I am back. Death, especially when to one close to you, has a way of sobering your mind. Though, a few drinks now would not be such a bad thing. A little brain lubrication may make this a better posting. Excuse me for a second and thank you all for the suggestion. I am back again, and again and again. Where was I...Oh yeah, sobering mind and all. It had me thinking about the old adage that whatever you focus on the more of it you receive. If you focus on what you do not have, a lack, that is what you will get more of, a lack of something. If you focus on the good things you have, sex, drugs, rock & roll, the more of it you will receive. I thought I would do that here and state how thankful I am for the things I do have.
I am thankful that I have some of some killer bud. I mean that helps take the edge off of life and even makes television interesting. I also know it is time for bed when there are two televisions in the room. It did not start off that way, but that is how it ended up. I could do without the paranoia but then again, that is a normal state for me at the best of times. Here is to all the brain cells that have been sacrificed in the name of the greater good, coping.
I am thankful that I am not flexible enough to lick my own crotch. I would never have gotten married and become a father, otherwise. I mean I would never leave the house. I mean why should I? If I could do that, there is no reason to get married. It probably has cost me big bucks on my PC Cam show, I mean who wants to pay to see me sitting naked at the computer? You take the good with the bad, I guess.
I am thankful that I am not butt ugly. I mean traveling around the country with the freak show gets a bit tiresome after a while. Then when you try to stay in one place and put down roots, the town's folk take that literally and try to bury your head and butt ugly face. Breathing dirt is no life even for a butt ugly freak show attraction. I guess that was all self explanatory. You can call me Captain Obvious if you would like, then I could get the cape and tights, which is something all men should own and wear with great regularity, unless of course they do not want to be considered gay or insane.
Off the topic for a second, but have any of you noticed that Barry Bonds head has taken on the size of a Kennedy melon. If he were not African American he would look just like Ted Kennedy's long lost relative. That of course based only on cranium size.
I am thankful that I am not a foreigner. Then I would speak a foreign language and I would not be able to understand a fucking word I said. (I am thankful that P.J. O'Rourke wrote that about 25 years ago in National Lampoon).
I am thankful for the love in my life, or at least the absence of bitter hostility directed towards me. Then again, even if it were directed towards me I am sure that I am too self centred to care or even notice. Better luck next life, assholes.
I am thankful that I do not have a fat ass. I would think it would be difficult to find jeans that fit in that sense. I have enough trouble having my jeans not slide off my hips, but with a fat ass, well, how do you get them on, or off. Speaking of which, anybody notice the size of Mandisa (American Idol contestant with a great voice) ass. That is one BIG booty. I do not think that I want her to sit on my face, unless it was a strange suicide attempt (made to look like an accident, then I could have full burial rights, but I would know the truth, of course, I would be dead, so....).
I am thakful for every day that I have on this Earth. I know it is sappy, but with each day comes more and deeper observations about the size of people's asses, so what can be bad about that.
With that I am done for the day. Ciao!
Thursday, March 30, 2006
Tuesday, March 28, 2006
It has been a rather sad few days
I am back. I have nothing funny to say today, so you are saying "why the fuck did I come here then". How the hell should I know? I cannot read minds. Anyway, I had not posted in few days because it is with a lot of sadness that I have to say my aunt passed away on Friday. She was my father's oldest sister.
She was 80. She was an interesting woman. She always tried to carry the aura of regality and being above it all. In that sense she was all about controlling appearances. Back in the day, really before I was conscious of a back in the day (circa 1960s and 70s), she tried to give off the appearance of the "perfect" family with my uncle and three older cousins. My mother said she and my father, hell everybody, aspired to be them. That appearance was a figment of somebody's imagination. They were far from perfect and that could not have sat well with her when the truth came out.
It all seemed to come out in 1980, when my uncle died. The sheet was pulled back and the world saw the Great Oz. Again, I was too dim or self absorbed to see it or even care. I mean, I had no illusion of their perfection as a family. I mean the brothers (about 15 months apart in age) could not stand each other. My eldest cousin married some dude her parents did not like and then, scandalously, divorced. This family had it all in that way. They were far from perfect but I did not care as they were family and as I said, I never really aspired to be them.
They did have the coolest house in the Manor, though. My uncle built it. It was a bungalow that was huge with a courtyard. The kitchen was small but "state of the art" cool in a 60s sort of way. There was no stove per se, two ovens built in and a cook top that was pulled out of the casing. It was just a cool kitchen. The bathroom fixtures were those mod blue color, too. It was a fucking cool house, I will always say.
My uncle's death was a shocker and not without controversy and scandal. I won't go into it, but suffice to say my aunt was not buried with my uncle and I can only assume why that is.
As the appearance of perfection fell by the wayside, she did reinvent herself and nourshed her spiritual side. She joined Kabbalah and then became more religious. I think the Kabbalists had pissed her off eventually, but they were there when my grandmother died back in 1991. The interesting thing was that she died on her mother's birthday. In her world, there were no coincidences. All these connections have meaning, though you do not necessarily understand them at the present time. I can accept that premise and I can also see that was a great way of not thinking the "what if" question. As in what if it is all random? What if life is truly "meaningless"? I am not saying it is, but just ponder the question for a moment. It can blow your mind.
At least, it is not sitting on the toilet, pondering your own death, or life without you (not in a suicidal way but in an existential way) and then breaking out in cold sweat, haunted for the rest of the day. Hands up, all those who have had that happen to them, or is that exprienced that.
She had been in the hospital and long term care for a lung/breathing problem for over a year. Finally, she gave up her apartment. She had a stroke or heart trouble while in long term care and was on a ventilator from about last January onward. I will say that when she was lucid, though on the ventilator, last year, she seemed a peace with her life and where she was in the present. I did have the opportunity to tell her that and I think her faith was a great comfort to her. If we measure a life by experiences we have had the people we have touched then she had a full and rich life, much like any habitual subway groper, by the way. I could not resist a wise ass comment. I am not sure she would have appreciated it, but she is not here to do anything about it so.....
She faced her unknown destination with courage and dignity, at least in my eyes. For what it is worth, I had not visited much since she was hopped up on a lot of morphine for the pain, which made her sleepy and loopy. I will say a sad fare well to my aunty Rita. Go join your mother, father, brother, husband and companion. I will miss you, but that is life and that is how it goes and will continue to go.
Anyway, the funeral was on Sunday. It was "fun", because as I said before, you cannot have a funeral without "fun" or else all you have is "eral" and what the fuck is "eral"?! Ciao and thank you for reading to the end!
She was 80. She was an interesting woman. She always tried to carry the aura of regality and being above it all. In that sense she was all about controlling appearances. Back in the day, really before I was conscious of a back in the day (circa 1960s and 70s), she tried to give off the appearance of the "perfect" family with my uncle and three older cousins. My mother said she and my father, hell everybody, aspired to be them. That appearance was a figment of somebody's imagination. They were far from perfect and that could not have sat well with her when the truth came out.
It all seemed to come out in 1980, when my uncle died. The sheet was pulled back and the world saw the Great Oz. Again, I was too dim or self absorbed to see it or even care. I mean, I had no illusion of their perfection as a family. I mean the brothers (about 15 months apart in age) could not stand each other. My eldest cousin married some dude her parents did not like and then, scandalously, divorced. This family had it all in that way. They were far from perfect but I did not care as they were family and as I said, I never really aspired to be them.
They did have the coolest house in the Manor, though. My uncle built it. It was a bungalow that was huge with a courtyard. The kitchen was small but "state of the art" cool in a 60s sort of way. There was no stove per se, two ovens built in and a cook top that was pulled out of the casing. It was just a cool kitchen. The bathroom fixtures were those mod blue color, too. It was a fucking cool house, I will always say.
My uncle's death was a shocker and not without controversy and scandal. I won't go into it, but suffice to say my aunt was not buried with my uncle and I can only assume why that is.
As the appearance of perfection fell by the wayside, she did reinvent herself and nourshed her spiritual side. She joined Kabbalah and then became more religious. I think the Kabbalists had pissed her off eventually, but they were there when my grandmother died back in 1991. The interesting thing was that she died on her mother's birthday. In her world, there were no coincidences. All these connections have meaning, though you do not necessarily understand them at the present time. I can accept that premise and I can also see that was a great way of not thinking the "what if" question. As in what if it is all random? What if life is truly "meaningless"? I am not saying it is, but just ponder the question for a moment. It can blow your mind.
At least, it is not sitting on the toilet, pondering your own death, or life without you (not in a suicidal way but in an existential way) and then breaking out in cold sweat, haunted for the rest of the day. Hands up, all those who have had that happen to them, or is that exprienced that.
She had been in the hospital and long term care for a lung/breathing problem for over a year. Finally, she gave up her apartment. She had a stroke or heart trouble while in long term care and was on a ventilator from about last January onward. I will say that when she was lucid, though on the ventilator, last year, she seemed a peace with her life and where she was in the present. I did have the opportunity to tell her that and I think her faith was a great comfort to her. If we measure a life by experiences we have had the people we have touched then she had a full and rich life, much like any habitual subway groper, by the way. I could not resist a wise ass comment. I am not sure she would have appreciated it, but she is not here to do anything about it so.....
She faced her unknown destination with courage and dignity, at least in my eyes. For what it is worth, I had not visited much since she was hopped up on a lot of morphine for the pain, which made her sleepy and loopy. I will say a sad fare well to my aunty Rita. Go join your mother, father, brother, husband and companion. I will miss you, but that is life and that is how it goes and will continue to go.
Anyway, the funeral was on Sunday. It was "fun", because as I said before, you cannot have a funeral without "fun" or else all you have is "eral" and what the fuck is "eral"?! Ciao and thank you for reading to the end!
Thursday, March 23, 2006
Hyp-MO-tized
I am back. I was driving home yesterday, which is a good thing, when I caught sight of the car in front of me. It was a late model Pontiac Grand Am, black, with the rear view mirror just hanging by a wire (for the light?). Anyway, as I am driving, and the car in front of me, the damn mirror is just swaying. It is moving back and forth, undulating (like that word?) as the cars move forward. All of sudden, I find that the movement of this damn mirror has me mesmerized. I was hypomotized.
Thankfully, there was no sun. I mean, there was a sun obviously or we would all be frozen and dead, or is that dead and frozen. In any event, I would not be typing right now, let alone later. I mean no sun really does equal no life. I did talk of the moon of Saturn and how fucking cold it was there, and that is with a sun, albeit far away from it. That would be Earth without the sun. Then again, if that were the case then I would crank up the heat on the new furnace and let the motherfucker burn. I figure we are all dead soon enough, so the let the gas company try and collect from my cold, dead corpse. That would show them.
Damn, I do digress often, it must be the ADD. Anyway, it was cloudy because if the sun were coming from my back, though it would have been in the west and I was travelling south, the light would keep reflecting off that undulating mirror and hitting me square in the eyes regularly. It could have been like a bad amusment park ride, with the greater risk of a car accident at a high speed (now that could have been cool).
So, dude, fix that damn mirror. How do you actually use it when it just dangles there? I may have to chalk that up to another one of life's sweet mysteries. It is not quite "how do they get the caramel in the Caramilk bar" type of a mystery but it is indeed spooky. For those of you who are American, a Caramilk is a caramel and milk chocolate candy bar made by Cadbury Schweppes, which means that it is British in origin and will lead to those awful English teeth if you eat enough of them, and do not have flouride in your water or even brush your teeth. It is a "Prince Charles" waiting to happen, if you are not careful, or are British.
With that I bid you all a fine adieu. Ciao!
Thankfully, there was no sun. I mean, there was a sun obviously or we would all be frozen and dead, or is that dead and frozen. In any event, I would not be typing right now, let alone later. I mean no sun really does equal no life. I did talk of the moon of Saturn and how fucking cold it was there, and that is with a sun, albeit far away from it. That would be Earth without the sun. Then again, if that were the case then I would crank up the heat on the new furnace and let the motherfucker burn. I figure we are all dead soon enough, so the let the gas company try and collect from my cold, dead corpse. That would show them.
Damn, I do digress often, it must be the ADD. Anyway, it was cloudy because if the sun were coming from my back, though it would have been in the west and I was travelling south, the light would keep reflecting off that undulating mirror and hitting me square in the eyes regularly. It could have been like a bad amusment park ride, with the greater risk of a car accident at a high speed (now that could have been cool).
So, dude, fix that damn mirror. How do you actually use it when it just dangles there? I may have to chalk that up to another one of life's sweet mysteries. It is not quite "how do they get the caramel in the Caramilk bar" type of a mystery but it is indeed spooky. For those of you who are American, a Caramilk is a caramel and milk chocolate candy bar made by Cadbury Schweppes, which means that it is British in origin and will lead to those awful English teeth if you eat enough of them, and do not have flouride in your water or even brush your teeth. It is a "Prince Charles" waiting to happen, if you are not careful, or are British.
With that I bid you all a fine adieu. Ciao!
Tuesday, March 21, 2006
It is a great idea, yet it does not make it any less frightening
I am back. I am linking to the website for Great John Toilet Co. You have to see it. It saddens me that it is such a great idea. It is a toilet for fat folk. Here is the URL. http://greatjohn.com/grjodi.html
Regardless of who you are buying for, yourself or a loved one, there are a few things you might like to know about our toilets. The GREAT JOHN is by no means a STANDARD toilet. It was designed from the ground up.
COMFORT ISSUES A regular toilet has a terribly small seat. This creates very uncomfortable pressure points, consequently producing numbness in the legs and thighs from lack of proper blood flow. Our toilet seats have 150% more contact surface area than a standard elongated seat, yet it can be used by a small person or a child in a safe way. Considering ergonomics, the toilet seat and bowl have more than 6 extra inches in the front. We made the toilet bowl 17 ½” tall, which gives most people an easier time getting up. It also makes it ADA compliant. Finally, for those of us that are tall regardless of our weight, a standard toilet seat and a low toilet bowl create a very cramped and uncomfortable position. The GJ toilet has 10.5” longer legs and thighs clearance than a standard round toilet assuring a comfortable and ultra-relaxed experience.
SAFETY ISSUES The Great John is substantially more robust than a standard toilet. Standard designs are not meant to withstand a big person. For STABILITY, we designed a super wide base. To insure STURDINESS, we also added reinforcements into the base. Our toilets are tested to 2000 lb. To eliminate the problem of the SEAT SLIDING, we provide "Anti-Side" fins for safety. This also prevents pinching. Finally, GJ has added a second SET OF ANCHORS at the front sides of the base to increase protection against movement of the unit from the floor.
Just think about it for a minute. You are too fat to sit on a standard toilet comfortably, what does that say? You know you are too fat when you need fins for safety and to prevent pinching. Given your girth, though, I bet you don't feel the "pinch" for a few minutes anyway. It takes a while for the pain signal to get through all that fat.
I do not want to be insensitive to the obese and I do think that this is a great idea with a large market, pun intended. I am wondering, though, if it has an extra wide bowl to handle the dumps that are the size of a baby. No sense losing weight, just get an Great John HUGE toilet. That will solve all your problems. Of course, the drain lead out of the house will have to be expanded to handle all the extra waste.
I think that I am jealous that I did not see this need. Big ass toilet seats, what a fucking concept. I could start a line of big ass stuff, shoes for clowns, toilet seats for the morbidly obese, the list really is endless. Oh yeah, dig the couple on the website. We are fat, but jolly and even more so now that we can take a dump without fear of toilet collapse, seat slide or pinching. The world is good once again.
Just thought I would share that with y'all. It cracked me up and that is all that matters. It was the Heat of the Moment telling you what your heart meant.........Ciao!
Regardless of who you are buying for, yourself or a loved one, there are a few things you might like to know about our toilets. The GREAT JOHN is by no means a STANDARD toilet. It was designed from the ground up.
COMFORT ISSUES A regular toilet has a terribly small seat. This creates very uncomfortable pressure points, consequently producing numbness in the legs and thighs from lack of proper blood flow. Our toilet seats have 150% more contact surface area than a standard elongated seat, yet it can be used by a small person or a child in a safe way. Considering ergonomics, the toilet seat and bowl have more than 6 extra inches in the front. We made the toilet bowl 17 ½” tall, which gives most people an easier time getting up. It also makes it ADA compliant. Finally, for those of us that are tall regardless of our weight, a standard toilet seat and a low toilet bowl create a very cramped and uncomfortable position. The GJ toilet has 10.5” longer legs and thighs clearance than a standard round toilet assuring a comfortable and ultra-relaxed experience.
SAFETY ISSUES The Great John is substantially more robust than a standard toilet. Standard designs are not meant to withstand a big person. For STABILITY, we designed a super wide base. To insure STURDINESS, we also added reinforcements into the base. Our toilets are tested to 2000 lb. To eliminate the problem of the SEAT SLIDING, we provide "Anti-Side" fins for safety. This also prevents pinching. Finally, GJ has added a second SET OF ANCHORS at the front sides of the base to increase protection against movement of the unit from the floor.
Just think about it for a minute. You are too fat to sit on a standard toilet comfortably, what does that say? You know you are too fat when you need fins for safety and to prevent pinching. Given your girth, though, I bet you don't feel the "pinch" for a few minutes anyway. It takes a while for the pain signal to get through all that fat.
I do not want to be insensitive to the obese and I do think that this is a great idea with a large market, pun intended. I am wondering, though, if it has an extra wide bowl to handle the dumps that are the size of a baby. No sense losing weight, just get an Great John HUGE toilet. That will solve all your problems. Of course, the drain lead out of the house will have to be expanded to handle all the extra waste.
I think that I am jealous that I did not see this need. Big ass toilet seats, what a fucking concept. I could start a line of big ass stuff, shoes for clowns, toilet seats for the morbidly obese, the list really is endless. Oh yeah, dig the couple on the website. We are fat, but jolly and even more so now that we can take a dump without fear of toilet collapse, seat slide or pinching. The world is good once again.
Just thought I would share that with y'all. It cracked me up and that is all that matters. It was the Heat of the Moment telling you what your heart meant.........Ciao!
It is a great idea, yet it does not make it any less frightening
I am back. I am linking to the website for Great John Toilet Co. You have to see it. It saddens me that it is such a great idea. It is a toilet for fat folk. Here is the URL. http://greatjohn.com/grjodi.html
Regardless of who you are buying for, yourself or a loved one, there are a few things you might like to know about our toilets. The GREAT JOHN is by no means a STANDARD toilet. It was designed from the ground up.
COMFORT ISSUES A regular toilet has a terribly small seat. This creates very uncomfortable pressure points, consequently producing numbness in the legs and thighs from lack of proper blood flow. Our toilet seats have 150% more contact surface area than a standard elongated seat, yet it can be used by a small person or a child in a safe way. Considering ergonomics, the toilet seat and bowl have more than 6 extra inches in the front. We made the toilet bowl 17 ½” tall, which gives most people an easier time getting up. It also makes it ADA compliant. Finally, for those of us that are tall regardless of our weight, a standard toilet seat and a low toilet bowl create a very cramped and uncomfortable position. The GJ toilet has 10.5” longer legs and thighs clearance than a standard round toilet assuring a comfortable and ultra-relaxed experience.
SAFETY ISSUES The Great John is substantially more robust than a standard toilet. Standard designs are not meant to withstand a big person. For STABILITY, we designed a super wide base. To insure STURDINESS, we also added reinforcements into the base. Our toilets are tested to 2000 lb. To eliminate the problem of the SEAT SLIDING, we provide "Anti-Side" fins for safety. This also prevents pinching. Finally, GJ has added a second SET OF ANCHORS at the front sides of the base to increase protection against movement of the unit from the floor.
Just think about it for a minute. You are too fat to sit on a standard toilet comfortably, what does that say? You know you are too fat when you need fins for safety and to prevent pinching. Given your girth, though, I bet you don't feel the "pinch" for a few minutes anyway. It takes a while for the pain signal to get through all that fat.
I do not want to be insensitive to the obese and I do think that this is a great idea with a large market, pun intended. I am wondering, though, if it has an extra wide bowl to handle the dumps that are the size of a baby. No sense losing weight, just get an Great John HUGE toilet. That will solve all your problems. Of course, the drain lead out of the house will have to be expanded to handle all the extra waste.
I think that I am jealous that I did not see this need. Big ass toilet seats, what a fucking concept. I could start a line of big ass stuff, shoes for clowns, toilet seats for the morbidly obese, the list really is endless. Oh yeah, dig the couple on the website. We are fat, but jolly and even more so now that we can take a dump without fear of toilet collapse, seat slide or pinching. The world is good once again.
Just thought I would share that with y'all. It cracked me up and that is all that matters. It was the Heat of the Moment telling you what your heart meant.........
Regardless of who you are buying for, yourself or a loved one, there are a few things you might like to know about our toilets. The GREAT JOHN is by no means a STANDARD toilet. It was designed from the ground up.
COMFORT ISSUES A regular toilet has a terribly small seat. This creates very uncomfortable pressure points, consequently producing numbness in the legs and thighs from lack of proper blood flow. Our toilet seats have 150% more contact surface area than a standard elongated seat, yet it can be used by a small person or a child in a safe way. Considering ergonomics, the toilet seat and bowl have more than 6 extra inches in the front. We made the toilet bowl 17 ½” tall, which gives most people an easier time getting up. It also makes it ADA compliant. Finally, for those of us that are tall regardless of our weight, a standard toilet seat and a low toilet bowl create a very cramped and uncomfortable position. The GJ toilet has 10.5” longer legs and thighs clearance than a standard round toilet assuring a comfortable and ultra-relaxed experience.
SAFETY ISSUES The Great John is substantially more robust than a standard toilet. Standard designs are not meant to withstand a big person. For STABILITY, we designed a super wide base. To insure STURDINESS, we also added reinforcements into the base. Our toilets are tested to 2000 lb. To eliminate the problem of the SEAT SLIDING, we provide "Anti-Side" fins for safety. This also prevents pinching. Finally, GJ has added a second SET OF ANCHORS at the front sides of the base to increase protection against movement of the unit from the floor.
Just think about it for a minute. You are too fat to sit on a standard toilet comfortably, what does that say? You know you are too fat when you need fins for safety and to prevent pinching. Given your girth, though, I bet you don't feel the "pinch" for a few minutes anyway. It takes a while for the pain signal to get through all that fat.
I do not want to be insensitive to the obese and I do think that this is a great idea with a large market, pun intended. I am wondering, though, if it has an extra wide bowl to handle the dumps that are the size of a baby. No sense losing weight, just get an Great John HUGE toilet. That will solve all your problems. Of course, the drain lead out of the house will have to be expanded to handle all the extra waste.
I think that I am jealous that I did not see this need. Big ass toilet seats, what a fucking concept. I could start a line of big ass stuff, shoes for clowns, toilet seats for the morbidly obese, the list really is endless. Oh yeah, dig the couple on the website. We are fat, but jolly and even more so now that we can take a dump without fear of toilet collapse, seat slide or pinching. The world is good once again.
Just thought I would share that with y'all. It cracked me up and that is all that matters. It was the Heat of the Moment telling you what your heart meant.........
Monday, March 20, 2006
I remember it now
I am back. I just had the light bulb go on over my head. I then remembered to shut the light. But the Asia song that I could not recall on Thursday was "Heat of the Moment". I remembered that one on my own no thanks to any of you out there. I guess beggers cannot be choosers but I am not begging now. Anyway, I did it alone, as usual. There you have it. I was able to go into the recesses of my mind without cutting into my own skull. That was the bonus.
The fog, in my head, seems to have lifted, too. Maybe it is because spring has sprung as of today. Then again, it has not been a particularly bad winter.
Anyway, Cyclone Larry did a number on Australia. It was the strongest cyclone since 1974 to have hit Australia. I just find it funny. I do not associate "Larry" with disaster and destruction. Larry Holmes was a hell of a boxer (who probably did get jobbed against Michael
Spinx) but he was no scary thug like Mike Tyson. He just happened to hit his peak in an era of relatively weak heavyweights (crazy Trevor Berbick, an old and worn out Ali, old Ernie Shavers, etc.) He just did not have the competition but he had a hell of a jab.
But I digress. It was the name Larry. It just does not strike fear into my heart. Cyclone Larry, cousin Larry, as Balky would say on Perfect Strangers. There was a shitty television show from the 80s that I can proudly say I never watched (along with Full House). Be that as it may, that is now how I associate the name "Larry". I find it hard to see the destructive force of a Larry.
I play basketball with a dude named Larry. He is tough but not destructive. He is also a good guy, even for a lawyer. What can I say, I just have trouble visualizing a Cyclone Larry. Ciao!
The fog, in my head, seems to have lifted, too. Maybe it is because spring has sprung as of today. Then again, it has not been a particularly bad winter.
Anyway, Cyclone Larry did a number on Australia. It was the strongest cyclone since 1974 to have hit Australia. I just find it funny. I do not associate "Larry" with disaster and destruction. Larry Holmes was a hell of a boxer (who probably did get jobbed against Michael
Spinx) but he was no scary thug like Mike Tyson. He just happened to hit his peak in an era of relatively weak heavyweights (crazy Trevor Berbick, an old and worn out Ali, old Ernie Shavers, etc.) He just did not have the competition but he had a hell of a jab.
But I digress. It was the name Larry. It just does not strike fear into my heart. Cyclone Larry, cousin Larry, as Balky would say on Perfect Strangers. There was a shitty television show from the 80s that I can proudly say I never watched (along with Full House). Be that as it may, that is now how I associate the name "Larry". I find it hard to see the destructive force of a Larry.
I play basketball with a dude named Larry. He is tough but not destructive. He is also a good guy, even for a lawyer. What can I say, I just have trouble visualizing a Cyclone Larry. Ciao!
Friday, March 17, 2006
Why Denny's?
I am back. I think that I mean that in more ways than one. How is that for being cryptic? To know me is to know me is to know me, but who the hell does? That, of course, may be my problem and part of a larger life conundrum that I have or have created. I firmly follow the old Groucho Marx joke of not wanting to belong to any club that would have somebody like me for a member. What kind of fool am I? Enough of that, I digress.
I just read that there was ANOTHER shooting and killing in a Southern California Denny's today. Apparently, that is the third one this week. What the fuck is up with that? What the hell did Denny's do to deserve that? I have not forgotten the racism issue of the mid 90s but I thought that was behind them. Who would want to shoot people in Denny's? I mean Denny's is good. It is where I had, and continue to have, Chicken Fried Steak and Eggs. Again, I thank Willie for introducing me to that. Of course, my hardening arteries may not be so happy, but fuck them, stroke me out (that is a great double entendre)
I can see people opening fire inside a McDonalds, Burger King or even Wendy's. I can see that. They are especially anger and psychosis inducing places to be, but Denny's? A cup of coffee, some chicken, or country, fried steak and eggs, hash browns, toast and perhaps a side of grits, what can make you angry? I just do not get it. Even the Super Bird is a good sangwich. I know that they tend to put cheese and/or bacon on all their sandwiches but that is no reason to shoot up the place and the people eating there.
I say that about McDonalds because of the film of Yecch! that gets left in your mouth whenever you eat anything there. It used to be that the coffee left that same film. Then it became that the coffee was the only thing that could remove the film. Or was the coffee so vile that it made you forget about the film but focus on the bad taste it left in your mouth. Anyway, the coffee has improved, I am told, so now it is still the film thing you are left with and that cannot be good for anyone.
Well, dwell on that a bit and wonder why shoot at Denny's, three times in a week no less, in Southern California. Governor Ahnold has to do something about that. You should feel safe when having your Chicken Fried Steak and Eggs. That is just good living. Now, I am hungry and want some CF Steak and Eggs. Ahhhhhhhhh! The drool is dribbling down my chin. Ciao and have a great weekend!
I just read that there was ANOTHER shooting and killing in a Southern California Denny's today. Apparently, that is the third one this week. What the fuck is up with that? What the hell did Denny's do to deserve that? I have not forgotten the racism issue of the mid 90s but I thought that was behind them. Who would want to shoot people in Denny's? I mean Denny's is good. It is where I had, and continue to have, Chicken Fried Steak and Eggs. Again, I thank Willie for introducing me to that. Of course, my hardening arteries may not be so happy, but fuck them, stroke me out (that is a great double entendre)
I can see people opening fire inside a McDonalds, Burger King or even Wendy's. I can see that. They are especially anger and psychosis inducing places to be, but Denny's? A cup of coffee, some chicken, or country, fried steak and eggs, hash browns, toast and perhaps a side of grits, what can make you angry? I just do not get it. Even the Super Bird is a good sangwich. I know that they tend to put cheese and/or bacon on all their sandwiches but that is no reason to shoot up the place and the people eating there.
I say that about McDonalds because of the film of Yecch! that gets left in your mouth whenever you eat anything there. It used to be that the coffee left that same film. Then it became that the coffee was the only thing that could remove the film. Or was the coffee so vile that it made you forget about the film but focus on the bad taste it left in your mouth. Anyway, the coffee has improved, I am told, so now it is still the film thing you are left with and that cannot be good for anyone.
Well, dwell on that a bit and wonder why shoot at Denny's, three times in a week no less, in Southern California. Governor Ahnold has to do something about that. You should feel safe when having your Chicken Fried Steak and Eggs. That is just good living. Now, I am hungry and want some CF Steak and Eggs. Ahhhhhhhhh! The drool is dribbling down my chin. Ciao and have a great weekend!
Thursday, March 16, 2006
What is the meaning of this?
I am back. I had an interesting experience, or so I say, yesterday. I was in the car and twice during the day, at different times, on different stations, I heard a couple of Asia songs. They were the only two "hits" that I can think of from 1982, "Only Time Will Tell" and the other one from the first album. Damn, I cannot remember the title of the song, nor can I even hear it in my head, though I can hear "Only Time Will Tell", this is so annoying.
Anyway, I am unsure what it all means. The Budhists and Kabalists among us would say that there are no coincidences. It is synchronicity at work, but what is the meaning? Is it a portend of doom, I mean it is Asia, self-indulgent pseudo-art rock by an over-hyped "super" group of prog-rock refugees (John Whetton-King Crimson, Carl Palmer-ELP, Steve Howe-Yes and the other dude) or is the sign of good things because it brings me back to the early 80s. The early to mid 80s were not necessarily better but I was young or younger, which could be good.
I need help on this one. Anybody! Throw me a lifeline here! Anybody, if you can recall the other Asia song that had a lot of airplay back in 1982, please drop me a line, it is now driving me insane and sadly, I did not have far to go. Ciao!
Anyway, I am unsure what it all means. The Budhists and Kabalists among us would say that there are no coincidences. It is synchronicity at work, but what is the meaning? Is it a portend of doom, I mean it is Asia, self-indulgent pseudo-art rock by an over-hyped "super" group of prog-rock refugees (John Whetton-King Crimson, Carl Palmer-ELP, Steve Howe-Yes and the other dude) or is the sign of good things because it brings me back to the early 80s. The early to mid 80s were not necessarily better but I was young or younger, which could be good.
I need help on this one. Anybody! Throw me a lifeline here! Anybody, if you can recall the other Asia song that had a lot of airplay back in 1982, please drop me a line, it is now driving me insane and sadly, I did not have far to go. Ciao!
Friday, March 10, 2006
Let us repeat yesterday though it is a new day
I am back. Something screwy happened yesterday and it as if I did not post. That may be too bad because it was at least interesting. Of course, that is me judging myself, so you can be sure that it objective. I am going to repost it as I seem to have "lost" my archives. So much good material potentially down the drain. I cannot let that happen. Besides, I have not much new that is funny today. Though there is a dead rat on my neighbor's lawn and I had NOTHING to do with it. If you think that I did, prove it.
Well, all seems to be forgiven between technology and myself as things are fixed, so disregard most of the first paragraph. I do not have to repost yesterday's stuff since it is there. Whoopie!
Enjoy it and have a great weekend. Ciao!
Well, all seems to be forgiven between technology and myself as things are fixed, so disregard most of the first paragraph. I do not have to repost yesterday's stuff since it is there. Whoopie!
Enjoy it and have a great weekend. Ciao!
Thursday, March 09, 2006
Of Saturn and anal probes
I am back. Well the Cassini probe, which does not sound good, I know. It puts me in the mind of alien probes and you know those are always anal probes. Why is that these beings from other planets come down to Earth, pick up in-breeder/hillbilly specimens, bring them up to the space ship and then give them the old anal probe? Why is always the inbreeders and country bumpkins having the shiny, big headed dudes sticking stuff up their asses?
I have not heard of any urban types getting the old alien anal probe. If this were happening, there would be some hip-hop rap about it. I have not heard Kanye West rapping about alien anal probes, or any anal probes for that matter. Ever wonder why that is? It now has me wondering. It really is obvious that I have too much time on my hands when I can ponder such things, but somebody has to do it. It is a gift and a curse but I share it with you all willingly. I am that magnanimous a human being.
As such, you do not have to worry about me coming down in my space and probing your anus, unless...........
Anyway, the Cassini probe was sent to Saturn and is probing some of its moons. It has found water on Enceladus. There is also a hot spot at its south pole. Of course, the water is near the surface of some ice. Not unlike Jupiter's moon, Europa, that has water under a thick casing of ice. This is the stuff that could support life as we know it. This is exciting. Then again, I am not sure that it is really cost effective to start sending people to Saturn for a skate on Enceladus. Not too mention, it is mother fucking cold that far from the sun. That is just me, of course.
I guess with enough polar fleece and every inch of your body covered, it may be refreshing. That is life on the third rock from the sun. Life is much different on a moon by the sixth rock from the sun, the one with all them purdy rings. Damn, I have gone hillbilly again. Cue up the banjo from Deliverance..........
That is all for today. Hope you enjoyed it. Ciao.
I have not heard of any urban types getting the old alien anal probe. If this were happening, there would be some hip-hop rap about it. I have not heard Kanye West rapping about alien anal probes, or any anal probes for that matter. Ever wonder why that is? It now has me wondering. It really is obvious that I have too much time on my hands when I can ponder such things, but somebody has to do it. It is a gift and a curse but I share it with you all willingly. I am that magnanimous a human being.
As such, you do not have to worry about me coming down in my space and probing your anus, unless...........
Anyway, the Cassini probe was sent to Saturn and is probing some of its moons. It has found water on Enceladus. There is also a hot spot at its south pole. Of course, the water is near the surface of some ice. Not unlike Jupiter's moon, Europa, that has water under a thick casing of ice. This is the stuff that could support life as we know it. This is exciting. Then again, I am not sure that it is really cost effective to start sending people to Saturn for a skate on Enceladus. Not too mention, it is mother fucking cold that far from the sun. That is just me, of course.
I guess with enough polar fleece and every inch of your body covered, it may be refreshing. That is life on the third rock from the sun. Life is much different on a moon by the sixth rock from the sun, the one with all them purdy rings. Damn, I have gone hillbilly again. Cue up the banjo from Deliverance..........
That is all for today. Hope you enjoyed it. Ciao.
Tuesday, March 07, 2006
I smell a rat
I am back. I think the today's title says it all, don't you? I do smell a rat, but it is the smell of a dead and decaying one. Ahhhh, the good news and bad news scenario. Ding dong the critter's dead! Now, it just stinks. I put out one of those odor absorbing sponges so it is much better. I almost puked when I brushed my teeth this morning. I lean to spit into the sink and I am hit with dead rat stink.
As an aside, it is still a toss up as to what is worse, Stinky Guy stink or decaying dead critter stink. The sponge thing seems to be doing the job of masking it so Stinky Guy wins, or is that loses.
That is all, just wanted to update all two of you out there. Ciao!
As an aside, it is still a toss up as to what is worse, Stinky Guy stink or decaying dead critter stink. The sponge thing seems to be doing the job of masking it so Stinky Guy wins, or is that loses.
That is all, just wanted to update all two of you out there. Ciao!
Monday, March 06, 2006
Ahhhhh, the unmistakable scent of death
I am back. My nose is telling me that the critter, and I REALLY hope it is the only or last one, is dead. There is that stench of rotting garbage. It is most pronounced in the cupboard under the sink in the basement bathroom.
I say it is done because the poison has not been eaten since about Friday. It did take four or five days just like the package said. I cleaned up in the squat closet yesterday. I found the two "lost" plates as well as more blue droppings. At least, the other critter had the "good" sense to die where I could get the body and remove it. This one may linger.
Anybody out there have any suggestions as to how I can get rid of the thing, short of ripping up dry wall, replacing it, taping it, priming it, painting it and the rest of the basement. That is just too much work for me to contemplate right now. I am still traumatized by the whole thought of infestation.
My wife, who I have to say has been absolutely useless in this situation, has done her best to run scared at even the slightest sound. She has not seen these things. I have seen at least one dead one and one or two alive, in the house. I guess it is all a part of homeownership. I am thinking that I should send it to the bank. I mean with the mortgage, part of this critter must belong to them as well. Now, that would be funny, a dead and decaying critter as part of the mortgage payment. There would be some happy bank employees.
This whole thing was worse than any mice that I saw in my store back in the early 1990s. Mice squish so nicely under your shoes, so I am told. What I have here (had, please I hope and pray) scare the crap out of me. I am wondering if it was a guinea pig escapee. To me a rodent is a rodent. To quote Carl the Groundskeeper, the only good varmint poontang is dead varmint poontang. I stand by that as Carl knows from what he speaks.
That is all for today. Ciao!
I say it is done because the poison has not been eaten since about Friday. It did take four or five days just like the package said. I cleaned up in the squat closet yesterday. I found the two "lost" plates as well as more blue droppings. At least, the other critter had the "good" sense to die where I could get the body and remove it. This one may linger.
Anybody out there have any suggestions as to how I can get rid of the thing, short of ripping up dry wall, replacing it, taping it, priming it, painting it and the rest of the basement. That is just too much work for me to contemplate right now. I am still traumatized by the whole thought of infestation.
My wife, who I have to say has been absolutely useless in this situation, has done her best to run scared at even the slightest sound. She has not seen these things. I have seen at least one dead one and one or two alive, in the house. I guess it is all a part of homeownership. I am thinking that I should send it to the bank. I mean with the mortgage, part of this critter must belong to them as well. Now, that would be funny, a dead and decaying critter as part of the mortgage payment. There would be some happy bank employees.
This whole thing was worse than any mice that I saw in my store back in the early 1990s. Mice squish so nicely under your shoes, so I am told. What I have here (had, please I hope and pray) scare the crap out of me. I am wondering if it was a guinea pig escapee. To me a rodent is a rodent. To quote Carl the Groundskeeper, the only good varmint poontang is dead varmint poontang. I stand by that as Carl knows from what he speaks.
That is all for today. Ciao!
Friday, March 03, 2006
Am I a homophobe?
I am back. I will be brief. It is another Mayfair story. I was in the shower, naked. There are four shower heads per side. They have put low flow WaterPik shower massage heads in but had to replace half of them with higher pressured heads. They alternate them. I am using the high pressure head at the end and there are three shower heads all beside me. I am soaping up when this naked dude comes in and uses the low pressure head right beside me.
I have territory issues, I really do. I can understand using the shower next to a naked dude when it is the only one available. I cannot understand using the shower next to another naked guy when there is more "space" available. Maybe I am being a bit homophobic, but it kind of creeped me out. Thankfully, it is liquid soap, so there was no need for me to worry about dropping the soap and bending over to pick it up.
I mean that would be a fine how do you do. I bend over to pick up the soap and some guy tries to stuff his dick in my rectum. That would be enough to make me sing a high note.
It was an uncomfortable feeling, I will tell you. I am not sure what it says about me or about that nekkid dude. Oh well, I am home and chilled. It is time to start lubricating the brain with alcohol and lose another weekend to a hangover. Whooo HoooOOOOOO!!!!!! Ciao!
I have territory issues, I really do. I can understand using the shower next to a naked dude when it is the only one available. I cannot understand using the shower next to another naked guy when there is more "space" available. Maybe I am being a bit homophobic, but it kind of creeped me out. Thankfully, it is liquid soap, so there was no need for me to worry about dropping the soap and bending over to pick it up.
I mean that would be a fine how do you do. I bend over to pick up the soap and some guy tries to stuff his dick in my rectum. That would be enough to make me sing a high note.
It was an uncomfortable feeling, I will tell you. I am not sure what it says about me or about that nekkid dude. Oh well, I am home and chilled. It is time to start lubricating the brain with alcohol and lose another weekend to a hangover. Whooo HoooOOOOOO!!!!!! Ciao!
Thursday, March 02, 2006
The ongoing critter saga
I am back. I took yesterday off as I was drained, physically and emotionally. It is not what you think, which is way too bad (smutty minds, all of you). Anyway, I have the critter follow up to deal with today. Now, let me begin by saying I wish it were a mouse. The answer to Feb. 20th's personal trivia question as to my favorite Stranglers album, Rattus Norvegicus. That is what we have here, rattus norvegicus, I think it is neat that these Latin names are to be typed in italics, or Norway rat. How the fuckers got here from Norway, I do not know, nor do I care. I am thinking that it has something to do with that rat bastard Quisling.
As an aside, and a history lesson, Quisling was the leader of Norway who allied himself with Hitler and Nazi Germany in World War II, like Vichy France. At least the Danes, on the border with Germany, were occupied. Quisling sold his country out to the forces of evil. I agree it is a bit of a simplification but I do not have time for moral nuances here, right now. Call me and we can discuss the whole thing over some beers, vodka or Jaggermeister.
Anyway, I had not seen any evidence of the poison bait being eaten by the washing machine. I could hear something behind the front wall in the basement bathroom on Friday night, though. I was not pleased. I decided that I needed a more aggressive strategy. I would have to lay some bait/poison in the closet under the basement stairs. This is basically a door that closed in the stairs under the side door. It is uninsulated and smell musty, like a good, old basement should and does in these parts.
Now, I forgot to mention that my wife still thinks it is a mouse. She cannot bring herself to think otherwise. I, as is my wont, am too honest. I never say "mouse" and have been known to say "what makes you think it is a mouse?" to which I get that look of horror. You know that look on somebody's face when they really start to think of any and all possible, usually negative, possibilities.
Back to the story. I find a small, styrofoam dessert plate (I am so classy). I crush up the bait, put it on the plate and put it all on a plastic lid of some sort on a shelf in this closet, that contains coats (hanging), old boots and the luggage. Sunday, I go to check on it and it is all gone. I mean all gone, the bait and the plate. I am thinking what is this little fucker doing? Is there a family with which it is sharing? Why would it take the plate? Was the plate eaten as well? All these questions with no answers, since I was not crawling in there, besides there is not enough light to really see, so I had to use a flashlight to guide me.
I got another plate and put out more poison on Sunday. On Monday, I check and the bait is gone, presumably eaten, but the plate remains. I find the first plate on the floor, though and fish it out. I bait again on Tuesday. I start to use the flashlight only to find that there are some big droppings on the floor. I need more bait and get it. There are two feedings on Wednesday, though when I open the door Tuesday, I hear scurrying. I get the luggage out of there.
I open the door this morning only to find that the plate is gone along with the bait. On the plastic lid, though there are some rat turds. How pleasant is that? I give some more and decide I should clean some of the turds off the floor of the closet. I do that and find that some of those turds are blue. Either the poison is being eaten (I did mention it is blue and that there are no blue foods before) or this rat has one fucked up digestive system that turns his turds blue. I am not sure which of these alternatives is the more pleasing one for me.
Anyway, I lay a new plate out this morning. I open the door to check on things. The plate is gone again, but a big chunk of bait that I obviously did not crush well enough is on the shelf, just behind the plastic lid with rat turds on it. I am wondering if there is a family that is being fed. If so, that is good and bad. Bad, that there are more than one of them, but good in that the poison is being fed to them all.
The stuff says it is supposed to kill them in four or five days. This is day five of certain feedings, so I am thinking we are on death watch here. The only question that time will answer has to do with smell, the smell of death and rotting away. Oh well, one problem at a time.
That is the story for today, kids, stay tuned for the grisly and smelly conclusion. Ciao!
As an aside, and a history lesson, Quisling was the leader of Norway who allied himself with Hitler and Nazi Germany in World War II, like Vichy France. At least the Danes, on the border with Germany, were occupied. Quisling sold his country out to the forces of evil. I agree it is a bit of a simplification but I do not have time for moral nuances here, right now. Call me and we can discuss the whole thing over some beers, vodka or Jaggermeister.
Anyway, I had not seen any evidence of the poison bait being eaten by the washing machine. I could hear something behind the front wall in the basement bathroom on Friday night, though. I was not pleased. I decided that I needed a more aggressive strategy. I would have to lay some bait/poison in the closet under the basement stairs. This is basically a door that closed in the stairs under the side door. It is uninsulated and smell musty, like a good, old basement should and does in these parts.
Now, I forgot to mention that my wife still thinks it is a mouse. She cannot bring herself to think otherwise. I, as is my wont, am too honest. I never say "mouse" and have been known to say "what makes you think it is a mouse?" to which I get that look of horror. You know that look on somebody's face when they really start to think of any and all possible, usually negative, possibilities.
Back to the story. I find a small, styrofoam dessert plate (I am so classy). I crush up the bait, put it on the plate and put it all on a plastic lid of some sort on a shelf in this closet, that contains coats (hanging), old boots and the luggage. Sunday, I go to check on it and it is all gone. I mean all gone, the bait and the plate. I am thinking what is this little fucker doing? Is there a family with which it is sharing? Why would it take the plate? Was the plate eaten as well? All these questions with no answers, since I was not crawling in there, besides there is not enough light to really see, so I had to use a flashlight to guide me.
I got another plate and put out more poison on Sunday. On Monday, I check and the bait is gone, presumably eaten, but the plate remains. I find the first plate on the floor, though and fish it out. I bait again on Tuesday. I start to use the flashlight only to find that there are some big droppings on the floor. I need more bait and get it. There are two feedings on Wednesday, though when I open the door Tuesday, I hear scurrying. I get the luggage out of there.
I open the door this morning only to find that the plate is gone along with the bait. On the plastic lid, though there are some rat turds. How pleasant is that? I give some more and decide I should clean some of the turds off the floor of the closet. I do that and find that some of those turds are blue. Either the poison is being eaten (I did mention it is blue and that there are no blue foods before) or this rat has one fucked up digestive system that turns his turds blue. I am not sure which of these alternatives is the more pleasing one for me.
Anyway, I lay a new plate out this morning. I open the door to check on things. The plate is gone again, but a big chunk of bait that I obviously did not crush well enough is on the shelf, just behind the plastic lid with rat turds on it. I am wondering if there is a family that is being fed. If so, that is good and bad. Bad, that there are more than one of them, but good in that the poison is being fed to them all.
The stuff says it is supposed to kill them in four or five days. This is day five of certain feedings, so I am thinking we are on death watch here. The only question that time will answer has to do with smell, the smell of death and rotting away. Oh well, one problem at a time.
That is the story for today, kids, stay tuned for the grisly and smelly conclusion. Ciao!
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