I'm so excited... I just can't hide it... I'm about to lose control - I think I like it...
2001, or thereabouts... I got this really cool, once in a lifetime (I thought) blister/pimple/boil thingy on the toppa my foot down by the left big toe. Once it grew to where it was actually hurting my foot - I decided to pop it. (That's a lie... I couldn't wait to pop it!)... I pinched and pinched with my thumb and forefinger.. when I did, this stem thingy shot up (WE HAVE LIFTOFF) and hit the ceiling - I kid you not. I'd never had anything like that on my bod, and I thought I never would again....
Til last night. Hehe. Backa my right foot. Yep. Same look, same feel.. It's a little tough to see with my fat belly, but, it's almost ready for propulsion...
Frienda mine. Told me once when she was preggo, she'd be takin' a bath, hubby would walk in to shave, pee... uh huh, she'd squirt him...
THAT'S WHAT I'M GONNA DO! I'm gonna save it until one day Kendra REALLY pisses me off at work!.. Or mebbe the next time Maynard says "you think you could get me......." Or, just save it for an unsuspecting moment and I'll 'stemball' (like paintball, only organic) the victim of my choice!
Victor, you're one weird dude.
Thankya, thankya very much. Victurd has left the building.
Saturday, March 31, 2007
There.... better now...
Wow it was great to get to sleep last night... Remember the old crochety mechanic I worked with (Deke) who usedta end his shift.. walk over to the calendar and marka humongous magic marker "X" thru the day's date on the calendar? Well.. I guess now I sympathize with him.. at least for a day... Oh mercy, if I felt that way every day... I pity his poor wife!
Dunno if you saw the paper this morning... Feller came home from card game... his wife was rolling around in hot passion with another feller in a pickup truck in the driveway.... thinking quickly, she started screaming "RAPE! RAPE!"... Hubby got gun, shot other feller to death. Oh shit. On Thursday, a grand jury handed up a manslaughter indictment - against the wife, not the husband.
I'm reminded of a Twilight Zone episode... mighta been an Alfred Hitchcock, ain't sure... anyways, 'twas a fav of mine... Guy's brother is going nuts, literally nuts... Sweating profusely, cursing, talking about this man and the bad things he'd done.. His very out of character behavior (borderline lunacy) convinces his brother he should assist in tracking "this man" down, and kill him on behalf of his brother... They drive down the road... brother's behavior stranger and stranger... more profuse sweating... finally... "THERE HE IS!!! THERE HE IS!!"... brother pulls car over.. shaking (but knew he had to do on behalf of brother) shoots the guy dead.. back in the car... down the road... brother better, but still not quite right... uh oh... next feller they come upon "THERE HE IS!!! THERE HE IS!!!"... oh shit.
Ok... brain outta gas. Can't thinka no more to write (YEAHHHH - they say).. .hehe.. Gonna go experience life for awhile and hopefully something will pop up.. and I'll pop back in. Bathe daily. Use deodoant. Brush them choppers... and if you ever make amorous love in a pickup truck with another's better half - please make sure it ain't in their own driveway. Happy day, love, Victurd.
Dunno if you saw the paper this morning... Feller came home from card game... his wife was rolling around in hot passion with another feller in a pickup truck in the driveway.... thinking quickly, she started screaming "RAPE! RAPE!"... Hubby got gun, shot other feller to death. Oh shit. On Thursday, a grand jury handed up a manslaughter indictment - against the wife, not the husband.
I'm reminded of a Twilight Zone episode... mighta been an Alfred Hitchcock, ain't sure... anyways, 'twas a fav of mine... Guy's brother is going nuts, literally nuts... Sweating profusely, cursing, talking about this man and the bad things he'd done.. His very out of character behavior (borderline lunacy) convinces his brother he should assist in tracking "this man" down, and kill him on behalf of his brother... They drive down the road... brother's behavior stranger and stranger... more profuse sweating... finally... "THERE HE IS!!! THERE HE IS!!"... brother pulls car over.. shaking (but knew he had to do on behalf of brother) shoots the guy dead.. back in the car... down the road... brother better, but still not quite right... uh oh... next feller they come upon "THERE HE IS!!! THERE HE IS!!!"... oh shit.
Ok... brain outta gas. Can't thinka no more to write (YEAHHHH - they say).. .hehe.. Gonna go experience life for awhile and hopefully something will pop up.. and I'll pop back in. Bathe daily. Use deodoant. Brush them choppers... and if you ever make amorous love in a pickup truck with another's better half - please make sure it ain't in their own driveway. Happy day, love, Victurd.
Sanjaya my lord, Sanjaya
Sanjaya, my Lord, Sanjaya!
Sanjaya, my Lord, Sanjaya!
Sanjaya, my Lord, Sanjaya!
O Lord, Sanjaya!
Someone’s laughing, Lord (Fox), Sanjaya!
Someone’s laughing, Lord (Simon) Sanjaya!
Someone’s laughing, Lord (Anyone watching over 13), Sanjaya!
O Lord, Sanjaya!
Someone’s crying, Lord (the 13 yr old girl), Sanjaya!
Someone’s crying, Lord (ABC, CBS), Sanjaya!
Someone’s crying, Lord (Chris Sligh), Sanjaya!
O Lord, Sanjaya!
Someone’s praying, Lord (Middle schoolers everywhere), Sanjaya!
Someone’s praying, Lord (Snotnoses with speed dial), Sanjaya!
Someone’s praying, Lord (Sanjaya), Sanjaya!
O Lord, Sanjaya!
Someone’s singing, Lord, except Sanjaya!
Someone’s singing, Lord, 'cept Sanjaya!
Someone’s singing, Lord, all but Sanjaya!
O Lord, Sanjaya!
Boot Sanjaya, my Lord, Boot Sanjaya!
Boot Sanjaya, my Lord, Boot Sanjaya!
Boot Sanjaya, my Lord, Boot Sanjaya!
O Lord, Boot Sanjaya!
Sanjaya, my Lord, Sanjaya!
Sanjaya, my Lord, Sanjaya!
O Lord, Sanjaya!
Someone’s laughing, Lord (Fox), Sanjaya!
Someone’s laughing, Lord (Simon) Sanjaya!
Someone’s laughing, Lord (Anyone watching over 13), Sanjaya!
O Lord, Sanjaya!
Someone’s crying, Lord (the 13 yr old girl), Sanjaya!
Someone’s crying, Lord (ABC, CBS), Sanjaya!
Someone’s crying, Lord (Chris Sligh), Sanjaya!
O Lord, Sanjaya!
Someone’s praying, Lord (Middle schoolers everywhere), Sanjaya!
Someone’s praying, Lord (Snotnoses with speed dial), Sanjaya!
Someone’s praying, Lord (Sanjaya), Sanjaya!
O Lord, Sanjaya!
Someone’s singing, Lord, except Sanjaya!
Someone’s singing, Lord, 'cept Sanjaya!
Someone’s singing, Lord, all but Sanjaya!
O Lord, Sanjaya!
Boot Sanjaya, my Lord, Boot Sanjaya!
Boot Sanjaya, my Lord, Boot Sanjaya!
Boot Sanjaya, my Lord, Boot Sanjaya!
O Lord, Boot Sanjaya!
Friday, March 30, 2007
Blase'
Being uninterested due to the matter being overexposed.(unconcerned)
I felt blasé to the fact that I had to clean my room.
Ya ever have onea them days you just don't seem to give a hoot about anything? Well, it's 8pm, and I've had this little mood all day. YUCK! I tried the Temptations, Huey Lewis, Motown Classics.. nope, no help.
I know this ain't fun to read - and, you goofballs seem to have quit commenting (don't blame ya, no one will run unless ya light a fire and I've been 'all wet' here of late!).. but.. whadda you do when you just have no desire to do anything?
TV - patooey.. Golden Tee bowling? Eh, I dunno.. even that doesn't sound fun.. Left work 30 minutes early 'cause I just wasn't in it...
Victor, are you having a pity party? Well, maybe a tiny one - sorry. Life has been good.. real good in fact. Today has been sucky.. No reason behind it, just has.
Due to this, I'm gonna Snagglepuss it (Exit, stage left)... but I really really would like to know if I'm the only one out there this happens too... and if not.... whatinthehell do you do to get your butt happy/motivated again?
Loveya all.... If you have blase' days, here's hopin' it's followed by a yummy/perky day. Maybe it's he GD gray skies.. I dunno. Even Maynard, the cats are blase'. Toodles, Blase'Turd
I felt blasé to the fact that I had to clean my room.
Ya ever have onea them days you just don't seem to give a hoot about anything? Well, it's 8pm, and I've had this little mood all day. YUCK! I tried the Temptations, Huey Lewis, Motown Classics.. nope, no help.
I know this ain't fun to read - and, you goofballs seem to have quit commenting (don't blame ya, no one will run unless ya light a fire and I've been 'all wet' here of late!).. but.. whadda you do when you just have no desire to do anything?
TV - patooey.. Golden Tee bowling? Eh, I dunno.. even that doesn't sound fun.. Left work 30 minutes early 'cause I just wasn't in it...
Victor, are you having a pity party? Well, maybe a tiny one - sorry. Life has been good.. real good in fact. Today has been sucky.. No reason behind it, just has.
Due to this, I'm gonna Snagglepuss it (Exit, stage left)... but I really really would like to know if I'm the only one out there this happens too... and if not.... whatinthehell do you do to get your butt happy/motivated again?
Loveya all.... If you have blase' days, here's hopin' it's followed by a yummy/perky day. Maybe it's he GD gray skies.. I dunno. Even Maynard, the cats are blase'. Toodles, Blase'Turd
For Misty, Brandon, and any other young shit that may happen by...
We go to school. We learn all kindsa good stuff to prepare us for the world. Square roots. Dangling participles. The Continents. The radius, the ulna. The value of X ‘if’ such-n-such happens. How to spell ‘constantinople’. Thirty days hath September, April, June and November, all the rest have 31 except the second month alone, which has 4 and 24 and Leap Year makes it
one day more!
All that and a dollar-fitty will get you a cup of coffee at Waffle House.
In one’s mid-twenties, it’s hard to picture yourself being 50, 60, 70. Hell, at 54 it’s hard to picture one’s self being 60, 70. GD time flies though. We rarely plan ahead. In 8th grade, I could givea shit about what my HS Graduation announcements looked like. When I first got married and amorously did the “oh-baby, oh-baby” – I coulda cared less about the curriculum of my first child to be’s 6th grade year school year.
Boom. You’re there. Whack. It happens. Ya age. INVESTMENT? Oh shit, I forgot. Can I be rich if I start now? NO VICTOR, YOU CAN’T. Can I “Back to the Future” back to age 9, whiffle ball in the front yard.? Sorry Charlie.
There was decent, not perfect, communication in my marriages. There wasa rule – if you really really really wanted the other’s attention, you were to grab the collars with both hands (gently) – and force the eyeballs to meet. Then, state your case, and the other HADTA listen.
Misty, Brandon, other young shits – please listen. Invest now. I’d trade my Senior year of basketball, the wonderful years I was in sales for Braniff, the “hell yeah” of starting (and making it) in my own business.. and lotsa crap if someone woulda just grabbed me by the collars back when I was more interested in where my (close ur ears) next piecea tail would come from – and told me: Invest now.
If you have a matching 401K, and if you invest $160.19 a month (hopefully matched by your employer).. and if the market history bears out in your lifetime.. you would be a millionaire at age 60. A millionaire. Didya hear that? (GD I HATE when old people tell me what to do.) Tough titties. Do it. Now. Not tomorrow, not on your next pay raise, not when your kids outta daycare, not when you’ve met someone, gotta 2nd income. Do it now. It’s the absolute best thing you could ever do for yourself.
And then. Keep your fucking hands off it. (I speak from experience, unfortunately.)
Oh the ‘life’ outside is frightful, But the fire is so delightful,And since we've no place to go,Let It grow! Let It grow! Let It grow!
A millionaire, in 35 years. And what’s even better, as you age and your salary goes up – you can even invest more. Age 30 happens. Age 40 happens. Age 60 happens. Too GD fast. Plan now, don’t say no. Just do it.
I hate you young punks who still have the opportunity to do it right. Two things. 1) Hopefully I’ll make it to heaven. 2) Hopefully in 35 years I’ll look down and see some ‘fat cats’ who did it.
Blessya all………. Love, Victurd.
one day more!
All that and a dollar-fitty will get you a cup of coffee at Waffle House.
In one’s mid-twenties, it’s hard to picture yourself being 50, 60, 70. Hell, at 54 it’s hard to picture one’s self being 60, 70. GD time flies though. We rarely plan ahead. In 8th grade, I could givea shit about what my HS Graduation announcements looked like. When I first got married and amorously did the “oh-baby, oh-baby” – I coulda cared less about the curriculum of my first child to be’s 6th grade year school year.
Boom. You’re there. Whack. It happens. Ya age. INVESTMENT? Oh shit, I forgot. Can I be rich if I start now? NO VICTOR, YOU CAN’T. Can I “Back to the Future” back to age 9, whiffle ball in the front yard.? Sorry Charlie.
There was decent, not perfect, communication in my marriages. There wasa rule – if you really really really wanted the other’s attention, you were to grab the collars with both hands (gently) – and force the eyeballs to meet. Then, state your case, and the other HADTA listen.
Misty, Brandon, other young shits – please listen. Invest now. I’d trade my Senior year of basketball, the wonderful years I was in sales for Braniff, the “hell yeah” of starting (and making it) in my own business.. and lotsa crap if someone woulda just grabbed me by the collars back when I was more interested in where my (close ur ears) next piecea tail would come from – and told me: Invest now.
If you have a matching 401K, and if you invest $160.19 a month (hopefully matched by your employer).. and if the market history bears out in your lifetime.. you would be a millionaire at age 60. A millionaire. Didya hear that? (GD I HATE when old people tell me what to do.) Tough titties. Do it. Now. Not tomorrow, not on your next pay raise, not when your kids outta daycare, not when you’ve met someone, gotta 2nd income. Do it now. It’s the absolute best thing you could ever do for yourself.
And then. Keep your fucking hands off it. (I speak from experience, unfortunately.)
Oh the ‘life’ outside is frightful, But the fire is so delightful,And since we've no place to go,Let It grow! Let It grow! Let It grow!
A millionaire, in 35 years. And what’s even better, as you age and your salary goes up – you can even invest more. Age 30 happens. Age 40 happens. Age 60 happens. Too GD fast. Plan now, don’t say no. Just do it.
I hate you young punks who still have the opportunity to do it right. Two things. 1) Hopefully I’ll make it to heaven. 2) Hopefully in 35 years I’ll look down and see some ‘fat cats’ who did it.
Blessya all………. Love, Victurd.
Wednesday, March 28, 2007
Take one... it's complimentary...
Butterflies, and compliments... are free...
Today... someone at work asked "how do you get ridda ants?"... Nuther person named the name of this stuff... you put a bit out... (away from pets)... the ants get in it... doesn't kill them immediately... they take it back to their "community', spread, and then they all die out... like wildfire... "you mean like aids?" the coworker said... "yes, like aids."
I say, spread the compliments out. Let 'em multiply, like rabbits... like ant-killin' crap... like aids... like invitro-fertilization...
Chicky came up to me the other day and said "you know what... so-and-so (another department) came up to me.. told me 'hey, I think you're doing a really nice job with such-n-such'.. it was the very first compliment I've had here in five years and it meant so much to me.."
Ain't that sad?
We all love compliments... Well Victor, what are you - the writer of the blog that maybe one, two or three people read gonna do about it? I dunno, I guess just ask that we all work to compliment more.
Last week. Chicky, who happened to be black - ain't sure that matters, moreso just to relate/identify I guess... anyways, adjoining company rents our warehouse... there ain't no pee place there... thus... they troup into our offices to pee. When she turned the corner, her smile lit up the day.. one of those people you can tell (IN A HEARTBEAT) "nice, nice person." So, after she peed, she walked back outside... uh huh.. same radiant smile.. So.. I blurted "hey.. you have a great smile." Lo and behold it got even greater. "Thanks" she said, and continued on.
The Piggly Wiggly where I go. To purchase cigs, you have to go to "Service" counter.. and u can take a few items from store there to purchase as well. This ain't a compliment. Most of 'em there - it's like they're thinking "GD, why do you come to my window... why don't u get in line like the rest... I can't wait until my fucking shift is over so I don't have to put up with people like you." I mean, it's like you feel like apologizing when you get to window for burdening them... The other night... new chicky there.. Smiling. WHY? The others don't.. .why does she? "HI, CAN I HELP YOU?"...
No no no.. that's not what they do.. usually, they're on the computer.. or stocking behind the counter.. and whenever THEY are ready, you'll get assistance.. Whatsup with this perky chick?... So, I purchased my stuff, asked for cigs.. all the while she smiled... maintained eye contact... idle chit chat.. smiled <-- the whole damn time, and finally opened even greater smile and said "Hey... thanks!"..... I said, "close your ears... you're the nicest one here!"... Ok, so it was a halfass dig at the others... but it was a compliment to her... I think she "got it."
Receiving a compliment is wonderful. Winging them is just damn near equally as wonderful. Ever heard "you made my day?"... What could be greater?!!!
Complimentary, it's a good thing. You know, like the soap, shampoo and conditioner at a ritzy hotel. Or the cheese ona toothpick at the Osceola Cheese Factory. Free. Have one. A good feel. Like "I won!"
The Principal where I usedta teach (remember? the lady who had no faults until I rode with her as she drove 87 in a 55 mph zone?).. her key phrase about complimenting kids was "catch 'em doing good." Yeah, I likes that.
Think back to the last compliment you received. Twas a feel good eh? Well, let's makea pact to give two for every one we receive. I bet in a year's time, we'll notice more and more and more.
Ok, gotta run. Damn you got nice tits. (Oops, sorry! Well... u did leave cam on!)... I compliment you.. those.. them... lefty/righty... ta-ta now... love, Victurd.
Today... someone at work asked "how do you get ridda ants?"... Nuther person named the name of this stuff... you put a bit out... (away from pets)... the ants get in it... doesn't kill them immediately... they take it back to their "community', spread, and then they all die out... like wildfire... "you mean like aids?" the coworker said... "yes, like aids."
I say, spread the compliments out. Let 'em multiply, like rabbits... like ant-killin' crap... like aids... like invitro-fertilization...
Chicky came up to me the other day and said "you know what... so-and-so (another department) came up to me.. told me 'hey, I think you're doing a really nice job with such-n-such'.. it was the very first compliment I've had here in five years and it meant so much to me.."
Ain't that sad?
We all love compliments... Well Victor, what are you - the writer of the blog that maybe one, two or three people read gonna do about it? I dunno, I guess just ask that we all work to compliment more.
Last week. Chicky, who happened to be black - ain't sure that matters, moreso just to relate/identify I guess... anyways, adjoining company rents our warehouse... there ain't no pee place there... thus... they troup into our offices to pee. When she turned the corner, her smile lit up the day.. one of those people you can tell (IN A HEARTBEAT) "nice, nice person." So, after she peed, she walked back outside... uh huh.. same radiant smile.. So.. I blurted "hey.. you have a great smile." Lo and behold it got even greater. "Thanks" she said, and continued on.
The Piggly Wiggly where I go. To purchase cigs, you have to go to "Service" counter.. and u can take a few items from store there to purchase as well. This ain't a compliment. Most of 'em there - it's like they're thinking "GD, why do you come to my window... why don't u get in line like the rest... I can't wait until my fucking shift is over so I don't have to put up with people like you." I mean, it's like you feel like apologizing when you get to window for burdening them... The other night... new chicky there.. Smiling. WHY? The others don't.. .why does she? "HI, CAN I HELP YOU?"...
No no no.. that's not what they do.. usually, they're on the computer.. or stocking behind the counter.. and whenever THEY are ready, you'll get assistance.. Whatsup with this perky chick?... So, I purchased my stuff, asked for cigs.. all the while she smiled... maintained eye contact... idle chit chat.. smiled <-- the whole damn time, and finally opened even greater smile and said "Hey... thanks!"..... I said, "close your ears... you're the nicest one here!"... Ok, so it was a halfass dig at the others... but it was a compliment to her... I think she "got it."
Receiving a compliment is wonderful. Winging them is just damn near equally as wonderful. Ever heard "you made my day?"... What could be greater?!!!
Complimentary, it's a good thing. You know, like the soap, shampoo and conditioner at a ritzy hotel. Or the cheese ona toothpick at the Osceola Cheese Factory. Free. Have one. A good feel. Like "I won!"
The Principal where I usedta teach (remember? the lady who had no faults until I rode with her as she drove 87 in a 55 mph zone?).. her key phrase about complimenting kids was "catch 'em doing good." Yeah, I likes that.
Think back to the last compliment you received. Twas a feel good eh? Well, let's makea pact to give two for every one we receive. I bet in a year's time, we'll notice more and more and more.
Ok, gotta run. Damn you got nice tits. (Oops, sorry! Well... u did leave cam on!)... I compliment you.. those.. them... lefty/righty... ta-ta now... love, Victurd.
Debriefing.....
No dammit, we ain’t talking about de-panting you. Just a quick diddy to see whatinthehell we’ve learned here of late. Victor, you arrogant bastard – what makes you think you teach us anything? I DON’T!!! I STEAL it – and pass it on! Oh.. Ok, that’ll work then…..
Don’t ever worry alone. (GD this advice works)..
If the worst happens, we’ll survive.
Interacting with youth really helps to stay young at heart.
Waking up is a good thing.
The secret to passionate kissing is variety.
Man needs woman.
You can’t always get what you want.
We’re human, we do dumb shit upon occasion. Try not to.
Regular is special.
Eyesight is blessed.
It’s Ok to love one’s self.
Life is yummy/yucky, up/down… a rollercoaster. We choose how we react to same.
Driving in snow, ice, sucks. (Save your sick leave)
Write down goals and resolutions. Put ‘em somewhere handy and re-read them regularly. What’s more – DO ‘EM!
Whispering and gossip really suck.
There’s a little perversion in us all.
We poop 6 months, 10 days of our life away.
Children teach adults.
Each day is blank canvas to paint how we like.
Tears, both kinds, are actually a good thing.
Men have different shake techniques at urinals.
Touch is a good thing.
Any comments here go a long, long way in uplifting wrinkled up 54 yr old - old fart.
Just quickly browsing thru old blogs.. I tried finding this saying I liked (and stole like all the resta the crap) and it had something to do with how fleeting life is. I clicked ‘edit’ and then ‘find’ and entered ‘life’. Amazed at how many times that word was in blog. Life is good, it really is. Life is what we make of it, it really is. Life is about living. Life is sharing, hugging, loving, taking pictures with eyes. I hope your life if wonderful. I truly do. Love, Victurd.
Don’t ever worry alone. (GD this advice works)..
If the worst happens, we’ll survive.
Interacting with youth really helps to stay young at heart.
Waking up is a good thing.
The secret to passionate kissing is variety.
Man needs woman.
You can’t always get what you want.
We’re human, we do dumb shit upon occasion. Try not to.
Regular is special.
Eyesight is blessed.
It’s Ok to love one’s self.
Life is yummy/yucky, up/down… a rollercoaster. We choose how we react to same.
Driving in snow, ice, sucks. (Save your sick leave)
Write down goals and resolutions. Put ‘em somewhere handy and re-read them regularly. What’s more – DO ‘EM!
Whispering and gossip really suck.
There’s a little perversion in us all.
We poop 6 months, 10 days of our life away.
Children teach adults.
Each day is blank canvas to paint how we like.
Tears, both kinds, are actually a good thing.
Men have different shake techniques at urinals.
Touch is a good thing.
Any comments here go a long, long way in uplifting wrinkled up 54 yr old - old fart.
Just quickly browsing thru old blogs.. I tried finding this saying I liked (and stole like all the resta the crap) and it had something to do with how fleeting life is. I clicked ‘edit’ and then ‘find’ and entered ‘life’. Amazed at how many times that word was in blog. Life is good, it really is. Life is what we make of it, it really is. Life is about living. Life is sharing, hugging, loving, taking pictures with eyes. I hope your life if wonderful. I truly do. Love, Victurd.
Tuesday, March 27, 2007
Quilting.....
Business section today, KC Star. “Now open”.. I dida double take. Doggie Style Bowtique. Uh huh, ain’t kiddin’. 1503 Westport Road. Wonder if they have a front door? Victor, you’re sick. Uh huh. Am. What’d they say.. “pervert”? AM NOT. ARE TOO. Ok, you win.
Didn’t see the show (Dancing with the Stars), but understand that Heather chick did a backflip last night. Understand it wasn’t half bad. Victor, you’re really really sick. Uh huh. Am. Will ya still need me, will you still feed me.. when I'm 64.
Car broke down at 133rd and State Line… which is, per capita, probably the ritziest parta ‘Kansas City’. Needed an alternator. Ever try to find an auto parts store in Blingville? They just ain’t got ‘em. “There’s someone who can do that.” I overhear that at work here a lot. “There’s someone who can do that.” Ain’t real sure I could fart thru silk… but I’d much rather find “someone who can do that” than repair my own car. Maybe when I retire at age 107 I will.
Yesterday… at work - working on something here at the computer. Lady asks me “do you have it up yet?”… “Kinda personal don’tya think?”… She ran. Redfaced. Tis Ok, she earned it!
Lunch circle talk today: “Ever since they switched my birth control pills I’ve been starving.” Which prompted some pervert to ask “for?”… He was labeled ‘dirty old man.’ Is there sucha thing as a dirty young man? A dirty woman? I seeya shaking your head no.. huh uh, don’t believe it. WHY IS IT ALWAYS THE OLD MAN THAT’S DIRTY. Now I’m overwhelmed… worried. From spending oodles of time at that lunch table, I KNOW there are some dirty old/young women.
Feller in Washington State arrested and charged with stealing over 93 lbs of women’s undies. “I have a problem” he told police. Uh huh. Pervert. DEFINITELY ARE.
Dead guy calls in sick. Lady in Jersey, supposedly having an affair with her boss… supposedly killed her husband and stuffed his remains in three suitcases.. the morning he was killed… she took his laptop and emailed his bosses saying he would be out sick. Her hubby worked on email servers… she sent to a wrong address. Cops added up 2 and 2 as 4. A shame, she’s heap pretty lady. Got her own website in her defense. “He’s once…. Twice… Three times a gentleman”…
It is gorgeous outside. But Victor, I’m reading this in November of 2008. Describe your March 27, 2007 gorgeous? No coat. Low 70’s. Sunny sky, noisy geese. No wind. Perfect. (Don’t get excited though… remember the April Fool’s Day snowstorm years ago?.. uh huh.. I went over an embankment (Down the Kuu-Kuu hill for you Libertyites).. nuther car followed my tracks, bashed the rear of my cool ole T-Bird. $198 in damage. Old man bought rubber mallet (I was 16 I think) for $4, pounded it out.. and pocketed $194!!!
Ok, getting’ the hell outta here. If there’s anything unusual you’ve heard of late – please do not comment. Please keep it a secret. Who would want fun? You shits you (said with love.) Gimme weird stories – I’d loveta hear!
Happy gorgeous day… Not only weather.. but I ain’t been overwhelmed or worried all day. Hope the same for you. Toodles – love, Victurd.
Didn’t see the show (Dancing with the Stars), but understand that Heather chick did a backflip last night. Understand it wasn’t half bad. Victor, you’re really really sick. Uh huh. Am. Will ya still need me, will you still feed me.. when I'm 64.
Car broke down at 133rd and State Line… which is, per capita, probably the ritziest parta ‘Kansas City’. Needed an alternator. Ever try to find an auto parts store in Blingville? They just ain’t got ‘em. “There’s someone who can do that.” I overhear that at work here a lot. “There’s someone who can do that.” Ain’t real sure I could fart thru silk… but I’d much rather find “someone who can do that” than repair my own car. Maybe when I retire at age 107 I will.
Yesterday… at work - working on something here at the computer. Lady asks me “do you have it up yet?”… “Kinda personal don’tya think?”… She ran. Redfaced. Tis Ok, she earned it!
Lunch circle talk today: “Ever since they switched my birth control pills I’ve been starving.” Which prompted some pervert to ask “for?”… He was labeled ‘dirty old man.’ Is there sucha thing as a dirty young man? A dirty woman? I seeya shaking your head no.. huh uh, don’t believe it. WHY IS IT ALWAYS THE OLD MAN THAT’S DIRTY. Now I’m overwhelmed… worried. From spending oodles of time at that lunch table, I KNOW there are some dirty old/young women.
Feller in Washington State arrested and charged with stealing over 93 lbs of women’s undies. “I have a problem” he told police. Uh huh. Pervert. DEFINITELY ARE.
Dead guy calls in sick. Lady in Jersey, supposedly having an affair with her boss… supposedly killed her husband and stuffed his remains in three suitcases.. the morning he was killed… she took his laptop and emailed his bosses saying he would be out sick. Her hubby worked on email servers… she sent to a wrong address. Cops added up 2 and 2 as 4. A shame, she’s heap pretty lady. Got her own website in her defense. “He’s once…. Twice… Three times a gentleman”…
It is gorgeous outside. But Victor, I’m reading this in November of 2008. Describe your March 27, 2007 gorgeous? No coat. Low 70’s. Sunny sky, noisy geese. No wind. Perfect. (Don’t get excited though… remember the April Fool’s Day snowstorm years ago?.. uh huh.. I went over an embankment (Down the Kuu-Kuu hill for you Libertyites).. nuther car followed my tracks, bashed the rear of my cool ole T-Bird. $198 in damage. Old man bought rubber mallet (I was 16 I think) for $4, pounded it out.. and pocketed $194!!!
Ok, getting’ the hell outta here. If there’s anything unusual you’ve heard of late – please do not comment. Please keep it a secret. Who would want fun? You shits you (said with love.) Gimme weird stories – I’d loveta hear!
Happy gorgeous day… Not only weather.. but I ain’t been overwhelmed or worried all day. Hope the same for you. Toodles – love, Victurd.
Monday, March 26, 2007
Please Mr. Custer.... I don't wanna grow.(old)...
Whadda you do to fight off feeling 'old'? Are you onea those (I hate) that exercises four times a week and actually shops/cooks based upon all the food groups.. nothing processed.. no preservatives?
Well, that ain't what I meant.. but if you do that... good for you. Too GD hard for me, so I tryta stay young via other methods.
You'll never hear me say "well... I really think I look (blank) years younger than I really am. I mean hell, my face has had fitty-four years of sun (Kendra, I HATE you for noting that the other day)... my body has worked at some physical occupations where I'm relatively certain that crap wore me down insteada built me up.
My (truly subconsious) effort to stay young... ok... feel young.. Sound better? :
Continue to hang around youth. Ya ever sit down at a Bingo Hall? Mostly sucks. They're kind of "full court basketball." Oh, I usedta go with my ex mother in law - and we had a blast amongst the zombies... but not my idea of "hell yeah.. now THIS is life."
Go eat a meal with AARPS, and you become one. Go eat with young punks and your mind kinda tends to think young. I keep bringin' up my ex mother inlaw - but she's a prime example.. Hell, she pitched slow pitch until she was 60... she (ahm, could be one of two, so don't go arrest her, and again remember, my name is Sanford Alexander Merrill McCann... k?) smoked pot at age 70-something... She hung with young, she stayed young - in brain. I think AARPS that ONLY hang with AARPS somehow have given up on the feel of exuberance. I ain't a know-it-all (Victor, sometimes you come across as that's what we detect you think you are).. No, no, no... just my observations..
Seriously. See, I try not to do that 'cause when I do, it gets me in trouble. Serious leads to overwhelming, to worry.. Oh I know the work times, and the daily interaction times you gotta be serious - but I choose the other path. Whenever I go smoke a cig at work, I ALWAYS either flip Kendra off over the cubicle wall.. or... I use my ring finger so she'll know it's the PG version with NC-17 intent.
And ya know what? Young people (most) LIKE older people. Uh huh, it's true. God Bless everyone out there who's conversed, cared, loved, wanted to hang around with someone a bit older. But Victor, ain't this contrary to your Bingo "zombie" remark? Yeah.. GOOD POINT! But I think the setting alone bodes old. I do love old people... I still have the little kid "I can learn from this person" and "I wanna hear their story and tryta place myself in their shoes in that era."
When I FINALLY have enough money for retirement... I'm gonna (I swear I'm gonna) volunteer with youth... Let's see, if I stay on course, I can coach T-Ball when I'm around 109 (I hate the fucking "rule of 72")... be a Troup leader at 112...
Frienda mine. She's a granny. The 'inlaw' granny buys the kids whatever they want. I detected from the conversation - while very nice, she wasn't fun - and, perhaps has difficulty in seeing things from 3 foot off the ground. Friend says "I want them to thinka me as the 'cool granny'. " Somehow, I think they've already caught on. Kinda like playing with hounds... ya get down on their level, life is good.
Exuberance. Life. Smiling. Complimenting. Teasing. Saying stuff to others about howya feel about them. Not sweating the little stuff. Not getting too up, not getting too down. Being serious on those times whenya gotta be - but not letting it drone over into everyday life.
ACTING/THINKING YOUNG WITH PEOPLE YOUR OWN AGE. Dat ain't a crime.
Well... clock on the wall says 'get the hell away from the computer." So I will... right after I have a small dosea Grecian Formula... one Tagamet... some Ensure.. uh huh, Gas-X... Ben Dover - Preparation H.. A lil Lotrimin.. put on a Depend.. and head thataway.
Young rocks. Rocking chairs suck. May the youth of the world say "we will we will rock you." Night night now, love, Victurd.
Well, that ain't what I meant.. but if you do that... good for you. Too GD hard for me, so I tryta stay young via other methods.
You'll never hear me say "well... I really think I look (blank) years younger than I really am. I mean hell, my face has had fitty-four years of sun (Kendra, I HATE you for noting that the other day)... my body has worked at some physical occupations where I'm relatively certain that crap wore me down insteada built me up.
My (truly subconsious) effort to stay young... ok... feel young.. Sound better? :
Continue to hang around youth. Ya ever sit down at a Bingo Hall? Mostly sucks. They're kind of "full court basketball." Oh, I usedta go with my ex mother in law - and we had a blast amongst the zombies... but not my idea of "hell yeah.. now THIS is life."
Go eat a meal with AARPS, and you become one. Go eat with young punks and your mind kinda tends to think young. I keep bringin' up my ex mother inlaw - but she's a prime example.. Hell, she pitched slow pitch until she was 60... she (ahm, could be one of two, so don't go arrest her, and again remember, my name is Sanford Alexander Merrill McCann... k?) smoked pot at age 70-something... She hung with young, she stayed young - in brain. I think AARPS that ONLY hang with AARPS somehow have given up on the feel of exuberance. I ain't a know-it-all (Victor, sometimes you come across as that's what we detect you think you are).. No, no, no... just my observations..
Seriously. See, I try not to do that 'cause when I do, it gets me in trouble. Serious leads to overwhelming, to worry.. Oh I know the work times, and the daily interaction times you gotta be serious - but I choose the other path. Whenever I go smoke a cig at work, I ALWAYS either flip Kendra off over the cubicle wall.. or... I use my ring finger so she'll know it's the PG version with NC-17 intent.
And ya know what? Young people (most) LIKE older people. Uh huh, it's true. God Bless everyone out there who's conversed, cared, loved, wanted to hang around with someone a bit older. But Victor, ain't this contrary to your Bingo "zombie" remark? Yeah.. GOOD POINT! But I think the setting alone bodes old. I do love old people... I still have the little kid "I can learn from this person" and "I wanna hear their story and tryta place myself in their shoes in that era."
When I FINALLY have enough money for retirement... I'm gonna (I swear I'm gonna) volunteer with youth... Let's see, if I stay on course, I can coach T-Ball when I'm around 109 (I hate the fucking "rule of 72")... be a Troup leader at 112...
Frienda mine. She's a granny. The 'inlaw' granny buys the kids whatever they want. I detected from the conversation - while very nice, she wasn't fun - and, perhaps has difficulty in seeing things from 3 foot off the ground. Friend says "I want them to thinka me as the 'cool granny'. " Somehow, I think they've already caught on. Kinda like playing with hounds... ya get down on their level, life is good.
Exuberance. Life. Smiling. Complimenting. Teasing. Saying stuff to others about howya feel about them. Not sweating the little stuff. Not getting too up, not getting too down. Being serious on those times whenya gotta be - but not letting it drone over into everyday life.
ACTING/THINKING YOUNG WITH PEOPLE YOUR OWN AGE. Dat ain't a crime.
Well... clock on the wall says 'get the hell away from the computer." So I will... right after I have a small dosea Grecian Formula... one Tagamet... some Ensure.. uh huh, Gas-X... Ben Dover - Preparation H.. A lil Lotrimin.. put on a Depend.. and head thataway.
Young rocks. Rocking chairs suck. May the youth of the world say "we will we will rock you." Night night now, love, Victurd.
The terrier 'worried' the rat.......
Holy guacamole… the origin of the word worry comes from when a Terrier would take a rat in it’s mouth and literally shake (worry) it to death. I ‘spose simple deduction would tell one that ain’t a real pretty word then eh? (Victor, are you talking to me or to you?)… Well, you asshole (said with love) YES I was worried about me worrying (Oh boy).. but, it too could be for us all couldn’t it?
Worry: To strangle or constrict. Choke, strangle….
S’more: to afflict with mental distress or agitation… to feel or experience concern or anxiety..
I promiseya this blog won’t be whittled down to a GD Blogictionary where all we do is takea word and explore it… (I worry that’d runya off…. Oops.) But the last few (to me anyways) have been kinda interesting.. overwhelming… private.. and now worry…
Oh so many things out there we worry about.. does my boss like me… what can I do about this weight problem.. when will I die…
IF YOU REPEAT THIS I SWEAR I WILL COME HUNT YOU DOWN --- HUNT YOU DOWN!.... Ahm, my sister usedta call me Alfred E. Newman. Those of you that are raisins, like me, have probably peed ur pants with laughter.. if you’re too young to remember Alfred, GOOD. Alfred was a redheaded-freckle-faced turd in Mad Magazine who didn’t have a care in the world. His catch phrase was “What? Me worry?”… and of course he didn’t.. He was fictitious, but had he been real he probably woulda lived well into his nineties, in spitea his smart-assedness and behavior problems..
Worries are universal, and it’s estimated a third of all doctors appointments are due to worry, or anxiety. So whadda we do to combat? We try to chase away worries by eating too much, drinking to excess, taking drugs, prescription and otherwise, only to find we can’t eliminate worry.
So how do we get ridda worry? Hell I dunno, but I’m glad I gotta computer infronta me.. Oh wait, the GD AT&T Yahoo ain’t working.. no connection… I’m worried… BASTARDS.. It’s Sunday, there’sa brochure RIGHT INFRONTA me says “techs available 24/7” but when I call it’s “Sorry, please call back during regular business hours.”… Bait and Switch. Yippee Yahoo.
I DON’T KNOW HOW TO GET RIDDA WORRY… WOULD I BE HERE IF I DID? Oh, sorry. It was just that the shoulders are hurtin’ ya know… somewhere between the nape and the scapula… I reckon worry does it.
I found one quickie I liked. No, not a ‘woman quickie’, an answer quickie. Said “Do not worry about that which you cannot change.” Wow. I likes that. Maynard? No worry? Ah hell, the only time you can change a man is when he’s a baby anyways. No but that is sound, decent, simple advice. I likes it. I hate when people zero in like that.
If you believe that feeling bad or worrying long enough will change a past or future event, then you are residing on another planet with a different reality system.
William James
There are some positives to worry: plan for future… motivation to solve problem.. rehearse responses.. an attempt to express care, concern and love.
Combatting: learn about fear.. develop self confidence.. realize most worrisome events never occur.. intuition/preparation.. we’ve survived past similar events…
Or… someone suggested: Don’t worry alone. Contact another – even if you don’t even mention whatinthehell you’re worrieda bout.. Get facts.. makea plan (based upon facts)… take care of yourself – sleep, diet, exercise, human contact.. finally.. let worry die.
Shit, so much to remember, I worry I’ll forget some of it. Hehe. Hard to imagine life without worry – but me thinks if we decreased worry – there’d be less need for: plastic surgeons.. barkeeps to lean on.. wasted Dr office visits.. funner things to write blogs about (oops, sorry)..
So, let’s not sweat the small stuff. If your significant other is tiny, then sweat with the small stuff. If SO is larger – then sweat with the big stuff. Crap happens, it’s eventual. Inbetweengst, a lotta good goes on. When we worry – we have blinders to it. I hereby promise to never cuss, spit, fart, smoke, drink, gamble or worry again. DAMMIT I FORGOT. I’ve already done NY resolutions. Ok, remind me to add that one next year. I worry. You won’t forget will you? Love, WorryWarturd…
Worry: To strangle or constrict. Choke, strangle….
S’more: to afflict with mental distress or agitation… to feel or experience concern or anxiety..
I promiseya this blog won’t be whittled down to a GD Blogictionary where all we do is takea word and explore it… (I worry that’d runya off…. Oops.) But the last few (to me anyways) have been kinda interesting.. overwhelming… private.. and now worry…
Oh so many things out there we worry about.. does my boss like me… what can I do about this weight problem.. when will I die…
IF YOU REPEAT THIS I SWEAR I WILL COME HUNT YOU DOWN --- HUNT YOU DOWN!.... Ahm, my sister usedta call me Alfred E. Newman. Those of you that are raisins, like me, have probably peed ur pants with laughter.. if you’re too young to remember Alfred, GOOD. Alfred was a redheaded-freckle-faced turd in Mad Magazine who didn’t have a care in the world. His catch phrase was “What? Me worry?”… and of course he didn’t.. He was fictitious, but had he been real he probably woulda lived well into his nineties, in spitea his smart-assedness and behavior problems..
Worries are universal, and it’s estimated a third of all doctors appointments are due to worry, or anxiety. So whadda we do to combat? We try to chase away worries by eating too much, drinking to excess, taking drugs, prescription and otherwise, only to find we can’t eliminate worry.
So how do we get ridda worry? Hell I dunno, but I’m glad I gotta computer infronta me.. Oh wait, the GD AT&T Yahoo ain’t working.. no connection… I’m worried… BASTARDS.. It’s Sunday, there’sa brochure RIGHT INFRONTA me says “techs available 24/7” but when I call it’s “Sorry, please call back during regular business hours.”… Bait and Switch. Yippee Yahoo.
I DON’T KNOW HOW TO GET RIDDA WORRY… WOULD I BE HERE IF I DID? Oh, sorry. It was just that the shoulders are hurtin’ ya know… somewhere between the nape and the scapula… I reckon worry does it.
I found one quickie I liked. No, not a ‘woman quickie’, an answer quickie. Said “Do not worry about that which you cannot change.” Wow. I likes that. Maynard? No worry? Ah hell, the only time you can change a man is when he’s a baby anyways. No but that is sound, decent, simple advice. I likes it. I hate when people zero in like that.
If you believe that feeling bad or worrying long enough will change a past or future event, then you are residing on another planet with a different reality system.
William James
There are some positives to worry: plan for future… motivation to solve problem.. rehearse responses.. an attempt to express care, concern and love.
Combatting: learn about fear.. develop self confidence.. realize most worrisome events never occur.. intuition/preparation.. we’ve survived past similar events…
Or… someone suggested: Don’t worry alone. Contact another – even if you don’t even mention whatinthehell you’re worrieda bout.. Get facts.. makea plan (based upon facts)… take care of yourself – sleep, diet, exercise, human contact.. finally.. let worry die.
Shit, so much to remember, I worry I’ll forget some of it. Hehe. Hard to imagine life without worry – but me thinks if we decreased worry – there’d be less need for: plastic surgeons.. barkeeps to lean on.. wasted Dr office visits.. funner things to write blogs about (oops, sorry)..
So, let’s not sweat the small stuff. If your significant other is tiny, then sweat with the small stuff. If SO is larger – then sweat with the big stuff. Crap happens, it’s eventual. Inbetweengst, a lotta good goes on. When we worry – we have blinders to it. I hereby promise to never cuss, spit, fart, smoke, drink, gamble or worry again. DAMMIT I FORGOT. I’ve already done NY resolutions. Ok, remind me to add that one next year. I worry. You won’t forget will you? Love, WorryWarturd…
Saturday, March 24, 2007
No.... No, you can't
Private is an interesting word. Because something is private, everyone wants it. Men want women’s privates. Yes, we know women want men’s privates no matter what they say. They would only admit it in private, but they do.
Private Country Club. I want in I want in. Nope, can’t, private. You’re at a hotel… “Private Party”… you peek. If it was justa damn room fulla people you wouldn’t have another thought – but since it’s private, you want in. Curious. Private.
Can someone tell me why private means exclusion, kinda sorta – I really didn’t check Wikipedia, but I would think seclusion, exclusion is in there somewhere. But whenya join the military, everyone’s a GD Private. Why not flip-flop ‘general’ with ‘private’? Makes sense to me. Private should be special. Through attainment. “I made it to private.” "He went to a private school, better education." “She bent over and exposed her privates.” Oops, nothing attained there, less'n youra pervert.
"I want to see you in private." Oh shit, that ain't good. "This conversation is private" or, like we say at work "This is an A and B conversation, C your way out of it!
We cover our privates. We only let others see in private. Our purses, billfolds, drawers at work, bathroom medicine cabinets – private. Uh huh, caught you fucker didn’t I. WHY DO YOU LOOK IN THERE AT SOMEONE ELSE’S HOUSE? Exactly WHAT do you think they’ll have in there?
Privvy. That means ya know doesn’t it? Onea them define sites said: Made a participant in knowledge of something private or secret: was privy to classified information.. Don’t makea helluva lotta sense.
Men’s rooms. Private. Ladie’s rooms. Private. ‘Ceptin half the GD population is welcome.
What usedta be diaries are now blogs. Private is now public. The fact I’ve written in this stupid thing for going on three years now makes my GD life public. Hell, I could be a chick, Stevie Nicks, Arnold Schwarzenegger, Stevie Wonder, Joe Blow, Ozzie Osborne, a transvestite – whadda they call ‘em – heshe’s? Yes, some know me… one or two never met me. So, my identity is private.
Gonna go poop now. In private. Wanna know a private secret? See, you got your GD hopes up didn’tya.. Private/curious. I gotta friend who does that… she’ll start to say something… then “nope.” And the curiosity killsya because she’s kept it private.
Ok, sometimes uncovering the privacy ain’t a good thing. (Scroll to earlier blog about waking up next to --- whothehell is that and an even better question… WHY?) And see, she maybe thinking the same thing. She mighta thought I was closer to Lyle Lovette than Alex. Eh, closing time.
You asked. I was at HyVee. I hadta poop, not bad, but I did. Didn’t. Drove home.. then pooped. Then thought “holy shit (no pun intended)”:… I can’t believe I drove from HyVee to home and all that yucky crap was there in my body somewhere.”
Some things, I guess, should just remain private. Go have fun in public with private stuff. Crash the Jewell Ball. Walkon the Deer Creek tennis courts. Takea brother to the KKK meeting. Women, go try to pee in a urinal. Men, try the ladies dressing room at Macys. “Oops, my bad.”
Privately, I love you. Keep it our secret eh? Victurd
Private Country Club. I want in I want in. Nope, can’t, private. You’re at a hotel… “Private Party”… you peek. If it was justa damn room fulla people you wouldn’t have another thought – but since it’s private, you want in. Curious. Private.
Can someone tell me why private means exclusion, kinda sorta – I really didn’t check Wikipedia, but I would think seclusion, exclusion is in there somewhere. But whenya join the military, everyone’s a GD Private. Why not flip-flop ‘general’ with ‘private’? Makes sense to me. Private should be special. Through attainment. “I made it to private.” "He went to a private school, better education." “She bent over and exposed her privates.” Oops, nothing attained there, less'n youra pervert.
"I want to see you in private." Oh shit, that ain't good. "This conversation is private" or, like we say at work "This is an A and B conversation, C your way out of it!
We cover our privates. We only let others see in private. Our purses, billfolds, drawers at work, bathroom medicine cabinets – private. Uh huh, caught you fucker didn’t I. WHY DO YOU LOOK IN THERE AT SOMEONE ELSE’S HOUSE? Exactly WHAT do you think they’ll have in there?
Privvy. That means ya know doesn’t it? Onea them define sites said: Made a participant in knowledge of something private or secret: was privy to classified information.. Don’t makea helluva lotta sense.
Men’s rooms. Private. Ladie’s rooms. Private. ‘Ceptin half the GD population is welcome.
What usedta be diaries are now blogs. Private is now public. The fact I’ve written in this stupid thing for going on three years now makes my GD life public. Hell, I could be a chick, Stevie Nicks, Arnold Schwarzenegger, Stevie Wonder, Joe Blow, Ozzie Osborne, a transvestite – whadda they call ‘em – heshe’s? Yes, some know me… one or two never met me. So, my identity is private.
Gonna go poop now. In private. Wanna know a private secret? See, you got your GD hopes up didn’tya.. Private/curious. I gotta friend who does that… she’ll start to say something… then “nope.” And the curiosity killsya because she’s kept it private.
Ok, sometimes uncovering the privacy ain’t a good thing. (Scroll to earlier blog about waking up next to --- whothehell is that and an even better question… WHY?) And see, she maybe thinking the same thing. She mighta thought I was closer to Lyle Lovette than Alex. Eh, closing time.
You asked. I was at HyVee. I hadta poop, not bad, but I did. Didn’t. Drove home.. then pooped. Then thought “holy shit (no pun intended)”:… I can’t believe I drove from HyVee to home and all that yucky crap was there in my body somewhere.”
Some things, I guess, should just remain private. Go have fun in public with private stuff. Crash the Jewell Ball. Walkon the Deer Creek tennis courts. Takea brother to the KKK meeting. Women, go try to pee in a urinal. Men, try the ladies dressing room at Macys. “Oops, my bad.”
Privately, I love you. Keep it our secret eh? Victurd
Friday, March 23, 2007
I'm a (geese), I'm a (geese) - Oh the (geese) is back...
Stone cold sober as a matter of fact - I can bitch, I can bitch -`Cause I'm better than you - It's the way that I move - the things that I do…..
Sum’bitches came back. Them two geese. This time, only one of ‘em was honkin’. They’s headed back South this time. I dunno, maybe to return to “better days” – wherever that mighta been. Too GD high up in the sky to see if there was a little twanger hangin’ down on the one honkin’ – so wasn’t real sure if it was the ‘he-geese’ or the ‘she-geese’ doin’ all the bitchin’.
Considered the possibilities:
She geese honking:
He’d gone for a “quick one” with friends last night.. One turned into twelve, he stepped on the hound when he returned at 2:30am, knocked over the candelabra, and peed somewhere around the refrigerator because he thought he remembered them having two bathrooms….
Or…
She founda new/different number on his cell.. she called it.. sexy female voice on other end…
Or….
Rent is due tomorrow, and yesterday, without ‘queen’ permission, he’d purchased (either) down payment on Fatboy.. new Remington 248.. $2500 zero-turn lawnmower for their 30’x40’ yard… Six $275 tickets to upcoming NASCAR race for him and his bowling team..
He geese honking:
The plumber had been to their house whilst he-geese was at work, the bed was still not made and she was still in her nightgown when he got home..
Or…
The Mastercard bill came in the mail.. and without ‘king’ permission there were $763.27 wortha recent charges at Kohls, Gordmans, Fashion Bug, Macys, Bed-Bath-Beyond, Baskin Robbins, Godiva Chocolatier, and Rico’s Day Spa…..
Or…
She’d announced her mother was coming for three weeks next month…
Or…
Shortly after she’d gotten their 5th geese-child to sleep the night before, she announced she was “with-geese” again.
Hehe… ain’t life grand… same stories, different places. He bitchin, she bitchin. It’s bitchin. Honk if you love Geese’s…… Love, Victurd.
Sum’bitches came back. Them two geese. This time, only one of ‘em was honkin’. They’s headed back South this time. I dunno, maybe to return to “better days” – wherever that mighta been. Too GD high up in the sky to see if there was a little twanger hangin’ down on the one honkin’ – so wasn’t real sure if it was the ‘he-geese’ or the ‘she-geese’ doin’ all the bitchin’.
Considered the possibilities:
She geese honking:
He’d gone for a “quick one” with friends last night.. One turned into twelve, he stepped on the hound when he returned at 2:30am, knocked over the candelabra, and peed somewhere around the refrigerator because he thought he remembered them having two bathrooms….
Or…
She founda new/different number on his cell.. she called it.. sexy female voice on other end…
Or….
Rent is due tomorrow, and yesterday, without ‘queen’ permission, he’d purchased (either) down payment on Fatboy.. new Remington 248.. $2500 zero-turn lawnmower for their 30’x40’ yard… Six $275 tickets to upcoming NASCAR race for him and his bowling team..
He geese honking:
The plumber had been to their house whilst he-geese was at work, the bed was still not made and she was still in her nightgown when he got home..
Or…
The Mastercard bill came in the mail.. and without ‘king’ permission there were $763.27 wortha recent charges at Kohls, Gordmans, Fashion Bug, Macys, Bed-Bath-Beyond, Baskin Robbins, Godiva Chocolatier, and Rico’s Day Spa…..
Or…
She’d announced her mother was coming for three weeks next month…
Or…
Shortly after she’d gotten their 5th geese-child to sleep the night before, she announced she was “with-geese” again.
Hehe… ain’t life grand… same stories, different places. He bitchin, she bitchin. It’s bitchin. Honk if you love Geese’s…… Love, Victurd.
Thursday, March 22, 2007
They say that (waking) uppp isssss hararrrrdd to do...
A new day. (Well, for all but Bill Murray.) Your waking up? Have all wits about you?
Whats somea your more favorite waking up stories? Sadder ones? No one wants to remember them….
I remember when (Victor, you’ve already told us this one).. ahm, screw you.. I remember when that dude in fraternity house that always woke us up at 6am singing, showering, loudly.. I remember when we changed his clock so that when the alarm went off at “6:00am”.. it was really 3:00 am. Bastard, he earned it. He was justa tadddddd bit early for breakfast that morning.
I remember waking up the day after mother’s, father’s, sister’s, marriage’s death.. and thinking “please.. let this be a dream”.. and it wasn’t…
I remember waking up.. and not remembering how I got in the bed I was in.. I remember waking up, looking over at the other side and thinking “oh shit… did I really?”…
I’ve woken up with Beagles, mutts, terriers, Maine Coons, Tabbies, Yorkies…
I’ve woken up with halitosis.. bedhead… wet sheets (the waterbed leaked u shit u)..
Cold (the furnace stopped)… hot (only King Maynard’s room had a window unit)… dizzy (combined waterbed/upset tummy don’t do well together.)…
With her, her, her, her, her, her, her and her.. Mighta missed one or two along the way, but who’s counting… I think I even remembered being woken up to “hell yeah I will” a time or two.. whadda way to start a day..
Woken up to new jobs, new clothes, no clean clothes, no undies (SHIT, how’d that happen and where are they?)..
Woken up to “a new day”.. .”same ole same ole”.. “shit.. this is the day.. I’m scared.”.. “outdoors.”.. “in the car” <-- blackjack until 5:30am coupled with 5-6 beers…
As we age, and when we wake up.. we say “Hey, thanks Lord.” For ya never know.
Waking up is exciting. It’s like turning a corner on a road ya never been. Like anything, we can either choose to like the scenery, or we can bitch about it… or.. if we ain’t ready for either – we can roll back over for a few.. I remember waking up once and peeking out window and thinking to self “fuckin’ A Ray.. I’m REALLY in Hawaii.”
I’ve hit the snooze button anywhere from 1 -10 times. I’ve called work shortly after waking up and said “it just ain’t happenin’ today.”… The other day.. wasa runnin’ late.. woke up.. called in.. (continual running/fun banter with supervisor).. said “ahm, I had two flat tires and I ran outta gas, will be about ten minutes late.”
We wake up to a new day, new jobs, new cities, new beds, same ole beds, new mates, old mates, no mates, dogs, cats, cats and dogs, day’s off, Rainy days, Mondays, Winter Spring Summer and Fall, phone calls, door knocks, kids cryin’, bacon fryin’, the aroma of coffee, the steam whistle of tea.. we wake up at different ages, different times, different (or no) outfits..
In college, I seen dudes wake up with just one eyebrow (serves ‘em right for getting shnockered, acting the fool).. with gummy hair (serves ‘em right for stealing our Johnson’s Baby Shampoo.. look at it positively, u can wipe some syrup off with your fingers and put it on your pancakes.. with magic marker writing allover.. outside, naked.. all kindsa stuff.
Is there simply anything better than waking up? Yes Victor there is. Yeah, you’re right I guess.. but waking up beats the hell outta the alternative.. Victor, you said “I resolve to write one blog a week about something OTHER than yourself.”
Ok. I promise. Tomorrow, when I wake up – I will. May we all wake up tomorrow. However, please live today likeya might not. I loveya I loveya I loveya I loveya, Victurd.
Whats somea your more favorite waking up stories? Sadder ones? No one wants to remember them….
I remember when (Victor, you’ve already told us this one).. ahm, screw you.. I remember when that dude in fraternity house that always woke us up at 6am singing, showering, loudly.. I remember when we changed his clock so that when the alarm went off at “6:00am”.. it was really 3:00 am. Bastard, he earned it. He was justa tadddddd bit early for breakfast that morning.
I remember waking up the day after mother’s, father’s, sister’s, marriage’s death.. and thinking “please.. let this be a dream”.. and it wasn’t…
I remember waking up.. and not remembering how I got in the bed I was in.. I remember waking up, looking over at the other side and thinking “oh shit… did I really?”…
I’ve woken up with Beagles, mutts, terriers, Maine Coons, Tabbies, Yorkies…
I’ve woken up with halitosis.. bedhead… wet sheets (the waterbed leaked u shit u)..
Cold (the furnace stopped)… hot (only King Maynard’s room had a window unit)… dizzy (combined waterbed/upset tummy don’t do well together.)…
With her, her, her, her, her, her, her and her.. Mighta missed one or two along the way, but who’s counting… I think I even remembered being woken up to “hell yeah I will” a time or two.. whadda way to start a day..
Woken up to new jobs, new clothes, no clean clothes, no undies (SHIT, how’d that happen and where are they?)..
Woken up to “a new day”.. .”same ole same ole”.. “shit.. this is the day.. I’m scared.”.. “outdoors.”.. “in the car” <-- blackjack until 5:30am coupled with 5-6 beers…
As we age, and when we wake up.. we say “Hey, thanks Lord.” For ya never know.
Waking up is exciting. It’s like turning a corner on a road ya never been. Like anything, we can either choose to like the scenery, or we can bitch about it… or.. if we ain’t ready for either – we can roll back over for a few.. I remember waking up once and peeking out window and thinking to self “fuckin’ A Ray.. I’m REALLY in Hawaii.”
I’ve hit the snooze button anywhere from 1 -10 times. I’ve called work shortly after waking up and said “it just ain’t happenin’ today.”… The other day.. wasa runnin’ late.. woke up.. called in.. (continual running/fun banter with supervisor).. said “ahm, I had two flat tires and I ran outta gas, will be about ten minutes late.”
We wake up to a new day, new jobs, new cities, new beds, same ole beds, new mates, old mates, no mates, dogs, cats, cats and dogs, day’s off, Rainy days, Mondays, Winter Spring Summer and Fall, phone calls, door knocks, kids cryin’, bacon fryin’, the aroma of coffee, the steam whistle of tea.. we wake up at different ages, different times, different (or no) outfits..
In college, I seen dudes wake up with just one eyebrow (serves ‘em right for getting shnockered, acting the fool).. with gummy hair (serves ‘em right for stealing our Johnson’s Baby Shampoo.. look at it positively, u can wipe some syrup off with your fingers and put it on your pancakes.. with magic marker writing allover.. outside, naked.. all kindsa stuff.
Is there simply anything better than waking up? Yes Victor there is. Yeah, you’re right I guess.. but waking up beats the hell outta the alternative.. Victor, you said “I resolve to write one blog a week about something OTHER than yourself.”
Ok. I promise. Tomorrow, when I wake up – I will. May we all wake up tomorrow. However, please live today likeya might not. I loveya I loveya I loveya I loveya, Victurd.
Tuesday, March 20, 2007
Overwhelming....
The F word, to me, carries passion. If you've known me 54 years, one, you'd be lying 'cause everyone that was around me then is gone. Hehe. (Not funny that they're gone, just funny I guess I used 54 years. Yes, I could hit backspace, but that would require energy, and I just don't wanna... )
Sooooo... If you've known me, been around me the last 10,20,30 years, I bet you couldn't count on one hand the times I've used that word in public. It's perhaps not needed here, but I find it really really really cool for impact. As in, overwhelming, what a great fucking word.
Overwhelming teeters the totter of depression/emotional high. Cambridge defines it two ways: 1) Difficult to fight against - She felt an overwhelming urge/desire/need to tell someone about what had happened. And 2) very great or very large - She said how much she appreciated the overwhelming generosity of the public.
Amount due on charge cards 3 years ago (enough to buy halfa Hummer) - overwhelming. Stupid on my/our part. Sadly, lifelong earned funds (inheritence) went to nix those cards. Tore 'em up, NEVER another. If they won't rent me a car in Orlando, fuck 'em (for impact purposes only!) I'll go to thrift store and buy a bike.
Jealousy. Was the absolute wrong emotion, but I was filled with it at one time. I got the look, the eyes, that were never attached to a smile (after 18+ years of having the eye/smile combination) - and others were now getting it insteada me. Yes, I only mostly noticed that look given to men. I shoulda attacked "what's wrong" rather than thinking "who?"
Overwhelming. I even went to a shrink because it was so overwhelming and I friggin hated it. (SHRINK? You mean like when the whole group got on the bus in "One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest" and McMurphy's sane friend asked the group... "are you all... crazy?" (hehe, and they smiled and shook their heads yes, just as I do now. Hehe, yes, crazy.)
The shink and I visited about this for quite some time, but it was his close that gave me one of life's greatest lessons. "Victor, if it were true.. and the worst were to happen.. would you make it?"... Wow. Yes. Yes, I think I would.
Being Paul Harvey for a moment, for those of you that weren't here (oh shit, forgot, no new readers.. damn, if I were in sales or an NCAA basketball coach, they'da kicked my ass offa this blog long ago!).. in a nutshell.. the worst happened. I sucked for a long, long time (and thanks to those that were around me then who were spoonfed pity parties - Cherryl, Catom, a few others) - but, I'm making it.
I guess I've had a few overwhelming moments since... Some good ones, some bad ones... Father's death, overwhelming. Having the honor to capsulize my father's life at his funeral. Simply relating that every one who knew him, when they heard his name - conjered a smile. The best. Overwhelming privilege.
Maynard. Oh baby, could tellya some "difficult to fight against" stories. Then, the heart comes out. Like tonight. I'm a Tuesday tired-ass.. Come home to my abode (if you remember from a blog a bit back.. men don't givea shit if last Thursday's paper is still on bathroom counter... or that the empty Frito bag lays on the kitchen counter.. inches from the trash can.).. I almost didn't recognize the place. Maynard and 'free agent' (yes, anotheronea his friends here now.. lemme see.. we've had "T" [Theopolis], DC [Devon], Ryan.. and now James - stays ranging from 3 months to a year and a half. Anyways, Maynard and James spent all day cleaning house top to bottom. Not just picking up - I'm talking water and bleach, vacuuming, dusting -EVEN the cat litter.. Overwhelming. And no impetus from me to do. Way cool.
Falling. Another word that teeters the totter. Overwhelming. Nuff said. No, maybe not. When it's the good falling, is there anything better?
Overwhelming is one of life's bummers.. and one of life's gleamers. Can you think back to situations where you felt overwhelmed? Overwhelmed the good way? Overwhelmed the not-so-good way? Somehow, you picked yourself up didn't you? You made it. Mighta had assistance - but overwhelming can be overcome.
Bless all them teeter the totter words. Overwhelming.... Falling.... Passion.... Feel.... Mood.... Fervor.... Rollercoaster.... Ya know - I even think the "F" word fits here. Don't you lie to me! I heard you one night when you left the window up! ("If the house is a rockin') Hehe.
In your life, I hope ya ain't overwhelmed too much in the bad way. I think everyone benefits from going thru it at some time - but holy moly it's a sucky feel. "It all comes out in the wash." "It'll be alright." "Tomorrow's another day." "If the worst happens, you'll make it." "Every 'no' brings one that much closer to 'yes'.
Overwhelming can be fleeting too. Tonight.. Swung by the Piggly Wiggly to get a few items.. threw 'em in the front seat.. Take off.. I hear this "DRRDDDddddRRRRrrrrrDDDDDrrrrrRRRR" noise. SHIT! Well, it's raining outside, maybe it's just the tires on the wetness.. "DRRDDDRRRRDDDDRRRR".. Rolled window all the way up. Nope. Down. Huh uh. GD. Looked at temp gauge. Fine. SHIT. "DRRRDDRRRDDRRRDDRR".. Down highway, just sureashell someone was gonna point, mebbe yell "FIRE!!!".. "DrrrRRRDddddDRRRddddd." All kindsa thoughts going thru brain.. "Ahm, Mr. Banker, canya loan me a few thou for a newer car? You know, on my good looks?" Then I remembered, somewhere between Lyle Lovette and Alec Baldwin. SHIT. Who do I know I could borrow a car from? HOWINTHE 'F' am I gonna afford to pay to have this checkenginelightsonofabitch fixed? "DRRRDDDDDRRRRRDDDRRRRRR." Would I WANNA pay to have this sonofabitch fixed? "DRRRDDRRRRRDDRRRR"... Ok, home.. Shut motor off. "DRRRDDRRRRRDDRRRR"... Jumped out, opened hood. Imagined Old Faithful would be sprayin' me... Nothing. Looked under the car... SURELY water was pudding up.. Nope... Jumped backed in car.. "DRRRRDDDDDRRRRRDDRRRR".. Started to start it. Moved Piggly Wiggly bag. Oh shit. You see, I shave on the way to work. Underneath Piggly Wiggly bag, the portable razor. Uh huh. Twas running. "DDRRRRDDDDRRRDDRRRRR". WHEW. Thank you checkenginelight, I SWEAR I'll never cuss at you again. Temporarily overwhelmed.
Hungry now. Thinkin' about goin' out for a half slaba ribs. Hmmmm. Overwhelming. Make the belly "hurt good" <-- hey, another teeter the totter. And another song my dad sang.. T'd the T too.. "She's got freckles on her but(t?) she's pretty. Hey, I got freckles. I wonder if I got 'em on my butt? Never looked! Now I'm overhwhelmed again. Hehe. By cracky, just teasin'.
Loveya. Overwhelmed thatya come here upon occasion. Victurd.
Sooooo... If you've known me, been around me the last 10,20,30 years, I bet you couldn't count on one hand the times I've used that word in public. It's perhaps not needed here, but I find it really really really cool for impact. As in, overwhelming, what a great fucking word.
Overwhelming teeters the totter of depression/emotional high. Cambridge defines it two ways: 1) Difficult to fight against - She felt an overwhelming urge/desire/need to tell someone about what had happened. And 2) very great or very large - She said how much she appreciated the overwhelming generosity of the public.
Amount due on charge cards 3 years ago (enough to buy halfa Hummer) - overwhelming. Stupid on my/our part. Sadly, lifelong earned funds (inheritence) went to nix those cards. Tore 'em up, NEVER another. If they won't rent me a car in Orlando, fuck 'em (for impact purposes only!) I'll go to thrift store and buy a bike.
Jealousy. Was the absolute wrong emotion, but I was filled with it at one time. I got the look, the eyes, that were never attached to a smile (after 18+ years of having the eye/smile combination) - and others were now getting it insteada me. Yes, I only mostly noticed that look given to men. I shoulda attacked "what's wrong" rather than thinking "who?"
Overwhelming. I even went to a shrink because it was so overwhelming and I friggin hated it. (SHRINK? You mean like when the whole group got on the bus in "One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest" and McMurphy's sane friend asked the group... "are you all... crazy?" (hehe, and they smiled and shook their heads yes, just as I do now. Hehe, yes, crazy.)
The shink and I visited about this for quite some time, but it was his close that gave me one of life's greatest lessons. "Victor, if it were true.. and the worst were to happen.. would you make it?"... Wow. Yes. Yes, I think I would.
Being Paul Harvey for a moment, for those of you that weren't here (oh shit, forgot, no new readers.. damn, if I were in sales or an NCAA basketball coach, they'da kicked my ass offa this blog long ago!).. in a nutshell.. the worst happened. I sucked for a long, long time (and thanks to those that were around me then who were spoonfed pity parties - Cherryl, Catom, a few others) - but, I'm making it.
I guess I've had a few overwhelming moments since... Some good ones, some bad ones... Father's death, overwhelming. Having the honor to capsulize my father's life at his funeral. Simply relating that every one who knew him, when they heard his name - conjered a smile. The best. Overwhelming privilege.
Maynard. Oh baby, could tellya some "difficult to fight against" stories. Then, the heart comes out. Like tonight. I'm a Tuesday tired-ass.. Come home to my abode (if you remember from a blog a bit back.. men don't givea shit if last Thursday's paper is still on bathroom counter... or that the empty Frito bag lays on the kitchen counter.. inches from the trash can.).. I almost didn't recognize the place. Maynard and 'free agent' (yes, anotheronea his friends here now.. lemme see.. we've had "T" [Theopolis], DC [Devon], Ryan.. and now James - stays ranging from 3 months to a year and a half. Anyways, Maynard and James spent all day cleaning house top to bottom. Not just picking up - I'm talking water and bleach, vacuuming, dusting -EVEN the cat litter.. Overwhelming. And no impetus from me to do. Way cool.
Falling. Another word that teeters the totter. Overwhelming. Nuff said. No, maybe not. When it's the good falling, is there anything better?
Overwhelming is one of life's bummers.. and one of life's gleamers. Can you think back to situations where you felt overwhelmed? Overwhelmed the good way? Overwhelmed the not-so-good way? Somehow, you picked yourself up didn't you? You made it. Mighta had assistance - but overwhelming can be overcome.
Bless all them teeter the totter words. Overwhelming.... Falling.... Passion.... Feel.... Mood.... Fervor.... Rollercoaster.... Ya know - I even think the "F" word fits here. Don't you lie to me! I heard you one night when you left the window up! ("If the house is a rockin') Hehe.
In your life, I hope ya ain't overwhelmed too much in the bad way. I think everyone benefits from going thru it at some time - but holy moly it's a sucky feel. "It all comes out in the wash." "It'll be alright." "Tomorrow's another day." "If the worst happens, you'll make it." "Every 'no' brings one that much closer to 'yes'.
Overwhelming can be fleeting too. Tonight.. Swung by the Piggly Wiggly to get a few items.. threw 'em in the front seat.. Take off.. I hear this "DRRDDDddddRRRRrrrrrDDDDDrrrrrRRRR" noise. SHIT! Well, it's raining outside, maybe it's just the tires on the wetness.. "DRRDDDRRRRDDDDRRRR".. Rolled window all the way up. Nope. Down. Huh uh. GD. Looked at temp gauge. Fine. SHIT. "DRRRDDRRRDDRRRDDRR".. Down highway, just sureashell someone was gonna point, mebbe yell "FIRE!!!".. "DrrrRRRDddddDRRRddddd." All kindsa thoughts going thru brain.. "Ahm, Mr. Banker, canya loan me a few thou for a newer car? You know, on my good looks?" Then I remembered, somewhere between Lyle Lovette and Alec Baldwin. SHIT. Who do I know I could borrow a car from? HOWINTHE 'F' am I gonna afford to pay to have this checkenginelightsonofabitch fixed? "DRRRDDDDDRRRRRDDDRRRRRR." Would I WANNA pay to have this sonofabitch fixed? "DRRRDDRRRRRDDRRRR"... Ok, home.. Shut motor off. "DRRRDDRRRRRDDRRRR"... Jumped out, opened hood. Imagined Old Faithful would be sprayin' me... Nothing. Looked under the car... SURELY water was pudding up.. Nope... Jumped backed in car.. "DRRRRDDDDDRRRRRDDRRRR".. Started to start it. Moved Piggly Wiggly bag. Oh shit. You see, I shave on the way to work. Underneath Piggly Wiggly bag, the portable razor. Uh huh. Twas running. "DDRRRRDDDDRRRDDRRRRR". WHEW. Thank you checkenginelight, I SWEAR I'll never cuss at you again. Temporarily overwhelmed.
Hungry now. Thinkin' about goin' out for a half slaba ribs. Hmmmm. Overwhelming. Make the belly "hurt good" <-- hey, another teeter the totter. And another song my dad sang.. T'd the T too.. "She's got freckles on her but(t?) she's pretty. Hey, I got freckles. I wonder if I got 'em on my butt? Never looked! Now I'm overhwhelmed again. Hehe. By cracky, just teasin'.
Loveya. Overwhelmed thatya come here upon occasion. Victurd.
Monday, March 19, 2007
"For the man did not come from the woman, but the woman from the man. And the man was not made for the woman, but the woman for the man."
Hehe... Ok.. are you ready to spank my ass? I set out on an easy task... that of comparing men and women (alphabetically you see.) That was on some religious site, I Corinthians 11:9. I KNOW I need to go to church more often, but can one find me one that don't use that specific bible?
I didn't compose any of this crap.. and it was dark in here when I did it, so sorry about not listing references... If you website-owners do decide to sue me, my name is Sanford Alexander Merrill McCann. K?
There are more women. 143.7 million compared to 138.1 million.
In 2004, The average life expectancy for males was 75.2 years, compared with 80.4 years for females.
Average height (male & female): 5'9" / 5'4" ...
Average weight (male & female): 175 / 150 .......
Male average income $40,798, Female $31,223.
Men usually have greater upper body strength, build muscle easily, have thicker skin, bruise less easily and have a lower threshold of awareness of injuries to their extremities. A man’s "thick headedness", and other anatomical differences have been associated with a uniquely male attraction to high speed activities and reckless behavior that usually involve collisions with other males or automobiles. Men invented the game "chicken", not women. Men, and a number of other male species of animal seem to charge and crash into each other a great deal in their spare time.
Women on the other hand have four times as many brain cells (neurons) connecting the right and left side of their brain. This latter finding provides physical evidence that supports the observation that men rely easily and more heavily on their left brain to solve one problem one step at a time. Women have more efficient access to both sides of their brain and therefore greater use of their right brain. Women can focus on more than one problem at one time and frequently prefer to solve problems through multiple activities at a time. Nearly every parent has observed how young girls find the conversations of young boys "boring". Young boys express confusion and would rather play sports than participate actively in a conversation between 5 girls who are discussing as many as three subjects at once!
The Average Guy has sex 1.5 times a week (79 times a year), and lasts about 14 minutes. He has a 1-in-4.3 chance of cheating on his wife and enjoys a total of 12.4 sex partners throughout his life. The odds that his wife will cheat on him are 1 in 8.3, and the average woman enjoys a total of four sex partners throughout her life.
Average length of time between penetration and orgasm for a man: 7.3 minutes. According to Masters and Johnson’s finding, the average time it takes a woman to achieve orgasm is 3.9 minutes, while the average man is 2.4 minutes.
ARGUMENTS:
A woman has the last word in any argument. Anything a man says after that
is the beginning of a new argument
Women have an enhanced ability to recall memories that have strong emotional components. Men tend to recall events using strategies that rely on reconstructing the experience in terms of elements, tasks or activities that took place.
It is estimated that one-fourth of women worldwide are physically battered.
Average pee pee 5.877 inches. About 75 percent of men were between 4.5 and 5.5 inches. (Women don't have one.)
For chickies, The average breast size in the U.S. is 35.9 inches, roughly equivalent to a 34B bra, which is the average bra size in America.
STDs. Women are twice as likely as men to contract a sexually transmitted disease, and 10 times more likely to contract HIV during unprotected sex with an infected partner.
Smarts.. eh, about equal: Among women, thirty-five percent earned a high-school diploma, and 15.4 percent earned a bachelor's degree. In comparison, just over thirty-two percent of men earned a high school diploma and 16.7 percent earned a bachelor's degree. This near-equity in the percentages ends with doctorate degrees--1.5 percent of the men earned a doctorate, but less than half (.6 percent) of the women earned a doctorate.
Percentage of women who don't orgasm during intercourse : 75%
Anesthesia: Women tend to wake up from anesthesia more quickly than men; an average of seven minutes for women and 11 minutes for men.
Women like Richard Gere because he is sexy in a dangerous way. Men hate Richard Gere because he reminds them of that slick guy who works at the health club and dates only married women.
Smoking: 29% of men smoke, 28% of women. Smoking has a more negative effect on cardiovascular health in women than men. Women are also less successful at quitting smoking and have more severe withdrawal symptoms. Another study said 48% of men can't cope without, whilst 48% of women actually smoke for the pleasure derived.
Women generally have a higher percentage of body fat.
Maturity:
Women mature much faster than men. Most 17-year-old females can function as adults. Most 17-year-old males are still trading baseball cards and giving each other wedgies after gym class. This is why high school romances rarely work.
A new study shows that men and women use the web in different ways. Women tend to be more practical, using the web to get information or perform a specific task, while men are more interested in the entertainment part. (Wow, what a kind way to put it!)
Depression is twice as common in women.
Alcohol: Women produce less of the enzyme that breaks down ethanol in the stomach. Therefore, after consuming the same amount of alcohol, women have higher blood alcohol content than men - and will take their panties off at a faster rate in that state (I added that last part.)
Sex:
Women prefer 30 - 45 minutes of foreplay. Men prefer 30 - 45 seconds of foreplay. Men consider driving back to her place as part of the foreplay.
Any mother will tell you that if men had to go through the excruciating pain of childbirth the human race would have become extinct long ago. The laboratory research seems to indicate that for many kinds -- but not all kinds -- of stimuli, women have a lower tolerance for pain," says Linda LeResche, ScD, a professor of oral medicine at the University of Washington, in Seattle.
Schizophrenia affects women more favorably than men. Women have a later onset, fewer symptoms and a better response to treatment.
Bathrooms: A man has at most six items in his bathroom - a toothbrush, toothpaste, shaving cream, razor, a bar of Dial soap, and a towel from the Holiday Inn. The average number of items in a typical woman's bathroom is 437. A man would not be able to identify most of these items.
Economics: A man will pay $2 for a $1 item he needs. A woman will pay $1 for a $2 item that she doesn't need but it's on sale.
In conclusion, we need each other. Imagine a world of only women. Only men. Ewww. 'Sides, we'd be extinct if that happened. Ladies and Gentleman, happy day, Victurd
I didn't compose any of this crap.. and it was dark in here when I did it, so sorry about not listing references... If you website-owners do decide to sue me, my name is Sanford Alexander Merrill McCann. K?
There are more women. 143.7 million compared to 138.1 million.
In 2004, The average life expectancy for males was 75.2 years, compared with 80.4 years for females.
Average height (male & female): 5'9" / 5'4" ...
Average weight (male & female): 175 / 150 .......
Male average income $40,798, Female $31,223.
Men usually have greater upper body strength, build muscle easily, have thicker skin, bruise less easily and have a lower threshold of awareness of injuries to their extremities. A man’s "thick headedness", and other anatomical differences have been associated with a uniquely male attraction to high speed activities and reckless behavior that usually involve collisions with other males or automobiles. Men invented the game "chicken", not women. Men, and a number of other male species of animal seem to charge and crash into each other a great deal in their spare time.
Women on the other hand have four times as many brain cells (neurons) connecting the right and left side of their brain. This latter finding provides physical evidence that supports the observation that men rely easily and more heavily on their left brain to solve one problem one step at a time. Women have more efficient access to both sides of their brain and therefore greater use of their right brain. Women can focus on more than one problem at one time and frequently prefer to solve problems through multiple activities at a time. Nearly every parent has observed how young girls find the conversations of young boys "boring". Young boys express confusion and would rather play sports than participate actively in a conversation between 5 girls who are discussing as many as three subjects at once!
The Average Guy has sex 1.5 times a week (79 times a year), and lasts about 14 minutes. He has a 1-in-4.3 chance of cheating on his wife and enjoys a total of 12.4 sex partners throughout his life. The odds that his wife will cheat on him are 1 in 8.3, and the average woman enjoys a total of four sex partners throughout her life.
Average length of time between penetration and orgasm for a man: 7.3 minutes. According to Masters and Johnson’s finding, the average time it takes a woman to achieve orgasm is 3.9 minutes, while the average man is 2.4 minutes.
ARGUMENTS:
A woman has the last word in any argument. Anything a man says after that
is the beginning of a new argument
Women have an enhanced ability to recall memories that have strong emotional components. Men tend to recall events using strategies that rely on reconstructing the experience in terms of elements, tasks or activities that took place.
It is estimated that one-fourth of women worldwide are physically battered.
Average pee pee 5.877 inches. About 75 percent of men were between 4.5 and 5.5 inches. (Women don't have one.)
For chickies, The average breast size in the U.S. is 35.9 inches, roughly equivalent to a 34B bra, which is the average bra size in America.
STDs. Women are twice as likely as men to contract a sexually transmitted disease, and 10 times more likely to contract HIV during unprotected sex with an infected partner.
Smarts.. eh, about equal: Among women, thirty-five percent earned a high-school diploma, and 15.4 percent earned a bachelor's degree. In comparison, just over thirty-two percent of men earned a high school diploma and 16.7 percent earned a bachelor's degree. This near-equity in the percentages ends with doctorate degrees--1.5 percent of the men earned a doctorate, but less than half (.6 percent) of the women earned a doctorate.
Percentage of women who don't orgasm during intercourse : 75%
Anesthesia: Women tend to wake up from anesthesia more quickly than men; an average of seven minutes for women and 11 minutes for men.
Women like Richard Gere because he is sexy in a dangerous way. Men hate Richard Gere because he reminds them of that slick guy who works at the health club and dates only married women.
Smoking: 29% of men smoke, 28% of women. Smoking has a more negative effect on cardiovascular health in women than men. Women are also less successful at quitting smoking and have more severe withdrawal symptoms. Another study said 48% of men can't cope without, whilst 48% of women actually smoke for the pleasure derived.
Women generally have a higher percentage of body fat.
Maturity:
Women mature much faster than men. Most 17-year-old females can function as adults. Most 17-year-old males are still trading baseball cards and giving each other wedgies after gym class. This is why high school romances rarely work.
A new study shows that men and women use the web in different ways. Women tend to be more practical, using the web to get information or perform a specific task, while men are more interested in the entertainment part. (Wow, what a kind way to put it!)
Depression is twice as common in women.
Alcohol: Women produce less of the enzyme that breaks down ethanol in the stomach. Therefore, after consuming the same amount of alcohol, women have higher blood alcohol content than men - and will take their panties off at a faster rate in that state (I added that last part.)
Sex:
Women prefer 30 - 45 minutes of foreplay. Men prefer 30 - 45 seconds of foreplay. Men consider driving back to her place as part of the foreplay.
Any mother will tell you that if men had to go through the excruciating pain of childbirth the human race would have become extinct long ago. The laboratory research seems to indicate that for many kinds -- but not all kinds -- of stimuli, women have a lower tolerance for pain," says Linda LeResche, ScD, a professor of oral medicine at the University of Washington, in Seattle.
Schizophrenia affects women more favorably than men. Women have a later onset, fewer symptoms and a better response to treatment.
Bathrooms: A man has at most six items in his bathroom - a toothbrush, toothpaste, shaving cream, razor, a bar of Dial soap, and a towel from the Holiday Inn. The average number of items in a typical woman's bathroom is 437. A man would not be able to identify most of these items.
Economics: A man will pay $2 for a $1 item he needs. A woman will pay $1 for a $2 item that she doesn't need but it's on sale.
In conclusion, we need each other. Imagine a world of only women. Only men. Ewww. 'Sides, we'd be extinct if that happened. Ladies and Gentleman, happy day, Victurd
New Year's Resolutions... by Henry Gibson
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Sunday, March 18, 2007
If
you want my body AND you think I'm sexy... no, that wasn't what I meant to say...
If...
You wanna see some dudes that lived a dream like one that goes thru my head - go to KC Star (The Star Magazine I think) and look at the fellers that made a pact to one day float from KC to Fort Myers together... Boughta cheap sailboat on Smithville Lake.... practiced... saved.. .and went.. Shoved off October 17, 2006... had fun.. had engine trouble.. had navigation trouble.. stopped along the way to explore towns/bars/people.. and arrived in Fort Myers on February 4, 2007. Farm out.
What is your dream? I'd liketa sell all... getmea vehicle with at least 100,000 less miles than mine.. and just go.. anywhere I damn well pleased... could live very cheap.... like what Kathie said - "what if you went into a Mexican joint... ordered water, ate chips and dip.. .and each time the waiter came you'd say 'still decidin'..." I could do that. I'd get heartburn, but I could do it.
Ok, sorry.... bored... I've written too GD much of late. I just looked - I no longer have fingerprints. Especially on my right index finger. You see - my GD "y"s stick and won't type
so I have to pound. Reall pisses me off. DAMMIT!
Ma our da go just as ou please, reall. GD y's. Loveya, Victurd
If...
You wanna see some dudes that lived a dream like one that goes thru my head - go to KC Star (The Star Magazine I think) and look at the fellers that made a pact to one day float from KC to Fort Myers together... Boughta cheap sailboat on Smithville Lake.... practiced... saved.. .and went.. Shoved off October 17, 2006... had fun.. had engine trouble.. had navigation trouble.. stopped along the way to explore towns/bars/people.. and arrived in Fort Myers on February 4, 2007. Farm out.
What is your dream? I'd liketa sell all... getmea vehicle with at least 100,000 less miles than mine.. and just go.. anywhere I damn well pleased... could live very cheap.... like what Kathie said - "what if you went into a Mexican joint... ordered water, ate chips and dip.. .and each time the waiter came you'd say 'still decidin'..." I could do that. I'd get heartburn, but I could do it.
Ok, sorry.... bored... I've written too GD much of late. I just looked - I no longer have fingerprints. Especially on my right index finger. You see - my GD "y"s stick and won't type
so I have to pound. Reall pisses me off. DAMMIT!
Ma our da go just as ou please, reall. GD y's. Loveya, Victurd
Victor, you're a lummox...
Am I? Ok, spose maybe it's true. Sometimes I dream to be just about anywhere other than here... Staring at this GD 17" monitor. YOU EVER DO THAT? I wake up and peek outside, see the other "common man/common van" houses for which there is little greenery 'tweengst.. and I wonder whatinthehell it would be like to wakeup in Key West... Or Hana, Maui...
I go to work... I wind my way thru the cubicle maze, find mine - login.. get coffee.. ask Kendra "so... do you just fix your hair every other day?"... and stare at the paperwork needing attention.. same GD stuff, daily ('ceptin on the days Kendra does fix her hair up.)
My brain asks "whatinthehell are you doing here?" and I have no other answers other than, ahm, well - I've only been here five years, I won't get full matching 401K until I've been here seven... the mortgage is due in 9 days.. and I'd like to be able to stop at the Piggly Wiggly tonight and purchase - versus top coat/five-finger discount.
So... stuck. Here. The brain wants to go. The body, whilst aging, says "oh allright, let's go." But I spin my wheels - and another day of pressure from my butt makes the chair where I sit daily that much more comfortable - and that much more difficult to bid adeu.
I dream to be Martin Luther King for one day. I'd love to follow Abraham Lincoln to twelve cities and hear him speak. I'd love to wakeup as Donald Trump and logon to my bank balance. I'd love to wakeup as Davis Guggenheim and peek across to the other side of the bed (ah ah ahh, ur gonna have to look that one up on your own!)
I think about the trek to Florida... oh yeah, I'll go across the Smokies.. always wanted to do that... then I see my 207,438 mile '93 Ford Taurus in the driveway.
I KNOW! I'll sell the house - check into how much Uncle Sam can take if I don't re-invest soon... and I'm GONE! (Then, I remember the inground pool out back that ain't hada liner since 1999, see the $125 bedroom doors that have nifty knuckle-prints from one dude's anger... Remember that the Yorkie got inside and outside confused.. and my 1400 square feet needs new carpet throughout... I remember never being able to find that Beagle I really really liked after he fell thru the humongous hole in the withered back deck... ) Maybe next year.
So I go to work. "GET OFF MY ASS YOU SOB! I KNOW THE SPEED LIMIT IS 65... I'VE GOT IT FLOORED! I debate Applebees or 54th Street for lunch - and end up at the Wendy's dollar menu - 'cause I had $15 before I left for work - but Maynard needed $10. I finally finish ALL paperwork that was new today on my desk... and around 4:50pm, the new batch is there for tomorrow. Anyone gotta match?
I PROMISE I'll get outta this mess by the time I'm 50. Oh shit, just looked at driver's license.. I'm 54.
Sure.. there are probably better places to live... more scenic.. my luck, I'd be in Florida for a year and develop skin cancer... or, 'checkenginelight' would finally keel 25 miles outsidea Chattanooga and in a month or so I'd probably be a bonified resident of "you might be a redneck if", TN.
I guess laughs here are like laughs anywhere. I guess to love here would be like loving anywhere. I guess sex here would be like sex anywhere.. ('ceptin maybe in Denver.. u think they get worn out quicker from that thin air?)... I guess there are scenic places here... Hell, Tryst Falls is still a fav' and the falls dried up to a drip almost 12 years ago.
I assume fun can be had here just as it could in Key West. (Hell, seen today in news KC's first gay sport's bar just opened.. reckon if I really wanted Key West atmosphere.. could just throw on onea them tropical shirts and go there to watch Chickenhawks get thumped.)
Ok... so I'll make the best of it here. I do enjoy life. (Victor, are you talking to Victor?) Mebbe. Mebbe not. Well... I'd better scadoodle.. gotta run to store and get Maynard 2-liter and bottlea ketchup. Hope the car starts. I can't imagine life away from that cubicle. Love, Victurd
I go to work... I wind my way thru the cubicle maze, find mine - login.. get coffee.. ask Kendra "so... do you just fix your hair every other day?"... and stare at the paperwork needing attention.. same GD stuff, daily ('ceptin on the days Kendra does fix her hair up.)
My brain asks "whatinthehell are you doing here?" and I have no other answers other than, ahm, well - I've only been here five years, I won't get full matching 401K until I've been here seven... the mortgage is due in 9 days.. and I'd like to be able to stop at the Piggly Wiggly tonight and purchase - versus top coat/five-finger discount.
So... stuck. Here. The brain wants to go. The body, whilst aging, says "oh allright, let's go." But I spin my wheels - and another day of pressure from my butt makes the chair where I sit daily that much more comfortable - and that much more difficult to bid adeu.
I dream to be Martin Luther King for one day. I'd love to follow Abraham Lincoln to twelve cities and hear him speak. I'd love to wakeup as Donald Trump and logon to my bank balance. I'd love to wakeup as Davis Guggenheim and peek across to the other side of the bed (ah ah ahh, ur gonna have to look that one up on your own!)
I think about the trek to Florida... oh yeah, I'll go across the Smokies.. always wanted to do that... then I see my 207,438 mile '93 Ford Taurus in the driveway.
I KNOW! I'll sell the house - check into how much Uncle Sam can take if I don't re-invest soon... and I'm GONE! (Then, I remember the inground pool out back that ain't hada liner since 1999, see the $125 bedroom doors that have nifty knuckle-prints from one dude's anger... Remember that the Yorkie got inside and outside confused.. and my 1400 square feet needs new carpet throughout... I remember never being able to find that Beagle I really really liked after he fell thru the humongous hole in the withered back deck... ) Maybe next year.
So I go to work. "GET OFF MY ASS YOU SOB! I KNOW THE SPEED LIMIT IS 65... I'VE GOT IT FLOORED! I debate Applebees or 54th Street for lunch - and end up at the Wendy's dollar menu - 'cause I had $15 before I left for work - but Maynard needed $10. I finally finish ALL paperwork that was new today on my desk... and around 4:50pm, the new batch is there for tomorrow. Anyone gotta match?
I PROMISE I'll get outta this mess by the time I'm 50. Oh shit, just looked at driver's license.. I'm 54.
Sure.. there are probably better places to live... more scenic.. my luck, I'd be in Florida for a year and develop skin cancer... or, 'checkenginelight' would finally keel 25 miles outsidea Chattanooga and in a month or so I'd probably be a bonified resident of "you might be a redneck if", TN.
I guess laughs here are like laughs anywhere. I guess to love here would be like loving anywhere. I guess sex here would be like sex anywhere.. ('ceptin maybe in Denver.. u think they get worn out quicker from that thin air?)... I guess there are scenic places here... Hell, Tryst Falls is still a fav' and the falls dried up to a drip almost 12 years ago.
I assume fun can be had here just as it could in Key West. (Hell, seen today in news KC's first gay sport's bar just opened.. reckon if I really wanted Key West atmosphere.. could just throw on onea them tropical shirts and go there to watch Chickenhawks get thumped.)
Ok... so I'll make the best of it here. I do enjoy life. (Victor, are you talking to Victor?) Mebbe. Mebbe not. Well... I'd better scadoodle.. gotta run to store and get Maynard 2-liter and bottlea ketchup. Hope the car starts. I can't imagine life away from that cubicle. Love, Victurd
Saturday, March 17, 2007
St. Patrick's Day, 2007
None too exciting a night here... Did getta visit with best bud Sanford/his wife... Yes, wore green shirt... got out and about for about 2 and 1/2 hours... The Paddy Wagon - labeled "DUI Checkpoint" (or today, would that be known as "Patty" wagon) cat-y-corner at the Police Station intimidated me some... So.. a quick pit stop... fun.. but not how I woulda painted it if I had my own empty canvas. Oh well, life, it be long I hope.
Hope your day/night was awesome.. .and that ura lovin' life... I am ... love, Victurd
Hope your day/night was awesome.. .and that ura lovin' life... I am ... love, Victurd
Muahhh!
Went to Wikipedia.. I mean, don't they know ever'thang?.. Entered "kissing"... It said site moved to Kissing, Germany. K. Went there. Wasn't crap about Kissing (the art), but I did learn that Kissing, Germany is in Bavaria.. real close to the towns of Petting and Wank.. and just across the border from Fucking, Austria. Hmmm.. So, kids from Kissing go ona date... if it goes good they go to Petting, Germany.. if she don't say "nein" they crossover into Fucking, Austria eh? If she does say "nein", he takes her home and then goes to Wank, Germany. Right?
Backed up to just 'kiss'. Wiki tells me "Kissing allows prospecitve mates to smell and taste each other's pheromones for biological compatibility." I did't know that. What have been your past experiences with pheromones?
Talked about the kinds of kisses... and the "greeting kiss" is done in parts of Europe, Latin American, and The Middle East where women kiss men, and in somea those places the men kiss the men and the women the women. Hell, right there at the IHOP in Grandview two chickies got thrown out for smooching. Sure you'da hadta been there to discern the degree of the kiss... but, my first inkling was discrimination.
Kissing.com tells us "laugh it off if you bang teeth together." (I wonder if two peeps ever got braces stuck together? Would the dentist make 'em get two appointments? Would he charge double for labor?) It also says "the secret to kissing passionately is variety. Sometimes you're gentle, sometimes you're rough. Bite 'em on the lips, but don't go crazy"... Ahem, sooooooooo, there is more than one way?
Teenadvice tells (About French Kissing) Set scene/relax/breath mints/arms around/turn head/normal kiss/mid-kiss open mouth/get ridda excess saliva ("Oh, hold on Jane... HHWAACK-PPTOO... there, now bringme them sweet lips baby" <-- that was me, not Teenadvice)/breathe/wet ur lips/don't get rigor mortis - keep the arms a movin'!
The Eskimos kiss with their noses.. The butterfly kiss is eyelashes together... The caterpillar kiss is eyebrows touching... wow, can u imagine Henry Kissinger and Brook Shields?
Ever hearda James Belshaw and Sophia Severin? Me neither, but they hold the record for the longest, unbroken kiss... 31 hours, 30 minutes and 30 seconds... Underwater? Record is 2 minutes, 18 seconds. The scientific name for kissing is philematology. Could be used as a pickup line eh? "Ahm, actually, I'm studying philematology."
African tribes kiss the ground where their Chief has walked. Were you aware you burn 26 calories in a one minute kiss? "Baby, c'mere... we both could use some exercise!" (Oh, and I heard that "other thing" is like a 50 yard dash!)... Viva la exercise!
In Indiana, it's illegal for a mustached man to habitually kiss human beings. In Hartford, CT it's illegal for a husband to kiss his wife on Sunday... and in Cedar Rapdis, IA, it's a crime to kiss a stranger. Damn.
The average woman will kiss 79 guys before marriage (holy shit, that's a lotta halitosis, altoids, gum, saliva, germs, good times, not so good times.) Survey said - when asked whether they'd rather give up kissing or sex... 63 percent said sex.. 21% kissing.. and the remainder said "too hard to answer."
Wonder where the origin of kiss my ass started? (bonus points if anyone knows.)
My experience? Haha. That would literally be kissing and telling. I can tellya this - and I ain't no GD expert - but, when crap hit the fan a few years back I tried dating like crazy... I dunno, maybe to 'get back'. Well... learned it doesn't take too many kisses to know "huh uh, this ain't right"... or... "Hmmm.. let's continue here for awhile." (Call me piggo if you want, u chickies are the same way I bet!)
So... in conclusion.. I don't think there is a right way or a wrong way. My take, when couples have a good feel about the other - and the kiss may not live up to what you want it to be.. communicate... and don't give up. I mean hell... wouldn't the practice be fun? (Oh, and I once trained my 15 yr old brown mutt [that's 105 in dog years] to hold still whilst I put a 'treat' on his snout.. and then flip it and catch it. So, blows the hell outta the "old dog/new trick" theory.)
Live life under the mistletoe... On this very day, be kissed, we're all Irish today. Irish the best for you. Kisses. Love, Victurd
Backed up to just 'kiss'. Wiki tells me "Kissing allows prospecitve mates to smell and taste each other's pheromones for biological compatibility." I did't know that. What have been your past experiences with pheromones?
Talked about the kinds of kisses... and the "greeting kiss" is done in parts of Europe, Latin American, and The Middle East where women kiss men, and in somea those places the men kiss the men and the women the women. Hell, right there at the IHOP in Grandview two chickies got thrown out for smooching. Sure you'da hadta been there to discern the degree of the kiss... but, my first inkling was discrimination.
Kissing.com tells us "laugh it off if you bang teeth together." (I wonder if two peeps ever got braces stuck together? Would the dentist make 'em get two appointments? Would he charge double for labor?) It also says "the secret to kissing passionately is variety. Sometimes you're gentle, sometimes you're rough. Bite 'em on the lips, but don't go crazy"... Ahem, sooooooooo, there is more than one way?
Teenadvice tells (About French Kissing) Set scene/relax/breath mints/arms around/turn head/normal kiss/mid-kiss open mouth/get ridda excess saliva ("Oh, hold on Jane... HHWAACK-PPTOO... there, now bringme them sweet lips baby" <-- that was me, not Teenadvice)/breathe/wet ur lips/don't get rigor mortis - keep the arms a movin'!
The Eskimos kiss with their noses.. The butterfly kiss is eyelashes together... The caterpillar kiss is eyebrows touching... wow, can u imagine Henry Kissinger and Brook Shields?
Ever hearda James Belshaw and Sophia Severin? Me neither, but they hold the record for the longest, unbroken kiss... 31 hours, 30 minutes and 30 seconds... Underwater? Record is 2 minutes, 18 seconds. The scientific name for kissing is philematology. Could be used as a pickup line eh? "Ahm, actually, I'm studying philematology."
African tribes kiss the ground where their Chief has walked. Were you aware you burn 26 calories in a one minute kiss? "Baby, c'mere... we both could use some exercise!" (Oh, and I heard that "other thing" is like a 50 yard dash!)... Viva la exercise!
In Indiana, it's illegal for a mustached man to habitually kiss human beings. In Hartford, CT it's illegal for a husband to kiss his wife on Sunday... and in Cedar Rapdis, IA, it's a crime to kiss a stranger. Damn.
The average woman will kiss 79 guys before marriage (holy shit, that's a lotta halitosis, altoids, gum, saliva, germs, good times, not so good times.) Survey said - when asked whether they'd rather give up kissing or sex... 63 percent said sex.. 21% kissing.. and the remainder said "too hard to answer."
Wonder where the origin of kiss my ass started? (bonus points if anyone knows.)
My experience? Haha. That would literally be kissing and telling. I can tellya this - and I ain't no GD expert - but, when crap hit the fan a few years back I tried dating like crazy... I dunno, maybe to 'get back'. Well... learned it doesn't take too many kisses to know "huh uh, this ain't right"... or... "Hmmm.. let's continue here for awhile." (Call me piggo if you want, u chickies are the same way I bet!)
So... in conclusion.. I don't think there is a right way or a wrong way. My take, when couples have a good feel about the other - and the kiss may not live up to what you want it to be.. communicate... and don't give up. I mean hell... wouldn't the practice be fun? (Oh, and I once trained my 15 yr old brown mutt [that's 105 in dog years] to hold still whilst I put a 'treat' on his snout.. and then flip it and catch it. So, blows the hell outta the "old dog/new trick" theory.)
Live life under the mistletoe... On this very day, be kissed, we're all Irish today. Irish the best for you. Kisses. Love, Victurd
Green Day...
We men are lost. I've never quite figured out why (today still) women make - on average - 20% less than men.
Men are lost. We are. Shit, I'll admit it. Someone I hung around with for 20 years or so once said "you need someone." Yeah, think she was right.
Great ariticle this morning in KC paper rehashing a NY Times ariticle that announced "there are more single women out there now than there are married women." More and more women are simply saying "hey... I'm Ok... I'll make it... screw the common perceived theory a woman can't make it in today's day and age withouta man." And they can.
For men, tis a little different. Living alone sucks, it really does. Ask any man living alone. Ok, I started dating this gal... She's wonderful.. I have no desire here at home, to lift a finger. I could givea rats ass if last Thursday's KC Star sits on the bathroom counter - or if the empty Frito bag is still sitting on the kitchen counter literally inches from the trash can.
The cover to the sofa (sofa and loveseat destroyed by cats - guess they needed a scratching post) has been missing (Maynard) for three weeks. It looks like hell. But, I don't care. I ain't even looked for it. However, if'n'when I'm at Kathies - I feel like helping, lifting fingers. It's a good feel.
I think for most men, the 'lost' part all goes back to the mother-son relationship. Sure, father is the role model for our ways - is generally the little league coach, the receiver in a gamea catch out back - but it's the mother who molds. The mother who teaches. The mother who, by example, imbeds care and concern in us men. We men are stinkative... most women are instinctive. You can cut and paste this on my cubicle wall at work - I don't givea shit - it's true... only difference 'tween me and some other men is they know it, but would never openly admit to it.
I spoke not long ago about the impactive people of my past... Grundy (the PE teacher/V.Principal - "Mr Calm")... Rod White... Mr. Indian Dance Nail... The science teacher who wrote the "D" on my grade card.. etc. Whilst they all really did have an impact on me - none can hold a candle to my mother.
The mother-son relationship - how devine. Even today as I visit with Kathie - I'll be in a quandry needing advice - she'll be right on with an answer... I'll ask 'how'd u deduct that so quickly?"... "it's the mom in me." She's got three sons - and I know her ex is a good man - but I bet you every one of her sons would speak as I do of their mother-son relationship.
Man needs woman. The converse, so says the NY Times, may not be so true. Our society in so many ways is screwed up - whilst I don't blame women - I hope it's not a sign of future times. Maybe the day will come when peanut butter is no longer in man's ear. The great thing - is every day a new mother-son relationship happens. That alone provides hope.
Today woulda been my mother's 86th birthday. She's been gone twenty years now - but there's not a day she's not on my brain. I still hear the phone calls "How's my Victor?" I can still see her throwing an extra blanket on me. I can still hear her as she hold's her breath throughout my cough. I can still taste her Spanish Rice. I can still see her wonderful smile. Poor lady, she got 40-some years worth of green clothing for her birthday... She proudly wore them all. 'Sides, she looked great in green.
Happy Green Day... I love you all.. and I love and miss you mom... Victurd
Men are lost. We are. Shit, I'll admit it. Someone I hung around with for 20 years or so once said "you need someone." Yeah, think she was right.
Great ariticle this morning in KC paper rehashing a NY Times ariticle that announced "there are more single women out there now than there are married women." More and more women are simply saying "hey... I'm Ok... I'll make it... screw the common perceived theory a woman can't make it in today's day and age withouta man." And they can.
For men, tis a little different. Living alone sucks, it really does. Ask any man living alone. Ok, I started dating this gal... She's wonderful.. I have no desire here at home, to lift a finger. I could givea rats ass if last Thursday's KC Star sits on the bathroom counter - or if the empty Frito bag is still sitting on the kitchen counter literally inches from the trash can.
The cover to the sofa (sofa and loveseat destroyed by cats - guess they needed a scratching post) has been missing (Maynard) for three weeks. It looks like hell. But, I don't care. I ain't even looked for it. However, if'n'when I'm at Kathies - I feel like helping, lifting fingers. It's a good feel.
I think for most men, the 'lost' part all goes back to the mother-son relationship. Sure, father is the role model for our ways - is generally the little league coach, the receiver in a gamea catch out back - but it's the mother who molds. The mother who teaches. The mother who, by example, imbeds care and concern in us men. We men are stinkative... most women are instinctive. You can cut and paste this on my cubicle wall at work - I don't givea shit - it's true... only difference 'tween me and some other men is they know it, but would never openly admit to it.
I spoke not long ago about the impactive people of my past... Grundy (the PE teacher/V.Principal - "Mr Calm")... Rod White... Mr. Indian Dance Nail... The science teacher who wrote the "D" on my grade card.. etc. Whilst they all really did have an impact on me - none can hold a candle to my mother.
The mother-son relationship - how devine. Even today as I visit with Kathie - I'll be in a quandry needing advice - she'll be right on with an answer... I'll ask 'how'd u deduct that so quickly?"... "it's the mom in me." She's got three sons - and I know her ex is a good man - but I bet you every one of her sons would speak as I do of their mother-son relationship.
Man needs woman. The converse, so says the NY Times, may not be so true. Our society in so many ways is screwed up - whilst I don't blame women - I hope it's not a sign of future times. Maybe the day will come when peanut butter is no longer in man's ear. The great thing - is every day a new mother-son relationship happens. That alone provides hope.
Today woulda been my mother's 86th birthday. She's been gone twenty years now - but there's not a day she's not on my brain. I still hear the phone calls "How's my Victor?" I can still see her throwing an extra blanket on me. I can still hear her as she hold's her breath throughout my cough. I can still taste her Spanish Rice. I can still see her wonderful smile. Poor lady, she got 40-some years worth of green clothing for her birthday... She proudly wore them all. 'Sides, she looked great in green.
Happy Green Day... I love you all.. and I love and miss you mom... Victurd
Friday, March 16, 2007
Well kiss my ass regular old fashioned style...
I started to do the kiss blog again... Just wasn't into it... Did a blog on 'average'... It was probably average... twas an average day... That sum'bitch was like 20 paragraphs... Same thing... Hit "publish"... gone...
I'm trying, bear wit me... It was an average day - but that's ok... that's somewhere between Up and Down... so life is good. We need average upon occasion...
I didn't get REAL pissed... but, I also didn't laugh when the blog disappeared into BillGatesland... I was average pissed. Me and my average size body are going to bed now. Prolly sleep my average 6 hours. Have my average HyVee breakfast...
I'm justa common man, drive a common van. My bowling average is average... My pay is average.. my house is average... I'm hella average...
May your days be average or a little better... As usual, love.. Victurd
I'm trying, bear wit me... It was an average day - but that's ok... that's somewhere between Up and Down... so life is good. We need average upon occasion...
I didn't get REAL pissed... but, I also didn't laugh when the blog disappeared into BillGatesland... I was average pissed. Me and my average size body are going to bed now. Prolly sleep my average 6 hours. Have my average HyVee breakfast...
I'm justa common man, drive a common van. My bowling average is average... My pay is average.. my house is average... I'm hella average...
May your days be average or a little better... As usual, love.. Victurd
Well kiss my ass....
I just spent over two hours writing a blog about kissing. I'm the first to criticize my crap here - but this one was pretty good. Went to bottom of page. Typed in the jumbled letters that I can now see thanks to implants, clicked "publish", got error message... went back... gone... fugger was gone.
I'll try again tomorrow if I get the gumption.
Well kiss my ass. Love, Victurd.
I'll try again tomorrow if I get the gumption.
Well kiss my ass. Love, Victurd.
Thursday, March 15, 2007
Geese is the word....
Just went outsie to smokea cig. (Yes, we can still do that legally here in Grandview.)… Seen two snow geeze headed North. Both of ‘em honkin’ like hell as they flew.
1) Determined they were married, ‘cause neither was listening to the other.
2) Wondered whyinthehell geese honk when they fly. That’d be like running and talking. We don’t do that when we run. Hell, I’d be outta breath the first lap. Would someone Google that crap and lemme know?
Geese is the word – is the word that you hear – It’s got groove it’s got meaning – geese is the time, is the palace is the motion – geeze is the way we are feeling…. Honk, Honk… Victurd. Tune in tomorrow when we’ll discuss the first time I ever ate at Hooters (boss’s choice) and I got in big trouble. (Hint: the eye-roller)…
1) Determined they were married, ‘cause neither was listening to the other.
2) Wondered whyinthehell geese honk when they fly. That’d be like running and talking. We don’t do that when we run. Hell, I’d be outta breath the first lap. Would someone Google that crap and lemme know?
Geese is the word – is the word that you hear – It’s got groove it’s got meaning – geese is the time, is the palace is the motion – geeze is the way we are feeling…. Honk, Honk… Victurd. Tune in tomorrow when we’ll discuss the first time I ever ate at Hooters (boss’s choice) and I got in big trouble. (Hint: the eye-roller)…
Pete and repeat...
Victor, were you aware you repeat yourself fairly often? “Well hell, I’m old… that’s what old people do..”… “Well hell, I’m old… that’s what old people do.”
I hate hate hate that kiss-n-tell shit, but I was once with an “eye-roller.” You know, you go thru life – and only a very few stay with the same mate, the same job, the same set-a friends their whole life… I mean think about it.. look around… whodoya know that can say that?.. Anyways, we’d be in different company – and I’d reach back and start to relate a story from days gone by – and then the “eye-roll” would happen. Too bad, so sad – if you’re gonna be around Victor, it’s a possibility I might repeat some crap…
But not here…. Surely? I mean, we’ve never discussed butts (half ass, ass ‘n a half, wonderful) have we? Uh huh.
Eye can see clearly now – did I mention I’d had cataracts and that f-in Kendra had given me a honey bun that was moldy prior to my eyes getting fixed? Yes Victor, you did.
I haven’t mentioned all the physical crap that’s happened to me over the years have I? Yeah, we could do that… Let’s see.. I broke this finger when I was 9… I had this humongous testical since I was - YES VICTOR, WE’VE HEARD. AND ALL ABOUT THE GAY DOCTOR THAT SAID AFTER OPERATION THEY WERE NOW “PERFECT”.. AND THAT IT USEDTA BE THE SIZE OF A GRAPEFRUIT. WE’VE FRIGGIN’ HEARD ALL ABOUT IT.
How ‘bout “the Clamp” – did I do that one?... And did I ever relate the story about my little raccoon buddy Oscar?... Have I ever used the term rollercoaster?... Take pictures with your eyes?... Were you aware Wonderful World was my favorite song?... That I’ve sharted?... I hate the cold and I wanna move to Florida?.... Did I tell you that Maynard was now an usher at the Sunday Night Baptist Church Service? (hehe, just wanted to make sure you’re awake here.)
Ok, apologies… I do repeat myself. Not on purpose. You’re all too nice in that you could click ‘comment’ and say “Victor, you’ve told us that crap before” but you don’t. I double dog dareya next time I repeat myself to do it. Comment. Chickenshits!... Hey, that’s an idea! We could do a blog on poop.. or pee… or urinals… crap – all about crap.. Victor, did you just get here? Done before, all of ‘em.
Hearda friend say recently – “I love going back and watching old video… mainly because it’s so cool to see the older loved ones that are now gone.”… Yeah, right on. And with each person – particularly the ones that are older – we see them, we hear them telling a story… and chances are good it’s one we’ve heard before… but that’s cool.. we associate them with the story… ora song… Whenever I hear Mack the Knife I conjure up the image of my father in the kitchen, happy, cooking supper… In spitea hearing it over and over for 20 years daily – I never tired of it.
Depends. Irregular. Frequent peeing. Aches. Brown spots. Forgetfulness. Naps. Bitching about the Government. Bitching about the weather. Bitching about the children. Bitching about how mucha loafa bread is now compared to 19-whatever the year.. REPEATING. All that crap is what we ancient ones do.
Did I mention I like smooching? Now that bears repeating. Tune in tomorrow when the topic will be French kissing. If you kiss your grandma in France, would that be considered a French kiss? Victor, pretty certain you’ve told that one before. KMA – how’s that? Yeah, that’s it – we’ll talk all bout kissin… Whaddayou consider the best way to kiss?
Ok, outta here. Ok, outta here. Have a great day. Have a great day. Take pictures with your eyeballs. Take pictures with your eyeballs. Have smiles. Have smiles. Happy is a choice. Happy is a choice. I repeat, have a nice day. I repeat, have a nice day. Love, Victurd. Love, Victurd.
I hate hate hate that kiss-n-tell shit, but I was once with an “eye-roller.” You know, you go thru life – and only a very few stay with the same mate, the same job, the same set-a friends their whole life… I mean think about it.. look around… whodoya know that can say that?.. Anyways, we’d be in different company – and I’d reach back and start to relate a story from days gone by – and then the “eye-roll” would happen. Too bad, so sad – if you’re gonna be around Victor, it’s a possibility I might repeat some crap…
But not here…. Surely? I mean, we’ve never discussed butts (half ass, ass ‘n a half, wonderful) have we? Uh huh.
Eye can see clearly now – did I mention I’d had cataracts and that f-in Kendra had given me a honey bun that was moldy prior to my eyes getting fixed? Yes Victor, you did.
I haven’t mentioned all the physical crap that’s happened to me over the years have I? Yeah, we could do that… Let’s see.. I broke this finger when I was 9… I had this humongous testical since I was - YES VICTOR, WE’VE HEARD. AND ALL ABOUT THE GAY DOCTOR THAT SAID AFTER OPERATION THEY WERE NOW “PERFECT”.. AND THAT IT USEDTA BE THE SIZE OF A GRAPEFRUIT. WE’VE FRIGGIN’ HEARD ALL ABOUT IT.
How ‘bout “the Clamp” – did I do that one?... And did I ever relate the story about my little raccoon buddy Oscar?... Have I ever used the term rollercoaster?... Take pictures with your eyes?... Were you aware Wonderful World was my favorite song?... That I’ve sharted?... I hate the cold and I wanna move to Florida?.... Did I tell you that Maynard was now an usher at the Sunday Night Baptist Church Service? (hehe, just wanted to make sure you’re awake here.)
Ok, apologies… I do repeat myself. Not on purpose. You’re all too nice in that you could click ‘comment’ and say “Victor, you’ve told us that crap before” but you don’t. I double dog dareya next time I repeat myself to do it. Comment. Chickenshits!... Hey, that’s an idea! We could do a blog on poop.. or pee… or urinals… crap – all about crap.. Victor, did you just get here? Done before, all of ‘em.
Hearda friend say recently – “I love going back and watching old video… mainly because it’s so cool to see the older loved ones that are now gone.”… Yeah, right on. And with each person – particularly the ones that are older – we see them, we hear them telling a story… and chances are good it’s one we’ve heard before… but that’s cool.. we associate them with the story… ora song… Whenever I hear Mack the Knife I conjure up the image of my father in the kitchen, happy, cooking supper… In spitea hearing it over and over for 20 years daily – I never tired of it.
Depends. Irregular. Frequent peeing. Aches. Brown spots. Forgetfulness. Naps. Bitching about the Government. Bitching about the weather. Bitching about the children. Bitching about how mucha loafa bread is now compared to 19-whatever the year.. REPEATING. All that crap is what we ancient ones do.
Did I mention I like smooching? Now that bears repeating. Tune in tomorrow when the topic will be French kissing. If you kiss your grandma in France, would that be considered a French kiss? Victor, pretty certain you’ve told that one before. KMA – how’s that? Yeah, that’s it – we’ll talk all bout kissin… Whaddayou consider the best way to kiss?
Ok, outta here. Ok, outta here. Have a great day. Have a great day. Take pictures with your eyeballs. Take pictures with your eyeballs. Have smiles. Have smiles. Happy is a choice. Happy is a choice. I repeat, have a nice day. I repeat, have a nice day. Love, Victurd. Love, Victurd.
Wednesday, March 14, 2007
'Cause I get a peaceful, easy feeling.....
Victor, no one gives a shit about your night, whatsup with that?... I know, but my evening was just that, peaceful and easy...
Friends house for burgers, brats (on the grill), dill pickle potato chips (uh huh), Chili Cheese Fritos (the Bomb)...OUTSIDE... did you hear that? Outside! Doesn't take much bassackwards scrolling to read about "I hate this frigid crap, GIMME FLORIDA"...
Then... a ride across tree-lined, hilly roads... in a convertible.. yes, a CONVERTIBLE!... Mother Nature you are RIGHT on que... as an old fart, former PE teacher, you could justabout count on "hey, it'll be ok to take the kids outside once March 15th comes... March 13th, you rock..
Root beer floats all around.. Heaven, simply heaven...
Then... American Idol.. inspitea Simon and his sometime wicked ways, enjoyable...
A peaceful, easy feeling... Nice... No extravagance... Nothing outta the ordinary... oh, unless you wanna count Bashie.. (Sebastion, the hound)... Bashie like convertible rides.. he plants one (or both) paws atop the door frame.. and catches the breeze.. allofasudden there's hella yelping, like a bumble bee had just feasted on his nads... and continued yelping... hideous.. well, twas determined Bashie was rolling up the window with his back paw - his neck was now stuck between the raising window and the window/door frame... Pretty certain his paw was still attempting to raise the window (thus even higher pitched yelping) and thus, smashing him between the window and the frame... Once it was figured out what was wrong, and then determined he wasn't destined to life with a split personality (See.. and Bastion), it made for a pretty decent laugh...
Just one day in the life... but it was peaceful, easy... Thanks to those who made it that way... I'm already standing on the ground...
Tis my hope your day/night was just as peaceful/easy... Love, Victurd
Friends house for burgers, brats (on the grill), dill pickle potato chips (uh huh), Chili Cheese Fritos (the Bomb)...OUTSIDE... did you hear that? Outside! Doesn't take much bassackwards scrolling to read about "I hate this frigid crap, GIMME FLORIDA"...
Then... a ride across tree-lined, hilly roads... in a convertible.. yes, a CONVERTIBLE!... Mother Nature you are RIGHT on que... as an old fart, former PE teacher, you could justabout count on "hey, it'll be ok to take the kids outside once March 15th comes... March 13th, you rock..
Root beer floats all around.. Heaven, simply heaven...
Then... American Idol.. inspitea Simon and his sometime wicked ways, enjoyable...
A peaceful, easy feeling... Nice... No extravagance... Nothing outta the ordinary... oh, unless you wanna count Bashie.. (Sebastion, the hound)... Bashie like convertible rides.. he plants one (or both) paws atop the door frame.. and catches the breeze.. allofasudden there's hella yelping, like a bumble bee had just feasted on his nads... and continued yelping... hideous.. well, twas determined Bashie was rolling up the window with his back paw - his neck was now stuck between the raising window and the window/door frame... Pretty certain his paw was still attempting to raise the window (thus even higher pitched yelping) and thus, smashing him between the window and the frame... Once it was figured out what was wrong, and then determined he wasn't destined to life with a split personality (See.. and Bastion), it made for a pretty decent laugh...
Just one day in the life... but it was peaceful, easy... Thanks to those who made it that way... I'm already standing on the ground...
Tis my hope your day/night was just as peaceful/easy... Love, Victurd
Tuesday, March 13, 2007
Some people have all the verve...
Ok, yes, I was a PE major - so - whilst I thought it was maybe the right word I wanted to use here - close ur ears, I hadta do the Yahoo "define verve" thingy to make sure. Yahoo tells me "Energy and enthusiasm in the expression of ideas."
Yeah, verve. Expression - with energy. Kinda cool - like 'nerve' and 'verb' combined. The verve of him/her. Mark (The Bird) Fidrich had a curve ball - but, me thinks his best pitch was talking to the hitters, psyching them out, or, throwing his 'verve-ball.' That Peyton Manning dude (I know you hate him Kathie, I kinda likes the feller) the verve of him and all those antics right before a play. Ya gotta love it. Dick Vitale. Sometimes his verve gets on my nerves - but, he always has verve - never atta loss for words - and every time it's winged with enthusiam. The verve of him.
Most of us are lum-dumbs, sit back - thinka shit to say, 'ceptin we usually keep it under wraps... Them verve people - they kinda blurt out whatever they think, whenever they think it. And... generally, it's right on. Howinthehell do they think so GD fast?
It ain't no use to sit and wonder why babe.... just verve it!
Or........ howinthehell do they have the kutzpah to have thoughts come from the brain and go right to the tip of their tongue? And sooooooooooo GD fast. My thoughts - or my verve - sum'bitch leaves the brain - passes right on by the lips - and on the rare occasions when the verve in me stops - it's usually here.. in my fingertips... on the GD keyboard. (GD = gosh darn, ya know?)
Sometimes I wish I had the verve to tell some folks what I'd liketa tell 'em. Oft times I'll hear someone with verve respond with exactly what thought had barely begun to cross my brain - and I'm like "Yeah... what she/he said."
Many of our Holidays are mundane. I mean, hell, it's been over 200 years since either Washington or Lincoln were born... Labor Day? Criminy. Me thinks we oughta have a Verve Day. You could say whatever you wanted - to whomever you wanted - and there'd be no recourse.
"Baby, you gotta nice butt!"... "Do you folks practice trying to give this shittya service or does it come naturally?"... "Can you spell supervisor?"... . "I REALLY enjoy working here, but, I kinda wish they'd lost your application when you applied."... "What were you thinking when you asked her out?"... "What were you thinking when he asked you out and you said yes?"...
"Justa suggestion, but me thinks you oughta replace the 40 watt light bulbs in the room where you get dressed with 75 watt bulbs.".... "Hey you, you 6'5", 225 lb beast.. do you REALLY not feel gay when you do that 'rockkkkk chockkkkk jayyyyyyyyhawkkkk kkkkkuuuu' thing?" Hehe
Or howabout the simple "hey... wanna doink?"... eh, why not. The verve of me. The verve of you. Happy Verve Day to you... Happy Verve Day tooo you.. Happy VERVE Day dear (fill-in-the-blank)... HAPPPY verve day tooooooo youuuuuuu.
Try it, you'll like it. One time today - come outta that damn shell (oh believe me, I know somea youn's out there ain't gots no GD shell).. come out today and have the verve to say something you've always wanted to say... Doesn't have to be a 'dinger'... Can be a compliment. Or a suggestion... Just verve it.
It ain't no use to sit and wonder why babe... don't think twice, it's alright....
Ok, outta here. Happy Verve Day. Love, Verveturd
Yeah, verve. Expression - with energy. Kinda cool - like 'nerve' and 'verb' combined. The verve of him/her. Mark (The Bird) Fidrich had a curve ball - but, me thinks his best pitch was talking to the hitters, psyching them out, or, throwing his 'verve-ball.' That Peyton Manning dude (I know you hate him Kathie, I kinda likes the feller) the verve of him and all those antics right before a play. Ya gotta love it. Dick Vitale. Sometimes his verve gets on my nerves - but, he always has verve - never atta loss for words - and every time it's winged with enthusiam. The verve of him.
Most of us are lum-dumbs, sit back - thinka shit to say, 'ceptin we usually keep it under wraps... Them verve people - they kinda blurt out whatever they think, whenever they think it. And... generally, it's right on. Howinthehell do they think so GD fast?
It ain't no use to sit and wonder why babe.... just verve it!
Or........ howinthehell do they have the kutzpah to have thoughts come from the brain and go right to the tip of their tongue? And sooooooooooo GD fast. My thoughts - or my verve - sum'bitch leaves the brain - passes right on by the lips - and on the rare occasions when the verve in me stops - it's usually here.. in my fingertips... on the GD keyboard. (GD = gosh darn, ya know?)
Sometimes I wish I had the verve to tell some folks what I'd liketa tell 'em. Oft times I'll hear someone with verve respond with exactly what thought had barely begun to cross my brain - and I'm like "Yeah... what she/he said."
Many of our Holidays are mundane. I mean, hell, it's been over 200 years since either Washington or Lincoln were born... Labor Day? Criminy. Me thinks we oughta have a Verve Day. You could say whatever you wanted - to whomever you wanted - and there'd be no recourse.
"Baby, you gotta nice butt!"... "Do you folks practice trying to give this shittya service or does it come naturally?"... "Can you spell supervisor?"... . "I REALLY enjoy working here, but, I kinda wish they'd lost your application when you applied."... "What were you thinking when you asked her out?"... "What were you thinking when he asked you out and you said yes?"...
"Justa suggestion, but me thinks you oughta replace the 40 watt light bulbs in the room where you get dressed with 75 watt bulbs.".... "Hey you, you 6'5", 225 lb beast.. do you REALLY not feel gay when you do that 'rockkkkk chockkkkk jayyyyyyyyhawkkkk kkkkkuuuu' thing?" Hehe
Or howabout the simple "hey... wanna doink?"... eh, why not. The verve of me. The verve of you. Happy Verve Day to you... Happy Verve Day tooo you.. Happy VERVE Day dear (fill-in-the-blank)... HAPPPY verve day tooooooo youuuuuuu.
Try it, you'll like it. One time today - come outta that damn shell (oh believe me, I know somea youn's out there ain't gots no GD shell).. come out today and have the verve to say something you've always wanted to say... Doesn't have to be a 'dinger'... Can be a compliment. Or a suggestion... Just verve it.
It ain't no use to sit and wonder why babe... don't think twice, it's alright....
Ok, outta here. Happy Verve Day. Love, Verveturd
Sunday, March 11, 2007
Mick was right...
Yesterday's societal way was to plan, grunt it out, and eventually whatever it was you'd set your dreams upon was yours.. Not always, but for many...
Today's society prefers the "snap of your finger" want/need... "I want what I want and I want it now".... and it just rarely (as in never-ever) works...
You can't always get what you want.... No you can't always get what you want...
I want: Money - plenty... I want - to get the hell outta this house.. I want: "her"... I want: "us"... I want: "forever and ever"... I want: A Super Bowl, A World Series, An NBA Team, Several State Championships, and William Jewell to win the NAIA...
I want a house inbetween Clearwater and St. Petersburg... and one @ Hana, on Maui... And one in the country here (hell, still gotta 'bowl' upon occasion.).. Maybe one just outsidea Estes Park for July and August... I wanna walkin the High Limit room at the Ameristar - not to be uppity (that's never been a dream) - just to feel the rush of playing for 1K versus $10.
I want a peaceful Iraq... I want world harmony... I want us all to mate and screw so much that one day we'll all be the same color and discrimination will be forever impossible... I want to never hear the words kidnapped, misappropiated, molested, sodomized, stabbed, shot, drive by, murdered, raped, mugged, car bomb, assasinate again.
Selfish wants: damn, look at that butt... Goodness she's gotta nice body... would you look at those heavenly eyes.. oh to be up close to that skin tone...
I want to be young(er) again... I want to steal a base... stretch a single into a double... dive to make a catch without worrying abouta $50 co-pay... to "stuff" something larger than a tennis ball (small GD hands I have)... I want larger hands... I want a larger - oh, never mind on that one.. (the bastards KEEP sending me those enlargement emails... how do they know?!!!)
My nuclear family back... A weekend at my grandparents.. To be seven and to stare at the large, overflowing pile of Christmas gifts under the cedar tree...
I want my son to be 13 (thus, I'd be 46) and the chance to know what I know now - and the chance to do it allover again - and be hella more forceful...
You can't always get what you want... No you can't always get what you want.... But if you try sometimes well you just might find, that ya get what you need... well said Mick - almost 40 years ago now - but rings so true today..
So - we 'customize' our wants into those more attainable... I want happy. Sure, we know that ain't gonna be 100% of time - but we can control a large GD portion of that want... I want "her" - nope,that can't be forced, and one can only control one - but it's a dream I'll never give up on....
Maybe, just maybe before I keel - one of those sports "wants" will come true. I readjust my want of "that butt... that bod... those eyes... that skin" to "wow - she's pretty!"... I can dig out pics and vids of yesteryear - and again "be there" with sister, mother, father, g-parents, me as snotnose, cousins, lost friends, etc...
The "athlete" thing is maybe still real - and people laughed at me ten years ago when I high jumped and long jumped in the Show Me games... Fuck 'em, I just might try again... Not so much to say "hey look, I can still do it" <-- which I know I can't - or at least can't like I kinda-sorta could.. but moreso to say "screw you Father Time" I ain't done running, jumping, living - just yet.
I can't go back to son 13, me 46... but I can still have the same wants/desires for him - and rededicate myself to assist in him attaining those wants any way I can... I need to readjust the hitch-in-the-get-along thought process of "pain in the butt" to "get his little butt a goin."
You can't always get what you want... No you can't always get what you want... To me though, to give up on life's wants is to basically give up. Dream. Visualize.. Want... Plan.. Piece by piece.. Stick-to-it-ness... Positive approach... Fuckin' A Ray (I know I say that too much, and I promise you I rarely - if ever - say it in public but damn it's a wonderful saying. When wants come true.. When you see the loved ones still on the planet... When a kiss is wonderful... When touch is so right... When you hear glimpses of "good heart" in those you worry/almost give up on... Close your ears: that Big "O"... wonderful life pictures live... Fuckin A Ray... beats the hell outta "Damnit Jim"...
But if you try sometimes well you just might find, that ya get what you need... want today... dream today... visualize today... hope today... love today... accept loving today... give today... We need alla them. Thanks for being here, I want ya. I needya. Love, Victurd.
Today's society prefers the "snap of your finger" want/need... "I want what I want and I want it now".... and it just rarely (as in never-ever) works...
You can't always get what you want.... No you can't always get what you want...
I want: Money - plenty... I want - to get the hell outta this house.. I want: "her"... I want: "us"... I want: "forever and ever"... I want: A Super Bowl, A World Series, An NBA Team, Several State Championships, and William Jewell to win the NAIA...
I want a house inbetween Clearwater and St. Petersburg... and one @ Hana, on Maui... And one in the country here (hell, still gotta 'bowl' upon occasion.).. Maybe one just outsidea Estes Park for July and August... I wanna walkin the High Limit room at the Ameristar - not to be uppity (that's never been a dream) - just to feel the rush of playing for 1K versus $10.
I want a peaceful Iraq... I want world harmony... I want us all to mate and screw so much that one day we'll all be the same color and discrimination will be forever impossible... I want to never hear the words kidnapped, misappropiated, molested, sodomized, stabbed, shot, drive by, murdered, raped, mugged, car bomb, assasinate again.
Selfish wants: damn, look at that butt... Goodness she's gotta nice body... would you look at those heavenly eyes.. oh to be up close to that skin tone...
I want to be young(er) again... I want to steal a base... stretch a single into a double... dive to make a catch without worrying abouta $50 co-pay... to "stuff" something larger than a tennis ball (small GD hands I have)... I want larger hands... I want a larger - oh, never mind on that one.. (the bastards KEEP sending me those enlargement emails... how do they know?!!!)
My nuclear family back... A weekend at my grandparents.. To be seven and to stare at the large, overflowing pile of Christmas gifts under the cedar tree...
I want my son to be 13 (thus, I'd be 46) and the chance to know what I know now - and the chance to do it allover again - and be hella more forceful...
You can't always get what you want... No you can't always get what you want.... But if you try sometimes well you just might find, that ya get what you need... well said Mick - almost 40 years ago now - but rings so true today..
So - we 'customize' our wants into those more attainable... I want happy. Sure, we know that ain't gonna be 100% of time - but we can control a large GD portion of that want... I want "her" - nope,that can't be forced, and one can only control one - but it's a dream I'll never give up on....
Maybe, just maybe before I keel - one of those sports "wants" will come true. I readjust my want of "that butt... that bod... those eyes... that skin" to "wow - she's pretty!"... I can dig out pics and vids of yesteryear - and again "be there" with sister, mother, father, g-parents, me as snotnose, cousins, lost friends, etc...
The "athlete" thing is maybe still real - and people laughed at me ten years ago when I high jumped and long jumped in the Show Me games... Fuck 'em, I just might try again... Not so much to say "hey look, I can still do it" <-- which I know I can't - or at least can't like I kinda-sorta could.. but moreso to say "screw you Father Time" I ain't done running, jumping, living - just yet.
I can't go back to son 13, me 46... but I can still have the same wants/desires for him - and rededicate myself to assist in him attaining those wants any way I can... I need to readjust the hitch-in-the-get-along thought process of "pain in the butt" to "get his little butt a goin."
You can't always get what you want... No you can't always get what you want... To me though, to give up on life's wants is to basically give up. Dream. Visualize.. Want... Plan.. Piece by piece.. Stick-to-it-ness... Positive approach... Fuckin' A Ray (I know I say that too much, and I promise you I rarely - if ever - say it in public but damn it's a wonderful saying. When wants come true.. When you see the loved ones still on the planet... When a kiss is wonderful... When touch is so right... When you hear glimpses of "good heart" in those you worry/almost give up on... Close your ears: that Big "O"... wonderful life pictures live... Fuckin A Ray... beats the hell outta "Damnit Jim"...
But if you try sometimes well you just might find, that ya get what you need... want today... dream today... visualize today... hope today... love today... accept loving today... give today... We need alla them. Thanks for being here, I want ya. I needya. Love, Victurd.
Friday, March 09, 2007
The anti Emmitt Smith....
Tonight I go dancing with the stars. I so suck at this endeavor it's painful to think about, and even more painful if I do get up there and there ain'ta packa people to hide my pear-shaped body behind.
Still, I enjoy. Tis wonderful to hear the music, to forget the fact my mortgage company (and my car insurance company) that sent me "uh oh" emails today... to forget the work needing done on my house as it sits.... to forget about the parking lot where every car but one has two complete bumpers and are in park.
Just getting out is good... away from the dark light and the bright monitor... And, the company is good. The company can dance like a sonofagun, so this makes it even a little more itchy. I can't say "I'm too white" for I've seen very rhythmic white dancers. I guess I've just not played this scene often - and - whilst sports has been my activity mode - I ain't great at 'em, but they come hella easier to me than dancing.
I only pray for the day people won't stop and stare and think "Good God." How's the song go? People stop and stare - they don't bother me... for there's no place else on earth that I would rather be... I ain't there yet. Patience. For me, for others. GD I wish this was a sport.
The last time I was in the dance mode - was maybe a B-, C+ was when Sly and the Family Stone were "it".. That was a long GD time ago. Living from of fraternity house. Brothers, who cared. Dates of brothers, who cared. Music too loud? Who cared?... I guess there's a common theme here too......... Who cares? Maybe I can carry that over. I dunno. She is very patient - but I worry the day will come when that might not be the case....
Maybe we can miniature golf next time, YEAH, that's it! A movie? HELL YEAH, I can sit with the best of 'em... Bowling? Fuckin' A Ray... Now we're talking.
I'm only glad winter is behind us. She probably is close to being an Olympic Figure Skater as well.... Perhaps it's too bad tonight isn't a real-whatever they call those Dancing with the Stars Amazing Race Survivor things.. I wouldn't mind if Simon dissed my ass and screamed "get the HELL offa there!".... I mean hell, who cares? I care about you, and you, and you, and you (and "you toooo Victor") - alla ya... I do, I really do.
Dance like nobody's watching. Uh huh, sure. I hate you Emmitt. All I can try to match is your smile. And that I will certainly try. Hubba hubba, Victor.
Still, I enjoy. Tis wonderful to hear the music, to forget the fact my mortgage company (and my car insurance company) that sent me "uh oh" emails today... to forget the work needing done on my house as it sits.... to forget about the parking lot where every car but one has two complete bumpers and are in park.
Just getting out is good... away from the dark light and the bright monitor... And, the company is good. The company can dance like a sonofagun, so this makes it even a little more itchy. I can't say "I'm too white" for I've seen very rhythmic white dancers. I guess I've just not played this scene often - and - whilst sports has been my activity mode - I ain't great at 'em, but they come hella easier to me than dancing.
I only pray for the day people won't stop and stare and think "Good God." How's the song go? People stop and stare - they don't bother me... for there's no place else on earth that I would rather be... I ain't there yet. Patience. For me, for others. GD I wish this was a sport.
The last time I was in the dance mode - was maybe a B-, C+ was when Sly and the Family Stone were "it".. That was a long GD time ago. Living from of fraternity house. Brothers, who cared. Dates of brothers, who cared. Music too loud? Who cared?... I guess there's a common theme here too......... Who cares? Maybe I can carry that over. I dunno. She is very patient - but I worry the day will come when that might not be the case....
Maybe we can miniature golf next time, YEAH, that's it! A movie? HELL YEAH, I can sit with the best of 'em... Bowling? Fuckin' A Ray... Now we're talking.
I'm only glad winter is behind us. She probably is close to being an Olympic Figure Skater as well.... Perhaps it's too bad tonight isn't a real-whatever they call those Dancing with the Stars Amazing Race Survivor things.. I wouldn't mind if Simon dissed my ass and screamed "get the HELL offa there!".... I mean hell, who cares? I care about you, and you, and you, and you (and "you toooo Victor") - alla ya... I do, I really do.
Dance like nobody's watching. Uh huh, sure. I hate you Emmitt. All I can try to match is your smile. And that I will certainly try. Hubba hubba, Victor.
Thursday, March 08, 2007
"and You TOO Victor!!!!!"
Imagine a 6'5" Clubber Lang. Intimidating. Strong. Built like a V. A glare that madeya shiver.
"T" moved to Liberty from Boys Town in Nebraska in the early 1970's... He was a tremendous athlete, could have a quick smile - but in a heartbeat that smile could turn to anger - and when it happened, it tweren't pretty.
I'd just graduated from High School... had had the opportunity to play basketball with "T" in pickup games at the old Catholic School located just between the then "you must live here" black neighborhood - and where I lived. We weren't besta friends - but there was a mutual respect.. He'd make a good shot - I'd nod. I'd make a good pass to him - he'd gimme a thank you wink.
The next winter - we played City League Basketball together. "T" dominated, and we had some additional decent folks - and we coasted to the league championship. Same scenerio repeated the next winter... "T" and I didn't go out and about together - but there was again, the mutual respect and comeraderie that goes along with being teammates..
Year three - I'd transferred colleges - joined a fraternity... and our old team split... and 7-8 of us from the fraternity formed a team. Tough going against T's team - but I remember we won by a few... T didn't have the same support now - but he almost single-handedly beat us...
The following week - came a verbal statement that has been associated with me by many of my friends for over thirty years. We played 'crosscourt' - thus, there were two games going on at one time.. T's team was on the West end court, ours on the East end...
Race relations were improving in the early 70's - but there still was an inequity in numbers in our small town. I'd seen T mad, but never seen him go completely off the hook. I dunno what happened - but whatever it was, I don't think it favored T or his team. The yelling/screaming/tirade T put on stopped play on both courts...
This guy could kick anyone's ass in town - he had the floor - everyone was stopped looking at him - and I actually kinda felt sorry for him as I tried to place myself in his shoes. No one was standing within twenty feet of him by now - yet all eyes/ears were upon him. He'd lost whatever composure was left.
"I'M NOT GONNA JUST HIT YA... I'M GONNA KILL YA...." at that point his eyes crossed to our court... finding me amongst the crowd... He points... silence followed... and he added "AND YOU TOOOO VICTOR!"... Still silence followed... T walked out...
In the car after, five of us... one by one they repeated "AND YOU TOOO VICTOR!"... Now - when I see a fraternity brother - or an old city guy from the day... it's "YOU TOOO VICTOR" as a greeting...
I'm sad to say T didn't live a very long life... but he certainly mellowed over the years... got a nice supplimentary job with the school district - and ended up working great with kids... He grew out quite a bit... and after a few years it was hard to remember the 'built like a V' T, and the frequent smiles on his face made it hard to believe at one time his anger overtook him.
"I'm not gonna just hit ya.. I'm gonna kill ya..... and YOU TOOO VICTOR!" A minute of my life I didn't really have a whole lot to do with, but for many, it's the only salutation they know when they see me. Actually, with the turn around T made in his life - I think he's probably smiling down from up there... maybe even looking down and giving me a quick wink every time we hear it.
Life, it be fun. I hope it's great for you... and YOU TOOO VICTOR!... Love, Victurd.
"T" moved to Liberty from Boys Town in Nebraska in the early 1970's... He was a tremendous athlete, could have a quick smile - but in a heartbeat that smile could turn to anger - and when it happened, it tweren't pretty.
I'd just graduated from High School... had had the opportunity to play basketball with "T" in pickup games at the old Catholic School located just between the then "you must live here" black neighborhood - and where I lived. We weren't besta friends - but there was a mutual respect.. He'd make a good shot - I'd nod. I'd make a good pass to him - he'd gimme a thank you wink.
The next winter - we played City League Basketball together. "T" dominated, and we had some additional decent folks - and we coasted to the league championship. Same scenerio repeated the next winter... "T" and I didn't go out and about together - but there was again, the mutual respect and comeraderie that goes along with being teammates..
Year three - I'd transferred colleges - joined a fraternity... and our old team split... and 7-8 of us from the fraternity formed a team. Tough going against T's team - but I remember we won by a few... T didn't have the same support now - but he almost single-handedly beat us...
The following week - came a verbal statement that has been associated with me by many of my friends for over thirty years. We played 'crosscourt' - thus, there were two games going on at one time.. T's team was on the West end court, ours on the East end...
Race relations were improving in the early 70's - but there still was an inequity in numbers in our small town. I'd seen T mad, but never seen him go completely off the hook. I dunno what happened - but whatever it was, I don't think it favored T or his team. The yelling/screaming/tirade T put on stopped play on both courts...
This guy could kick anyone's ass in town - he had the floor - everyone was stopped looking at him - and I actually kinda felt sorry for him as I tried to place myself in his shoes. No one was standing within twenty feet of him by now - yet all eyes/ears were upon him. He'd lost whatever composure was left.
"I'M NOT GONNA JUST HIT YA... I'M GONNA KILL YA...." at that point his eyes crossed to our court... finding me amongst the crowd... He points... silence followed... and he added "AND YOU TOOOO VICTOR!"... Still silence followed... T walked out...
In the car after, five of us... one by one they repeated "AND YOU TOOO VICTOR!"... Now - when I see a fraternity brother - or an old city guy from the day... it's "YOU TOOO VICTOR" as a greeting...
I'm sad to say T didn't live a very long life... but he certainly mellowed over the years... got a nice supplimentary job with the school district - and ended up working great with kids... He grew out quite a bit... and after a few years it was hard to remember the 'built like a V' T, and the frequent smiles on his face made it hard to believe at one time his anger overtook him.
"I'm not gonna just hit ya.. I'm gonna kill ya..... and YOU TOOO VICTOR!" A minute of my life I didn't really have a whole lot to do with, but for many, it's the only salutation they know when they see me. Actually, with the turn around T made in his life - I think he's probably smiling down from up there... maybe even looking down and giving me a quick wink every time we hear it.
Life, it be fun. I hope it's great for you... and YOU TOOO VICTOR!... Love, Victurd.
Stuff I never understood.
Why nipples grow and pee pee’s shrink in the cold. Sorry, I’m a simpleton. Anyone ever notice how a bellybutton reacts?
Why women are the colorful, beautiful ones in our world, yet, the male Cardinal carries the beauty in the bird world.
Why basketball shoes are so squeaky yet they’re called sneakers.
Why it’s called a hot water heater.
Where do Priests go for confessional?
How something can be on the tip of your head and you ain’t got the foggiest idea what it is.
Why people still use www and all that http backslash crap.
I understand the first term, but in line with that thinking – why ain’t it called a “hard-off”?
Where the stuff inside zits comes from.
At exactly what point in the colon does a cheeseburger become bona fide poop? What’s it called inbetweegnst? Cheesepo?
Why we learned the capitol of West Virginia.
Have you ever used the square root since school?
Why toilets and hooker’s tricks are called “John”s.
Who sets the Master Control Clock?
Shucks, why do they call those thing on your feet corns?
Did Sarah (phone operator on Andy Griffith) ever get a day off?
Why men don’t advertise “Under new management” at the onset of their second marriage.
Why uptight is hated yet Archie Bell (From Houston, TX) made millions telling people to tighten up.
Yes, you’re correct. I’m tired, old. Shoulda prolly taken a day off insteada doing the above. I wondered about that stuff. I double dog dare you to post something you never understood. And… if you don’t, I’ll consider all you sonsabitches “know-it-alls”… Deal? Happy day, with love, Victurd.
Why women are the colorful, beautiful ones in our world, yet, the male Cardinal carries the beauty in the bird world.
Why basketball shoes are so squeaky yet they’re called sneakers.
Why it’s called a hot water heater.
Where do Priests go for confessional?
How something can be on the tip of your head and you ain’t got the foggiest idea what it is.
Why people still use www and all that http backslash crap.
I understand the first term, but in line with that thinking – why ain’t it called a “hard-off”?
Where the stuff inside zits comes from.
At exactly what point in the colon does a cheeseburger become bona fide poop? What’s it called inbetweegnst? Cheesepo?
Why we learned the capitol of West Virginia.
Have you ever used the square root since school?
Why toilets and hooker’s tricks are called “John”s.
Who sets the Master Control Clock?
Shucks, why do they call those thing on your feet corns?
Did Sarah (phone operator on Andy Griffith) ever get a day off?
Why men don’t advertise “Under new management” at the onset of their second marriage.
Why uptight is hated yet Archie Bell (From Houston, TX) made millions telling people to tighten up.
Yes, you’re correct. I’m tired, old. Shoulda prolly taken a day off insteada doing the above. I wondered about that stuff. I double dog dare you to post something you never understood. And… if you don’t, I’ll consider all you sonsabitches “know-it-alls”… Deal? Happy day, with love, Victurd.
Tuesday, March 06, 2007
A River runs through it....
I don't have a Mark Twain story... To be honest, I've not spent that much time around rivers - but that doesn't mean there isn't a fascination, appreciation for rivers.. When I carried mail in Kansas City, KS in the early 90's - I remember seeing designated marks on the buildings WAY UP THERE - and they were labeled "Flood of 1951".... The oldtimers remembered it as if it was yesterday...
My memory of the 1993 flood ain't so great... I remember levees with water up to the tippy tops... I remember adjacent roads/bridges closed down.. and a drive across town took some thought/planning....
Isn't always the fury of a river... it's too the serenity.... Played softball in Lexington, MO.... was admittedly a rinky-dink tournament (our favorite) - and insteada a fence in leftfield - there was unrolled toilet paper strung across poles to designate the home run fence... Just on the other side of the 'fence' was the Mighty Mo. Peaceful -and these folks lived it every day... Nice...
En route home from an American Legion Baseball game in Chillicothe, MO.. A couple of beers and the enticement of the Grand River led four lads to abandon their car and swim and dive off the bridge into the sandy bottom river below...
Circa 1974... La Benite Park.. a cheesy little park just South of Liberty right up agin the banks of the Muddy Mo... Was 10pm-ish... Fourteen fraternity brothers (ages 18 to 20, maybe one or two 21's in the group) celebrating something.. hell, I don't remember.. it didn't take much of anything for cause to celebrate... Headlights coming... Oh shit... Spotlight on us... "QUICK, THROW THE BEER IN THE RIVER".. We musta lost some four cases of beer.... Can't remember the going flavor of the time... Probably Oly... Anyways, local cops get out.. "LINE UP HERE." Of course we obliged.. scared shitless we were going to slammer.. "HOW OLD ARE YOU?"... "ahm... 21 sir."... AND YOU?.... "ah, 22 sir".. NEXT? "I'm 21 sir." and so on and so forth down the line - and of course everyone was 21.... after 14th brother was questioned... Fat cop A looked at fat cop B, and then back at us... "WELL HELL... WHADDYA THROWING AWAY ALL THAT GOOD BEER FOR?!!!... and away the fat-kneeslappers went... Yes, spose we earned that....
Onea my dreams prior to my ashes bein' spread is for my son and my stepson and I to build a raft... get on that sucker (The Missouri River) in Kansas City... eat, drink and be merry... and get offa it in St. Louis.. I think it'd be a blast... and very much needed by our threesome... Spose only time will tell...
The Big River, Byrnes Mill... St. Louie, MO (Kinda sorta)... Heaven, pure heaven. My cousins converted an old grist mill into their home/haven... and there is a humongous deck all the way around the mill where one can sit in a lawn chair amongst the dogwoods coming up thru the concrete deck... and peacefully pass the time away... Cousin blocked off parta the river piece by piece, and manually extended the 4 foot damn all the way across the river. Their last name should be Kodak, honest. They bought the old bridge from the city (road was shutdown) for a dollar... and now it's fodder for cousins jumping off on Father's Day (even us old farts)... I treasure every year I get to go - for one knows not when the day will come we won't have the Big River/Byrnes Mill to go to... Words can't describe it - but it's onea natures closest things to sex..
Niangua, Current, Jack's Fork, North Fork, etc... Thanks for the memories... Some that stick out... one year we had an uneven number of floaters... one dude, rather hefty dude, was alone for the trek... he had a kickass crash into boulders.. and his canoe now looked something like an "L" insteada a straight "I".. to watch him navigate the remainder of the way was so GD funny.. but I kinda felt sorry for him... I remember first time I ever went.. "Ha.. I got this crap down.." Had my cigs for the weekend nicely stowed in a mason jar.. sealed tight... uh huh, first capsize.. gone... I remember whatshername - the Current had flooded only weeks earlier... leaves from the flood adorned the trees twelve feet above.. we capsized.. the water was frigid... I really think she mighta died had she not grabbed a tree limb as she passed by.. she could not breathe the water was so cold... And of course Mr. Sanford... around a curve, thought it was a safe place to takea crap.. Lo and behold a group of young punks riding on rubber rafts we'd bantered with up river... they laughed their asses off to see Sanford bent over pooping on the bank.. "YOU SHUT YOUR ASSES UP OR I'LL GO GET MY GD DARTS!"... hehe... one minute of my life I will never, ever forget (unless I pee my pants and forget my name.) Float trips, great times, great friends, great views...
Tryst Falls... 'river' is pushing it.. but it flows.. and there's like a 12 foot waterfall.. We'd invite other Sigma Nu fraternities from small colleges to our softball tourneys at the small field beside.. By the enda the day - no one gave a shit about softball.. and we all huddled around the falls... sharing cold ones.. (I know there are patterns to my life eh?)... Another moment I'll never forget.. Buddy "Lew" jumping off falls.. I was around the corner... some five-ten minutes later they were carrying him to car... off to hospital.. behind a sun/alcohol mixed smile - and a big ole shit eatin' grin Lew looks up at me proudly, smiling and says "Vic, I broke my ankle" and laughed and laughed and laughed...
Rivers are wonderful... I could sit and watch for hours.. I likes all sizes... all speeds.. all kindsa lays of the lands... A part of life that some live daily... others of us rarely... but when we do it's special... I wonder if river rats eventually take it for granted... Cry me a river... Moon river... Bridge over troubled water... Blue Bayou... Michael row the boat ashore... Proud Mary.. Take me to the river... Up on cripple creek... Me hopes u enjoy rivers... I know I do... Happy happy, Victurd
My memory of the 1993 flood ain't so great... I remember levees with water up to the tippy tops... I remember adjacent roads/bridges closed down.. and a drive across town took some thought/planning....
Isn't always the fury of a river... it's too the serenity.... Played softball in Lexington, MO.... was admittedly a rinky-dink tournament (our favorite) - and insteada a fence in leftfield - there was unrolled toilet paper strung across poles to designate the home run fence... Just on the other side of the 'fence' was the Mighty Mo. Peaceful -and these folks lived it every day... Nice...
En route home from an American Legion Baseball game in Chillicothe, MO.. A couple of beers and the enticement of the Grand River led four lads to abandon their car and swim and dive off the bridge into the sandy bottom river below...
Circa 1974... La Benite Park.. a cheesy little park just South of Liberty right up agin the banks of the Muddy Mo... Was 10pm-ish... Fourteen fraternity brothers (ages 18 to 20, maybe one or two 21's in the group) celebrating something.. hell, I don't remember.. it didn't take much of anything for cause to celebrate... Headlights coming... Oh shit... Spotlight on us... "QUICK, THROW THE BEER IN THE RIVER".. We musta lost some four cases of beer.... Can't remember the going flavor of the time... Probably Oly... Anyways, local cops get out.. "LINE UP HERE." Of course we obliged.. scared shitless we were going to slammer.. "HOW OLD ARE YOU?"... "ahm... 21 sir."... AND YOU?.... "ah, 22 sir".. NEXT? "I'm 21 sir." and so on and so forth down the line - and of course everyone was 21.... after 14th brother was questioned... Fat cop A looked at fat cop B, and then back at us... "WELL HELL... WHADDYA THROWING AWAY ALL THAT GOOD BEER FOR?!!!... and away the fat-kneeslappers went... Yes, spose we earned that....
Onea my dreams prior to my ashes bein' spread is for my son and my stepson and I to build a raft... get on that sucker (The Missouri River) in Kansas City... eat, drink and be merry... and get offa it in St. Louis.. I think it'd be a blast... and very much needed by our threesome... Spose only time will tell...
The Big River, Byrnes Mill... St. Louie, MO (Kinda sorta)... Heaven, pure heaven. My cousins converted an old grist mill into their home/haven... and there is a humongous deck all the way around the mill where one can sit in a lawn chair amongst the dogwoods coming up thru the concrete deck... and peacefully pass the time away... Cousin blocked off parta the river piece by piece, and manually extended the 4 foot damn all the way across the river. Their last name should be Kodak, honest. They bought the old bridge from the city (road was shutdown) for a dollar... and now it's fodder for cousins jumping off on Father's Day (even us old farts)... I treasure every year I get to go - for one knows not when the day will come we won't have the Big River/Byrnes Mill to go to... Words can't describe it - but it's onea natures closest things to sex..
Niangua, Current, Jack's Fork, North Fork, etc... Thanks for the memories... Some that stick out... one year we had an uneven number of floaters... one dude, rather hefty dude, was alone for the trek... he had a kickass crash into boulders.. and his canoe now looked something like an "L" insteada a straight "I".. to watch him navigate the remainder of the way was so GD funny.. but I kinda felt sorry for him... I remember first time I ever went.. "Ha.. I got this crap down.." Had my cigs for the weekend nicely stowed in a mason jar.. sealed tight... uh huh, first capsize.. gone... I remember whatshername - the Current had flooded only weeks earlier... leaves from the flood adorned the trees twelve feet above.. we capsized.. the water was frigid... I really think she mighta died had she not grabbed a tree limb as she passed by.. she could not breathe the water was so cold... And of course Mr. Sanford... around a curve, thought it was a safe place to takea crap.. Lo and behold a group of young punks riding on rubber rafts we'd bantered with up river... they laughed their asses off to see Sanford bent over pooping on the bank.. "YOU SHUT YOUR ASSES UP OR I'LL GO GET MY GD DARTS!"... hehe... one minute of my life I will never, ever forget (unless I pee my pants and forget my name.) Float trips, great times, great friends, great views...
Tryst Falls... 'river' is pushing it.. but it flows.. and there's like a 12 foot waterfall.. We'd invite other Sigma Nu fraternities from small colleges to our softball tourneys at the small field beside.. By the enda the day - no one gave a shit about softball.. and we all huddled around the falls... sharing cold ones.. (I know there are patterns to my life eh?)... Another moment I'll never forget.. Buddy "Lew" jumping off falls.. I was around the corner... some five-ten minutes later they were carrying him to car... off to hospital.. behind a sun/alcohol mixed smile - and a big ole shit eatin' grin Lew looks up at me proudly, smiling and says "Vic, I broke my ankle" and laughed and laughed and laughed...
Rivers are wonderful... I could sit and watch for hours.. I likes all sizes... all speeds.. all kindsa lays of the lands... A part of life that some live daily... others of us rarely... but when we do it's special... I wonder if river rats eventually take it for granted... Cry me a river... Moon river... Bridge over troubled water... Blue Bayou... Michael row the boat ashore... Proud Mary.. Take me to the river... Up on cripple creek... Me hopes u enjoy rivers... I know I do... Happy happy, Victurd
Is it possible to be ‘drunk happy’ and not drunk?
Who knows why these moods swing… Oh, there’s a background for it.. and oh.. I do my damndest to not let anyone see me down… and when I’m down – I’ve practiced that ‘crooked mouth’ so you’d never know it! Dick Howser, beloved former Kansas City Royal manager usedta say “ya just can’t get too up on the highs, nor too down during the lows.” Wow, that’s a life lesson…
Today – you could walk up, slap me across the face, slash my tires, push me over, light my clothes on fire……. Damn near anything and I don’t think you’d sock the happy outta me.
I just figured – I do plenty of the down talk (see Yucky blog) that I might as well boast when the rollercoaster is at the apex. Life, it’s really fucking good. When up, colors are brighter, smiles are bigger, funny stuff is funnier – and somehow people can simply sense this happiness….
The feel of making perfect contact during a baseball at bat…. “hitting the sweet spot”… Letting loose of a basketball shot and visualizing/knowing it’s going in before it ever gets close to the basket… lettin’ go of a 16 lb bowling ball and knowing “YESSSSS!” before it ever knocks ‘em all down.
The baited anticipation of opening the door of a loved one’s house ya ain’t seen in awhile – and knowing the feel of that “hey I love you” hug before you even get it...
Pretty people look even prettier, ugly people look even prettier. Being happy is like the song “The girls all get prettier at closing time.” Don’t rain on my parade. Lemme rephrase. Nothing you could do could rain on my parade.
May you follow the urge to share the feel of those times when life is grand… May it rub off on those around you.. May you be as thankful to the ones who “put you there” as I.. May your rollercoaster of life not be so topsy turvey… May you fool the hell outta ‘em in the down times… May you have that shit-eatin’ “fuckin A Ray” smile when life, it be good.
I loveya. Love is even more pronounced in happy times. Happy day… literally, Victurd.
Today – you could walk up, slap me across the face, slash my tires, push me over, light my clothes on fire……. Damn near anything and I don’t think you’d sock the happy outta me.
I just figured – I do plenty of the down talk (see Yucky blog) that I might as well boast when the rollercoaster is at the apex. Life, it’s really fucking good. When up, colors are brighter, smiles are bigger, funny stuff is funnier – and somehow people can simply sense this happiness….
The feel of making perfect contact during a baseball at bat…. “hitting the sweet spot”… Letting loose of a basketball shot and visualizing/knowing it’s going in before it ever gets close to the basket… lettin’ go of a 16 lb bowling ball and knowing “YESSSSS!” before it ever knocks ‘em all down.
The baited anticipation of opening the door of a loved one’s house ya ain’t seen in awhile – and knowing the feel of that “hey I love you” hug before you even get it...
Pretty people look even prettier, ugly people look even prettier. Being happy is like the song “The girls all get prettier at closing time.” Don’t rain on my parade. Lemme rephrase. Nothing you could do could rain on my parade.
May you follow the urge to share the feel of those times when life is grand… May it rub off on those around you.. May you be as thankful to the ones who “put you there” as I.. May your rollercoaster of life not be so topsy turvey… May you fool the hell outta ‘em in the down times… May you have that shit-eatin’ “fuckin A Ray” smile when life, it be good.
I loveya. Love is even more pronounced in happy times. Happy day… literally, Victurd.
Sunday, March 04, 2007
That was the week that was....
Sunday... so long ago I don't remember...
Monday... $3 hotwings (for 12 of em) at the Landing... Call me a tightwad... Earned... And of course the 3rd place in the Golden T bowling tourney....
Tuesday... Dinner at the Daily Limit. Owner is heap big MU fan... $3.95 "any burger on the menu"(is there a pattern here?). and they're (the burgers) big sum'bitches... Good company.. Nice time... Ceptin' threw up on the way home. (I knew you'd love hearing that one... I guess my chili burger was just a tad too spicy for me.)... Almost threw up later as a 21 year old and I continued our disagreement as to who should purchase his cigs and beer. (Thanks again Grundy for the 'calm' in me... I needed it.)
Wednesday... How's that one dude's song go? Now I've, had, the time of my life... Dinner at food fast Italian joint (the Bronx, highly recommend).. you can even write your name on wall if u so desire... or, even draw a picture of Fred Flintsone... Raining like hell... Why is it the man's role to go grab car, pull up close? A drenched mo-fo I was.... Hailstorm (Thank goodness it waited until I got inside the car).... Me thinks He was just reminding who is in charge.... Stomp... light, fun, amazing, and not nearly as noisy as people believe it is... However, I hate young people who are soooo GD limber... Ameristar... slots (lost), blackjack (won), and penny slots (won). Great company, great time. An evening I'd like to repeat over and over and over. Rectom only time will tell.
Thursday.. More beer/cig discussion (Caller ID at work... after first hateful phone call.. no more calls answered... four ugly messages, and fifth was "honeymoon-I'm sorry") followed by someone who got off work and purposely avoided going home. Hmm, wonder why? Liquor influenced blog later that night about the big "O". Sorry, I guess. Again, me thinks He has something to do with that. I mean, if men could figure out women, wouldn't life be boring?
Friday... Friend's 49th bd.. Two beers after work with co-workers... back to Liberty... snoozed early...
Saturday... Reffed four games, schedule all screwed up... was sposedta do six... glad it was screwed up... I gotta nap in between games 1 and 2... Hada little kid who'd earlier in the game grabbed this kids T-shirt with a vengence... later... I musta missed the first lick.. same kid running down court with hellbent look on face... caught up to and purposely kicked the kid he was guarding... blew whistle... walked up to him... said "hey... that's a little too much aggression... this is basketball, not football." Three minutes later, coach says "is everything Ok with #14?"... Shit, he was ballin' his eyes out. (First grader). Reckon I shoulda phrased it some other way, but I think he got the point.... Dinner at Mexican joint with fellow ref/fraternity brother... good time... asked him about who had impact on his life... was interesting to learn "both grandma's.. one had everything, the other had nothing, yet they both had the same morals." Cool. Way cool. Alrighty then you sum'bitches - said with love - IF YOU WON'T COMMENT HERE ABOUT IMPACTIVE PEOPLE - ask someone about theirs... my buddy almost started crying... was a good thing.....
Bed, early again.
Sunday.... Breakfast/newspaper/coffee/people watching at Hy Vee.. Drove to Blingville to give friend small present.... Nap... (There seems to be a nap/tightwad pattern here ain't there?).. It's me it's me it's Earnest T. Sorry. Tis. During nap, had bizzare dream, and only sharing 'cause I never remember dreams.... Walked into old fraternity house... was in room fixing computer... cords everywhere... someone very fervently trying to open door... cords were blocking... thought to self "now whointhehell would continue to try when it's in plain GD sight there are cords there?".. knew right after I saw. "Come on down... "XYZ" (Trucking company) is here... we need to apologize." Didn't understand that one - but went... bizarre setting... was in living room of frat house... various folks (Some co-workers, but mostly friends from past) - all laying on floor in jammies with blankets and pillows ... placed my bod in between two that were mostly covered up... the chick on my right though (a friend) - she had her shirt hiked up and her jammie pants hiked down to where like 4 inches of her butt was exposed... when I saw the face I was shocked, as she heap big religious person... rectom we all wear different outfits to bed huh?... XYZ chicky tried talking... Irish band was walking thru living room (WHY are dreams wierd like this? WHY ain't they like real life?)... XYZ chicky tries four times to begin speaking... noise first three, then band for last one... "That does it, I've never been so humiliated in my life." Starts putting on coat... heading for door... I stop her.. tell her "hey, we're sorry.. none of us intended for any of this to take place... we apologize... " She came back, sat down.. took coat off.. started talking about trucking.. then she said "nah, that's ok." Somehow she was smiling, but maybe still hurting... So, volunteered to show her around fraternity house. It usedta be kinda interesting. Tried going to basement. Ceptin they were having a Haunted House down there for charity. (Why ain't dreams like real life?) CJ was there.. Hell, I didn't recognize her (dressed hauntingly) until she was halfway through telling me something (All I remember hearing was something about cats, mice and poison) but it was so damn noisy I didn't catch it all - but I detected from what little I heard she was a dog person.... Took her (XYZ chick) back toward kitchen, opened door, and insteada the kitchen there was a huge, wonderful inside commercial mall attached. Sum'bitch, the house had changed. By this time, I noticed chicky was trying to hold my hand and actually was coming on to me.. I shoulda known it was a dream 'cause that shit just never happens.... She talked as if from foreign country... I was uncomfy as hell... The bar musta just been openin', for every step we'd take she got uglier and uglier and I noticed more warts, moles, facial deformities.. Forgot her name, so asked. Pronounced like Sven (thought that was dude's name) but spelled with a G. She asked me if I knew such-n-such pro golfer (I'd heard the name.. didn't know whatinthehell country he was from though)... and boom, I woke up. Dreams are eerie ain't they?
Then I went to the computer and wrote blog on that was the week that was. I'll never understand why people call me weird. Hopin' you keep a mental diary on your weeks, or, at least think about 'em at weeks end as you lay to study eyelids. Love ya, Victurd.
*Addendum... went to gym (FINALLY)... only did eight reps of everything... skipped the crunches (I'll ease into this crap)... got on the elliptical... had aim for 30 minutes... started coughing.. changed aim to 20 minutes... coughed s'more.. dirty looks had me offa there at 16 minutes... Got up on scale... placed fingers over eyes... slowly opened them... GD, 194. (Last gym check was like 214)... I guess that's what a 4 week cold does to one... or, what softness does to one... I ain't real sure now if I wanna gain or if I wanna lose. Crap!
Monday... $3 hotwings (for 12 of em) at the Landing... Call me a tightwad... Earned... And of course the 3rd place in the Golden T bowling tourney....
Tuesday... Dinner at the Daily Limit. Owner is heap big MU fan... $3.95 "any burger on the menu"(is there a pattern here?). and they're (the burgers) big sum'bitches... Good company.. Nice time... Ceptin' threw up on the way home. (I knew you'd love hearing that one... I guess my chili burger was just a tad too spicy for me.)... Almost threw up later as a 21 year old and I continued our disagreement as to who should purchase his cigs and beer. (Thanks again Grundy for the 'calm' in me... I needed it.)
Wednesday... How's that one dude's song go? Now I've, had, the time of my life... Dinner at food fast Italian joint (the Bronx, highly recommend).. you can even write your name on wall if u so desire... or, even draw a picture of Fred Flintsone... Raining like hell... Why is it the man's role to go grab car, pull up close? A drenched mo-fo I was.... Hailstorm (Thank goodness it waited until I got inside the car).... Me thinks He was just reminding who is in charge.... Stomp... light, fun, amazing, and not nearly as noisy as people believe it is... However, I hate young people who are soooo GD limber... Ameristar... slots (lost), blackjack (won), and penny slots (won). Great company, great time. An evening I'd like to repeat over and over and over. Rectom only time will tell.
Thursday.. More beer/cig discussion (Caller ID at work... after first hateful phone call.. no more calls answered... four ugly messages, and fifth was "honeymoon-I'm sorry") followed by someone who got off work and purposely avoided going home. Hmm, wonder why? Liquor influenced blog later that night about the big "O". Sorry, I guess. Again, me thinks He has something to do with that. I mean, if men could figure out women, wouldn't life be boring?
Friday... Friend's 49th bd.. Two beers after work with co-workers... back to Liberty... snoozed early...
Saturday... Reffed four games, schedule all screwed up... was sposedta do six... glad it was screwed up... I gotta nap in between games 1 and 2... Hada little kid who'd earlier in the game grabbed this kids T-shirt with a vengence... later... I musta missed the first lick.. same kid running down court with hellbent look on face... caught up to and purposely kicked the kid he was guarding... blew whistle... walked up to him... said "hey... that's a little too much aggression... this is basketball, not football." Three minutes later, coach says "is everything Ok with #14?"... Shit, he was ballin' his eyes out. (First grader). Reckon I shoulda phrased it some other way, but I think he got the point.... Dinner at Mexican joint with fellow ref/fraternity brother... good time... asked him about who had impact on his life... was interesting to learn "both grandma's.. one had everything, the other had nothing, yet they both had the same morals." Cool. Way cool. Alrighty then you sum'bitches - said with love - IF YOU WON'T COMMENT HERE ABOUT IMPACTIVE PEOPLE - ask someone about theirs... my buddy almost started crying... was a good thing.....
Bed, early again.
Sunday.... Breakfast/newspaper/coffee/people watching at Hy Vee.. Drove to Blingville to give friend small present.... Nap... (There seems to be a nap/tightwad pattern here ain't there?).. It's me it's me it's Earnest T. Sorry. Tis. During nap, had bizzare dream, and only sharing 'cause I never remember dreams.... Walked into old fraternity house... was in room fixing computer... cords everywhere... someone very fervently trying to open door... cords were blocking... thought to self "now whointhehell would continue to try when it's in plain GD sight there are cords there?".. knew right after I saw. "Come on down... "XYZ" (Trucking company) is here... we need to apologize." Didn't understand that one - but went... bizarre setting... was in living room of frat house... various folks (Some co-workers, but mostly friends from past) - all laying on floor in jammies with blankets and pillows ... placed my bod in between two that were mostly covered up... the chick on my right though (a friend) - she had her shirt hiked up and her jammie pants hiked down to where like 4 inches of her butt was exposed... when I saw the face I was shocked, as she heap big religious person... rectom we all wear different outfits to bed huh?... XYZ chicky tried talking... Irish band was walking thru living room (WHY are dreams wierd like this? WHY ain't they like real life?)... XYZ chicky tries four times to begin speaking... noise first three, then band for last one... "That does it, I've never been so humiliated in my life." Starts putting on coat... heading for door... I stop her.. tell her "hey, we're sorry.. none of us intended for any of this to take place... we apologize... " She came back, sat down.. took coat off.. started talking about trucking.. then she said "nah, that's ok." Somehow she was smiling, but maybe still hurting... So, volunteered to show her around fraternity house. It usedta be kinda interesting. Tried going to basement. Ceptin they were having a Haunted House down there for charity. (Why ain't dreams like real life?) CJ was there.. Hell, I didn't recognize her (dressed hauntingly) until she was halfway through telling me something (All I remember hearing was something about cats, mice and poison) but it was so damn noisy I didn't catch it all - but I detected from what little I heard she was a dog person.... Took her (XYZ chick) back toward kitchen, opened door, and insteada the kitchen there was a huge, wonderful inside commercial mall attached. Sum'bitch, the house had changed. By this time, I noticed chicky was trying to hold my hand and actually was coming on to me.. I shoulda known it was a dream 'cause that shit just never happens.... She talked as if from foreign country... I was uncomfy as hell... The bar musta just been openin', for every step we'd take she got uglier and uglier and I noticed more warts, moles, facial deformities.. Forgot her name, so asked. Pronounced like Sven (thought that was dude's name) but spelled with a G. She asked me if I knew such-n-such pro golfer (I'd heard the name.. didn't know whatinthehell country he was from though)... and boom, I woke up. Dreams are eerie ain't they?
Then I went to the computer and wrote blog on that was the week that was. I'll never understand why people call me weird. Hopin' you keep a mental diary on your weeks, or, at least think about 'em at weeks end as you lay to study eyelids. Love ya, Victurd.
*Addendum... went to gym (FINALLY)... only did eight reps of everything... skipped the crunches (I'll ease into this crap)... got on the elliptical... had aim for 30 minutes... started coughing.. changed aim to 20 minutes... coughed s'more.. dirty looks had me offa there at 16 minutes... Got up on scale... placed fingers over eyes... slowly opened them... GD, 194. (Last gym check was like 214)... I guess that's what a 4 week cold does to one... or, what softness does to one... I ain't real sure now if I wanna gain or if I wanna lose. Crap!
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