old is Nehru jackets.. Old is white saddle oxfords..

Old is the first Rocky. Old is the most recent Rocky. Old is a Cherry Mash. Old is Dot Candy. Old is a pencil sharpener. Old is a 45, a 33. Old is a flashbulb camera. Old is tomorrow. Scary ain't it? Old is the open but half drank beer in the fridge from Saturday night… Old is snail mail. Old is perfect handwriting (and grammar.) <-- old is forming opinions like that! Old is a photograph of when you were younger. Old is a photograph of when your parents were younger.

Getting old is all of us. Old is a state of mind. When the mind goes, old is the state. We ain't gotta get old. Ask that guy at the grocery store yapping with the young punks. He ain't old.

Old is yur pants hiked up too high and complaining about the Government. Old is having to pay into social security. Old is social security. Old is retirement. Old is greeting folks at WallyWorld.

Old is some idiot who continues to babble about a topic that's getting old. Old is overstaying your welcome. Oh, you mean me? Ok you old bastard, I'll quit. Now whothehell are you and why are you here? With elderly love, Victurd.

I'm gonna poop for six months and ten days.......

No, not because I had the "El Grande" meal at El Sombrero... this is in my life how much time Ill spend on the toilet... or your life/your throne... Just onea the statistics I found... You know, figuring 10 minutes a day, times 365 days a year.. times 75.9 years (average life expectancy now 77.9, figured I'd deduct a couple years for diapers)....

Sleep? Yes, I do, and lots. We, on average, spend 26 years, eleven months and five days asleep. THAT'S some shuteye....

Sex? You pervert, I knew you'd ask... I ain't real sure if I figured it correctly - but I kinda feel cool with my numbers 'cause I threw out the high (Jenna Jameson) and low (Victurd) to come up with an average number. I seena US Survey (I dunno if our tax dollars paid for it... but if they did, I say kudos to whomever had the nads to approve.. I like that style more than repairing some ole dumb bridge or Interstate road)... anyways.. "We" in our lifetime spend 38 days, 9 and 1/2 hours having sex. Ahm, the survey didn't say anything about whether this was with someone, but I assumed it was. And no, you GD perve (said with love) I didn't study how long we have 'independent' sex.

I wasa little disappointed in my internet surfing 'abilities' to come up with stats on how we spend our lives... so ifya know a good site, by all means, please share...

We'll spend 7 years, 2 months and 5 days watching TV. Oh, and did you know women will spend nearly 2 and 1/2 years on their hair in an average lifetime?

I also learned that in my life I'll spend $219,000 on cigarettes. If I suddenly quit, and started purchasing hookers, maybe I could catch up to the resta you guys on the sex thingy...

I dunno how many hours we'll spend in our life in an icestorm - but I think I've already exceeded how many I want to... Geez Louise was that bizarre? Sounded as if God unleashed barrels and barrels of "BB's" and they were falling into cardboard boxes.

I'd pulled ole' checkenginelight into HyVee for my weekly breakfast, parked in my normal downhill agin the curb (cause I ain't got P, only RNDL) - thought to self "self, howinthehell are you gonna get this thing back up the hill in this ice" - and then I worried about putting the foot on the ground and trying to remember where my current center of gravity is 'cause I ain't been to the gym in awhile.

Oh, then I got home and the cats were pissed (and dug in deeper to the waterbed more than I ever seen 'em).. Uh huh... Furnace was out. I quickly checked my email with my gloves on... Called Furnace guy (Dammit, it's the weekend) and $191.47 later ("Your thermastat was dirty sir, I took it apart and cleaned it") we had heat.

I wonder how many hours of our lives are spent cussing inside to our inner self? Brushing our teeth? Driving? Working? Eh, however you spend your time, it's my hope much of it is spent with smile... I'm gonna try to... Love, forever and ever (that's 284,335 days... or... 6,824,040 hours) Victurd

Please, this ain't funny... the intent is your/my reflection...

So PLEASE comment...

A simple question...

What was the best age of your life.....

I can't pick... 9-ish was good... little league baseball.. whiffle ball all day with neighbor kids... kick the can (hide and seek) when the sun went down... traversing William Jewell College on the weekends... where the Chief's trained... a pretty special time of my life...

High School... 17-ish... sure, Senior year... No cares, no worries, I was drivin', I played basketball, football - friends were ALL IMPORTANT... There was a community focus on 'us' - and we weren't even aware it was "our time."

College... (Holy shit, 17-23, but who's countin')... oh you remembered.. "the best six years of my life."... Whilst I've always thought of myself as "Victor IMmature" - I knew, at this point, once this stage was over - it was on to the real deal... and I wanted to delay, prolong, avoid, the real deal as long as I could. Great, great friends... Every weekend was a party... I truly loved my fraternity brothers (rent Animal House, 'twas us).. and, for the first time in my life, I was gettin' finally laid with regularity...

Son's first few years... (33-36)the dream of being "dad" coming to fruition... By age two, we had a basketball goal hung up six foot high in the garage... him following in my footsteps as the "jack of all, master of none" in sports... we usedta go out in the garage... he'd put on his football helmet, grab the basketball.. and we played "Hut-ball" for hours on end... The miracle of linguistics between him being 18 months and 3 years was a phenonminal time... I remember holding him in my arm... outside on a hot summer night... pointing and "labeling" so he'd repeat my words... "Dog"... "Grass"... "Car"... Truck"... "Pole"... "House"... and then we cameta "Moon"... and shortly after he repeated he looked up at the streetlight and said "udder moon"... A silly, wonderful moment I will never forget..


The "they called me coach" era... 38 thru 45 or so... Basketball, baseball, soccer, you name it, we did it... NO, I wasn't the greatest help in the kitchen - but every GD (gosh darn) night we spent a MINIMUM of two hours together doing whatever sport was in season. Never a push, his will was always there - and I followed in a heartbeat. So many names, teams, kids, trips, wins, losses, tears, good times... I dunno about "the best" specific year, but the era simply rocked...

Marriage to whatshername... I'd be remiss if I didn't include this - because it was good, very good, for a long GD time... I'm talking from age 28 to age 49... There was calm, there was sharing, there was creating, there was nurturing... a lot...

Looking back, I'm thankful as hell for all of the above.. PLEASE, ADD COMMENTS.. and I don't care if the words OUTNUMBER what is written here.. This has been therapeutic to me... and GD-it.. if you do so, it could be for you too.. You know ALL ABOUT ME... time for me to learn - and for you to REFLECT... so please do so...

It's my hope, whatever age you are now is included in your list.. and if it ain't.. just think - "the best" could still be ahead.

I love you, Victurd.

Happy birthday to you........

Happy birthday to you...
Happy BIRTHDAY dear Connie...
Happy Birthday to youuuuuuuuuuuuuuu....
(and many more!)

Funny - first time I've ever done that and not felt self-consious!

Write on.......

Oh shit. Now there are 4 more eyeballs here (until they're lulled to sleep anyways)and I feel like a wet-behind-the-ears journalist facing a deadline. To that I say, patooey! PrEsSuRe? I can handle pressure!

Me no comprende why you are here. I mean, I'm very, very average. Made B's and C's in High School (oh, but on a dare from father --> a $50 dare, I ran for Stucco President, I don't think anyone else ran, I won - and the last fitteen minutes of every class the National Honor Society Students were allowed to leave class/wander halls - and the dumbass teachers thought "well, since he's Stucco President, surely he's in the Honor Society" so - I got up and left every day every class fitteen minutes early.)

I had a 2.65 GPA in college, but it was the best six friggin years of my life (and you think I'm joking! It's all true.) Can you imagine the fun? Six, count 'em, SIX, incoming groups of freshmen women... WHY did I get out so soon?

Random thoughts:

I hate Kendra and Misty (cruddy co-workers)because they always talk about getting laid. Difference 'tween me and them, I too talk about it, but that's all. Bastards, I hate 'em. Kendra will say something like "well.... I was gonna go to the gym, but I decided to stay home and exercise" and roll her friggin eyes and flash that s-eatin' grin at me.. The only retaliation I've come up with is shooting rubber bands at her - and blowing smoke rings at her during lunch (she recently kinda/sorta/whenever she's not at "Church" quit smoking.)

Driving home, until now, has always been mundane. Now, as cataracts advance there's an added exhileration as I feel kinda like I'm riding the bumper cars in Branson and I gotta sit all forward and erect to make sure no idiots bash me. You'd be amazed at how close the sum'bitches come sometime...

Ya gotta love little kid's sports.. Did my three 1st and 2nd grade basketball games Saturday - and ceptin' for my smartass partner saying "man, why are you sweating so much?" it was a wonderful time. I was way too GD attentive to the game/my job and didn't have any chance to stare closely at grandmas... Fuck 'em I say, hey - they don't keep score anyways, next week I'm turning my back to the game and checking out the bleachers...... My favorite part of it all is the expression on the kids faces... Fun, fear, fortitude, fervor... In the 3rd game, this little guy was dribbling down the court... crossed the center line... approached the toppa the circle... he almost tripped and lost tracka the ball... it landed right in the hands of the kid that was guarding him... the kid was startled.. I guess felt sorry for the chap - and HANDED HIM THE BALL BACK! NICE... IF ONLY the world were so NICE. Passion - I have a passion for kid sports... I've never had one moment during where I worried about: mortgage, work, car, getting laid, empty fridge, empty wallet... etc. It's a blast.

Some other crap that puts me in a devine mood with a devil-may-care disposition: Motown (especially the Temps), BBQ ribs, close your ears -> following a nice, nice butt.. Golden T bowling with my old HS cronies and Miller Lite... Watching people dance (I'm VERY white).. Walking in the hottest of temps and just getting drenched.. Seeing joy on other's faces.. and shooting rubber bands at or blowing smoke rings at Kendra.

Been awhile, wonder if Susan Lucci is still hot... Single?

GPS Satellite Tracking Systems? Who needs 'em.. To keep track of me, just tune in Traffic on the 9's on 980 AM.

Elvis was 42 when he keeled. I wonder how many times he got laid?

Can you stand one more cataract joke? Yesterday, returning inside from break, there was this wonderful looking Honey Bun on my chair at work. Honey Buns damn near made the devil-may-care list. I had no idea who'd done it.. Asked Kendra (we share MY cubicle).. she looked over as if she was seeing it the first time - so knew it wasn't her.. So, grabbed more coffee, tore into eating the Honey Bun - and about a thirda the way through I hear "YOU'RE EATING THAT? DON'T EAT THAT, IT'S GOT MOLD ALLOVER IT." Uh huh, was true. The white mold looked liked icing. It was like onea those "Want to get away" Southwest Airline ad moments. I can hear the bastards plotting.. "hey, let's give this to the blind guy!"... My attorney suggested I might make enough to sell "your Godforsaken car". I hate him too.

Kinda considered doing the online dating sites again.. but.. went through three of 'em last night - and they each had plenty a questions to really narrow down the search.. but I never could find one that mentioned if you lived on a hill or not - so I doubt I'll do it. If you've forgotten, my car is RNDL, as in no P.

OK, deadline - as in old, 10:15pm. Thanks to all who leave comments.. it's a wonderful prerequisite to "Buddy can you spare a dime." Love, Victurd. (Oh, btw, I've got popup blocker on this new GD (gosh darn)AT&T Yahoo thingamabob, so, it wouldn't allow me to do spellcheck. So, grits to you if you find errors.)

It's now or never.......

that I admit I madea mistake. Elvis is 72 today - and thanks to Catom (Don't be cruel) for pointing out my error. I subtracted 1935 from 2006 - duh me. Happy New Year...

Love Me Tender..... Victurd has left the building.

I'm all shook up.. .huh huh huh, huh huh, yeah yeah....

Howinthehell could I forget? Of course today is special... It's Senor Elvis's 71st birthday!.. Beenta Graceland.. it's kinda cool.. Onea my fav stories of alltime is when my mother inlaw (ex, but I still love her) was in her late 70's.. went to Elvis's restaurant in Memphis... stuck the bigger than legal sized Elvis Menu down her slacks/top... walked out the door... and was tapped on the shoulder by an employee "ahm, ma'am.. you'll have to give us the menu back."

Didya know, Elvis had a twin - Jesse Garon - stillborn. It's estimated Elvis has sold over one billion record units worldwide.. more than anyone in record industry history.

Sorry I forgot, and thanks Elvis, thankya very much - for making a boring as hell day bearable!

Nuthin' too whoopie....

Average. Basic. Humdrum. Mundane. Monday. Same ole' same ole'. Blase'. Here we are, first regular ole regular beginning day of the week in some time. Hurry Valentine's Day. Hurry robins. Hurry April showers. Spice – we need some spicin' up of things. The whirlwind from Thanksgiving to New Years is over – and my mindset is same ole' same ole'. The hells wrong with me?

I guess I just like 'special'. Reckon not every day can be special. Reckon some commutes harbor on falling asleep. I truly ain't bemoaning my life – for I do do do love life. However, it's your basic days like this that having a partner make the average day special. If you are with partner, please be thankful and don't allow it too to become average, mundane, same ole' same ole'.

With love, until the day I pee my pants and forget my name, Victurd.

Whar? Me worty?

Tjere's absolurley no rezson to worty abput my eywsight... I'm smokon to the legt, smokin' to the rihht, I smokwd the agrixulture thar I lovw best - I be smokhn, ohhh smokihn...

Don't frwt, I woll contonuie to wtite forevet and evet... So, pur ur worroes behins you... all is AOJ........

Love,
Vicrurd

"VICTOR?? HOW OLD ARE YOU?"

But there I was, I was taken to a place, The hall of the mountain kings
I stood high by the mountain tops
Naked to the world... In front of - Every kind of girl
There was long one's, tall ones, short ones, brown ones,
Black ones, round ones, big ones, crazy ones
Out of the middle, came a lady, She whispered in my ear - Something crazy
She said..

But there I was… In the doctor's office… Ya see, I ain't been. Ain't been see'in that is. There's a hitch in my getalong..
Left eye vision very blurry. Glaucoma? Cataracts? And I felt sorry for Ralphie. Started thinkin' about what kinda job I could do if I really do go blind... How in the hell would I make it to the local watering hole? Worse yet, how would I tell the difference between a $5 chip and a $25 chip – and would the bastards snicker under their breath as they handed me 3 $1 chips after I'd won $75?

"Please read the bottom line." Did this man just get here? There were seven lines, with the bottom one being the finest print. Be for real. "I can barely read the top line sir." WHAT? WHEN'S THE LAST TIME YOU HAD AN EYE EXAM? Gulp, "ahm, I've never had one sir." HOW DO YOU KEEP GETTING YOUR DRIVER'S LICENSE? Gee sir, I'm really getting my money's worth outta this $10 co-pay ain't I?.. "Ahm, my eye started getting blurry about 45 days ago... I haven't had my driver's license test in a couple of years."

I'm certain yous guys have all behaved and been to the eye doctor. I ain't. He tried 93 different lenses – on each eye. I was asked to say when the two dots were "like buttons, on toppa one another." When I could see one dot, and then two. "Which line can you read now?" "Now?" "Is this one better or worse?"... He was always nice, but he got nicer after he'd deemed I was the type that would have to have the leg almost to the point of falling off before I went to the doctor.

"Place you chin here, and your forehead here...hit the blinker when you see a dot." Damn, that test took 5 minutes… per eye.

By the time he'd spun 472 lenses around – I could read line five, two from the bottom. I knew I was destined to never see a fine breast again. My favorite, her getting outta bed after 'you know' and staring at her butt --- it'll never happen again. I'm bound for celebacy, and to the Golden Acres Retreat. All this cheery crap about "taking a picture with your eyeballs" – holy shit, makes one realize how precious life is..

After we were all done, he handed me this pamphlet with the results of my exam (as if I could read 'em)…. Then.... drum roll…..

"VICTOR, HOW OLD ARE YOU?"

"I’m 54 sir." "Well (as he picked up this softball sized eyeball lookin' thingy that was cut open like a coconut) you have cataracts in both eyes. Normally, this occurs in much older humans – oh, ages 60 on up – but, it does happen occasionally in 40 and 50 year olds.. The one in your left eye is advanced, so it's pertinent we get you to the specialist soon."

White cane. Bruised shins. Top coat, hat, sunglasses and "Buddy can you spare a dime?" Never seein' another booby. Tripping over curbs. Snotnoses laughing at me – I'm destined for hell. HOW WILL I MAKE A LIVING? WHAT KINDA GISMO COULD I ASSEMBLE IF I CAN'T SEE?

In the end, he eased my fears… "The most common surgery in the US… 90+% come out seeing better… it's outpatient... you shouldn't miss much work at all." And, I read some on the internet about – and aside from the rare problems after "infection, bleeding, inflammation (pain, redness, swelling), loss of vision (holy shit), double vision, and high or low eye pressure" – I be cool about it.

So...specialist 1/19. Probable surgery thereafter. Damn the luck, they won't do both eyes so I'll haveta do it twice. Making lemonade outta lemons.. I ain't got glaucoma, there are people way way worse off than I.. Sounds as if (should the occasion ever arise) I might be able to see a booby or a butt some day… and life.. it be good.

Oh, and best of all…. Guess what I start tomorrow? YES.. First game of the year as a basketball referee. Hehe. "You’re blind as a bastard you ole coot!" If you only knew sir, if you only knew.

I sucked in Art class...

Hey... you... yeah - you... Is your life painted just as you wish? Oh sure, we all could use a little morea this, little lessa that... but... do I see happy people?

I am happy.. I am.. It's just that I can't paint - and I ain't sure how to paint my life... You know, you wake up in the morning, there's this blank page staring at you - and you gotta paint. I dunno what to draw in my life. I probably colored outside the lines as a twerp... for sure got glitter and glue allover the place in grade school.. and I think the most positive feedback I ever received from an Art teacher was "interesting"... (I'm reminded of when my sister and I [God rest her soul, I loved her] were growing up... relatives/friends who hadn't seen us in awhile would stop and say "My goodness Vanda is getting soooo pretty, and... isn't Victor growing." Hehe, sadly, true)

Come what may I reckon. Catom - is yours painted perfect? (Or close?)... What's halfway between Virginia and Johnson County, KS?... Ms Rae - how's ur lifea goin? If you could snap your fingers to make any changes you want (ceptin' mo money, we all want mo money) what changes would you make?... Lilly Langfordtree?... G-racie? Life After 50 - any entries you can think of you'd fix/change/add/subtract? Did I miss anyone?

Life is a blank piecea paper - and we must adorn it. But how? With who? With what? I truly see most as carrying on just as they see fit. Honestly - I can think of some baby adjustments I'd make to mine... Ahm, mebbe get a car I could park on a hill and not worry - hehe..

Wouldn't it be just peachy keen if life was like a pencil and it came with an eraser? Oh crap I'd start with that Excelsior Springs football game in High School - then I'd mebbe erase some goofy things I've done in my life...

When it's allover - life.. I really think my page will be colorful... Off center - sure.. Neat? Hell no... Frayed edges? Damn straight... Perfect? Not no's but hells no's... Full? You bet... Fun? Uh huh...

We paint our own lives... It's wonderful if we're a perfect painter - and it's way cool if sometimes we have a little trouble painting... I mean, have you ever seen a house painter? Uh huh, hell yeah they get paint on their pants...

Ok, time to paint the day. Neat to think we kinda control that. Today I've chosen the "you're an idiot" paint. Ya see, where I work - there's this little corner of people - and that little corner of people... and this person can't stand that person, and that person can't stand this person... And, seems the thing to do is talk about the other person when they ain't nowhere to be seen. Today, when that happens, I'm gonna look 'em right in the eye and give 'em my "you're an idiot" smile. I cringe whenver I hear someone talking about another.. So, I will too, but it'll just be inside - oh, and I guess the smile on the outside. HEY WAIT JUST A GOL DURN MINUTE HERE. ARE YOU MIGHTIER THAN MIGHTY? YOU SPEAKY OUTTA BOTH SIDES OF THE MOUTH. WASN'T IT YOU VICTURD that flirted with that one guy's girlfriend the other night? Uh huh, was me. He was bein' an ass - and painting an ugly picture. On purpose. So, I said I gots frayed edges. I mentioned I get outta the lines.. Oh, and BTW, I'm smiling that smile!

May you paint your day as you wish - and don't get any onya... Love, Victurd.

Does anybody really know what time it is.....

Does anybody really care?

OK, I don't know if anyone really cares, but - ha ha - you're stuck here so you're gonna hear how the last weeka my life went. Christmas (close your ears) sucked. Branson was a huge downer - but, optimistically there's no where to go but up - so I gain solace from that.

I was a fat cat the entire last week. Nope, didn't go to gym. Nope, didn't do laundry (yes, screw you, the last pair is flipped for the day.) I loved the hell outta the Chiefs and all that happened Sunday. It was if Lamar was waving a magic wand from heaven. The roar at the casino (surprise surprise - I was there) was incredible when the 49'ers kicked the field goal to ensure a playoff for us.

I stayed (surprise surprise) completely sober New Year's Eve. I went to a bar.. a fight broke out.. I started to dive in and break it up - then I reminded myself "you're an old man you dumbass, let the young punks break it up" and they did. I helped the barkeep by sweeping up the buffet food they knocked on the floor.

Then, always living life bassackwards, I got too inebriated New Year's Day - and loved the hell outta it. I lost and lost at the boat, got more out, told the dealer "don't let my ex-wife know I'm doing this" and then I won and won. And won. Then I went back to bar where I was sober the night before and proceeded to buy anyone that was breathing a beer. And another. And another. There was one asswipe that was completely insensitive to his girlfriend - and I hated him for it. Then, he left, so I unscrupulously flirted my ass off with his girlfriend. Bastard, he earned it!

It was too short. Too long. Too sober. Too drunk. Lost too much. Won too much. I hada great, great time. Now I had the time of my life... Now I never felt like this before. Up down, down up. Sober drunk. Laugh cry. Fun sad. Sad fun. Loud quiet. Quiet loud. Typical untypical. I loved it. I pray for 2007 your chewing gum doesn't lose it's flavor on the bedpost overnight. Victurd, I think you're still drunk. Uh huh, mebbe. HAPPY NEW YEAR! Love, Victurd.

People let me tell you bout my best friend.....

He's a warm-hearted person who'll love me to the end...

I don't think I've ever spoken about my best friend. He simply rocks.. We go way, way back – and there's not one single thing in my life he doesn't know about... Sometimes when he sees me he'll say "you look like shit, why don't you go back to bed for a couple of hours" – and then again, sometimes he'll say "hell yeah, you got it goin' on - at least for an old man you do."

There are secrets that no one, absolutely no one knows besides me and my best friend. Some days when I'm down he'll laugh and say "lighten up you little cocksucker" – and then there are days he'll tell me – "hey, you need to get down to business – NOW"...

Occasionally, I'll get a little head-swollen about an accomplishment – and he's quick to step in and remind me "you're just a common man, drive a common van – your dog ain't got no pedigree"... Then, other times I'll be beating myself up pretty good and he'll remind me "hey, you dumbass - you're human – we all make mistakes – so, get over it and quit your whining"... yeah, I need this feller in my life.

He's the hardest person I know on me... He's also the biggest softy I know at times as well. If I ever border on doing, saying anything with prejudice – the bastard thankfully steps in to remind me I'm doing so. He hates prejudice. He reminds me – "hey, we all came from somewhere – didn't your ancesters come over here from Germany? – So WTF difference is that from someone coming from Mexico.. or Africa... or the Philippines? Lighten up you prick." Yeah, he’s right... dammit...

Believe me, he's certainly not without his own problems.. He'll sometimes be outta shape - and go on a binge and get all toned up... He'll also go on little eating binges – or yes, drinking binges... He can be a great friend, neighbor, relative. He can have callous thoughts – but he tries to balance and exhibit a heart of gold. I admire him – but occasionally too I will be the first to chastise him.

I suppose like any best friend – we've had our outs. Sometimes I get sick of him and he sick of I. Sometimes I wish I'd never met him – sometimes we visit for hours on end rehashing yesterday – and planning for tomorrow.

Yes, my best friend is me. Sorry, as I know that's probably wrong – but I think if we all look internally – we see someone we can confide in – someone who gives us balance – someone who'll kick our ass when our ass needs kicking. Someone who loves our friends and relatives as we do... I do like me. Yes, I have my moments where I don't – and I have my moments where I get down as hell. Having that best friend during those times really, really helps me. So, it ain't Eddie's father. It ain't Sanford. It ain't Nancy. It's me. My best friend is me. Tis my hope you like yourself too, but, not too much. Tis my hope you're filled to the brim with confidence, but that you don't let it go to your head. Tis my hope there are times when you feel great about being dressed to the T – and other times where a baggy shirt and sweatpants really really feel good.

Life, it be good – whether my best friend believes it or not. He's my one boy, cuddly toy, my up, my down, my pride and joy. Love, Victurd and Victurd.