Last post of '05?

I am back. I was going to go over my favorite stories of 2005, then figured does anybody care. Besides, the end of the year thing is so damn arbitrary. Life, like the stupidity that flows through it, really has no beginning and no end. I will say that once I die, I am aware that it can happen to me (notice, "can" and not "will" as if I am immune or the undead, vampire, for those in the know) then all this will cease for sure, but I am pretty sure that I will get bored of this before I die. Then again, who knows what fate holds in store for me.

Can you imagine me dead? Damn! That is cold! I should be going into the "new" year, again I am not so sure what is "new" about it but the number we ascribe to it, but that is a story for another day or year, thinking about my own demise. Thank you all for depressing me, you bastards. After all I have done for you, for nothing.

I digress, but now I must consider calling the PEI suicide prevention hotline (post from June or May, I do not keep track). I was not going to do that but it seemed to flow and connect properly. Be that as it may, I have little new to discuss today.

With that in mind, I want to wish all of you out there in cyberland, assuming any of you exist, a Happy and Healthy New Year! Ciao! Party! Puke and Hangover! Whooooooo!

Christmas Jeer

I am back. I was going to take the day off (what else is new) but decided to share this tidbit. I am really going to come off as shallow here, but that may be exactly what I am. For some strange reason, on Tuesday, I went to the mall (Yorkdale) with my wife. It was busy with those Boxing Week shoppers and other assorted bits of what loosely may be called humanity.

We were wandering around the mall when I was, she too, struck with the sight of a fat chick, or to be politically correct, heavy set, corpulent, Rubenesque young woman. She was wearing what looked like a baby tee, though it could have been an XXL tee for all I know, with her white gut, belly?, hanging down over the top of her pants. I look at my wife and she at me.

The first thought is you do have to hand it to her, walking around, proud, letting it all hang out, so to speak. She does not seem to have a body image problem. She does not have a problem with her body, that is great.

The second thought, and most important, is that she may not have a problem with her body, but I do. Nobody, least of all me, needs to see that much flesh, or hers anyway. It kind of made you, or at least me, wish she did have some sort of body image problem.

Oh well, that is the scene from the mall! Ciao!

I am so embarrassed

I am back. I am so embarrassed by what I am about to write, but I have to (notice the moral imperative) do it. The lad was sleeping at his grandparents' home last night, so the wife and myself were watching television, and eating dinner, at seven. There seemed to be nothing on but "Wheel of Fortune". It really made me wonder.

I was watching one woman buying vowels instead of solving a relatively easy puzzle. She bought a vowel that did not exist in the puzzle, though buying a vowel that did not exist in life would have been funnier, but I digress. Obviously, this mental midget could not get the puzzle. This came after the woman beside, on the previous puzzle, did the same thing, including buying a vowel near the end when one should not have been neccesary. I was hoping there that she would misread the solution since all the letters were turned.

Watching this made me wonder if "Wheel of Fortune" were like the Special Olympics of game shows. Mentally challenged people come on the show and show off their obvious, though perhaps not acknowledged beforehand, mental deficiencies. It was like I was watching the "Land of the Stupid". I could not take it for the full half hour. I had to turn away as it was a train wreck of the worst kind. I can handle greed, but stupidity, no matter how dolled up it is, cannot be tolerated.

I can see the tagline...."Some of the dumbest people from all over America, come to Hollywood to play WHEEL OF FORTUNE!" That is why I am embarrassed to say that I saw this show and could only wonder if it was the Speical Olympics of game shows.

Have a great one. Ciao!

Is this year over yet?

I am back. I really do not have much to say today, but that will not stop me from writing. I do have a story, it may not be a funny one, but you get what you pay for, right? How is that for a seasonal message (damn, I have been taken by the PC police and dare not mention the word "Christmas" for fear of offending the non-Christians, of which I am one, damn Pagans)?

I go to work out yesterday. I have nothing better to do and I have to try to remove all the alcohol from my system that built up over the weekend, so I can load up again, by the way. I get down to the gym only to see Stinky Guy on his usual machine. This time I am not willing to give up my use of said machine like I did last week. I finished my weights and started just as he was about done. He did not seem to smell as ripe yesterday as the week before, that is all I know. Perhaps, his full out bathing night occurred during the week.

There was no outstanding odor issues but I saw something rather disturbing. I was in the shower when Stinky Guy entered. Funny how innocent it is when I am there, naked, yet how tawdry and gay it sounds when I write about it, but that is too bad. I watch, notice, study, really how Stinky goes about washing himself.

I felt like Kramer, only I was naked doing my thing. I figure it takes me at least ten minutes to wash my body, hair and face. I do not judge others by that as I figure that I am slow (but thorough or is that Thoreau, hahaha), I mean it always takes me a long time to get ready for basketball (put on and tie up my shoes) and was worse when I played hockey, especially when I played goalie. Still, the dude beat me as he was in after me and out well before me. I do have this to say to him, "Dude, it helps if you actually lather up. I mean getting soap on your hands, putting the soapy hands under the spray and then rubbing your legs just does not cut it! Again, I am speaking by somebody who had the misfortune of being downwind from you. It is nothing personal but you need some schooling in proper washing. No wonder you were done so quickly, how could the soap "take" to you when you did not give it time to work its magic. That is of course, "magic" for those of us who have to share the same enclosed air space as you. I would say think about it, but really do it!"

If I recall anything of note from the weekend, I will get into it tomorrow. Ciao!

Holiday Greetings

I am back. I do not have any striking observations today, but I wanted to wish all of you a Merry Christmas, Happy Hannukah and Krazy Kwanzaa. That will be all for today. Enjoy the holidays! Ciao!

I am heading to Mayfair soon, I am hoping Stinky is not there. If he is, today may be the day that I confront his odiferous ways. I cannot take it, nor should I have to. Someone must slay this beast!

Did I read what I think I read?

I am back. I was reading, well perusing a headline really, that Saddam Hussein has gone "public" with the fact that he has been mistreated while in custody (prison). How funny is that? Here is this dude, the Butcher of Baghdad, condemning I do not know how many Iraqi's to torture, humiliation and a barbarous death, and he has the nerve to "complain" that he is being "mistreated"!! What fucking nerve! He should be kissing his hairy bean bag that he has not been skinned alive.

I am sure it was said without a trace of irony. That is the funny part. I mean the world began yesterday and he should not be called to account for his sins. Karma is a bitch, ain't it Saddam?

Well, enjoy the short thought. Ciao!

More fun with people

I am back. I had an incident on Sunday. At my son's Hebrew school there was some sort of performance. We arrive and find a seat in the back row. At last all the parents arrive and the show begins. All of sudden there is this guy standing behind us, presumably to take pictures of his child(ren). All I really hear is this heavy breathing. I am struck by the fact that Luke Skywalker went to my son's Hebrew school. I had Darth fucking Vader hovering behind me with his digital camera.

Huhhhh Huhhhh Luke, I am your father!

I also wondered what kind of physical shape this dude was in considering how heavy he was breathing just to stand. I figure that if he tries to fart, he may cause himself a massive coronary.

The best part is that I recognized his voice. He was my son's soccer coach this fall. Oops!

May the Force be with y'all! Ciao!

Just when I thought it was safe to use my nose again

I am back. I had some things to say regarding the weekend past, but they can wait. Just when I thought that I could breathe at Mayfair, Stinky Guy reappears. Or should I say the man and his companion, the stench of a dying goat, stuffed a camel's ass, on a hot Tuesday in early July in the Sahara Desert. That should give you an idea of the smell that assaulted me yesterday.

I was in the weight room when I spied Stinky, and that is an understatement, on the ARC Trainer beside the one I prefer. As an aside, with his wicked body odor why does this asshole, again his smell is an insult to the smell of all assholes (except his, I presume), feel the need to use the middle of the three ARC Trainers? There is no way to buffer his stench. I finish and attempt to use the machine upwind from him. All the while, I am cringing as his reek wafts over my way and muttering things under my breath. I know it is really not the best way to do things, but I am not cruel. How do you, in the most courteous manner, tell somebody, a stranger, really, that their body odor is so fucking offensive that if they do not do something to fix it, you will find an elephant hose (the Commando 3000 showerhead) and hose him down big time? I cannot find the words to confront that and there is no "manager" around when I need him.

There should be a law. Hell, I have just decreed one. If you smell like this guy does, you should be locked into a hot box, alone, so that you can see how it feels.

Anyway, I was on the machine for about a minute and a half, when the current shifted. Okay, my mouth was open on that one and he got me on that one. Needless to say, my cardio routine shifted to a different machine. My eyes are still watering when I think about it. I would rather have that combination of sunscreen and sweat, my own, running into my eyes. The stinging there was not as bad as it was yesterday. I think this dude should bottle his own brand of reek and market it as pepperspray. His odor would offend skunks and polecats.

If I confront him, will you guys have my back? If I know you are with me, I will say something. Hell, I may have to say something because I refuse to have to adapt my workouts because of somebody's offensive body odor. It is not right. Do something about your stink or stay away from the public, let one that pays. If it were some public club, then it is my tough shit, but I should not have to smell that and PAY for the privilege of doing so.

That being said, I am done for today. Ciao!

Vacation Observations 5

I am back. I have one more vacation observation to be made. During our trip, my son and I would, at his behest, take the Spanish lessons offered at three each afternoon. It was fun. Anyway, in the earlier classes we took there was this nice woman who spoke English (she was Canadian or American).

The next day, I am on the beach while my better thirds are in the ocean (they did make it out alive in case you were wondering). I hear someone say "Hola!". I look up and it is this woman, so I acknowledge her greeting. She is getting her white self in the sun with her friend. Both of these women are not petite. I would not call them huge, but they are larger than me. I can overhear their conversation and look over to see the large friend with her huge tits getting sun. She was lying there with her arms under her tits so that, I presume, they would not just fall off to the side and into the sand. It made me shake my head but if she wants to sun her breasts that is her right and who am I to say anything.

Her nipples were the size of hubcaps though. That is all I have to share with you. Now you can have all these images burned in your mind, like they are in mine. More fun tomorrow. Ciao!

Vacation Observations 4

I am back. It is on with the show time. I cannot believe that I have been back at this for five days straight and I still have things to say and share.

Here is the latest sights on the beach. I am lying in the sun/shade looking out at the Atlantic Ocean when what do I spy. I see some kid, naked, being twirled around by his father or grandfather, who has the lad by the wrists and is spinning around. It is like some sort of human centrifuge. I got the feeling he was trying to separate out his son/grandson's inner organs from his skin. It was a funny sight but come on and give the kid a bathing suit. The last thing he is going to want to do is have all the sand removed from the crack of his ass. Then again, he may like that. Think of the pain if it were a girl, naked, on the beach like that. I mean that sand gets EVERYWHERE. That has to hurt eventually.

I will save the final two items for next week. They are not as funny but one is warped and natural. It just caught me as funny. Now, the picture of the naked boy being spun around by his wrists is certainly better than either of the fat guy, naked in the steam, or the fat German with the Speedo.

I was treated to an Italian, I presume, woman, topless, with a string bikini bottom on. It was like a piece of dental floss in the crack of her ass. I did watch as she bent over and applied sunscreen to her ass cheeks. It was interesting and quite the pleasant sight.

Think of that and keep yourselves warm this weekend. Ciao!

Funny World Ain't It?

I am back. I decided to preempt the latest Vacation Observations post for some new thoughts. I was at Mayfair yesterday. I am in the steam room and I find myself sitting near some guy. Anyway, the guy gets up to leave the steam and I notice that he is a heavy, naked guy. I am still sitting, naked, in the steam and the image suddenly dawns on me. After watching a heavy, big gutted dude walk by you when he is naked, the rolly polly German dude in the Speedo is not quite so objectionable anymore. I new entrant into the "Disturbing Images in My Brain" contest appears. Will wonders never cease?

I came across a series of sad but true newstories for 2005. Enjoy the giggle.

JUST WHAT WAS IN THAT RECIPE?
How about the Idaho high school boy who fed a batch of semen-frosted brownies to a fellow student and his friends? It seems the teenager was more than a bit ticked when his classmate put peanut butter in his cheese sandwich days before. As a police report said, the prankster, who has since agreed to admit to three counts of disturbing the peace, "hated peanut butter and it made him more mad than he could explain."

I pretty much live by the attitude that if any of my male friends offered me something that they had baked, and I was not there to witness it, it becomes suspect. That is just my way.

GAVE A LICKING AND KEPT ON TICKING
An Oregon education board reprimanded a Central Linn High School football coach for licking the wounds of several student athletes. Coach Scott Reed admitted licking blood from the knee of one student and the arm of another. It was not clear why he did it. Linn County Sheriff Dave Burright called the licking "bizarre" but not criminal because contact wasn't forced. Three students said it appeared the coach was "just joking around."
SO EASY. EVEN A CHILD CAN DO IT
An Anderson County, S.C., sheriff's deputy was temporarily sidelined by his boss after the officer's pistol went off during a gun safety class at a middle school. It seems the weapon discharged when a student pulled the trigger as the deputy was showing the kids how hard it was to take a gun from an officer's holster. The bullet fired into the floor, and debris cut two students.

What the fuck is wrong with this picture? The licking coach? What the fuck?!!!! And way to go Barney Fife.

NEVER WHEN MARRIED
Authorities in Wisconsin pinched a 63-year-old man who allegedly had a fondness for calves.
Harold G. Hart, of Neillsville, reportedly told police he stopped at a Greenwood farm "at least 50 times" to have sex with calves there. The man, however, told police he never had sex with animals while maintaining a relationship with a girlfriend or his wife.

I am thinking that I better stay away from the veal for a while. This is how we tenderize the meat. Blahhh!!!!

That is all for today. Ciao!

Vacation Observations 3

I am back. I have more thoughts and sighting from the beach in Punta Cana. There were many tits on that beach and by the pool. I was not bothered by it. It is a very European thing to do and got used to it, rather quickly, while in Europe (the Beach Tour as it turned out) in 1986. I do have to say that there were many older women who were going topless, but I thought that when I hit my first European beach in Sitges, Spain (near Barcelona). I could not help wonder then as I do now as to whether I really need to see grandma's titties but it is part of the whole package.

I think that I had mentioned in a much earlier post about my nude beach observation while in Greece. It was always people I thought that should be covered up with much clothing that were nude on the beach and the hot chicks, who I wanted to see naked among other things, in proper (such a North American, Victorian or prudish term) beach attire. Damn my imagination and covering up the "naughty" bits (damn British humor influence)!

Anyway, I get out to the beach on Monday or Tuesday afternoon and I am walking to meet the family in our shaded chaises on the beach. I am making my way along the sand and look down to see some person with gray short hair, lying topless, on a chaise. Given the style of the swimsuit bottom, hair length and style, I cannot tell if this a topless old lady letting her breasts air and sun out or an old German dude with big, old man boobs. I still do not know and I find that very distrubing, Crying Game disturbing actually.

Anybody who can help with that one, please do. That is all for today. Ciao!

Vacation Observations 2

I am back. Well thought out title for this posting, huh? I could work in Hollywood with this kind of creativity. Oh well, this is costing you nothing but time, so fuck off or send me your loose change. (I am taking panhandling to a new cyber level). As I wrote yesterday, I have these sightings from my vacations so I have decided to parcel them out over time. This is part 2.

We get up on Monday morning, which is always a good way to begin the day....waking up. I still worry before I fall asleep about what if this is THE day that I fall asleep and do not wake up, but really that is just between me and my shrink. I am done to a size 7 5/8s hat size. I digress. Given the three hours sleep the night before, morning of travel and afternoon of settling into foreign surroundings, it did not take long for us all to fall asleep (or pass out) Sunday night. Now, keep in mind that there was no clock in the room, just my wife's watch. I stir and look outside but it is still dark, so I have no clue what the time is. It is not like there is a way of telling the time by looking at the night sky and in any event I was not about to get out of bed. Eventually, my son gets up to go to the bathroom and we find out it is about quarter after six, local time, which given it was where we were is the only time that matters. We just hung in bed until around seven. I stayed longer while the other two went for a quick morning walk on the beach.

We eventually meet for breakfast at around 8:30. The breakfast buffet was good or at least plentiful. We eat and then it is back to the room to ready ourselves for the beach. I decide to have a quick workout and I will meet them. I get back to the room to put on my bathing suit and head out to the beach. To get there, I must pass by the pool, which was huge and beautiful. I am first struck by a rather round German man with a shaved head. He is standing there with his huge gut hanging over his rather skimpy Speedo bathing suit. I was glad that I had not just finished eating. The best part is he and his other German buddies have that Sgt. Schultz moustache. That part cracked me up.

I walk two steps further and there is the young version of him. Rolly Polly German boy, with his chocolate filled gut haning over his speedo. It makes me wonder if he was an old guy who had been put in a shrinking ray. We named him Uter after the foreign exchange student on The Simpsons.

That is it for today. I hope you are like me and have that image of a bald German dude in a speedo with a his gut hanging out well above his speedo. That was quite the sight, but more tomorrow. Ciao.

Vacation Observations 1

I am back. It has been a while but I was actually away. I was down in the Dominican Republic (Punta Cana) with my wife and son for a week. I was a way from all distractions of the electronic kind. It was great, though I was not used to heat, humidity and sunshine like that in December. I did get to return to snow and cold, which is more like December to me, and I can honestly say that I am not happy about that.

On a sad note before any observations, I mourn the passing of Richard Pryor. He is perhaps the best stand up comedian to have ever taken the stage. As well, a neighbor of mine lost her fight with leukemia while we were away. She was a lovely woman who had fought breast cancer only to get leukemia (ALL-Acute Lymphocytic Leukemia) (from her therapy for breast cancer, I do not know). She will be missed. I do have a certain soft spot for those fighting leukemia as that is the disease that took my father 15 years ago (AML-Acute Myologenous Leukemia). So that is it for my death watch for now.

Today's observations are from our flight down to Punta Cana. Keep in mind, it was a 6:35 am flight. I had gone to bed at midnight and woke up at three to take a shower and figure out where the hell I was. It is really dark at 3:30 am and I am not sure my neighbors appreciated me shoveling the dusting of snow from my walk at that hour. However, as I was not around for them to complain to later that day, I figured they would forget about it over the course of the week. Given the sad news of above, I am pretty sure that they did.

Two things struck me on the flight down. One was that as we sat in the three middle seats, me at an aisle, I noticed the dude across the aisle from me picking his nose. I can understand thinking that in the comfort of your own car that you are invisible and that nobody can see you pick you nose (as if), but on a crowded charter flight? Buddy, you are not invisible but obviously your finger up to the first knuckle was. I hope you got it all cleaned out and I do not want to know where you wiped the remnants.

I saw that and I had to write it down. Damn people are funny when they do not think they are being observed. Or make that disgusting, which can be funny. I guess it was in this case.

I was struck by the fact that we were served a boxed breakfast. Some orange juice, a carrot muffin and a fruit cup consisting of two chunks cantaloupe, two chunks honeydew and two grapes. Thanks, I really could not eat another bite, I am full. On the bright side we did arrive early.

Then as I was reading this older dude was talking to the woman in the seat in front of me. Of course he is talking while standing beside me with his crotch in my face. I do not recall requesting the crotch seat. I was fighting the urge to send my elbow upwards and send his nuts through his throat and out his mouth. That would have been two more grapes for somebody to eat. Am I so damn anti-social?

Yes, on less than three hours sleep, at around eight or nine in the morning (when I would consider stirring after a good six or seven hours sleep) am damn anti-social. It was not air rage anti-social, just get your fucking crotch out of my facial space anti-social. If it were a hot chick, I might not have minded so much, but it was not, so that is a moot point.

Those were the first two thoughts more will follow during the week. Ciao!

I had to laugh

I am back. i suggest you check out the link. Instead of those motivational pictures and captions that one sees plastered throughout "progressive" offices everywhere, these are demotivational and funny. I hate to go on the negative, but the stuff is funny. I have often found that where those motivational pictures are used tend to be places that only pay lip service to the goals and ideas behind the motivations. That is just me (and Shakespeare).

I really did like some of those demotivational ideas. The one about Inspiration is fun in a Jack Handey sort of way. As he goes on about genius being 1% inspiration and 99% perspiration, which is why many engineers smell bad. How funny is that? They are hilarious.

That has been said. We are on the campaign trail up here in Canada. It is a campaign that will not be much fun until after the holidays though. I am looking forward to the candidates knocking on my door. I will make them jump through hoops just for shits and giggles. I vote so it is my duty, my right and my fun. I may even try to get them to shovel my walk for free if it needs it. I have no shame. I am a taxpayer, reluctantly, so I figure I should get some good out of the tax dollars they are going to waste. Shovel my walk and, oh by the way, could you take my garbage to the curb while you are going that way?

That is it for today. Ciao!

A shorty but a shorty

I am back. I just read that there was the first Islamic suicide. strike that, homicide bombing in Bangladesh. I use the term "homicide" as that is really what it is. I do not think that one should give the perpetrator the credit of using the term suicide, which really implies a private act. This is not private, it is solely intended to take as many innocent people with you when you take you own life for some POLITICAL cause. It is not even a religious cause in this case. His group wants Islamic law in Bangladesh. I can see how this tactic works in their favor. NOT!

I was taken with the husband and wife team in Jordan. That was where he blew himself up in the hotel but she had a bomb malfunction. He is in "heaven" with his 72 virgins and she is in Jordan. How is she feeling about that now? If she had done her "job", would she get 72 virgins in heaven, too, or is a bunch of eunuchs willing to eat her pussy. I am not sure why I wrote that, but given Islam today, I am not sure what is in it for the women.

I am waiting for the apologists to trot out the old "root causes" justification. I have only one retort. I have your root causes right here at the end of this cattle prod. Are these causes root enough for you, asshole? Good! (That should all be said with a Dennis Leary voice, by the way).

I am done. I am so mad I could spit, and I just may do that. Ciao!

More Hair raising adventures

I am back. It was a wet and cold weekend as I recall. Yesterday was more damp than cold, though. I got a haircut on Saturday, there I go again thrilling you all with the minutae of my life. Neeless to say, I am finding haircuts to be very disconcerting these days. My forehead seams to be growing and my hairline is shrinking. I do not recall signing up for this. I am not saying that I am so vain that I would have chosen a short life, but with great hair. I never had what I would consider great hair. It was straight as an arrow, what's left of it still is, dark brown and had a fine texture. It is one of many traits I inherited from my father, though the texture of his hair was baby fine. My son has the same hair, straight, but his texture is even thicker than mine, which is cool, I guess.

It is all the more funny since my mother has hair that was coarse like steel wool. I can recall many time pulling a Larry Fine on her (the Stooge with the funny hair). I would rip a clump of her hair out to scour pots and pans after cooking. I do not think I could have just picked her up and turned her upside down, I could have hurt myself. This was a much better way of doing things. Besides, this avoided all the blood rushing to my mother's head. You really do not want to deal with my mother when she is light headed.

Speaking of which, I have been seeing the tables turned in my life. Any time I have made my views of life and government known, I just dislike injustice and capricious, incompetent government so I am not afraid to take the system to task for some of its negatives (taxation issues are my favorite), my mother would respond with a "David!". It was her way of saying that she did not want to hear it and that I should just capitulate and accept the bullshit. I cannot, not that I do much about it but launch private protests, which really do not accomplish much. Anyway, she has a bit of a tax issue that may have included a retroactive change, that which I find abhorent. Anyway, I was able to give her the same attitude and chuckled how she has finally come to see things my way. I do not think that pleased her but too bad.

I had another one of those when my brother was going through his articling interviews in 1996. It was a grueling process of interviews on top of interviews with law firms. Eventually, they all blend together, the students as well from the firm side, and it becomes hard to differentiate yourself from the crowd. Anyway, my brother, he with the sunny disposition, was pissed by the process. My mother and sister commented that he sounded like me at that moment. Now, what is never said is that perhaps I was perceptive and felt what I felt because it was true and honest and not just a product of my own "negative" mind set.

In fact, I do not perceive my mind set as negative. I know I can do anything and I refuse to put mental obstacles in my own path. I just see the good and bad in most things. I do have a habit of pointing out the flaws to those who will only look at the positives. I need to know the risks and rewards and I figure everybody else should know them so that they go into any situation with theirs eyes opened. I would point out the positives to those fixated on the negatives, so I am a neutralizer more than anything.

So perhaps you should take me along, the Neutralizer, when you get your next perm. We are back to hair and I am outta here for today. Ciao!

Another one bites the dust, or returns back to the dust

I am back. How is that for a happy title? Well, I guess it is the truth, but need not be negative. In any event, Pat Morita died. He was 73. The original "Arnold" from Happy Days and Mr. Miyagi from those Karate Kid movies. They said it was from natural causes. I think that says it all and why the title of this posting is not as negative as it sounds. I mean it is not the fact that you die, you do, but how you live that counts. There is the positive lesson, enjoy every moment that you have while you have it.

It sounds good to say but can be difficult to live it. Off that topic, is it bad when your microwave spits out sparks. I was standing by mine today when the sparks seemed to be flying. A few may have "hit" me. I did not think I felt any different, but then I was able to lift the piano off the floor with one arm. I now have some sort of super human strength. I sure hope that there are no bad effects. I am thinking that I am due to have something akin to steroid rage, microwave spark rage or some such thing.

If you see me driving, do not cut me off or give me the finger. I may just catch up to you and ram that finger up your own ass, along with your arm and car (as long as it is as heavy as a piano). ARRRGGGGHHHHH!!!!!!!! My clothes are ripping off my changing body. Am I turning green? Damn, I think that I am becoming the Hulk. Shit, I am becoming ....... Hulk smash computer!

Well, that passed. It was not as funny as I thought. On to the next, I guess. I have not got much to say so I will send a belated Happy Thanksgiving to all my American friends out there. Have a good weekend, one and all. Ciao! Oh yeah, I do want to send out a Happy Birthday to my brother and niece.

What is up with the Germans?

I am back. Before I get into today's topic, I have a message for somebody out there. I am talking to the tall, skinny dude working out with the weights at Mayfair yesterday in the late afternoon. Dude, give it up! You have skinny girl arms, which is okay because they are long. The last thing that I want or need to see is you pulling your sleeves over your shoulders to expose the full arm. Buy a fucking muscle tee (and the arm muscles to go with it) or just give it up! I mean, I guess if you do some reps on your biceps and triceps you should expose those skinny things to all of us. Those are not circus mirrors, your arms need a lot of work, if that is where you are going. Keep your sleeves down you deluded fuck!

Sorry about that, but it was a funny sight to watch. Then again, I work out with a long sleeve tee because I get a chill. I am just too sensitive and cold to go with a short sleeve shirt these days. I do expose my skinny legs by wearing shorts, of course I do not pull them up as high as possible to expose my thighs. I mean nobody needs to see that. Then again, I can always point to my brother (I would have done the same with my father when he was alive, but now nobody is looking at his legs and if they were, what sick fools they would be) and say my legs are not THAT skinny.

Sometimes you just have a really bad day..
Tue Nov 22,11:07 AM ET
A German man drank too much, wet his bed and set fire to his apartment while trying to dry his bedding, police in the western town of Muelheim said Monday.
"He was too drunk to go to the toilet," said a police spokesman. "The next morning he put a switched-on hair dryer on the bed to dry it and left the apartment." When the 60-year-old returned, his home and belongings were in flames.
Firemen eventually put out the blaze.

Forget the cannibalism, this is not the first time where a German had what seemed like a good idea at the time and burned down the house. The other I recall was an attempt to kill some spiders. I am still unsure what is the worst part of all this. The getting drunk, though the catalyst, is probably the least mind boggling. He was too drunk to go to the toilet so he pissed himself in his bed. Instead of changing the sheets and cleaning them, he decides to dry them. Dirty Einstein figures to use a hair dryer, and safety first, turns it on, puts it on the bed and then LEAVES the apartment.

He comes back home to find his home and belongings in flames. I am sure that has to include the final threads of his dignity, which it would appear are extremely flammable. I cannot get my head around the pissing himself in bed only to compound it with "I'll just dry the sheets" so that I can get drunk and sleep on piss soaked sheets again tonight. Hell, tonight, I may even crap myself in bed. That'll show me how drunk I can get! He sure showed us all. Again, thank you Germany. Keep 'em coming. Ciao!

Oh where have I been?

I am back. I would apologize for my long absence, but given the lack of any feedback, I do not think anybody cares. Oh well, I have returned in any event. Let me get right back to it. I was reading last week that Heidi Fleiss, former Hollywood Madam and purveyor of flesh for Charlie Sheen, is hooking up in some joint venture type of arrangement with a Nevada brothel owner. Now, keep in mind, prostitution is legal in Nevada (now to combine that with the polygamy in Utah and you would have one fun state). Her idea is to have a "stud" ranch where she would market/manage male prostitutes for female customers.

It boggles my mind, though. Other than the OLD SNL skit (Dan Aydroyd) Fred Garvin, Male Prostitute, which was very funny because it hit the reality on the head, what is the point. Do women NEED to pay to get some? I mean, if the woman in question is decent looking enough (or wealthy enough) all she has to do is go into public and put out the "I just want to get laid" vibe and she would pretty much have her choice of most guys looking to just fuck.

Then I was thinking, that if she is going to cater to the meesekite, fat or infirmed chick market, how is the guy going to be able to perform. I guess the cost of Viagara, Cialis or Levitra will be a tax deductible expense. It makes sense on the surface and then it just runs into a wall. It does not seem to be a good idea. Again, if a woman is just looking for some companionship, she could do better with a male escort and that could lead to sex for her, at an extra charge, if she so desires. I just do not see a woman feeling the need to head to the brothel to find somebody willing to give her head.

There may be some women who take advantage of such a situation, but will it really be enough to carry the overhead of this venture. I do not see it, but what do I know. I just think that though it would be "fair" for women to have this service, I am not sure they "need" it. The old fashioned methods to get off should work well. Then again, if you pay directly, I guess you would expect (rightly so) to orgasm. If that is the case, I think that a vibrator may be more cost effective, but it does not do much for the human touch.

I am now rambling, but the point is that it does not seem to be slam dunk money maker in my humble opinion. I could be wrong! So, let me ask you all, how have things been going while I was too busy to sit and write? Let me know. Ciao for now!

The heat is on

I am back. I am also happy to say that I have heat. No longer will I have to sleep with a hoodie on and my ears covered. I am three thousand dollars lighter and I really cannot show off the new furnace to my friends and family, but I could not do that with the new roof either. Oh well, at least I am safe in the knowledge that I will have heat this winter. I am assuming that the new furnace is not a "lemon" but that is all I can do and I am aware of that assumption, so if something should go wrong, I will get it fixed.

Are there in law stories to tell? Of course there are. I could go into my own families psychopathology but what fun is that. I mean we all admit we are nuts so it is something of which we all have a sense of self awareness. Not my in laws. I mean getting locked in the bathroom is a telling problem that will be ignored because the conclusions to be drawn are too frightening to grasp. I mean the man, sweet as he is in a gruff sort of way, has become (or has he always been) oblivious to anything that goes on around him.

That is okay for him, I am just not sure about those around him, though. They seem to live in their own sort of denial. All are planning for the worst, but not LIVING in the present. The future is certain, it is only a matter of when, not if. My mother in law can "wait" for the worst and put her life on hold but the question I have is what do you do when all is said and done and realize that the time spent "waiting" was wasted by not ENJOYING it and doing something with it? It is not my cross to bear but I am sure some sort of emotional bullshit the derives from that scenario is going to be dumped upon me in the future. It is just that I see possibilities and options but nobody wants or is capable of seeing the forest for the trees.

It all comes down to awareness, of self and all that is around. Living in the moment, the here and now. I am far from perfect but at least I can see ahead. It is like a chess game and you have to be able to see the possibilities eight moves ahead. This is not occurring and does not occur amongst any of my in laws, or wife for that matter.

I heard something I found funny Monday night while out with "Luigi" for Halloween. I was listening to a couple of kids saying that when they get there own homes, they will not buy stuff for Halloween. It is a "rip off" to give strange kids candy and stuff when they come to your door. Why should I have to pay for that? It cracked me up as it the disconnect did not seem to bother them. I mean they had no trouble going to strangers doors and taking the candy and chips given out. It was an interesting observation tempered by irony that they could not or would not comprehend. How funny is that and what does that say about the future of Halloween?

Ciao for now!

Random Thoughts for the 1st of November

I am back. I have had quite the weekend and some thoughts have occurred to me. Why is it that when the furnace decides (as if an inanimate object has free will and actually makes decisions) to breakdown only on weekends or holidays? It is similar to the question of why does my father in law take ill, and go to the hospital ER, only on weekends and holidays?

Yes, that is correct, we are in furnace hell. Actually, the opposite of hell, since we have not had heat since early Saturday morning. The brightside is that it has been rather mild, so the house is not too bad, unless of course you are actually in it. It scares me to say that I have to open the windows to let warm air in.

My wife wakes me at 4:30 on Saturday morning to say she smells something burning. Of course, she smells it but her only action is to wake me. I have to get up and look/smell for the source. It smells like burned plastic or rubber, but definetly something burning/burned. I make my way to the furnace and I can hear the fan going. I look inside and see that there is no flame. It could be that with the thermostat turned down, I do not like heat when I sleep, that the heat has kicked off and the fan is blowing the residual heated air. I turn up the thermostat, hear the click of the ventor motor and then smell gas.

That is a bad thing no matter how you slice it. I call the gas company and by five have a guy out to see if there is a gas leak. His reading are negative but in the mean time I shut off the furnace. My wife was wretching from the smell of the gas, I presume, or she was just wretching (which is always a pleasant sound). Gas guy comes, finds nothing in terms of a gas leak or carbon monoxide, but opens the furnace to find that the casing on wires on the ignitor have melted. That explains the smell but means trouble ahead. He shuts off the gas and crisis is averted except that I have to call my furnace guy later Saturday morning.

We go back to bed at 5:30 but I do not fall back asleep and start to doze when the lad comes in at seven to watch his cartoons. I call the dude at nine and leave a message. I finally speak to somebody near noon. He is up north for the weekend and will not be able to have a look until Monday morning. I figure we can wait since nobody else will come until Monday and it is a nice weekend weather wise. We will just have to bundle up while sleeping. Yes I have been wearing a hoodie, with hood on, to sleep the last few nights.

To make a long story short, I have a hole in my heat exchanger and that caused the flame to back up. Somehow the heat sensitive switch that is supposed to react to excess by shutting down the gas, did not work. That could have been a disaster and would have meant no more posts from me FOREVER. He figures, and rightly so, that given the time and cost of the parts, it is cheaper to replace the furnace instead of repairing it. It was sixteen years old, so the hole in the heat exchanger occurred a little too early for my liking. I was figuring we had another four years, I was wrong, but at least we now have a five year warranty with it. On the other hand, the ventor motor went on the old one in year seven, when my wife was eight months pregnant, in early December. That was a cold night and morning, I will tell you.

Of course the thing won't be fully installed and usable until Wednesday. He is putting the new one in place right now and must measure for the duct work. He will complete the installation tomorrow and we will be about $3000 lighter for the privilege. We do NEED heat, damn Canadian winters, falls and springs.

To top it all off, my father in law has had nose bleeds from hell. He is on a blood thinner, so that would explain the difficulty in stopping the bleeding. After three trips to the ER, where they could not find the source (probably a burst blood vessel given how loud he sneezes, or he was just picking his nose too much, let that be a lesson to all you kids out there about the dangers of picking your nose). He bled all over the beige carpeting so there will be a cleaning on Saturday. He is now on home rest until his doctor appointment on Thursday as he had to be removed from his blood thinning medication. He had his nose packed. Apparently it looks like he has tampons sticking out of each nostril all, tied together to his head. It must be lovely sight and I am sure he is making all the ladies "moist" when they see him like that.

At least he did not lock himself in the bathroom as well as having the profusely bleeding nose. That would have been a sight. A gruesome sight but given it was Halloween, it would have been appropriate. That is all for now, so I gues it was really but a random thought. Ciao!

What the f&%@ is this?

I am back. Two days in a row, how sweet is that? I am thinking not very but that is your problem. I was on Cruel.com and found the link I have listed above. It is another "What the fuck!?" moment. I am not sure if this is a put on or not. If it is, okay, but if it is not then I am left to shake my head.

Here is a pill to fight homosexuality, or so it seems, and something called behaviorial effeminism, or some such thing. It is America's most prescribed pill for such ailments. A pill that can "cure" homosexuality. It is as if one day a guy wakes up and DECIDES that he feels the need to smoke some pole (suck dick). I think the funniest is part is that Hetracil is actually in suppository form. I am kidding but that would be hilarious. I want to "cure" my desire to have a dick up my ass but having my "boyfriend" stuff a suppository up there. Now, that is ironic.

Pills to cure homosexuality. Will the wonders of science ever cease? The good Dr. Shetty is a medical fucking genius. He has found the "cure" to homosexuality and must be the patron saint of the religious Right. He will save your soul, not to mention allow you to avoid having your asshole stretched out (too much?). Thank you, Dr Shetty, now millions of American can sleep at night knowing that their homosexuality and behavioral effeminism can be treated and cured. This is a glorious day indeed for all of mankind. We can now have more men that will procreate.

Or, is Dr. Shetty just another in a long line of hucksters and guys who make their living in traveling Medicine Shows? Only time will tell, but just check out the link and site. Enjoy the weekend and day. Ciao!

P-UgggggH-blic Transit

I am back. This will be short and sweet. I have been on public transit a lot lately. I am just now starting to understand my misgivings about it. It is not me, it is the "public". If you get rid of the "public", then it could really be okay. Here, are some observations, most of these are multi-sensory.

I am sitting on the bus yesterday when an older, European type woman sits next to me. She is there about two seconds before her Eau de Stink wafts my way. Again, my eyes are watering. I turn to look at her and I swear I felt an eyeball of mine almost melt. I thought that with the cooler weather and wearing coats that that sort of stink would remain "hidden" under ones coat. I stand corrected. I have to write this down, there is no running from the stinky people when on the bus.

Today, I see people on the bus as we wait for it to leave the subway station. No problem there, everybody is quiet. How come as soon as the bus starts moving, the guy next to me decides it is time to open his mouth and let the "crazy" out. Either he was a fucking moron or his tactic was pure genius. I mean, once those shut and the bus starts to move all the passengers are a captive audience for the guy who now wants to converse with the fucking voices in his head. Had he pulled that shit earlier, I could have got the next bus (another one always comes along, eventually) or a group of us saner types (of which, I mean just me) could have pitched the dude from the bus and he could have caught another one (and spread the crazies around to a new and unsuspecting audience).

Do you have the picture? I mean the people watching part can be fun, but then how many times can you see the dude with mutton chop side burns. By the way, dude, Neil Young called he wants his burns back, and vacuum them before returning them, please.

That is all for now, ciao!

This just in

I am back. I found this gem, you have got to read. It reminded me of something funny, yet dark, I guess.

Dead man gets parking ticket
Fri Oct 21,10:38 AM ET
Australian authorities have apologized to the family of an elderly man who was given a parking ticket while he lay dead in his car in a suburban shopping center.
The 71-year-old man, known to be seriously ill, went missing nine days ago and his body was found in his car in a shopping mall car park in a Melbourne suburb, police said.
A parking ticket had been placed on the car the day before his body was found.
"It's just tragic. It must be just so sad for the family and we extend our sincere sympathies to them," local mayor Paul Denham told Australian Broadcasting Corp. radio on Friday.
"The circumstances surrounding the location of this poor fellow must make it all the harder for the family. It is simply a case of the parking officer not noticing."

I found it funny on two levels. On the one hand, I have noticed that the majority of people I encounter just do not notice things that go on around them. Have we all become so oblivious to the present? Are we unable to live in the moment? Philosophical thoughts for you to ponder.

The second thing was it reminded me that right after my father died, it may have arrived on the day between my father's death and his funeral, but my father received a "Jury Duty" Notice (notice the word "notice" appears quite a bit today, what does that mean?). I did call but thought how funny would have been for a warrant to be issued to my dead father for ignoring a Jury Duty Notice. Sheriffs come to the door. My brother and I handing them shovels and giving them the address of the cemetery. Picture the look on their faces as they are digging in the dirt (I mean they do have a job to do, I understand).

Something else just occurred to me, the word "funeral". You cannot have a funeral without "fun". What is up with that? Fun is not a word I would use to describe most funerals, yet there it is in each and every funeral. Go figure. Well, that is all for now. Ciao!

t It has been too long

I am back. It really has been too long, but I have been busy, so there is an excuse, such that it is. There has not been too much that has been funny to me lately. There you go. I had some funny thoughts this weekend but the funniest things have been related to my father in law.

The in laws moved into a condominium about three weeks ago. There is still that settling period and my father in law, either really, is not the most aware guy on this planet. He is soon be 79 and I am not sure if he were ever with us fully, here, in reality and planet earth. Anyway, they are settling in fine, though my father in law is still having trouble dealing with the underground parking and how to find his spot, or the way out and up to the unit, for that matter.

You know the joke about the guy locking himself in the car? Well, my father in law, apparently, locked himself IN the bathroom. The locks are dead bolt type locks that do not connect to the door knobs. I am not sure if he locked the door and did not realize and then could not figure out how to twist the high tech. brass knob to unlock the deadbolt, (I kid about high tech. it is not quite a hook and loop, but it is pretty simple). Anyway, he is locked it and screaming for my mother in law (see has two modes, unconscious and panic, and he was in panic mode).

My mother in law calls the building Super but it being around five on a Friday, is gone for the weekend. They do get the Super from the building next door (in the same complex). In the meantime, she is apparently, trying to break the door down with her shoulder. This is a women, who when I hug her, I worry that I may crack her ribs if I hug too tightly. My wife is cracking up at the sight.

Now from the inside, my father in law is trying to saw through the dead bolt with a nail file. He has watched one to many prison movies, me thinks. He is merely shaving down the side of the door. Funny, how that did not work well. My wife is now in hysteric until realizing that she shares their DNA (their present may be her future, and mine).

The Super is super and gets him out with minimal damage to the door. How it happened I will never understand. I am now worried that he will lock himself inside is car.

That is all for today, though I have another story for latter. Ciao!

Nipsey died

I am back. This will be brief but Nipsey Russell has died. He was 80. I could have thrown him into that question I had about Charo. I remember the guy from doing The Love Boat and game shows (Match Game and the like) back in the 70s. What did he actually do to become "famous" enough to make it to the Love Boat or those game shows. Please do not tell me he was some sort of "street" poet, because his poems were merely rhymes and not that good. He was no Andrew Dice Clay in that regard.

That is all I had for this moment, I just want to know.

The Day of the Disconnect

I am back. I also want to point out that this posting is a milestone posting. It is my 100th posting on this blog. I guess it is a milestone because it is round number and we live in a base ten society, except for time and imperial measure and......

I have a day today. The disconnects were many and my head is pounding. I, or should I say we, was at WalMart today. I had to take in some culture. Anyway, there was a sale on Irish Spring soap and that was why I was there, I presume. I am in the area, with a large crowd, around the soap and deodorant. People are grabbing these items but somehow my nose is assaulted by the combined B.O. of the fucking United Nations. It stinks in there. I was left to wonder why these people were hoarding the fucking soap and deodorant as it was more than apparent they either did not use these things (properly) or the stuff did not "take". Their B.O. eats the soap and deodorant for breakfast and gives them a funkier odor.

Now, it could be that they ALL had run out of soap and deodorant at the same time and were just picking up more, but they could not have had a shower this morning. Bullshit! That stench could not come from one missed shower. So, again, I am back to some sort of mutant B.O. funk that knows no end.

We are on the way home looking to make a left turn to access our street. Traffic is coming so I am waiting to make the left when this woman, in her Sunday finery complete with big ass brimed hat, is walking across the intersection. Her right hand is up near her right ear as if she is talking into a cell phone. I make eye contact, big mistake, and I notice she is not holding a phone. She looks at us and says menacingly, "Fucking N*****s (even I won't write that word)! Fucking J**s (I will be fair)!" I am about to respond with "Fucking Cunt!" when I realize that she is nuts (the outfit and hand by the face thing). I am left to think she should be saying, "Fucking N******! Fucking J***! Fucking Mentally Ill!"

It was another surreal moment! Now do you see why I had to post on Sunday. This shit just does not happen everyday! You cannot make this stuff up either that is the best part. Ciao!

Mother's Little Helper Inventor Dies

I am back. I have more bad news. It is like I am the guy that announces death. It is creapy but kind of cool. Anyway, Leo Sternbach (97), I think that is how you spell his name. died. Who is he, you ask? He is the dude that invented Valium, the little yellow pill that made Hoffmann-LaRoche famous (along with the "accidental" discovery of LSD). You know the pill made famous in the Rolling Stones song, "Mother's Little Helper". There was a pill that made many a late 60s/early 70s mother able to get through the day.

It is amazing that we need drugs to deal with reality. I am not passing any judgement here, as I have been known to imbibe and drink as much as the next guy. I have come to realization regarding my drinking which I will not share right now. In any event, I understand why I like to be drunk. By the way, I am a happy drunk, so I am good drinking in a social setting. I am not an ugly, aggressive drunk. Those people scare me. I had a friend like that and it was not a pretty sight. I did not know if I would have to cover his back and throw down the fists or not. The biggest problem was that you end up fighting, or not, because of a perceived slight or insult. I hate fighting over a mere misunderstanding. You always look like an idiot after or at least feel like one, or I do anyway.

The other major reason for recreational drug use in my life is because I find my own reality to be somewhat surreal. Life seems much more tame and not quite as disturbing when I am under the influence.

The strangest buzz I ever had was when I had my hernia operation. It was done under a local not a general. After a sleepless night in a small, strange bed, I had to wait until the afternoon for my operation. I was not able to eat. Then I got a 10mg Valium, blues for those playing the game at home, and put in the pre-op room where I dozed off (duh!). Then they give me shot of demerol. I was flying though just dozing in and out. The next thing I know
I am being walked to the OR. I pass out again, then awaken to feel the weight of the instruments on my stomach and feeling some tugging. I was up for good then. That was surreal!

I think in honor of Leo Sternbach we should all down at least a 2mg Valium (white), though 5s (yellow) and 10s (blue) are available, and enjoy the weekend! Ciao!

Don Adams is dead!

I am back. I am playing fun with fonts. I did not have much to say except what is up with Death these days? I just found out that Don Adams, the guy who played Max Smart on Get Smart, died. I am thinking there is something greater going on here. Two of my favorite television shows as a kid growing have lost their stars. I loved Get Smart (Mel Brooks and Buck Henry, James Bond type spoof) and Gilligan's Island. Now, Bob Denver, who joins John Denver, and Don Adams are dead. What is up with that?

I think that I am getting older and closer to death myself. It now comes back to that phantom "death" car that I saw a few weeks back. Those old folks were in no apparent rush to get to where they were going even though Death is really pursuing them. I guess I may not be that far behind. It is not time for all of you to contemplate that one. Have a good one. Ciao!

The comb over hall of fame, or is that shame

I am back. No news stories today just something true but not my observation. I have a friend with whom I play basketball. At the game last week, he mentioned that he was at the U2 concert (one of four shows). He had third row floors and saw quite a show. I have to say that I saw U2 on the ZooTV tour back in 1992. I thought that it was outrageous to spend $50 CDN on a ticket then. After I saw the show, I realized that I got my money's worth. It was a great show.

In any event, being this close to the stage, he saw something very disturbing. Bono has his hair grown long in the front and brushed back. The only problem is that he is going bald in around the crown of his head. The man, the rock legend (I do not know why I used that term because it sickens me to do so) has a fucking comb over. Give up the ghost, Bono. The Edge had done that years ago, hence the short cropped hair and those dopey caps.

I was so disappointed to hear that one. Of course, this comes from a guy with a great head of hair, but I am not complaining, just reporting on the ugly truth of it all. I am just the messenger but remember Bono is trying to fool himself, and the rest of us, with a comb over. How sad. Well enough for today. Ciao!

The adventures of "shirtless leather vest" dude

I am back. I thought that I did not have much to say and I guess that I do not, but there is something that has to be said. I was down at the waterfront on Saturday with the wife and son. It was a beautiful day and we were headed to the Distillery district. Only one problem, my wife suggestted it but when I asked where it was she did not have a clue. We ended up at Lower Jarvis by St. Lawrence Market and walked along Lake Shore. We went the wrong way so walked towards the Island Ferry docks and sat at the edge of Lake Ontario. It was beautiful so not reaching the destination was not an issue. Besides, life is about the journey not the destination.

Think about it. We all know the destination in this life is really death. We are all gonna go. To quote Curtis Mayfield (he of "Move on up" fame) "If there's a hell below, we all gonna go." Happy thought there, huh? Anyway, we know the destination so what makes life, life? The damn journey. The path of life we wind is what matters. You make it whether you choose it consciously or not, but believe me, as if I am the trustworthy or learned one, you do make the choices. To quote Rush "and if you choose not to decide, then you still have made a choice". Who knew how much wisdom there is to be found in North American popular music. De doo doo dooo de dah dah dah, maybe that gibberish has meaning. On second thought, no it does not.

Back to the boardwalk, we were sitting there when a number of people were walking by. I like to watch the people, you know the human freak show. It happened again. I am sitting minding my own business and two women, one toddler and a man pushing the empty stroller walk by. I look at the guy and am taken by his attire. He has on what have to be like a white terry yoga pants (or capris given the length) and the, best part, a leather vest without a shirt. What the fuck is up with that? I said to my wife. I did not say that to my son because he would be too loud and then I would have to defend myself against a shirtless freak in a leather vest. I am not sure how that sort of thing would turn out. I mean I could have doubled over in laughter, which would have meant a sure shit kicking of me, or I could have watched "shirtless leather vest fight me for his honor. Again, I am not sure he could have regained his dignity, at least in my eyes and those are the only ones that count, you know that, by putting a beating on me. I mean he would still be "shirtless leather vest" guy and nothing will change that. How did his wife/girlfriend let him out of the house like that?

I mean if you want to show off your buff arms, by all means. Just don't do it by being "shirtless leather vest". Is that too much to ask? I am not trying to take away his individuality. He just has to try something less absurd. He was a dude no doubt about that. Anyway, I am done for today. Ciao!

I post therefore I am

I am back. I have not been posting with any great regularity lately. I have been busy, I guess, or there has not been enough absurdity in life that has caught my imagination. I know how you all miss it, though. I am thinking that I need a muse. Anybody want to send in a resume to me to be my muse is invited. I will say that the pay would be shit. As I think about it, I mean that literally. Wait! That is not my scene, so just forget the pay part. I guess it is more like volunteer work. It would be good for society, though, so that should keep all you applicants warm at night, especially with autumn and winter coming up.

I changed the comment set up on this blog recently. I was getting tired of spam comments. I do appreciate the initiative of these spammers to find a new way to clog my inbox with bullshit messages. I really do appreciate the effort but I do not want it.

Well, I do have to run, so another disappointing post for you all to chew on before the weekend. Have a great one and I hope I will have some funny things to say soon. I figure that I will because my in laws have sold their house, bought a condominium, and the transactions close early next week. They are moving then, too, so something "funny" or insane is sure to happen. I am betting that if the people who bought my in laws' house do not change the locks on the doors that one day they will come home to find my father in law, confused somewhat by the change in decor, sitting in THEIR family room or in their master bedroom asleep. It is sort of a Goldilocks story, only you substitute a balding, confused but decent, 78 year old man for the blonde girl. Of course, in most circumstances that is not a substitution I would be willing to make, but here it does not seem so bad.

Anyway, more next week. Ciao.

The wood chipper

I am back. Damn those Coen brothers. They have ruined a perfectly inoccuous event like the felling or pruning of a tree and putting the remains into a wood chipper. There I was working in the home office when "BANG" I hear the sound of chainsaws and a lot of banging. I do not think much of it and continue to work. Then there is this loud motor running. I go to the front of the house and see a Hydro truck, wood chipper hitched to the back, two guys and a large chunk of tree in front of my neighbors driveway. The chipper is going and they are feeding bits of tree into it. All that runs through my mind is, "and I take it that is your accomplice in the wood chipper" as spoken by Margie the pregnant Brainerd police officer (played by Frances McDormand, wonderfully). I can never see a wood chipper again without thinking of those words. I do want to be the Dude, though. That is all, ciao.

A message to...you know who you are, at least you should

I am back. This will be short. I have a message to the guy I saw today while at the supermarket. That is a funny word "supermarket". By its name, it should be a super market. I guess in some ways it, in terms of selection, when the items are in stock (where were the regular Lays Stax? The Pringles Light [as if that is going to make a difference, I mean they may just kill me slowly and more painfully in the end]?) but it ceases to be so if the stuff I want is not in stock. As well, the produce, while okay by and large, is not "super". I would like to buy from a real market but who has the time or inclination to drive to the "market", so I will stick with the so-called supermarket.

Here is the message to the older, heavy set guy in the shorts and green mesh tank top, the Village People called, they want their tank top back. Damn, it is difficult to find outwardly gay famous people to reference. I could have chosen Rock Hudson, though he has been dead for like 20 years, so I am not sure how relevant he really is. It was just a thought but it has passed. Well, that was the message, now back to your lives. Ciao.

Odds and Sods, my sop to The Who

I am back. I did not have much to say but that changed. I hope everybody out there had a lovely Labor Day weekend. It was nice up here. My sister-in-law, brother-in-law, neices and nephew were in from Dayton for a family function. That was okay. While at my in laws' house on Friday, my wife's aunt and uncle came to see the kids. At one point, my wife's aunt, whom I have mentioned before with her ability to talk for hours but yet somehow say nothing of interest, starts to tell me about the minivan that her daughter's in laws have with the built in DVD player in the back. I was left to wonder, because it would not be "nice" to say it out loud, though I should have, do I look like somebody who gives a shit? What the fuck do I or should I care about somebody else's choice in vehicles. Who the fuck cares????? The woman is dumb as dirt, but sadly her husband makes her look like a Rhodes scholar.

On to some sad news, Gilligan, Bob Denver, is dead. Then again, I often thought that through his screw ups those seven castaways were stuck on the island much longer than they should have been, his fellow castaways would have done him in. In his defense, he was really the only one who did the hard work. I never saw Skipper or the Howells lift a finger, so fuck them. Then as one gets older the ability to pervert such a wholesome show really takes over. Turn the situation into an "adult" movie and there are many genres and permutations that can occur. I even leave the Howell's involved for those who really like "mature" folk, of which I am not one.

I was just reading that Sherwood Schwarz, who wrote and directed Gilligan's Island and The Brady Bunch, said that he knew that his casting and idea had greater social implications. Fuck that shit! Those, though I was fond of them both, were two sappy, lousy sit-coms. There were no social implications. Where were the people of color? Oh yeah, the headhunters. "Greater social implications" it was television and furthest thing from art or anything really intellectually provocative. A reality check is needed there.

On to this news story from China. Here it is.

Style-conscious city flags down bald cabbies
Tue Sep 6, 8:26 AM ET
In a bid to spruce up the city's image, authorities in China's Nanjing are banning taxi drivers who are bald, wear their hair too long, have moustaches or wear too much make-up, media said Tuesday.
The new rules are part of a 10-point plan to smarten up Nanjing, capital of eastern Jiangsu province, ahead of October's 10th National Games which will draw viewers from across the country, the Chinese news Web site www.sina.com.cn said Tuesday, citing the Nanjing Morning Post.
"Male taxi drivers cannot have long hair or strange hairstyles, cannot be bald and cannot grow moustaches or goatees," the report said.
"Women drivers must not use too much make-up and should wear appropriate clothes."
The report did not mention penalties for drivers that break the rules, but did say that cabbies who refused to pick up passengers could be kept off the streets for up to 15 days.
The strict code comes at a time when middle-class Chinese are embracing all kinds of fashion thanks to two decades of market reforms that have rendered the Mao suit a relic of the past.

No long hair or strange hair styles? Do the Chinese consider the comb over strange? See it always comes back to those damn comb overs. There is one they should ban. I guess if you are bald and wear a bad toupee that would be okay, or is that a "strange" hairstyle? Yet, it would go so well with the Mao suit. In fact, the latest in Chinese fashion could be the Mao lesiure suit. There is an idea, just keep them away from open flame because the polyester could ignite.

I am wondering what inappropriate women's clothes are. I would think that nothing but a push up bra, garters and fishnet stockings would certainly increase the fares and tips (among the male crowd) but I am not sure if it is appropriate. Only time will tell.

I think that is enough for me for today. Ciao, all.

Those Germans do it again

I am back. I never cease to be amazed by human stupidity. I came across another news story here. Oh, by the way, they found Fats Domino so disregard some of the things I concluded yesterday. I am glad and stand corrected. Or as Mark Twain, I think it was he, once said, "The reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated".

Here is a tale of human stupidity gone wild. I know, I know, it seemed like a good idea at the time. Doesn't it always?

Well, at least the spiders are gone..
1 hour, 48 minutes ago
A German woman laid waste to her family home by setting fire to it as she tried to kill spiders in a garage with a can of hairspray and a cigarette lighter.
Police in the western town of Zuelpich said that when the aerosol failed to finish them off, the 34-year-old woman tried to burn them with the lighter. However, this set the area she had just sprayed on fire and the blaze spread to a hedge.
"It was a series of unfortunate events which led to the damage," a police spokesman said Thursday.
"She tried to put the fire out with a garden hose, but couldn't. Instead her semi-detached house next to the hedge caught fire. It's now uninhabitable."
Firefighters managed to extinguish the blaze and save the neighboring house, which sustained broken windows and some charring. The spokesman estimated the total cost of the damage at well over 100,000 euros. No one was hurt.
"The family have had to look for somewhere else to stay," he said. "The spiders are gone though -- that problem was solved."

The spiders are gone, indeed. You have got to love it. Those Germans, eat each other and set their homes on fire to get rid of spiders. It makes me think that my method of a shoe is just old fashioned. It is kind of like a typewriter (huh, what's that?). I guess this method can be used for most forms of pest control. It really works. I am thinking the logical extension is the use of a nuclear bomb, small one, to rid your place of cockroaches. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but, at least, I have a glowing complexion now.

That about does it for another week. Have a great long weekend. Ciao.

I am back. I have all the news to tell. I lie. I did see a headline that said that Fats Domino is missing. He does live in New Orleans and Hurricane Katrina was not kind to those in Louisiana and Mississippi Gulf areas. The strange thing was that I thought he was dead. I am sorry for thinking that before, but I just may have been ahead of time on that one. Ooops!

There is more fun stuff in the news. Here goes.

Doctor adds insult to injury
Thu Sep 1,12:00 PM ET
"Trust me, I'm a doctor" wouldn't describe one Japanese medic who has landed in hot water after hitting and abusing a patient during surgery.
The elderly female patient at a hospital in Shiga, central Japan, was given a local anaesthetic for an unspecified operation early last month, but began thrashing around on the operating table and yelling at the doctor to stop.
After trying to persuade her to calm down, the doctor hit the patient on the forehead and yelled at her to shut up, a hospital spokesman said. The patient needed five days to recover from the injury to her forehead.
The operation was re-conducted last week by another doctor.

Damn, I should have been a doctor. Any profession where you can keep your head and cuff somebody who cannot is one for me. There is a case up here with a doctor being up before the College of Physicians and Surgeons for conduct unbecoming a doctor for yelling at some of his patients and sharing his opinions of some of his patients to their families. Two things struck me. One, I am not so sure that is "unbecoming". I see it as two things, one, bad business. It is rarely good for business to speak ill of somebody behind his/her back. Have the balls to say it to his/her face. But as far as I can tell is no crime. I mean if you have to "regulate" and "codify" that type of behavior, who are you really concerned about here. Two, somebody who has trouble dealing with people, especially those elderly and ailing chronically. Again, isn't that something that should be "taught" back in medical school, so that crap is rooted out and minimized.

Now, the doctor is working in an underserviced area, so he took the government incentives to set up practice there and he does have a large case load. His lawyer is arguing that when he was in Toronto and under stress, he had some sort of addiction. He was in Betty Ford during the time his behavior in question. He is using a diminished capacity, I am a victim as well, type of explanation. It may all be true or he may just be a shmuck who became a doctor. The world is full of these people and they make their way into every profession. Oh well, that is life.

That is all for today, kiddies. Have a beautiful one, I intend to and will. Ciao.

Random crap

I am back. I am not sure what to write today. I know that hurricane Katrina did a nice job on New Orleans and the Mississippi Gulf coast. I am waiting for either Jerry Falwell or Pat Robertson to say it is the wrath of the Lord on the sinners of these areas. Hell, they got their shots in on New York after 9/11, why not the South now?

That was a random pot shot on my part, but it is well deserved. Then again, who am I to judge, obviously not Pat Robertson. I do not want anybody to take offense, well to be truthful I really do not care, but my intent is not to offend or inflame anybody's passions here. I try to save that for the dark and it is still light. The voices cannot be heard yet, but they will have their say. They always do, I am learning.

I can see summer is winding down. I would say it is sad but let's get real. There is another one around the corner. It is just the natural cycle of things. That is a plus about living in a climate with four discernable seasons. Now the truth is that lately we do not have much of a spring. It goes from winter to some crazy heat (in March or April) back to winter-like right to crazy summer heat. They are talking, who the fuck are "they" anyway, about it being a warm September and October. I don't know and does it make a difference at this point, right now. NO!!!!!!

That is enough talk of the weather. In fact, how dull is that? I guess I really do not have much more to say, so ciao.

Hair on the brain

I am back. I have had a weekend to think about things and see stuff. It has all come back to hair stories. It is like I have in grown hair on my head and it is tickling my brain, or what I pass off as a brain. In any event, here it goes.

On Saturday, the wife and I went out for dinner with her friend and her husband. We went to this Asian type of restaurant (The Green Papaya) as it serves a sort of Thai/Vietnamese type of food. It is good, love that cilantro. Anyway, the husband, who turned 50, was mentioning that his hair felt very short as he had just got it cut. It was shorter than he was used to. I noticed that for his age he had a good head of hair. I turned to my wife and said that he could get quite the mullet out of his hair if he wanted. The thought of it made me chuckle, but what doesn't.

As were sitting, me facing the front window (I get anxious when my back is to a plate glass window, I figure when they come to off me, I want to see the bullet coming, but that is just me) I got a good view of the back of the head of the guy sitting at the next table. I noticed that he had a pony tail, though a shortish one. I start to notice that he is bald on top but cannot tell his age or hair color as it is sort of reddish in the pony but pulled back really tight. He turns around and I get that "who the fuck do you think you are fooling" revelation. This was no ordinary pony tail but an older and graying man's attempt at using a pony tail as a comb over type of deal. He had his bald spot on his crown and still had hair in the front. He grew it really long and combed it over and tied it all in a lovely pony tail. He had a part like John Belushi doing the old "Samurai" skits on SNL. We left the restaurant and I was compelled to ask my wife, "What was the deal with comb over pony tail? Who does he think he is fooling?" I mean he was with a woman (wife or girlfriend I presume), how does she allow him to leave the house like that? Who is he trying to fool? If it is others, it ain't working and if it is himself, then it is just sad.

On to Sunday, we were at an engagement party brunch for my cousin's daughter, who would also be a cousin. I saw my cousin and his brother, also a cousin, and noticed that for guys in their 50s, they also had impressive heads of hair. They both have hair like their father, my uncle, who had coarse, wiry hair as I recall. Sort of like pubic hair on their heads. My cousin, whose daughter is getting married, had his hair sort of staightened and brushed back. It just puffed out toward the sides. I was wondering if going with the Dr. Zeus hairdo was by design or accident. It was just an observation but he did seem to pull the hairstyle out of Planet of the Apes. But it looks good on him.

That is all for today. Ciao.

40 Year Old Virgin

I am back. I am not sure why, though. I must say that I went to see "40 Year Old Virgin" over the weekend. I can honestly say that I have not laughed that hard at a movie in the longest time. It was laugh out loud funny, and do not think I have done that since I saw "Animal House" back in the summer of '78. Steve Carrell is funny. He is a loser but not in a creepy way, which makes the movie rather enjoyable. The body waxing scene is a scream and worth the price of admission on its own. Damn, I think I like to hear others shriek in pain. I am now thinking that my calling has been missed or that in a former life (where are you, Shirley MacLaine) I was the torture guy in some dungeon. That would explain my love of the basement.

I do recommend the movie, though, for what it is worth. His buddies in the film are a scream as well. It is well written and well acted. Judd Apatow has his hands all over it. He is the guy who brought us "Freaks and Geeks" and "Undeclared" on television. I never was able to really watch F&G but did enjoy Undeclared. In fact, a couple of actors (at least) from that show end up it the movie, including Louden Wainwright, former folk singer, father of Rufus Wainwright and former husband of one of the McArigle sisters.

That is all. I gave you a brief movie review for your reading pleasure. It is not what is expected of myself, but....such is my life. Ciao!

What is with Pat Robertson?

I am back. I have only one question to ask today, what the fuck is with Pat Robertson? For those of you who do not know he is a tele-evangelist (the 700 Club) who basically stated that the US should kill Hugo Chavez, the leader of Venezuela. I am no fan of Chavez, but where does a religious man call for the killing of another human being, who in no way is a direct threat to him? I am being to wonder about things now.

I have no problem with religion, but what is with the "certainty" of the Evangelicals? Here, we have Pat Robertson advocating the cold blooded killing of a man because of his politics. I am thinking that if I do not like your ideals or beliefs then you are subject to death. I guess that works as a way of quieting dissent. Unfortunately, it really destroys learning as well. It is as if Pat Robertson, and those like him, believe that they know all that there is to know. Yet, it does not come across by their words and deeds, which would refute the very notion of their own enlightenment. It is scary.

Besides, Chavez is harmless and a bit of a left wing moron. He is cozying up to Castro and just loves to ratchet up the Anti-American rhetoric. He is a modern day Che Guevarra. That is great because we all know what happened to Guevarra. Besides, as he cozies up to Castro and talks of the "people", all one has to do is look at Cuba's people to see how Communism/Socialism has helped them. They are all better off since Castro took power in '59. Undoubtedly some are better off, but the majority are dirt poor and even worse off since their Soviet benefactors disintegrated in the early 90s.

Capitalism is messy and ugly. Unfortunately, it is the best system we have. I did sort of paraphrase Churchill's position on Democracy, but it is true. Socialism does not work well, just look at the Socialist Democracies. They lose rich tax payers and over burden their workers with taxes leading to inefficient and relatively unproductive economies. It is like a giant Ponzi scheme that will have to reckoned with at some point. Communism is even worse. I mean, Marx was an idiot. He formulated a utopic (?) system of human interaction and social organization that factored out humanity and psychology. Surprise! It does not work. He had the transition from capitalism to dictatorship of the proletariat to worker's paradise. The problem is that what, beyond some sort of ideological purity, would be the impetus for those leading the dictatorship of the proletariat to give up power? There is none, as they were able to feather their own nest and "pay" for their own protection. That was the USSR in a nutshell. And we know what happened to them (Thank You, Ronald Reagan).

Again, I ask Pat Robertson, what is the harm with Chavez? History's lessons are writ large for all to see. He is selling snake oil and will found out for what he is, no substance and not much style. Pat, what is your excuse? Ciao.

Then the sky turned black

I am back. I have to say that we had a wicked rainstorm here on Friday. It was like it was night at about three thirty in the afternoon. Then the skies opened up and deluge began. It got so bad that the Don River, a river of green filth and slime that runs through the city, flooded and filled some low lying streets. I caught the aftermath of one and a car was on top of another car. It was as if the one car was up and humping the other car, like two dogs. It was surreal. As well, a part of a street that was over a culvert that could not handle the volume of water was washed away. It was cool and freaky.

I saw a willow tree blown on its side. The roots were sticking out of the torn sod. It was cool. Traffic, of course, was a nightmare. It took me an hour and a half to get to my outlaws' home, which is normally a twenty minute drive. That was frustrating but I did get to witness the aftermath, and see two cars fucking, that has to be worth something. Like the blackout of 2003, it was an experience.

The worst part is that in an earlier storm cell in the morning, our neighbor had a tree in her backyard hit by lightning. It fell on the hydro wire and blackedout the area. It was not so bad but it did fry my son's X-Box. This is the second time this has happened to it. It did not screw up any other electronics and the TV, VCR, DVD and phone were plugged into the same power bar. He was upset. I called today and they wanted me to pay $120 to get it fixed and for shipping. I can get a new one for $150. Then my wife called and sweet talked them into to doing for free and picking up the shipping costs, too. I usually do that!

She was good. She was direct with what she wanted, polite, and gave a great sob story about how upset our son is and the fact that he saved for a year, which he did, to buy the X-Box two years ago. I am waiting for the box to pack it in and then will send it out. Woo-hoo!

That is all for today. Ciao.

Just when I thought it was safe to surf the net, this appears

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

The vast wasteland that is television or why do US televsion executives have no sense of humor

I am back. I am almost excited (how excited should a person be by something on television, network television?) because NBC is running two hours of The Office tonight. I missed most of its Tuesday night run earlier. I think that Steve Carrell is very funny, too. It is not as clever or funny as the British series from which it was adapted.

This made me think. This is not some anti-American rant, either, I mean, one of my country's greatest export to the US has been funny people (see Mike Myers, Martin Short, John Candy, Lorne Michaels, Dan Aykroyd, the list goes on with much pride). I just find it funny that the US has tried to adapt a number of funny British comedies without success. Just look at Coupling. I have been watching the orginal, British show on PBS and it is clever and funny. The NBC version, with Rena Sofer, was vapid and plain unfunny. What is up with that?

It is similar to The Office. The British version is much funnier. The NBC version, though it has Steve Carrell, has been dumbed down and sanitized. The character is not as "evil" or "mean", he is just made dumber, so as to excuse his ineptitude or at least rationalize it away. That is not funny. It is just sad.

It reminds of me of the trouble they had making "Animal House". When the concept was pitched to studio executives, of an older generation, they could not see it. They could not figure out why anybody would root for the Deltas. They just could not see the beauty of an anti-hero and the humor derived from it.

Out of fear of tweaking some presumed American sensibility, these clever shows are dumbed down removing the humor as a by-product. It happened with the Jay Mohr series "Action". It was a funny, funny show, though Jay Mohr's character, a Hollywood producer, was not somebody you wanted to succeed, as he was a shit. That was the funny part. It was supposed to be an HBO series but ended up on FOX and did not last long. At least, HBO lets Larry David be Larry David, and that is funny!

That is all for today. Ciao.

Hair? Cows? Where does it all end, or begin?

I am back. If anybody is need of somebody to mediate a dispute, I am the guy. Let me know. That is all for my shameless plug, not to be confused with my hair plugs. I do not have them, but recently had my head "shaved" to within about a half inch of scalp and brain, it may even have been shorter. In any event, I noticed something that really disturbed me. The front of my hair/head, has become rather thin. As the hair has grown, it is covered but I am getting a bald spot on the crown of my head, too. I am non to pleased about this. It has not stopped me from growing hair on my back, like some kind of werewolf (there really is not enough there for me to make it all the way to the simian side of things, though you will be the first to know if that happens). Am I being mocked by time? Then again, does time really give a shit about me? I am thinking that time mocks us all, so the joke is on each of us, only it is funnier when it happens to others and not me. That is my perspective anyway.

I was just reading that in Russia there was a marijuana bust. The stuff was growing on a farm with cattle. In getting the plants, they destroyed the sunflowers and other plants that the cattle grazed on. Now, they are going to feed the marijuana to the cows over winter. I am wondering if it ain't too bad to be a Russian cow, now. Then again, you may want to think about purchasing Russian cheese (then again, given Chernobyl, I would think twice and then run fast the other way). I am also not sure I want to be in a field with a herd of munched out cows. Things could get ugly. Mooooo-mannnn!

I think that I have said enough for today. Enjoy and ciao!

Ten days and where have I been

I am back. I know it is ten days later but I was busy. I had been taking a course to get a Certificate in Dispute Resolution. It was interesting but intense in terms of the depth and breadth of materials that needed to be read and synthesized. It was worth it though. It is now completed, or at least the work done, so I should have more time to update and observe.

I did notice something the other evening. I was driving to pick up the lad and came to a stop sign. Stopped at the four way stop to my left was a car with four people in it. I am figuring by what I saw that the average age of the people in that car was near 139 years old. The woman driving was going so slow that if she were going any slower she would be moving backwards. The thought occurred to me that I would think that given how old they were, and how much closer to death they were, that they would be moving with a greater sense of urgency. I mean that last thing that I would be doing in that situation is gliding through an intersection. I am near death and I have places to be and people to see, time is of the essence. Not this lady, though. There was no sense of urgency there. I am now thinking that perhaps she was already dead but nobody was kind enough to let her know, so she was allowed to drive. Or it was "Ghost Car", the haunted car of old people everywhere, just doomed to cruise the neighborhood for eternity.

That is all for today, ciao.

"Well Adjusted" is the truth

I am back. Let me be brief. I know that this blog is properly named. I have spent the majority of this week adjusting myself. It has been damn hot and humid here, as it has for most of July. I have been adjusting myself for a while, so I better well be well adjusted by now. Of course, I could just be enjoying the sense of touch. How pathetic yet funny. That is all I have to say so have a great weekend! Ciao!

So many questions, so.....many questions

I am back. I did not post yesterday. I wonder what that means. There is question one. I was wondering why do fools fall in love? The best possibility is that so they can breed stupid children, who will grow up to be stupid adults, who will fall in love and perpetuate the stupid gene. The Earth seems to have a shortage of stupid people, according to my astute observations. The only hope for mankind seems to be those old stand bys, natural selection and "accidents". You know those accidents are just a form of natural selection. A little bit of Darwin's Theory of Evolution playing out, for your entertainment and education, right before your eyes.

I do not have a specific example of these things today. I mean I have been chronicling them for months now, so you know they are there.

Are we there yet? That is another oldie but a goodie. That is a reminder of our childhood (sender) and the life of a parent (receiver). I do like the dual perspective now, though. That, and I am much meaner than my father. I feel the need to fuck with my son's head with all those questions. He cannot tell if I am serious or joking. He is like his mother in that way. Damn, I like tormenting those closest to me. No wonder my sister could not stand me. Oh well, that is between her and her analyst, it ain't my problem.

My favorite question as a kid was, when my father would try to herd us into the car to go somewhere, "where are we going?". The reply, which was always so annoying (it was so annoying but ingrained in us that a form of it is on his headstone), was to sing a song from the Broadway show "Paint Your Wagon". It was "where are we going, I don't know, when will we get there, I ain't certain, all that I know, is I am on my way." Imagine hearing that, and keep in mind he would sing it and he was tone deaf (like my brother, they all wish they had my singing voice. I sing and the birds drop dead from the trees and dogs howl along with me, but that is a story for another day.) I wanted to strike him after receiving that song the second time I asked the question and the second time I had to listen to the singing reply. Ahhhh, I miss it now, though (that was the wistful moment of the day).

How do you know? The only good reply is "how can you not know, you dumb fuck!?" That always gets them and puts them in their place. Sure, there may be some hurt feelings but at least there is certainty as to where you stand and what you think. That has to count for something. It can also keep you warm at night, but given the overnight temperatures we have been having here, that is not a problem.

Finally, I leave you with this, shall I say, burning, question. Why does it hurt when I pee? Ciao!