Celebrate... celebrate... dance to the music.....

Thank goodness for the ability to backspace… I’ve started this blog four times… Was gonna write about the drive in to work (I got here at 6:30, ain’t gotta be here until 8am.. but the peepers they was open, I wanted/needed coffee.. didn’t have any at home – so out the door I went at 5am.. Sitting at the diner, drinking coffee, reading paper, smoking cigs  now that’s stuff I like..)… The drive – the thoughts were semi negative – and I started to pen – but backed off…

I was gonna write about how I think I’m gonna retire ‘cause work has become a puppet show (was a good place to work not that long ago) – I usedta have as much fun as McMurphy here.. then I got lobotomized too.. Mebbe one day I’ll run like the Chief did… then I thought… “nah, I ain’t got enough money to retire anyways.. and besides.. the IT people are probably reading this, and if the strings from above mandate they snoop electronically (and they do it), then they’re probably the type that would get off on printing it and placing it on boss’s desk.” Would be kinda fun though, just one time, to let ‘em know how I feel! (Have another Dorito or cashew there!)

So….. insteada standing on my head to turn a frown intoa smile – I thought I’d just start with a list of stuff I do like….

Petite woman… Victor you GD pig. So? Ain’t we entitled to preferences?

The creamy stuff insidea Hostess cupcake.

Finding a penny face up and putting it in my pocket…

Finding a penny face down, flipping it over and walking away with a smile..

A small kid getting on base, and that millisecond after where his eyeballs find mom and dad’s eyeballs – and the smiles that accompany that…

An elderly couple displaying pubic affection…

Holding my breath until I know for sure the squirrel made it across the street as the car from the other direction comes at him…

Playing with Jackson, my Maine Coon cat, and he grabs me with both paws, but his claws ain’t out… and he doesn’t put ‘em out on purpose, ‘cause there are occasions where he likes me.

Admitting that the written word here ain’t gospel. (Ok, men drivers can suck too!)..

Watching a child having fun on the beach running away from the ocean to avoid the incoming wave…

Finding and plucking that GD half inch long hair that had grown on my ear and thinking about all the giggles the co-workers have likely had over it the last week or so…

A soldier coming home…

Watching a couple who had been arguing sharing a hug and a kiss…

Any parent of a working kid where the kid says ‘thank you sir.”

Walking past a complete stranger and we each choose to smile.

Watching an urchin at a dance recital goof up, recover, proudly finish – and top it all of with a huge smile…

Love.

Sex. (Victor you GD pig.) NO I’M NOT! I’ve been a… “celebate, celebate, dance to the music.”

Seeing my son flash a gorgeous smile.

Watching anyone having fun.

The sauna.

A hugeass platea ribs..

The look of the yard fresh after mowing.

The awesome skintone of a beautiful woman that absolutely drives me nuts..

Breakfast.

HR people who are really HR people.

Giving appreciation to one for a job well done.

Getting recognition for a job well done.

Miscalculating my checkbook only to find $37 more dollars than I thought I had.

Puppy breath.

Beautiful, wonderful, shapely, 3D, female butts. (Victor, are you some kinda GD perve?)… Mebbe, what the hell.. I love lookin’!!!

A happy poor person…

Any volunteer…

A sick toddlers return to perkiness…

Sundresses…

That’s the way, uh huh uh uh, I like stuff. There’s a lot to like in this world. Back in the dinosaur days – I remember delivering Frito’s to onea the poorest sections of Kansas City. The homeless would scavenge thru the dumpsters out backa the Piggly Wiggly.. Satiated, one would leave. The next would come up – and find treasures the first had passed over. We sometimes forget the treasures life affords. (Victor, just whointhehell are you talking to?)…. Me.

Celebrate, celebrate – dance to the music…. Hey? Go gobble up life wouldya? It’s a wonderful feast. Love, Victurd.

Short and quick.......

I’ve always said “If I were black, I would be dead by now due to fighting back at prejudice…” Today… I put tar on roughly 1/3rd of my roof… and, after a heaping helping of paint thinner to try to get it off my legs, hands, chest, face, etc.. .. And pre shower… I looked black…. Ok, so I peeked… Nope, I was fake… A wannabe…

This happened a couple of years ago… but just read it on Chuck Shephard’s News of the Weird… “That blows dad.”….. Seems… A Chicago female physician impregnated herself with sperm from her boyfriend doctor… Only problem was, it was from oral sex.. Male doc sued for “theft”… Court ruled it a “gift”… Eww… and you’ve got to be kidding…

Frieda Birnbaum, age 60, just had twin boys. I say “to each his (or her) own.”.. Do I think she’ll be a good mommy?… Depends…

Reid and Soanya… If you haven’t been here… They are a couple (he 55, she 23) attempting to break the record for continuous sailing.. Their website, 1000days.net, takes us along their journey… It’s been eventful to say the least thus far… First.. They found themselves smack dab in the middle of a Naval firing range with a small Naval airplane politely telling them to “get the hell outta here.”… A few nights later.. .they collided with a freighter.. And have been doing repairs ever since.. Really not much new… 37 days now.. They’ll circle the globe three times… About all I got outta the most recent read was Soanya talking about Reid and mast repair… it’s hell getting old…

Marshall Dillon just turned 84. Damn time flies.

Back to the grind tomorrow… Whoopie… I say that, but again, I’m thankful I gots the legs to walk in.. the eyes to see the computer… and the ears to hear Kendra yell from her desk to someone in the parking lot…

Ok, that’s it… Short and Quick… and no, this title has nothing to do with the sexual prowess/lack thereof of the blogwriter… Ok… but maybe only after it’s been awhile!

Happy four day week….. Love, Victurd.

And the walls... .came tumble'n down...

GD rain….

7:34pm… 5/27/07... Sitting at the PC (What’s new?!!)… a (roughly) 4 ft, by 8 ft section of the ceiling came “tumble’n down”…. Yes.. It partially landed atop me… I’m ok… and… fully capable of looking up attorneys in the Yeller Pages…

I’ve decided to sue: My ex sister-inlaw (bought the house from her)… the National Gypsum Company (They made the shitty sheetrock)… GAF Materials Corp (they made the shingles)…
ReMax (surely they sold this house at one time… don’t they sell everything?)… Harley Davidson (I know.. This sounds roundabout.. But mebbe had she not rode off on one.. there’d been sufficient funds [two incomes] to pay 12 illegal aliens to re-roof this sucker in no time.)…

Nah… all one can do is laugh… and I did… It’s been leaking.. I went to Lumber Yard today.. I thought they closed at 6pm…. Go there at 4:50... Here this announcement “we’re closing in ten minutes… please bring all purchases to the counter at this time”… SHIT, I hadn’t even found the roof fixer upper products… So…. Even though I’d already done my 30 minutes on the elliptical machine… I - RAN… ailse to aisle…

Finally found the goop to repair roof… huffed and puffed my way up to counter… Feller in fronta me was bitching/moaning at poor (mebbe Jr in HS) clerk… “YOUR AD IS MISLEADING… ON THE TV, IT SOUNDED LIKE EVERYTHING IS 20% OFF THE ENTIRE MEMORIAL DAY WEEKEND.” “I’m sorry sir.. I just work here twelve hours a week when I ain’t practicing’ sports… trying to get enough money saved up to take Jenny to the Drive In this summer so we can make out in my ‘87 Caprice.” He didn’t say that, but I thought it, and.. He probably did too.. Like this poor kid had anything to do with that…

So………….. I go home, read the ‘structions…. “after you put this goop down, place the adhesive cloth down.. And then add another layer of this goop for best results.” Shit. I didn’t buy the adhesive cloth… I’m adding Sutherland Lumber to the list of folks I’m suing…

So.. To heighten the mood… I went to you tube.com and listened to Dee Clark’s “Raindrops falling from my eyes”… and then BJ Thomas’s “Raindrops keep falling from on my head.”.. and then… The Temptations (my alltime fav group.. The dead guys.. Not the new guys) “I wish it would rain.”

(Oh, and I forgot Owens-Corning.. There’s asbestos shit allover the place here.)

Justa day in the life… I bet you GD (gosh darn) women wished this upon me for talking about women drivers yesterday. You bitches!

Sooooooooooo… tomorrow… I climb the ladder… spread this god-awful black gooey stuff on the places that leak…. And then mebbe next weekend I’ll mess with the sheetrock… and then mebbe late June I’ll figure out a way to get it to where it matches the resta the textured ceiling…

Ya gotta admit, it is an interesting life I lead… I canardly wait to see what happens tomorrow…. Could my bank account possibly be overdrawn due to those malicious bastards in the IT department at work obtaining my login/password?… Could I go to the gym to piddle on the elliptical machine shortly after the water aerobics class lets out? (To make a short story long, when I first separated… and my head was finally semi-screwed on straight… I bought a one year membership to our wonderful Community Center… I excitedly threw on my spiffy workout attire… splashed some expensive cologne on… with (spandex) baited anticipation - I drove to workout.. All was great… did my workout.. Went to sauna.. YES, YES.. This is going well… Can’t WAIT to get in Jacuzzi… finally.. Done… to Jacuzzi…. Shortly followed by four 70-somethings that had just gotten out of water aerobics class… Oh well… I’ll find her… one day.)

Where was I? Oh yeah, suing/roof patching…. Ok… All is cool.. Again, I remember the folks in Kansas whose homes were blown completely away… I remember the feller sleeping under the bridge at the downtown I-35 loop… I remember all the problems around the world.. And the long story I read in today’s KC Star about the men and women that didn’t come home from Iraq.. And the affect on their families…

Ya gotta just laugh (at the roof)… and I do… and am…

As I climb up and down the ladder tomorrow… I be hopin’ the ups and downs of your life are managed well by you… Life can’t rain on my parade…

Happy Memorial Day to you… While I won’t be visiting my folks, sister’s graves… I do think about them… I hope you spend this day to think about all you loved that are no longer around… I (and I’m sure you too) do that daily anyways… but it’s great we gotta designated day to formally do so… Love, Victurd.

Women drivers......

Ok, so I’m biased. Every working day, I traverse 30-some miles along local roads, Interstate, and s’more local roads to get to my friendly cubicle confines.

If it weren’t for my headliner falling down (oh, sorry… I hadn’t added that one to the checkenginelight being on/sometimes/mosta the time/whenever it wants, the RNDL (no P), the brake light stuck on, the AC out, the water leak [thus, heater on full blast in line at McDonalds - remember no AC], the bumper in front cracked in half [half missing], the key broken off in ignition, thus a screwdriver to start it [you might be a redneck if]).. Wherethehell was I? Oh yeah, if it weren’t for my headliner falling down, whenever I’m tailgated - I’d bet damn near a hundred dollars that it was a woman….. And damn near 90% of the time it is….

And….. Women talk on the phone and drive… oh sure, men do too, but do we need to do a study on the average length of time per phone call by men and women? Aha, gotya. (But Victor, you shave on the way to work) Shuddup and go back to your Memorial Day barbeque!

Blonde was driving down the road… weaving right…. weaving left… weaving right.. Weaving left… head bobbing to right… bobbing to left… perty soon, an officer pulled her over.. “Afternoon ma’am… do you realize you’re continually bobbing to the right, and then to the left, and so on?”… “YES officer… but the TREES.. The TREES!”… “Ahm, ma’am… your air freshener?” (Victor, that was bad.. And I think you’ve even told it before.).. Shuddup baked bean-breath…

So… they put on make up… they turn around to talk to whomever is in the backseat… they turn the rear view mirror to them so now it ain’t a rear view mirror it’s a “God you look gorgeous” mirror (And no idea who’s behind them..)

Speed limit? There’s a chick at work… Everytime I get in to go to lunch with her I aloud say “Our Father… who art in Heaven..”.. She drives like she just robbed a bank and she HAS to get away… 80 MPH weaving in and outta traffic… TURNING AROUND TO TALK TO BACKSEAT FOLKS… I’ve literally grabbed the wheel from the shotgun position on numerous times… (She’s hella younger and I’ve given her the daddy speech “damn girl, you needta slow down, use more caution… we want you around.”)

So….. That about sums up my opinion of women drivers…..

And then I saw.... Milka Duna…. Holy shit is she pretty… You know? She’ll be on TV today.. Or is that tomorrow?… the Indy 500... Such natural beauty.. And a wonderful driver…

Did I mention I’ve changed my stance? Happy left and right turns to you… Objects may be closer than they appear… Yield to the right of way.. Construction ahead.. (Ain’t life a continual construction zone?)… No driving on shoulder… Don’t cross solid white lines….

Buckle up….. Life’s a ride….. Love, Victurd.

Footprints in the sand.....

are kind of a nifty thing… at our beginning.. We’re actually crawling along, thus, palm/knee and toe prints… accompanied by the larger footprints of our parents - and perhaps some prints somewhere in between of our siblings…

Along the way - we walk - and make our own footprints…. Later… we venture off - and the footprints are separated… sometimes, allofasudden there’s another set of prints right there beside us… most generally in this stage, they’re a mere inches from each other…

Soon.. Appears anotherona those palm/knee/toe prints… and perhaps another.. And another….

We reestablish with our nuclear family in later years… and notice that the footprints of the elderly are back to where they were upon the onset of the relationship - within inches of each other.. Albeit noticeably a shorter span between prints..

Sometimes in life - we can see prints wondering off… choices in the sand… cohesive walks in the sand can become separate paths… some turn completely around… some eventually reunite.. The struggle in the walk can be noticed….

When the prints from a parent can no longer be seen - all we have to remember are the prints behind us… and the memories we have from making those prints….

Occasionally even blood footprints separate… Lord I hope it’s not forever - but my take is: you can burn bridges with friends - but you only set them on fire with loved ones/kin…

As we walk along the beach… even if there’s only one set of prints… what better than to be walking along the beach of life…

I’m thankful for the prints of my friends, ex’s, parents, sister, son, stepson… I miss seeing many of those prints - but through photo, video,good ole recollections embedded in the brain, and their tracks - I will never forget.

Some, in nursing homes, only have memories of their prints and no hope of again making their own… some, only make lines in the sand as they motivate their wheelchairs…

I turn around frequently to ‘see’ the old prints that ain’t around any more…. Conjures up smiles, memories, and a giggle as some members of our family perhaps didn’t have the prettiest of feet to make prints! (Sorry dad!)….

So, here’s to choosing to smile the resta the way whilst we’re still able to make footprints… Tides, weather, new friends, old friends, spats, choices, much - affects the patterns of our prints.. Nothing can take away our smiles though.. Even if we’re on our back in a home… making lines… or taking shorter steps, partnerless in the sand…

So…. Don’t kick sand in one’s face… don’t be a sand crab… be happy there’s sand in your shoes.. Look at the footprint on the carpet with a smile - as it’s a memory, and thankfully that memory is in the now…

Keep on printin’… love, Victurd

Filler....

American Heritage Dictionary defines this as “Something added to augment weight or size or fill space.”

I ain’t no gourmet, but when I thinka fillers I think of cooking… or making the damn products.. Like hot dogs… Or Meatloaf… Soy… Oatmeal… Cereal… Flour.. Fillers….

“Fill Space”… ain’t that the same as “killing time until the good part gets here”? Filler, ’tweener’, “in the meantime”, “until then”… all that shit is today. I’ma fillin’ space until the good shit gets here. Whomever that is, whenever that is.

A ’filler’ lifestyle ain’ta bad lifestyle… it can come with smiles… good times… economic “yeahs”.. selfish times… happy tears… love of family… etc, etc, etc. And I DON'T mean women are fillers - as in "I'll be with this one just for fun... as a filler." No. Who knows how our emotions are controlled - but I never enter a relationship with the thought of 'filler'.


I wants the main entrée… the meat o’ the matter… her. Is that stupid? Am I dying/struggling/treading water/”oh woah is me” until she gets here? Not no’s but hells no’s…

But, ain’t it Ok to hope, dream, envision the meatiest, juiciest, scrumptious hunka steak you’ve ever devoured? (And I REALLY don’t mean that in a piggish manner… I mean it in a “I can’t wait to hookup my eyeballs with you” manner.)

The Royals game the other night… ‘tween innings, they had the “Kiss Cam” where unsuspecting couples were hunkered in on the JumboTron and were coerced to kiss in fronta the crowd…. The Hot Dog, Relish, Mustard race… Slugger shooting hot dogs into the stands… Dance contests between two snotnoses… and great plays from This Week In Baseball… fillers….

Those of us who aren’t blessed with Tivo, are sequestered to ads featuring the two Sonic guys, that Carlton guy who got rich on Real Estate, super gizmos to give us washboard abs, and ‘teasers’ for the local news…. Fillers….

A night at the movie… Start time 7:15pm… which is fancy for 20 minutes of filler (previews, ads, etc) before the Big Show….

Passin’ time. Filler. “It’s 4pm, I’ve gotta be at church at 8... Ok, so I can watch Oprah, clean the damn litter box out.. Go vacuum the car… mebbe spend 20 minutes on the treadmill… read chapter 12 of that novel on the nightstand… take a nice, hot bath… call so-and-so… Send a few emails… filler… the filler of our lives…

The best meala my life was in Las Vegas. I was with my boss (yes, the same feller that is now monitoring my GD internet usage).. I’d asked a fella on the street “hey, what’s that fancy white and golden trimmed casino over there?”… “Why son, that’s the Golden Nugget. There ain’t no sign, cause the original owner thought ‘if you didn’t know what it was, then you don’t belong in there’ “… Shit, I butchered that one… But we went… and I had the most scrumptious steak I’d ever had in my life.. The waiter lived at our table.. It was well over $100 for two.. (Remember, I’m fine with a Peanut Butter sandwhich)… this was heaven…

That’s what I await.. Heaven… If it don’t happen here.. Maybe it will up there… as long as I behave during this ‘filler’…

May your days be filled with (oh shit, there’s that word) smiles… good times… laughter that does strange things to your body… happiness… an eye for the ‘good’… an appreciation of the minute… and joy…

Ghost writer here… Fillin’ in for Victurd. Love.

I've wondered.........

Last night, after going to the Royals game, I spent hours going here and there on my resuscitated internet. Thus, tonight I was one tired SOB when I got home. Napped. And napped s’more. Woke up and it had that half light - half dark look. Briefly confused, I wondered with the sun was rising or setting. Wonder it’s like to live in Alaska in virtual total darkness for six months a year… Or to wakeup to bright daylight at 2am…

Why I’ve winked at ladies on Match.com when I ain’ta member and there is 100% chance of a hookup.

When doggies get ‘stuck’… you know… bassackwards… is it still considered “doggy style”? What’s more.. Doesn’t that shit hurt?

That stat we read… that 50% of the people on the planet have never spoken on the phone. If one was placed by them… and it started ringing… I wonder what they’d say when they answered it? I wonder how long it’d take before they learned jealousy and checking their mate’s call log?

If I worked in a company IT department and was asked to monitor/pass on to management intra-employee emails. I don’t think I’d do it. We had a new guy at work that quit when he was asked to do so. I admired him. I wonder who checks emails the IT people send?

What a pelican was doing flying over work recently..

How Trent Green can make over $7 million a year and think he’s being treated unfairly. FYI, that’s $134,615.38 per week (and he hasn’t had to report for work since December 17, 2006.) I wonder if Carl somehow has tapped into Trent’s email?

I wonder what it’s like to go thru life with no real friends. Thank God for mine.

I wonder what minnows feed on? I wonder, if at birth, when they find out they’re a minnow - do they say “Oh shit… why me?” (Speakinowhich, can worms get worms?)

So I hear fingernails and hair keep growing after death. What about bald folks?

I wonder what happened to Halter Top day at the ballpark? For years I’d given it three thumbs up.

Whadda they call the file they use during a pedicure? (Think about it.)

What percent of blondes are fake blondes?

If a blonde died her hair brown, could she still have fun?

Are we more who we are due to environment, or genetics?

I got tired of Mash reruns… wonder if I’ll ever stop laughing at Frasier or Seinfeld?

Did you know… if you live in Missouri your entire criminal record is online? (Traffic tickets, divorces, etc., etc.) Uh huh. Go to http://www.courts.mo.gov/casenet/base/welcome.do and click litigant name search and have fun! Do you Kansans have sucha critter Catom?

Oh I wonder wonder wonder wonder WHO… who wrote the book of love.

Whadda you wonder about? Happy TGIF… may your weekend be filled with sunshine and smiley faces! Love, Victurd.

(Internet) "License and registration please"

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Pickmeups.......

Life is fleeting, that we’ve deemed. Pick me ups are a fun topics… There are times in one’s life where we liken a nail being pounded into the ground.. then allofasudden – someone/something turns that claw hammer over – yep, a pickmeup…

Animals are pickmeups… When it’s mundane at home – for sure – within a few minutes our dogs or cats will do something to light our eyes…

Pick – me. Pick – me –up! Kinda nifty words when you break it down… We all enjoy being ‘picked’.. We all enjoy ‘up’… Pickmeup.

Emails are pickmeups… Doesn’t have to be long (Victor I hope you’re talking to yourself because you sometimes take four paragraphs to say ONE thing!).. yeah mebbe.. it’s my passion I guess..

Smiles… Waives… Songs… An eyes glued TV show…

Coffee… for some, a cig (I know I know… the two aforementioned ain’t good for you)… well then hell, let’s add an occasional beer…

A child’s giggle… Seeing a beautiful person (either externally or internally)… Getting a compliment.. GIVING a compliment… pickmeups…

After a World Series whadda they do? Yes, I know they say they’re going to Disneyworld – but they pickup someone… Relief pitchers “pickup” the starter… Pinch hitters “pickup” the pace… Role modeling, when favorable – can be a huge pickmeup..

You know – and I know those around who can best sense one’s need of a pickmeup… I’d like to think I can sense when my son needs one… There are those around at work who can sense if I’m ever in need a pickmeup…

There’s lots to hang our hats on as far as pickmeups…. This is a blessed world.. Sad are those that can’t be picked up – and have gone past enjoying the incredible things around us…

Laughter is a HUGE pickmeup… A wink… Sticking your hand out to receive your friends – either a shake, a high five, or the knuckle knock done nowadays…

Reading can be a pickmeup… Sewing.. Cooking… Any kinda hobby… Going to a sporting event… A movie… A walk out in nature… The birds.. Seeing a deer… Sweat from 30 minutes on the elliptical machine thingamabob is a pickmeup…

Partners can be pickmeups… Friends… Relatives.. Believe it or not, even bosses..

There are so so many things in the world we should allow to pick us up… mebbe sometimes just stopping to think and remind ourselves so is a pickmeup..

Ok, on to start the work day… I hope this Egg McMuffin doesn’t make it impossible for someone to someday pickmeup! (I think I’ll be ok though… light is my beer of choice…) Enjoy those things that pick you up.. Pickup a friend.. Wing an email… Dial ‘em up… Waive at ‘em.. Smile at ‘em.. Hell, go pinch a butt.. Maybe this pickmeup stuff can rub off and we’ll have a world fulla pickmeuppers… Why not?!!!

If anyone’s here, you’ve provided me with a pickmeup! Thanks! Love, Victurd.

I've noticed.........

War is associated with death….

Guns kill.

Marriage, when at least one of the partners takes for granted, usually ends…

Marriage, when there is love and compromise, can’t be severed.

Bulldozers (and the developers who hire them) have zero regard for wildlife…

When people get angry, they say things they might not mean.

When people get angry, they sometimes hit.

When people get angry, and guns and knives are nearby, they sometimes use them.

When people kiss, sometimes they say things they might not mean.

When people kiss, sometimes they say things they really mean.

When a nice deed is done, it is usually appreciated…

When one gives a smile, most cases you get one in return.…

The first, and the last 30 seconds of a phone call to/from someone ya ain’t talked to in awhile are heavenly….

Pictures from yesteryear evoke fond memories…

We don’t dig out pictures from yesteryear often enough.

Some people have children, then don’t want ‘em

Some people have children, then sacrifice much in their own lives to show their love to their children.

Finding a relationship is tough, keeping it together is even tougher.

Atlas’s aren’t written for old people..

The outside lane at McDonalds is generally quicker…

If you lend a friend a dollar, forget about it.

If you borrow a dollar from a friend, it’s ok to worry until paid back.

It’s never Ok to worry alone.

Jealousy kills a relationship.

It’s Ok to sing (LOUDLY) if there are no passengers in your car.

Every moment spent bitter is a lost happy moment.

Don’t head out (Without peeing) on a thirty minute drive if you’ve just had a cup of coffee or a coke.

Beer can REALLY influence blog-writing.

Beer can REALLY influence the attractiveness of the opposite sex.

Canoeing tough rivers means not having both oars in the water.

Long lists put people to sleep.

Sleep is a good thing.

It would be nice if we could learn “how to have a personality” from dogs.

A Volkswagon will definitely float, but it won’t float indefinitely…

People that constantly smile are generally good, genuine people…

People that talk about others when that person ain’t in your presence will additionally talk about you when you ain’t either.

In general, the higher up one is in their position at work, the less they care about those under them.

Many, in foot-soldier positions at work, would do anything to help you, and not want any recognition for doing so.

Sex is probably the weirdest aspect of our lives, and one of the most wonderful ones too.

Casino’s, while you’re in them, are fun. Lotsa times the walk to your car (or hotel) ain’t.

I’d like to have a cat’s schedule and a dog’s personality, loyalty.

Bridges can be burned.

With family, bridges can be set on fire, but never burned completely.

Most generally, I’m more productive at work if I get to sleep by 11pm.

Night all. Love, Victurd.

Like sands thru the hourglass....

Ya gotta appreciate old folks….. Old folks is relative - ‘pending on how old you are yourself… A bit ago at work, a nifty young gal talked about admonishing her boyfriend because he’d gotten into to a physical tiff with an “elderly gentleman”… Elderly turned out to be “50-ish.”

I think all the time about “what ever happened to so-and-so?”… Tooka drive today… It’s Sunday.. That’s what Sundays are for… but again, at $3.29/gallon, it was a short drive… If you’re in my age range (54) - the parents of friends are becoming less and less populated on our planet. Teachers, town-eccentrics, entrepreneurs, the ole mailman, many - are no longer in sight… Sad… Life. Thoughts like this, yes while sad, again - make one suckup and appreciate every waking day/hour/minute… I drove past one of my old boss's house, and onea my old coach's house. Shoulda stopped. Didn't - but they'll never ever leave my brain.

Watching TV the other night… lo and behold Jack Lallane comes on (age 90-something) WITH his wife… STILL looking like he could literally beat the watoosie outta me… I’d read at age 70 (once again handcuffed and shackled) Jack fought strong winds and currents as he swam 1.5 miles while towing 70 boats with 70 people from the Queens Way Bridge in the Long Beach Harbor to the Queen Mary.. I remember eons ago as a kid watching my mother exercise to his TV exercise show - he was doing facial exercises… I laughed and said “Hey, he looks JUST like a monkey” and I’ll be durned if not the very next second he exclaimed “Hey kid, did you just call me a monkey?” No wonder, he’s got super human talents!

Aging is special - as are the aged. Friend I just met online - had some admitted difficulties growing up with her father - now says “at 89, he’s the smartest man I know - I don’t know what I’ll do when he's gone."

I hope my cousin doesn’t shoot me.. But copying a recent email from her regarding her 89 yr old mother (my aunt): “I talked to my mom this afternoon, and she said she'd decided it was time for a change. So, she dug out all the landscaping in the front of her house (how ,I can't imagine as most has been there for the life of the house), then went to a nursery to pick out some new stuff. She wanted to know what I thought. I told her I thought she was nuts digging all that up, and her answer was, "I mean about the shrubs I've chosen. I knew what you'd say about the other; that's why I told you after I did it." She also said she thought she might sleep well tonight.”

And anudder, in response to the above, from yet another cousin on her 86 year old mother: “I asked her the other night at dinner in a restaurant, with the waitress at our table, if Daddy had every told her "no" to something she said she wanted. Her reply, after thinking a bit................."yes, SEX". I have my doubts on that one, but it was funny.”

And finally my own added diddie regarding my own father, I think 77 at the time: “I'd like to share one about my pa... As his Parkinsons progressed - it was getting more and more difficult for him to get up out of a chair - and back down into it... thus... we got him one of those "lift" chairs... The representative from the manufacturer accompanied delivery of the chair to dad's house... gave a 30-40 minute demonstration on the buttons, features - let dad try it a few times... it really DID make it easier for him....

One of the very last features the rep pointed out... "Oh, and it comes with a massager.."

With absolutely no hesitation, dad asked "Does she spend the night?"

I, with baited anticipation of “can’t wait” paybacks - longingly look forward to my hoped geriatric years. We all could learn/help/be rewarding AND rewarded by: If ya ain’t seen an older person that touched your life and you know they’re still here - find ‘em. Write ‘em. Call ‘em.

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

Patterns.....

We buy clothing due to patterns… We put up wallpaper & border - and grow accustomed to the patterns… We learn our friendly way around town - knowing the shortest pattern to best motivate our way based upon $3.29 a GD gallon..

Seena email the other day… where there was a pattern of capital I’s - oh, mebbe twenty across, and then down damn near to eternity… All you saw was the same pattern… Somewhere hidden, there was the number 1 and you had to pick it out amongst the pattern.. And so on and so forth with similar letters, numbers.. We grew used to the pattern - and it was hard to distinguish the interruptions….

We become patterned to our work… our route to/fro… our weekly paycheck… same “hello’s”, “what’d ya do this weekend?” - the pattern of the actual work we do - where we put things on our desk (screw those of you who know me/work with me - it may not look like “order” but I know where every damn thing is there!

We sing in the car patterning ourselves after the singer on the radio - and are thankful we don’t car pool…

We become patterned in our families/relationships…

I’ve grown accustomed to her face…
She almost makes the day begin
I've grown accustomed to the tune she whistles night and noon
Her smiles, her frowns, her ups, her downs

Even though we don’t know whatinthehell to do once a crying infant comes from the womb - we soon become accustomed to this creature and it’s natural… the way… the pattern…

We go bonkers if life’s patterns are upset. “Whointhehell took my stapler and didn’t put it back on my desk?”… “SHIT! This wallpaper border is three inches short of finishing the GD project - I’ve gots to have my entire pattern!”…

“WHAT? She’d worked here twenty years and they told her when she drove up Monday at 8am - ‘Sorry…that’s it’ ?”… “My kid’s gone to college…. I’ve no one to watch over, to nurture, to feed.”…

“Hey Ralph?”… Yes Victor? “Seen my wife?”… Ahm.. Well-a.. and-a.. yes… she rode off on a Harley.”

Disruption of patterns happen. Sometimes we handle it well, sometimes we don’t. Stupid little stuff - like having an empty nest - always having the nice bar of soap in the soap holder in the tub --- having empty nest “re-filled”… jumping in the tub.. And the GD bar of soap is now by the sink… 7 feet away.

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See how disrupting that “1” is to the pattern? We wanna fix it.. Get it back to normal.. Restore order.. We become frustrated when life’s patterns change… It’s like we’ve got a nail in our shoe - we try to turn this way - can’t - try to turn that way - huh uh. Where do I go and how do I get there?

Then… after awhile.. That becomes pattern - and we’re accustomed once again.

Insteada painting fancy roller coasters all orange… they oughta paint different patterns for the ups.. And different patterns for the downs…

Momma always said the secret to success is how you deal with Plan B. You couldn’t make it in the Major Leagues as a pitcher if you couldn’t throw a curve.

We adjust. We grow - perhaps after some initial sinking. We either find our stapler or get another. We buy additional bars of soap so we can have one in the tub and one by the sink. Occasionally, we change the wallpaper. Patterns change, we adjust.

Life’s all about patterns and change. I don’t have pat answers - but I do dream of tomorrow’s patterns… I am thankful for past patterns.. I love to smile in today’s pattern.

Here’s wishin’ everyone the best of luck in ‘same’ and in ‘change.’ Whichever version we’re in - we’re all pretty fortunate.. Life is good. Loveya, Victurd.

Vroom vroom....

Not all that long ago, I'd plan things… an event.. a party… an activity… a group thingamabob - and almost every time I was met with (uh huh, her) the verbage "Victor… not everyone gets as excited about stuff like that as you do."…. Eh, Ok, I'll buy that, I guess…"So what say we just go out, find a bonfire and piss on it? Deal?"

A bit ago, I organized (or tried) to have an employee bowling night out… Up until "a minute ago" at work, we got this daily hideous schoolhouse announcement "Good morning employees, it's now 8 o'clock." A few years back, I'd planned onea those events that "not everyone gets as excited about" - a trip to the Woodlands…. A greyhound track… Insteada the 8am-"I hate this-GD-I can read the clock" announcement --- I found the wav file for "Heeeeeeerrrrrrrrreeeee Commmmmmmessssss Woooooooooooody!!!!" ß the announcement they make at the start of the doggie race. It was silly. It was fun… It wasn't "good morning employees (Please put your Spiderman lunchboxes in the fridge.. Don't forget no running in the halls.. And homework is due when we announce "good afternoon employees [students] it's now 5pm").. it was light.. And liked.

So, I asked for permission to make a bowling announcement. Not granted. Fun, apparently, it not legal. Victor, you're bitching and moaning again. I know, they earned it!

So I made flyers (shortly after - u know me - I winged an email at the decision maker behind the "not granted" involving the words "boo hiss") and plastered them suckers (the flyers) behind every copy machine, scanner, coffee pot, etc.

We had a decent number sign up… but as the day grew nearer, more and more backed out - and all with legit reasons... Six lanes reserved ended up being actually 3 too many.. But that's Ok… Those of us attending - had fun…

We dranka beer, talked about "certain assholes", painted likeness's of them on the headpins (Ok, I embellished some there) - and those of us that 'showed' - had a nice time…

After, we forked over $7 apiece to ride the gokarts at this joint…. (Word to wise: always watch race just aheada you and see which cart is the fastest… jump in line first for the next race… RUN to the fastest car… JUMP in before anyone else is… and then the next morning ask one's self "whyinthefuck did you, the 54 yr old, actually try to leap into that six inches off the ground vehicle when you have no cartilage in your knees, you've previously broken almost every bone you have, and you're dog-tired from bowling four games and bending over like you ain't bent over in the last 12 years?" Because I like winning, that's why!

And I did… but it was the cart… Jana was one tough hombre to pass, but once I got around her (she was the best tactical driver) it was clear sailing to the finish line.

So… I think everyone that came had fun. (Nanny nanny boo boo "Victor… not everyone gets as excited about stuff like that as you do.")…

Ideas popped out from all about "whadda we gonna do next time?"… We need morea that shit… Dunno how your work is.. If there's anything similar organized… I just think there's a need to be together in non-work/non-stress conditions…

No, it wasn't the most incredible evening ever... but it was good... nice... a different take from the every day mundane...

If you're reading this, you work where we work - and you didn't come… we'd love for you to the next time… Just keep your ass outta the #10 Go Kart. Hear? Love, the reigning Ben, Adam, Hoss, Little Joe - Go Kart champ, Victurd.

Much ado about nothing....

I’m an idiot (but you knew that)… As I sat down to write this, I didn’t/don’t have one iota of an idea on whatinthehell I’m gonna write about… so be prepared!

Laundrymat Saturday. Yes, I was there. I have 7, count ‘em, 7 “dead” washers and dryers in the basement - it’s getting a tad bit crowded so I’ve decided to qo to “quarter mania land” instead.

Anyways… I’d plopped my clothes in the washer (My idea of sortation for four loads is: 2 plastic trash bags fulla clothes… the top ½ of one in the first washer… the rest in the second washer.. And so on…

So……… I had 20-some minutes to smoke cigs - and just enjoy the day.. And the days here have been wonderful… If you happen upon this 30 years from now, it’s been 70-80 damn near every day, pleasant as hell… no sweat… no high electric bills… no high gas bills… well, that is if you have gas hooked up…

Next door to Mr. Goodcents.. Young feller (with 2 yr old little gal toddler) exits Mr. Goodcents and goes to his car… starts strapping her in on the passenger side of the car. Another feller exits Mr. Goodcents… and his car happens to be next to toddler car. He can’t get in driver’s side because dad has door open, is bending over taking great caution to get his little gal strapped in safely.

I happen to briefly know the feller who is now waiting for the dad to get the kid in. (CJ/Gracie, if you’re still here - I think it was Joleen’s husband.) This man - and you hear this all the time - is one of the nicest people I’ve ever met in my life, truly. You couldn’t excite him, you couldn’t shake him - he’s nice. Very nice.

So he’s waiting on dad to close the door…. Standing in the same spot waiting… this goes on for some time.. When one waits, they say every minute is like 3. I’ve seen people wanting to start fistfights at McDonalds… At the Royals game the other night - they had roughly 10,000 people walk up (without buying tickets) and they simply didn’t have the help to accommodate them… (Which leads to the question “whyinthefuck would 10,000 idiots be busting down the doors to see a 14-27 team?”)… More than half of them walked away and pissed away their $9 parking they’d paid.

Soooo… Mr. Nice guy is waiting… Dad doesn’t see him… It’s getting uncomfy to watch… I can see the possibilities of others - like say pretend the dad finally sees the dude waiting and says “hey, I’m sorry” and the person sticks nose in air, huffs… and walks to car without a word. Or… some might even say something… (Maybe the mood I was in two days ago I woulda!)..

Anyways… the father finally catches sight of the guy waiting for him to close the door… backs up… apologizes and says “Oh sir, I’m sorry.”

Drum roll….

How do we respond in life? Remember the other day we talked about saying a little prayer in that millisecond where could respond by lashing out/saying something ugly?

Well… the man I think a whole lot of… he smiles… says… “Hey… it’s ok.. What a beautiful daughter you have.”

I really fucking liked that. It was a simple life moment. Mr. Nice Guy teaches us how to react. It’s a choice. What ended beautiful coulda really been ugly.

If you see similar events - holler at me wouldya? Ok. After I’ve been a complete ass in a couple of blogs of late… I finally listened to my own damn suggestions… I went to the favorite joint of mine for lunch (they serve breakfast anytime…cheap… I love it)… I’d never seen the cashier before… 70-something.. As I handed her my money she popped open the most incredible baby blues I’ve seen in some time. “Have you ever heard ‘beautiful eyes’? “Well, “ she smiled, “maybe a time or two.” I was happy, she was happy. It was a feel good… for each.

I love nice life events. Let’s jump in ‘em. Love, Victurd.

I was gonna erase yesterdays.....

But it’s me… up/down… topsy/turvy… good stuff/not so good stuff… yummy/yucky… Hell yeah/no no’s but hells no’s…

Sorry. Pity parties happen – and I shouldn’t share/lean/exspouse – but I do, did, so there!

I love my buddies though… truly… one (very nicely) said something like “well you kinda let things go” (as in I’m deserving) – and that’s nailing it on the head!… another simply said “are you in a better mood today?” Hehe. Nuff said!

OK OK OK, so I promise to LIKE life… I do hereby promise to watch for an awesome butt as long as I live… I promise to enjoy the smells of vanilla, freshly cut grass, Christmas trees – puppy breath…

I promise to shake my world/attitude back into reality/perspective when I see one less fortunate than I… and I already have since the PP of yesterday…

I promise to crank my radio up over the noise of checkenginelight if somethings digs deep inside the soul of this ole bod…

I promise to think about how lucky we are when I hear the Star’s Spangled Banner play…

I’ll eat chocolate. Have BBQ ribs. Find someone, somewhere – to simply enjoy a nice kiss with…

I’ll appreciate every smile I’m given – regardless if winged at me from short/tall, old/young, pretty/ugly/uglier/ugliest…

I’ll love gardens, even if freshly plowed and just beginning… I’ll think of Greensburg, KS and appreciate my leaky roof – at least I’ve got a roof…

I’ll look at my paycheck – and remember those trying to feed families on minimum wage… I’ll wing an email – get nothing in return – and understand – they had some reason not to reply – so I’m ok with that…

I’ll be in awe of other’s passion – for anything… I’ll notice creativity… I’ll go by the nursery next time I visit the hospital… I’ll go by the cemetery and smile at the memories..

Life… is good. When things cave in again – I promise to work on my arm strength in the meantime so I’ll be better equipped to fend that off… and I’ll work on what’s above my neckline too… life is all about working to improve ourselves…

And…. Upon occasion… I’ll still sit and enjoy a beer. When ya can’t be with the one you love – love the one you’re with… and I’m with me.. so I promise to remember I love me… and I reckon I do… hope u love u too! Love, Victurd.

Life's stressors....

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The Fork in the Road....

Home from work… went to see niece in hospital… had grabbed a paira shorts and t-shirt in case I still had the oomph to go to the Community Center and workout…. I am probably the only person on the planet who, in past times, has gone to a gym JUST to sit in the sauna… Dunno what it is about ‘em, I love ‘em… I thought about that as I sat in it… I’ve always ‘wanted’ one… People die having wants they never captured…. No, I ain’t running to wherever you buy a sauna to buy one - just a little perspective realization… Now wherethehell was I?

Oh yeah… So I worked out… Actually did 30 minutes straight on the elliptical machine.. (Dear young shits, don’t ever do work where you work on your knees… carpet-layer… concrete pourer/smoother… GD heavy Asian suitcase thrower… you can’t do the treadmill/run when you get older ‘cause the GD knees just ain’t what they usedta be.)… Now wherethehell was I?

Oh yeah… I worked out… Last time I worked out I had “Ms January” on my left… and “Ms. April” on my right.. Makes it a tad bit easier to go to the gym… Not so lucky tonight… I had “Mr. I’myouragebutalittlefatter” on my left and “Mr. Keepupwithmeyouoldwhippersnapperifyoucan” on my right. So, I watched the basketball game that was on TV, and before I knew it… buzzzzzzz… 30 minutes…. To the sauna.. Ahhhh, yessssss…. Now wherethehell was I?

Oh yeah… driving down the road.. My mind was somewhere… I ain’t real sure… maybe still on the “want” thing… I think too I was dreaming and had sold my house - like that’s gonna happen soon - so.. I was definitely in La La Land…. That’s where I was, in La La Land…

I’m going down a two lane road (each way) that turns into one lane… and there’s two, count ‘em, two lefts.. (a quick one and one a few yards further)… I spazzed out… wondered “Now whereinthehell was I?” Ina millisecond - this road, this road I’ve been down many times… my options ran thru my head… STRAIGHT - was to the college I went to… Oh the memories… My mother worked there.. I coulda gone free straight outta HS… didn’t… at age 18 (Ok dammit, I was actually 17 when I graduated… they sent me to kiddygarten at age 4, I musta been a helllion) - at age 18 who wants to run into their mom on campus?… so I went to two other colleges… 1.95 first semester at Maryville (I hada girlfriend back home, my excuse).. Then to Jr College (Skipped class almost every day and hung out at the Student Union DURING class time… results were: 2.00 GPA, but, won ping pong and pool championship.. I became seasoned at both!)… THEN, I finally went to the college where my mother worked… and I loved it…. VERY much… I am a hardheaded idiot… Now wherethehellwas I?

Oh yeah… straight to the college.. Or 2nd left to where I grew up…. Oh baby… whadda house.. No, we weren’t uppity, but that 3 story turna the century had so many hiding places the entire 53 man roster of the Kansas City Chiefs coulda hidden in there and you’da never found ‘em… and just the area, the neighborhood… The best… Now wherethehellwas I?

Oh yeah… Straight - to college…. 2nd left - back ‘home’… No.. I was taking the first left… uh huh, the way to get to my little hangout, The Corner Bar… This, in a nutshell, has been the “progression” of my life.. I was sad when I took the turn… and I sadly giggled aloud as I remembered where I was going - and this whole GD blog idea went thru my head in that millisecond…

Rationalizing, I see people I know there, I can talk to them… (BUT VICTOR, howabout
Church? Or, the Lions Club?… Sertoma?… Bowling even?) BUT I DO BOWL.. Oh, Ok, it’s a computerized bowling game - still fun…

I can’t stand to sit at home… I do go to gym… I do go to visit friends… I do go see relatives… I do work overtime… I do go browse WalMart… but too, I go to my friendly little bar…

It’s not really a ‘want’ in my life… but somehow, some days… at this point.. It fits… Now whereinthehell are you in life? Love, love, love…. Love is all you need… Love, Victurd.

Mother's Day thoughts.....

She was the intermediary between her kid’s accidents and the Emergency Room (or Dr’s office.)… She held her breath when we coughed, only to breathe again when she knew we had…

She could cook anything, and fast.. She somehow knew just was meal we were in the mood for… She managed meals around sport’s practices, play rehersals, fathers sales trips…

She was the wardrobe director… the psychologist… the adviser… the “in our corner” one… the cheerleader… the one who knew our business, but didn’t hover or smother in it…

The songstress… The pianist… The cog to our family…

She was ‘mom’. The above could be written virtually about any mom. It’s about mine too. She rocked - I was lucky. While she’s gone, not a day goes by I don’t see her, hear her, miss her. I can only pray that the day will come we’re together again. Happy Mother’s Day…

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July 3, 1985... Up in the bin of an airplane (flight going to Seatte.. Those GD heavy/big Oriental suitcases) the message came “your wife’s water broke.. Why don’t you go on home.” I did. Fast.

Calmly she sat at the kitchen table when I sweated/barged/exclaimed my way inside… Visiting with beloved next door neighbor.. She is a tiny person - had a very rough birth with my stepson some 9 years earlier… Her father had very much urged against having another child…

Finally to the hospital.. All kindsa gizmos hooked up to her.. “Ahm.. When you start having contractions, we’re losing the heartbeat to your baby… we believe the umbilical cord may be wrapped around his neck… we’re doing and emergency C-Section…”

She handled life’s stressers in her own way, unbeknownst to most around her - but this time she couldn’t… This wasn’t about “her”… and certainly understandable she shook, worried and was quite frankly scared… Wonderful staff (and I think some kinda med) helped ease that…

Thirty minutes later was born a beautiful (yes, I’m biased) bouncing baby boy.

Thank you Marilyn, for that day - and the role you played in nurturing our son… I will forever be indebted and grateful… Happy Mother’s Day….

Standing out....

54 years old, and today was the very first dance recital I’ve ever been to… My great niece a participant… Now I don’t really understand dance recitals - but I think they were all from the same joint (literally hundreds of them) - and this was the live culmination to see how mommy and daddy’s dollars were well spent….

And… I think they were.. I hada blast - and it was real creative.. Probably 40 different dances… each with a different outfit… each with different characters…

Never failed. My eyeballs soon fixed on one from each group… Usually, it was the one that had the greatest smile, and was seemingly enjoying the hell outta what she was doing.. In retrospect, it also usually correlated to the one standing out as being the best dancer… Certainly the most spirited..

Life’s the same way… Think of high school - and who stood out… College? Your group of friends?… Co-workers? The ones that stand out are the happy ones..

Life must be taken on with passion. We can dull ourselves along the way in the back row outta the limelight - or we can get passionate - spread cheer osmotically… That shit rubs off, you bet…

Let’s makea pact… we’ll smile at strangers… hug loved ones… give a compliment to a kid… give a compliment to an elderly person… in crappy times where we have a choice on how to react - let’s pray for a millisecond before we consider a frown or a retort with harsh words.. We’ll retire in bed full knowing “we did it”… “it was a great day”…

Dance like everyone’s watching… Stand out… Love, Victurd.

Dial up Sam for me wouldya Sarah?

Oh the life of yesteryear… We might not all have the same background - and I hope you enjoyed your stomping grounds… but damn daddy has “my town” changed…

Oh the physical structure of the East sidea town has remained virtually the same…and every fourth trip to the Piggly Wiggly you’re stopped in an aisle to visit with an old “townie” - but progression has hit us…. “Don’t stand in the way of progress” I know I know. But ain’t it Ok to have an opine about it? Well, this opine is my new town sucks!

Victor, is this another bitch and moan blog? Eh mebbe… but it too is reminiscing about yesterday - and the beauty, simpleness of it all..

You’d wave at every other car from the one lane (each way) road… You could have an “account” at the grocery store… As a teenager, the taxi driver would take you both ways - and not pickup the check from mom (no ID needed) until when they returned you home on the 2nd legga the trip…

Teachers knew every student’s name in the whole school… students knew every student’s name in the whole school… You could whisper the words “party at Robert’s tonight” and by 7pm there’d be forty cars parked in front. And, of course, one mom would find out about it, and their whispering chain was just as fast as ours…

Ya let ur kids galavant across town on foot and didn’t think anything of it.. Houses actually had screen doors that were actually used.. A traffic jam meant ole’ Bittner was en route on his John Deere to mow on the West sidea town…

There were town characters - most striken mentally - but townsfolk treated them as royalty… A ‘text message’ was a folded note passed in deathly fear the teacher would catch you passing it..

Kids knew friend’s parents well… parent’s knew kid’s friends well… Everyone attended the high school football games… Everyone lined the streets for homecoming..

New neighbors got chocolate cookies… New kids in schools got “hey.. Welcome to Liberty.“ Church’s passed the hat for a member who was perhaps down and out… A fist fight was a fist fight… Being inside near the fan or the AC in the summer wasn’t fancied - it was out and about every day/night - and unorganized games were organized…

Families ate together. Families watched the favorite TV shows together.. You didn’t ‘text’ your mom to tell her you’d be late.. You called, took a big gulp, and explained (and apologized).

We hurried, but only to get out of the rain. The Johnson’s getting a visit by their cousins from Arkansas was fodder for the newspaper… You got a smile and a windshield wash with a tanka gas…

Dogs ran loose, and somehow we survived. My parents are gone now - and I hope I told my father thanks for landing where he landed us in 1961... Can you read blogs from heaven?

Tonight I took my son by the bank. He’d gotten a combined $92.33 from Uncle Sam, and from the State of Missouri. He’s 21, doesn’t have an account there, and they wouldn’t cash them. “Could you just deposit them in my account and I’ll pay him the cash?” No sir, we can’t do that. Russell, at the old Commercial bank woulda put his arm around my son, given him a cold bottle of Pepsi - and he’da had crisp new bills to handover.

No, I won’t stand in the way of “progression” - but doesn’t mean I have to like it. Call me an old fogey if you like… I kinda like the feel/sound of that.

Tonight, as I took the new Southern access 4-lane road into town - I was going about 45 MPH in a 45 MPH zone.. I saw two deer, a wild turkey, a gorgeous female jogger in red shorts, blue top, Boston Red Sox ballcap, admired how nicely mowed the Our Lady of Mercy yard looked.. And listened to all of Ray Charles “Tell me what I say.”

Sixteen cars passed me at speeds ranging from 50 to 60 miles per hour. They didn’t see nonea that shit. Must be new to my town.

Close your eyes often and think of yesteryear. Not all will ever fade - but memories do - so let’s help to preserve them. Happy happy, love, Victurd.

buenos días señor

Stolen - kinda sorta with permission (and paraphrased) from Mr. Chuck Shepherd's News of the Weird....

Jorge (21 yr old feller), early Sunday morning, drove his SUV into a creek in Decaur, Alabama... the vehicle was partially submerged, wouldn't budge.. and firefighters were called to rescue poor Jorge...

Jorge, literally up a creek without a paddle.. in true Cheech and Chong style, basically said "to hell with it"... cracked open another beer (and another, and another) whilst he waited for crews to rescue him... and cranked the music before the water creeped into his electrical system...

Ya kinda gotta like his style... and his "don't rain on my parade" disposition..

The vehicle was finally pulled.. poor Jorge was charged with a DUI, littering and other offenses... and whilst I don't recommend driving while intoxicated - at least he's got a story to tell years down the road...

Have a great weekend.. crack one for me... and crank the music... Love, Victurd.

Binges, waistlines and spandex...

I think I usedta be an athlete… I played every sport there was possible.. Even ran cross country in lieu of playing football for a couple of years when the doc wouldn’t pass me for football due to an enlarged testi.. (if you’re just reading this blog for the first time.. You’re gonna have to really dig to find that one!)..

I lived in the gym in college… was a bonified gym rat… I majored in PE… taught physical education… coached every damn sport there was possible for twenty years with my son and stepson… Played softball until I was 45.. I guess, bottomline, I love the human body in motion…

Then fitty-something hit… Somehow the thinking twists from “I can’t wait” to “Do I gotta?”…. No, you ain’t gotta… but then for every action (or lack thereof) there’s an equal and opposite reaction…

Lady at work… she can drive to Sonic… order ALL the “good shit” and get back to her desk faster than that one little chicky texted supercalifragilisticexpealadocious… It’s kinda sad really… For it, she’s extremely overweight.. Has trouble with steps… and assuredly has cut years off her life…

Why I took that turn to relate that I don’t know… but the truth about me is: I’m now a binge exercise person… I’m back in mid-binge… and that translates to going to our community center where a variety of offerings are afforded..

Indoor/outdoor pools.. A sauna.. A Jacuzzi…. Free weights… weight machines… treadmills.. Elliptical machines.. Steppers… Bikes… a basketball court.. And even a wonderful theater..

Been goin’ before work… Ain’t pushed myself too much.. But..The hardest part I’ve found is simply getting out my front door… So far so good.. But remember, I said that same shit in January… 2007 Binge I…

What I love about the Community Center: Spandex.. Women bouncing.. Women hard bodies… the feel of success after finally making it 30 minutes on the elliptical… what I look like in the mirror if I keep this shit up for 90 days… the excitement of the eyes in the kids at the pool… looking at their moms (sorry, remember, all men are pigs)..

Finishing that last set of reps on the weight machines.. The hellyesIdon’twanttobeanywhereelseonEarth feel of the sauna.. Throwing water on it (to add an S to that long word and make it and Urban dictionary word): hellSyesIdon’twanttobeanywhereelseonEarth..

What I don’t like about the Community Center: I abhor the locker rooms. There’s a sign outsidea the front of the men’s room indicating “no female children over the age of five permitted”… I can’t believe grown men get naked in there in the first place.. And they do… and mosta the time it ain’t fucking pretty… and oft times there’s a 7 yr old boy, or a 12 yr old boy, or a 3 yr old boy there… and it’s like “THIS is normal?” I hate it. I always take my undies.. I always wear them to AND FROM the shower.. And I hate it if kids even see me in those. There’s nothing like bending over to tie one’s shoes only to be met by the brown eye of a 60 yr old man. Eww!

I don’t like the Schwarzenegger cocksuckers that look in the mirror, then down at themselves, then back in the mirror again. Envious? No. Slap me if I ever appear that vain.

All in all, it’s a pretty cool place… The good outweighs the bad… kinda like life… They say a good ole rounda sex is the equivalent of a 50 yard dash… since I ain’t been doing any sprinting of late, figured I oughta go back to the gym… It ain’t quite the same as a fitty yard dash… but reckon it’s a fairly productive alternative… Happy sprinting, love, Victurd.

Raindrops on roses....

I ain’t real sure what I think of rain…

Oh I know we need it… reckon it’s kinda like anything else in life.. too much or too little can be hazardous…

The 6 inches we got a few days ago is threatening levies… water up to the tippy top… Roofers and water pump sale’s reps dreams…

I remember rain in Hawaii. It was like “who cares?” Sunny, pleasant – actually felt kinda good and usually only lasted minutes. A gift perhaps, from heaven..

I remember working for an airline chucking suitcases… didn’t mind the cold (you could prepare).. didn’t mind the snow (things are just a little slower).. actually loved the heat (sweatin’ my watoosies off). but working in rain SUCKS. You can’t escape. The rotten little bastards that never ever got up in the airplane to load on their knees (the tough job) allofasudden now eagerly hop up in there to get away from the rain. I guess it was worth it to stay on the ground getting drenched just to ‘say’ I ain’t that kinda person. (And the wimps were few and far between, and we usually had fun scheming retaliation anyways!).

Sitting in a screened in porch right next to – but sheltered from the rain is auditory orgasm.

Don’t rain on my parade. Rainy days and Mondays always get me down. Rain rain go away – come back another day.

Rain is windshield wipers, treacherous footing, muddy clothes, drink, rivers, streams, waterfalls, oceans… life.

Camping in the rain can be nice… I learned early “don’t touch the tent, for if you do you’ll be sorry.”

Rain and baseball don’t mix, but the words “Play Ball” after a rain delay highlighted by a rainbow can be heavenly.

Rain is covered heads, shrinking clothing, the chills, shivering, goose bumps…

Rain comes from the heavens… they’re reminding us they’re there. Reminding us to remember to enjoy each and every day, drop. Quenching us. Assisting us in survival.

I guess bottomline I do like rain. It’s even better than a wet t-shirt contest - the 'goody-goods' are 'entrants' even. May your day be saturated with pleasure, happiness.. and tis my hope you have a thirst for life… drink it all up… and treasure it as it goes down… love, Victurd..

The evil that lurks within..........

Regardless of whether one is in a relationship or not.... when ya work with someone... or are friends with someone... and AT LEAST one relationship (That you ain't involved in) is involved.. upon occasion there is this hushed "GD I'd like to rip her (or if you're chicky: his) clothes off and have a nice "oh baby oh baby".......

PLEASE don't tell me I'm nuts. What pushes some over the limit and it happens... versus me... the little wimpy fugger that won't/hasn't done that?

I've worked with those where I've felt that..... I've had friends where I've felt that... Hell.. I think (Ok, I know) I've had relatives (Inlaws) where I've felt that... and I never acted...

Please loan me your input... I'm certain, the answer, if you've "tested the waters" ain't a good outcome.. but am I a wierdo to have these/those thoughts?

Ok. I be good now. Love, Kuntaturd.

Rubber Match........

I don’t know why I’m here at 54 years of age talking about condoms, but, there’s a lot about life I ain’t figured out yet..

Which leads me to the old joke “Do you know what is printed at the end when you unroll a rubber all the way?”… “I don’t either.” It’s living hell being burdened with the dreaded shortpeckeritis.

Somewhere… New Zealand I think… A grandma inspected her g-kid’s Happy Meal from Mickey D’s prior to him grabbing it.. Uh huh, found a rubber…. Not certain if it was a Big Mac… but I understand they’ve brought in Ronald and Mayor McCheese for “fingerprinting“… Seena lotta changes in my lifetime, but never did I think Happy Meal toys would come to this.

Orange County, CA. Massage parlor raid by cops has them finding signs touting “Hello customers… so we can keep costs down.. It is recommended you utilize plastic wrap versus the parlor providing condoms…” Ewww.. I’ll never look at a cooked chicken breast in the fridge the same way again.

True Story… as old man swapped clothes from washer to dryer at public laundromat in Liberty - an unrolled condom fell from the messa clothes to the floor infronta no less than twelve eyes. Another Eww.. GD Maynard (son). Lucky bastard.

Again New Zealand. Dunno why they’re so popular with condom stories, but they is… They’ve developed a liquid spray on condom. Nice. So, y’aint gotta worry about S, M, L, XL. Form fitted. I can just see it now though as some old drunken hoot emerges into the bedroom and is met with “GD-it Ralph.. Put the WD40 up and git urass in bed.”

Nudder true one… stolen from internet:

I was home from school on Christmas break last year and I had an intimate night with my girlfriend at my family's house. After finishing, I disposed of the used condom in a tissue and threw it in the wastebasket.

Unbeknownst to me, our dog got into the wastebasket the next day, proudly walked into the living room, and laid the used condom on the floor in front of my father and stepmother. It was as if he had retrieved a toy and expected them to throw it so that he could show off once more. But, instead, my father took a hard look at it and said to my stepmother, "Well at least I know he's practicing safe sex."

I had absolutely no idea that this had happened until recently when we were reliving embarrassing moments at a family party. My stepmother told the story, confident that I had known the entire time.

Needless to say, I turned bright red.

I realize this is a pretty lame blog… but some days are lame ya know? Sorry, I usually try to come up with a catchy phrase at the end of this reservoir, but for some reason it ain't coming today… Happy happy, love, Victurd

My cornflakes had pee in 'em........

That’s a lie… Literally anyways… I much prefer Raisin Brain….

Bitch moan/bitch moan: I ain’t hada day off since April 15th, tax day… I’m old (thankful though I’ve been around this long.)… A big project at work was due a couple days ago, and due to unforeseen events, I struggled to finish up today. I think the exact words uttered to me were “that BETTER be done.” I felt like I was shooting a free throw complete with 7,200 maniacs behind the goal waiving their arms and yelling “you suck” all day at work…

Touchy, maybe I was touchy. Close your ears… maybe the closest thing to “that time” a man could ever have.

External events assisted……. Cold shower….. “GD did I forget to pay THAT bill?”… The neighbors glared at me as I hopped in my car due to the height of my lawn… Shortly after I got $20 outta the ATM this morning, it tweren’t the normal “computer printing sound” when the receipt/balance came out.. I swear to goodness it was Tickle Me Elmo laughing as it printed… On the road: GD, did I forget to make burgers outta that $6.74 wortha ground beef I bought Sunday? SHIT!“… At work: Ring-Ring… “Hi son… whatsup?”.. “Dad, did you see? It rained so much the ceiling is falling in.”… The Royals lost for the 843 time in a row…

All day whilst I worked on the “the Project” I had interupting email after email with this request/that request…. “did you get that email I sent asking for that rate?”… “That shipment that our agent in Hawaii goofed up… did it get shipped? When will it get to Exeter, NH?”…..

The only thing that coulda topped the day off woulda been a dental appointment. I hate dentists, but librarians run a close second. Good thing they don’t have tools - I’da been dead long ago. You would not believe how many times I’ve handed them my card and gotten “that look” over their specs…

Where was I? Orgasmining? No, that ain’t it… I was at work.. By now, if you’da walked up behind me and tapped me on the shoulder I’da screamed “WHATTTTTT?”..

Then, onea the main reasons I love going into work.. That person.. Said something really shitty to me on break.. A dig… About emails I send… I love sending emails… it’s a form of “touch”… all eyeballs on you… attention.. We all like attention…

FUCK! (Sorry.. I don’t say that in public much… but I do use to kinda sorta detail moods.)… So… All of the above has happened… it’s noonish… I’m still nose to the grindstone on “The Project”.. I don’t wanna talk to ANYONE… I maybe wouldn’t evena turned my head had Elisabeth Shue walked by nekkie…

Then I got an email from a very nice co-worker basically telling me “hey.. I’ve been there… I’m sorry you are… I hope things lighten up for you.. You’re usually such a jovial person.. And that’s so admirable. Things‘ll get better… soon!”

WHY’D she screw my pee in the Raisin Bran all up? So, I took a deep breath… gathered my thoughts… and then in the next 45 minutes: I shot the bitch that said something really shitty.. Finished The Project… Re-roofed my house.. Traded my car in for a 2001 Hummer.. Paid the gas bill (tipped the receptionist $10)… Mowed the front (and back)… Put “cold patch” on my roof, fixed the ceiling sheetrock.. (Sprayed the texture junk on it).. Bought 12 replacement hamburgers from Burger King… deposited a bi-weekly paycheck from March I forgot I had in my billfold… Bought a cell phone on the way home… called the dentist… had my teeth cleaned (someone had cancelled an appointment… actually didn’t hurt)… told Elisabeth “no thanks, you’re married.”

Or…………………… maybe………….

I worked a little overtime… swung by bar for one……. (Ok, three.. But only three)… bowled… and came to write a pity party blog.

You pick which you think happened.

I hate your guts. You’re always right! I loveya.. And I AM happy in life… today though the cereal really did have a urine odor to it.. Tomorrow I think I'll just go thru the drive thru and grab a sausage biscuit... that is.. if Elmo lets me.. Love, Victurd.

Uh oh....

I've followed with great interest - a couple (He 55, her 23) that set out 15 days ago to break the world record for continuous sailing around the globe. It's kinda interesting, and if you wanna follow, they're website (complete with blog/pics) is 1000days.net...

There's a tongue in cheek blog below (Patching the sails) about projecting how the trip will go... What's worse.. it got even worse.. from Sunday's blog:

"Last night we had a collision with a freighter vessel. No one was hurt and the boat is fine except the bowsprit is bent and now useless and we don't have a roller-furling unit or jib sheet. We are engaged in emergency repairs and more will follow soon."

Damn. Hope they're Ok... May you have a great week, no mast troubles (Dammit Victor) and smooth sailing.. love, Victurd..

The Elders

Some (at work probably) would say I talk too much... Ohhhhh but if they only knew the mega-flash thoughts that always jumble their way thru my brain but don't escape.....

The majority of folks I work with are younger.. Hell, the majority of folks on the planet are younger... I see twenty-somethings and I wanna shout out advice... I think the two primary bits of wisdom I'd give 20-somethings (Victor, who the F are you to give "bits of wisdom? You're car is held together who-knows-how, you're wallering in mortgage-hell, and you keep a girlfriend about as long as Kentucky Fried chicken stays good in the fridge.)... wow.. thanks for that input!

He (whoever that was) is right. But, ain't doin' it wrong a waya becoming an expert on how to do it right?

Ok, disregarding Mr. Parenthesis, a few things I'd tell a 20-something:

1) STICK a small amount away EVERY paycheck and STAY THE HELL AWAY FROM IT, no matter what.

2) Find employ with a solid company (favs might be govt, city, utility, or longterm-strong company) that have a decent retirement setup..

3) KNOW being 20-something is different than any age you will ever be... go.. run... jump.... do.. but most of all... REALIZE it when you are.. and appreciate it..

Then I thought... well... whereinthehell could I find 70-somethings that could tell me "Hey sonny, if I were 50 again and had it to do over... here's what I'd do..". or, "here's my advice on being 50".....

SO... I searched "70 YEAR OLD CHAT." You're laughing. I really did. I thought I'd get on their site... and ask... After I searched, I kinda laughed too...

What came up was "Hi - my husband and I are travelling with my 70 yr old mom - 8 days in Akumal. Mom is fairly active - does yoga, horseback rides (walk and trot) in the summer and walks the dog. Do you think she would be okay at Xelha? She loves swimming, but not snorkling - will there be enough for her to do/see? Thanks for your help. Roz" Some lady answered "we kinda had similar experience... my mom thought we were trying to drown her snorkeling.. heck, she got it down.. chaseda barracuda in Cozumel.. danced with a waiter at the bar in Playa... "Momma Cola" as they referred to her, sang with the musicians in Cozumel.. tell her to "let go", she'll have a great time."

Ok, not what I was looking for.. but gives me a tad bitta hope about eventually turning 70.. I could dance with musicians in Cozumel.. F-A-Ray!.

Next site was:.. "Treatment for 70 yr old with violent behavior?" "Can a person around 70 yrs old with bipolar be treated?"

Damn... that ain't 70-something chat..

Next up... "80 year old woman eats stones for 70 years"... ahm, no thanks...

Howabout "70 yr old Boston Marathoner Woman runs down 18 yr old liquor thief."

Dammit... I guess I'll just haveta go ask some 70-somethings in person... seems I ain't gonna hear excerpts on "how to prepare for 70.. how to live when you're 50" here....

I truly think there's alot to be learned from someone older.. Yes, we can feast our eyeballs on them and observe... but, it ain't the same as hearing it from them.
Whadda you think? Do you think it would piss someone off that was 70 if you walked up to them and asked "hey... knowing what you know now... are there any changes you woulda made in your life at age 50? Or.. howabout some things you did do then that you're happy now that you have?"... 'If you were 20 years younger, what's something you would do if you could do it allover again?"

and the kicker........ "What's it like being 70?"

We've got Kiwanas clubs, fitness clubs, Lions Clubs.. Golf clubs.. Women's clubs.. Bridge clubs.. Night clubs... 4-H clubs... Square dance clubs..

We have education for damn near everything... computers, science, medicine, English, physical education, economy, mathmatics, engineering, sociology, political science, philosophy, history,,,

we have bowling leagues, softball leagues, fantasy football leagues..

Nowhere do we talk/organize/assist with LIFE - and what to expect. Me thinks we oughta organize 20/40 clubs.. 30/50 clubs... 40/60 clubs... 50/70 clubs.. etc.. I truly think I'd love attending.. and learning... I've always been the finicky sort to take EVERYTHING in, and then remember/keep what I wanna... Life's about learning.. I think that'd be a cool way to learn...

Ok... I'm guessing some 70-something might tell me to "get in bed by 10 every night"... so on I go... Soooo, my advice for the 30-somethings.. findya some lady that can make that FAST transition to the reverse cowgi (VICTOR!!!)... ok dammit... but I do remember when I could move well...

Hope your weekend was cool.. and ya take a few memories from it....... Love, Victurd.....

See me... feel me... touch me...

Friday, 5pm. Pay day.. Checkenginelight heads out from work.. Red brake light on... Noise from strut or something underneath creaking as I pulled outta lot.. checkenginelight comes on... then goes off a mile or so down the road...

Cross the river... GD car and it's finickiness <-- dat a word? Bastard swerves off the road... but all is good... it happens to be just the very exit the casino is on.. (hehe)...

Take my little $12 coupon they give me weekly (because I've been so good to them in the past) to the window... met by a 40-something chick... standing behind her was a 50-something man... obviously training her... she completed the transaction in good time.. nervous I could tell.. had a smile... but her eyeballs never once made eye contact with me... I understood, she was so worried about the drawer, the computer, the feller inspecting from behind - she forgot to suckup the best parta the deal - that of business/patron and the wonderful gift from God of simply meeting another's eyeballs. Again, I understood..

Took my seat at the $5 blackjack table.. next to feller I'd sat by before... He's a non-stop talker/joker... the kind most wanna punchout.. but I kinda get a kick outta him... He's teasing the hell outta Heather, the 30-something dealer (with two kids ages: 13 yrs, and the other 7 weeks... She, readily attaches eyeballs to him, to me, and individually to each of the other 5 players at the table... All the while done with a smile - no extra charge... I love blackjack... It's a great place for us sometime introverts to walkup to a table of folks, sit down and have idle chit chat.. It can oft times be worth the pain of losing $40 bucks or so... They'd look at you like you're completely nuts if you walked up to a table of five and sat down at Applebees... here, it's the way... Introvert heaven.

The first beer always tastes the best... then I had another... then one more... then switched to coffee... by now I'm up $40... I've laughed numerous times at Mr. Talktoomuch... and I've gotta pee like a race horse.. Upon return - "did you see anything?" he says excitedly... We're close in age, we've discussed divorces before - so I knew just what he was asking... On this given night - I had seen plenty, but hadn't seen anything he was asking about.. Well.. a few I guess.. but they were too GD young for me...which is actually fancy for "he's too GD old for me." Men are pigs, oink..

And then it happened... The cashier hadn't eyed me, and she coulda... Heather the dealer was all about eyeballs and smiles... Mr. Loudmouth talked outta the sidea his mouth - produced smirks - and eyed every person at the table... everyone, except the intent Chinese feller playing 3rd base, people watched alst the while...

Gentleman, maybe 22, holding the arm of lady, probably same age... he very obviously without the gift of sight... Didn't keep him from plastering a wonderful smile across his face... and she shared his joy by flashing her own smile.... they sat at a table across from us... her chair back 3' from the table.. but she was the eyes and communication for his cards/the dealers cards... his lifeline... For a long moment in his life, he was regular... God Bless this lady.. for she assisted in making this happen... sacrificing her perhaps want of dropping twenty bucks in a slot... or maybe even just an aimless stroll around to people watch...

We take so much for granted... Sight is a huge one... Every waking moment we see... Imagine not being able to... ever.. It would be literal hell depending so much upon another... To look at those two - ya'd never know it though as their stay there was about as normal as normal could be...

I'm truly sorry this gentleman could not see.. I'm truly greatful he didn't emit that sorrow himself.. Would be easy to give up... yet so wonderful to go do... again, God Bless this lady - and the parents that raised her to be who she is..

When it came time to leave - I was down $20. So, discounting the $12 coupon, my night cost me $8. What an inexpensive evening to see such wonder - and to make me stop and realize just how lucky I am to participate healthily in this thing called life. GD (gosh darn) I hope my car starts.

Loveya, Victurd.

Patching the Sails.........

(The problem with blogs... is... they're chronologically listed from most recent to first... if you're here for the first time, it's gonna be kinda like starting to watch a soap opera in mid-season... we've been following the journey of Reid and Soanya, aka "the professor and MaryAnne"... 12 days ago they set out in a 70' schooner to attempt a world record 1,000 continuous day non-stop sail around the globe (thrice).. the current world record is 600+ days... Oh yeah, Reid is 55, Soanya is 23.)...It's kinda fun to follow them.. their website is 1000days.net

From their blog today:

"The day began calm with a nice sunny breeze. Reid decided to work on patching the sail that he accidentally tore while putting a reef (tying the sail shorter) in during one of the previous storms. He figured since he had to patch the sail, he might as well do it Reid style and cut the shape of the patch into a heart, this being the theme for the first quarter of the 1000 days voyage."

From the Checkenginelight projections of their blog on day 337:

"The boat has been rocking for days upon end now. Half the time it's the weather, the other half it's because he's a horny old bastard and he won't take no for an answer. Yesterday he had a little too much vino in celebration of our first lap around the world. Was serenading/chasing me (naked, I might add).. tripped.. fell.. his guitar tore a nine inch hole in the sail... He patched it with a cutout of the earth.. He's an optimistic prick... He even colored in the continents with crayons.. What'd you expect from a man that chases women 32 years his junior?"

Checkenginelight projections of their blog on day 578:

"This sea is a mother fucker. We just made it through those 100' tall waves they speak of in the Indian Ocean. Reid continues with his Pollyanna crap. I fell eight times in the last three days, receiving a total of 12 stiches.. and I think my collarbone is broken.. I'd ask Reid to check it for me - but it's too close to my right breast and he gets carried away easily. Have you ever doinked a man that's taken nothing but an occasional salt water shower in the last two years? It ain't pretty. The Indian Ocean wrecked havoc upon our main sail. Reid cut out 14 separate "Big Bandaids" to fix the holes. I think the little prick is making fun of me now."

Checkenginelight projections of their blog from day 712:

"I am SO fucking tired of eating beansprouts outta a Petri dish... I really think I could kill a cow with my bare hands right about now... You would think, by now, my digestive system would have coordinated/balanced my diet/living on a boat. It ain't. Reid, and his thirst for me simply won't die. Last night, upon the completion of "uh huh" - for the 893rd time - he fired his shotgun into the sky upon our (his actually) completion. Big waive came up just before he did. You guessed it. The sail. Sonofabitch cutout five roundish things that looked a bit like vomit piles to repair the sail. I'm getting a wee bit tired of his humor. Jokes on him though.. I tossed out the remaining supply of his Viagra somewhere just East of Cape Horn.... You think porpoise are edible?"

Checkengilight projections of their blog from day 836:

"Reid didn't talk to me for 63 days after finding out about the Viagra. Can you imagine not talking to ANYONE for over two months? We finally, for the sake of us both making it the remainder of the away alive, made up awhile back. Now, the only time I fear him is when he gets his EMHO. You know? Early Morning Hard On. I've found so many nooks and crannies to hide on this schooner, never fails though, the Little Dutch Boy soon finds me. Sail is getting more and more holes in it. Reid's been saying "fuck it.. we ain't in that bigga hurry anyways." If I hear "Anchors Away" one more time, I'm going to try out that harpoon over there."

Checkenginelight projections of their blog from day 964:

"I awaken daily to see if I can see the coast of the good ole US of A. It's either too GD foggy, or it's clear as a whistle and we just ain't that close yet. I want my mommy. We're down to rice, just rice, as our staple. I hereby promise to never again step foot in a Chinese restaurant as long as I live. Thirteen days ago, Reid, whilst repairing the sail (Round cut-outs complete with nipples.. I think he's trying everything to get excited again) got his beard stuck in a metal do-hickey on the sailpolethingy. I had to get the scissors to get him down. He fell 17' feet. Damn. I missed catching him. Hehe. He's been soooo pissed at me. In fact, after he downed our last bottle of Vodka last night, he ripped what remained of our mainsail down muttering something like "hardy har har and fuckit! Use your hot air to get us to Nantuckett!" Reid's 58 now. Is it too early for dimentia?"

Two blogs in one day? Victor, I'm impressed!

Well... no... just copying off the website 1000days.net

If ya ain't followed along, then nevermind...

Day 9's view from Soanya:

Day Enjoying the View

Here I am leaning out of the main hatch, the slowly calming morning after a lightening storm. I'm still not confident enough to walk with ease on a rolling deck, so I enjoy the big sparkling waves and fresh ocean breeze from the safety of the hatch. Last night was a partly clear night sky with a stiff invisible wind and lightening flashing everywhere, but not really near the boat. It seems these storms are never-ending, but we can't complain. We are still headed in the general direction of where we want to go for the next few weeks, which is east or south east, and the high winds have not damaged any part of the boat or required us to go into the weather while it's blowing. The wind is the noisiest part of the ocean and when it dies down as it did early last evening, the ensuing quiet touched by the soft gurgle of water on water is a balm to the spirit. Even in the quietest times in the city, I would still be tuning sounds out. Here, there is no need to tune anything out. All the sounds are part of one big song.

Soanya

(Checkenginelight summarization: I think she just got laid.)

Ok, switch arms.......

Some preacher dude in Kansas City is making national waves... He's come up with the idea of "A complaint free world"... yeah right...

Oh, brb, gotta switch something...

K. Anyways, this feller.. (he must have some funding... I did read something about a "love donation" though)... will mail you FREE this purple plastic-rubberized wristband that denotes "Complaint Free World." Like that'll happen.

Hang on....

K. Anyways.. .his idea... is that you wear the band on, say, your left arm... when you find yourself complaining - then, you're forced to switch it to your right arm... and the goal is like 21 days without a complaint... I guess the idea is, since it'd be a pain to switch it - then you'd refrain from complaint after so long. I'm lefthanded - I think it would bug me to wear it on my right arm.... Shit..

One sec...

I guess it would be nice to live in a complaint free world... but, how could we swerve around those GD no-good weather forecasters?

BRB...

And... Bush? Who the F in their right mind (even you strictly Conservative Conservatives) could be proud/like/think we're better off than when he started 7 years ago?

Oops...

Howabout women/sex? Victor can we talk about that?

GD-it, next topic...

Work? Well... Ok... I really do like work... I enjoy my buds, going to lunch, talking to the same cronies allover the US I talk to every day... sending fun emails (I ABHOR the ordinary)... Dammit! brb...

K... Back to work. I love what I do. There's a sense of pride in finding the cheapest ass way to move a shipment... kinda like a game...No one really notices though.. until I screw up.... Then they'll let me know (after saving them $5,000)when I lose $73... Bastards...

Justa moment....

Sports... sports is always a fun topic... Yeah.. went to the Royals game the other day... Beautiful day.. fun watching people... enjoyed every single pitch... 'cept.. I just heard tonight... The Royals are the first team in history to go thru the month of April being ten games under .500 three consecutive years. In fact, no team has ever done it twice. Fuckin' Royals...

Ahm... gotta pee... hang on..

Howabout the Internet? Dat a good topic? Well, was recently called an internet geek - but I ain't complaining there.. reckon that's maybe true... I love the internet... kinda like being single - you can go any damn where you want any damn time you please... but then, come to think of it.. I think I send three emails for every one I receive... Damn that sucks... Oops...

Ok, actually what I think I'll do is order two'a them bastards... One on each wrist... then I could complain all I wanted.. and play "the shell game" each time I do!

I like the guy's brain. We all hate complainers. We can learn from complainers.. Oh Ok, sure I complain - but by golly as an observer it ain't a real pretty thing to see - or be around.. uncomfy... (NO, that was not meant to be winged at you former smokers... Ok, so I lie sometimes too!)... So, we complain about the complainers... how messed up is that? OK, I KNOW I KNOW, SWITCH!...

Wow Victor... you'd taken a couple of days off... I figured you'd be rejuvinated... all creative.. not grumpy... that shit...

Hey ya MF, would you like that GD website? Besides, you faggot-ass, you'd probably look 'sweet' in purple. Actually, I'm laughing. I actually do think... outta 100 people, I'd be pretty low on the totem pole as far as complainers... I likes that... Dunno if I could make it 21 days though...

Speakin' o' consecutive days... I wonder how our ocean buddies are doing? I think I'd have a better chance of making it 21 days without complaining than 1,000 days without seeing anyone but one other person... Wow. God Bless them two.. I hope they make it...

Your ambidextrous blogger, love, Victurd.