The Halloween Post-now with more tricks than treats

I am back. It is Halloween for those of you without a sense of dates. I figure those pumpkins and spooky house decorations should be a giveaway, but no. I am sitting here eating some Dots. For those of you who do not know, Dots are a chewy fruit flavored candy made by Tootsie Roll. They are really ju-jubes and come in the red, yellow, green, orange and black colors with corresponding flavors. They are doing the job of ripping my fillings right out of my head.

That is a bad thing, but it may be good. It would cause me to get those amalgam fillings replaced. Then again, all it means is that the mercury in the amalgam has leached into my body. Which would explain my descent into madness. The phrase "mad as a hatter" was coined because hat makers of the time, would after time working on their hats, come across as quite insane. The funniest part is that they worked with mercury and their madness was a sign of mercury poisoning. I also have enjoyed lead based paint chips (with salsa or onion dip, of course). Those are some great brain foods, ranking right up there with fish (Omega 3 fatty acids).

That has taken me to some of my favorite Halloween crap. I try not to give out stuff that I like. That is why we usually go for chips. This way, I know for sure that I will not eat them before Halloween. I am looking forward to see the lad's haul this year. As he has gotten older, he is able to cover more ground and understands the concept of maximizing his haul. It has only taken me about four years of explaining for him to have caught on.

I like any not peanut butter chocolate. Reese Peanut Butter Cups and Reese's Pieces are out in my eyes. I like those Mars bars, Aero, Kit Kat, Caramilk and Crunchie candy bars. I enjoy Twizzlers and Nibs. That is about all, though. I have never been a fan of Rockets or salty things like chips and Hickory Sticks. Then again, I have always enjoyed an good apple with a razor blade in it. By the way, who would give out apples (these days or any days)?

This year the lad is going as Edvard Munch's "The Scream". How obscure is that! I love it! He is going to add a bit of culture (nothing wrong with depicting the haunting angst of modern life-see yesterday's post about starting my own cult, as to why these cults appear and "work"). It all started when that stolen Norwegian painting was recovered. It seemed like a good idea for a costume to me. He has a frame with neoprene. He justs sticks his head into the hole and he is the face of the screamer.

Just think, last year at this time, I was sitting in the cold. Our furnace had died, almost catching fire as it turned out, early the previous Saturday morning (Oct. 29th). My furnace guy was away for the weekend but came that Monday morning. I had the thing replaced and all was working and warming by Wednesday. It was colder in the house for Halloween than it was outside. That freaks me out but that is my reality.

With that said, I wish you all a safe and scary Halloween. Ciao!

What's a false prophet got to do to get a drink around here?

I am back. I did not return on Friday after all. Quelle surprise? Just let me get my bearings. Thursday was the Jehovah's Witnesses and the double blowjob and Friday was Englebert Humperdink having dry granny panties thrown his way, so what have I missed. Ah yes. If I were king.

Not king actually, but the Jehovah's Witnesses gave me a great idea. Actually, it is one that I have had before but they helped bring it back to the front of my mind. I should start a religious cult. That is the way to do things. I have it all thought out using the template of "old" cults and using technology. Let me preface this all by stating explicitly, "I am one sick fuck!". I can deal with it (can you?).

Here we go. There has always been one cult or another out there, picking up disciples, for as long as I can remember. I recall the Hare Krishnas in the 60s and 70s, Jim Jones, the Moonies, and those around the millenium (the one from Quebec-Rafaelites (?) and that one out near LA where they wore robes, Nikes and were waiting for UFOs to take them from Earth). These are all good ideas.

First off, I have to be in charge. It is the sociopath in me. I could do a great job preaching "the word" and I am quite certain that I could find me some lost souls. These lost souls exist everywhere as they are all seeking some sort of divine intervention to understand their life's purpose or meaning. Conventional religions do not necessarily reach these people. In a society like ours, that has rewarded immediate gratification, people want enlightenment and they want it now (just like Veruca Salt). That is just one of the empty promises I can make. I hate to break the news to y'all but enlightenment is anything but immediate gratification. You really do need to be able to accept enlightened thinking and that, in any conventional sense, is not easy for most people to do. It is damn hard given a lifetime of teaching and other social pressures to be able to rethink your relationship to yourself, others and world in general.

Anyway, there I am picking up lost souls, like some sort of low grade Grim Reaper. I like the use of Jim Jones-type of devotion to me. I was thinking that I could not be a cult follower (though I can picture people proseltyzing the "word of Dave"--"Dave is my prophet" I love the sound of it, especially the sense of familiarity, like you can be enlightened by a Dave, Bob, Steve, Bill, choose any shortened version of a name). I was thinking about those people in LA in the robes and Nikes waiting to be taken by the UFOs and recalled that a number of guys were castrated. Well, I do not give a shit, if "Dave" tells me I should have my balls cut off, "Dave" is going to get a swift kick in his. You may have my mind, but leave me with my balls, I have grown rather attached to them, thank you.

I do like the idea of castation if I am leader, though. It would give me pick of the female litter. In fact, like all good Sultans, nothing wrong with having a bunch of eunuchs working the harem for you. This way I have all that lost soul pussy to myself (I am shallow but I am not stupid and I can count).

Here is where it gets modern, though. I figure that after some manipulations of the mental variety, assume they are intellectually pliable and have fallen under my "spell". Damn, those Jehovah's Witnesses would characterize me as a false religion but I will show them. They would, of course, turn over their worldy possessions to me, er the cause of which I will have sole signing banking authority. So, I gots me some cash and stuff. I am thinking that I could get the lady devotees to dress in robes and stuff and then decree that they please me and each other. Break out the webcam, set up a website and sell subscriptions. There is a modern stream of revenue right there. I am sure I can do deeper there, too.

Of course, I realize the greatest downfalls. One is that this shit would come to a disasterous end, at least for somebody. I can see it get boring all that control. It would be good for a bit then the thrill would die as the sense of a challenge also faded. Besides, most of these cults have ended in suicide/murder-suicide, those the Unification Church of Rev. Moon still exists I believe, you just do not see the mass arranged marriages anymore. Am I in the mood to kill others and myself (ala Jim Jones)? Hell, no!

I am thinking that I would have to get the dying in order to move on, with the cash of course (a false prophet's got to eat, too). I could then recreate the movement in another place and time. Ohhhh, this idea keeps on working. It is like the stock market, just a grand experiment in human psychology.

I am liking the idea. Since I have shared it first with y'all, I have a proposition. Anybody want to sign on as early disciples? Tell you what, my friends, is anybody looking? I am willing to share. I am flexible on the castration thing for early disciples. In fact, you could become a full participant with "right hand" status (and no, I do not mean you get to give me handjobs, though, the door is not fully closed on that idea). What do you think? Care to take on the world with me? Think about it. Ciao!

Englebert Humperdink and Granny Panties

I am back. I am also early. This may be a two post day. I had an idea to build on yesterday's post that I would like to explore, but not right now. I was struck by something in the news, if I can call it that, and was compelled to get it down in the ethers. It is pretty funny but then again I always seem to crack myself up, so I am not a credible judge of my own humor.

I was reading that Englebert Humperdink, the English singer, who is 70 and still performs in Las Vegas still has women throw their panties at him (or is that to him or just give them to him). I am thinking that these ladies may risk having their brittle arm bones break if they try to throw their panties at/to him. Like Tom Jones, in their primes, ladies just "loved" the two crooners. In fact, they had the same manager, but Humperdink felt that he was being treated as Number 2 (not shit, but close) client, so he fired the manager.

In any event, I was thinking about how at 70, the ladies keep giving their panties to Englebert Humperdink (I think that I like the sound of his name...keep saying it to yourself and tell me it does not grow on you. Just keep repeating "Humperdink" and see where that gets you.). I am thinking that the size of the panties of (each one) has grown tremendously. He says that he has four generations of women at his show, but I just do not see the 70 year old singer dude getting a lot of skimpy, thongs tossed his way. I do see a lot of large "granny panties" coming his way. You know those ones, they are actually large enough to be used carry your groceries, notwithstanding the two large leg/thigh holes, obviously. You could use them as a hammock if you so chose.

Given their ages, you can be assured that the granny panties tossed his way are drier than the Sahara desert. Poor post-menopausal women just do not "lube" up like younger feminitas. Though, if the panties are a bit damp, my guess would be that it is not the moistness of excitement but a sign of incontinence. I do figure that dry granny panties, or even slightly urine damped granny panties, beats soiled Depends, though. Of course, that is just me.

Enjoy the early chuckle. I did. Ciao!

What if Opportunity Is a Jehovah's Witness?

I am back. I had a crazy thought. Actually, it was a number of crazy thoughts. At least, I am aware of them. It all started with a knock on the door. Idiot that I am, I answer it. Well, I espied two women at the door. With the municipal election going on here, I figured it was people canvassing for mayoral candidate. Ooops, my mistake. I see the color pamphlet in her hand and I do not even look up. It was the Jehovah's Witnesses (and to think that I never even saw the crime). She shoves the pamphlet in my hand and then they say "goodbye". No kiss, no pleasantries, no double blow job. Fucking Jehovah's Witnesses do not know how to close the sale!

So there I am with a raging hard on and marketing material from the Jehovah's Witnesses. No blow job. Damn, I did not know how difficult it was to write stories for Penthouse Forum! I wanted something different. I was tired of the same old story. "I never believed the stories in here were true. Until this happened to me. Let me describe myself. I am a junior at a small mid-western college........." I had a good one going there with me and two comely, Jehovah's Witnesses babes.

As I think about it, and read it, I am thinking that the Jehovah's Witnesses could save more souls with some new marketing material. I know that the color stuff they do is much better than "WatchTower" in black and white, but why stop there? In fact, they should go all out. Convert the souls, save the souls with .......sex. That sells and would really add some sizzle to the stuff they are giving away, presently.

I was handed "The End of False Religion Is Near!". According to this a "False Religion" "meddles in war and politics", "spreads false doctrine" and "tolerates immoral sex". As far as I am concerned with sex, the more immoral, the better it is (except for the sheep, goat or chicken). In the "How will false religion end?" section, there is a lot to be said about a harlot in dressed in purple, using incense and is extremely wealthy. She sounds good to me, but I may think twice if she has a hair lip, large scars or a moustache. The "True Religion" section is pretty much what you would expect, love, peace, family, high moral standards.

Yeah, I know, but where is the fun? I am not talking Dionyssian (a little to high brow a reference for this crowd? He was the Greek god of wine or the Greek party god) orgies, though, that would be a nice touch. I am still fantasizing about the Jehovah's Witnesses double blow job. Wow! That was a good one! Where was I....oh yeah, Dionyssus and orgies and Jehovah's Witnesses and double blow jobs. That is a religion I can hang my hat on.

Besides, Jehovah's Witnesses is the religion practiced by noted child diddler and resident of Bahrain, Michael Jackson. I am thinking he was doing a bit too much "love" preaching to the young'uns. Though, I do wonder if he was part of a double blow job. Sorry, I cannot get the image out of my head now. Me getting a double blow job from the Jehovah's Witnesses ladies while I am standing at the front door with it wide open. I am picturing what that would look like to somebody either walking or driving by the front of the house. Try explaining that one to the neighbors, cops, wife or condo corporation. Then again, as far as the males go, they would be in awe and jealous.

I am done but I may muse on this some more. Ciao!

Tacos, Street Meat and Socrates--What is the connection?

I am back. Sorry, I did not post yesterday, but it was just one of those things. I did see something that set me off this weekend, though. I was watching a commercial on television (I am not sure what was the bigger "mistake" watching television or actually watching the commercial). It was for Old El Paso Taco Shells. They have flattened the bottoms of the shells, making it easier to stuff the tacos. What a great idea, I thought.

Then reality hit. I hate fucking tacos! You have to put a tarp down when ever you eat those things. You bite them and the shell shatters, sending ground meat (I cannot say for sure what kind of meat it is, though), lettuce and crap falling to the floor. If you are unlucky, that crap hits your pants on the way down (Gravity is a bitch!) leaving a stain. Not just a stain, but a taco stinking stain. I am not sure if it is the cumin used, but it is that earthy, B.O. stink of a stain.

That is something nobody needs. Whose idea was this taco? There's a winner idea. Give me a hand held food that explodes and crumbles when you bite into it! The tacos are cheap but the dry cleaning bills are getting to be rather expensive. Fuck Taco Bell! Fuck them to hell!

Of course, there is one type of taco of which I am fond. The pink taco, which I have never had crumble when I ate. Explode, yes, but never crumble. Too much information? Well, at least I am not posting the details of the stomach flu.

I could say the same thing about street meat or street hot dogs. Of course, I cannot say that I was ever sober when eating them. They are the vestiges of the drunk and/or high guy who is feeling peckish. I load up the sauerkraut, mustard, hot peppers and onions (I figure that if I am eating this I have given up the hope of meeting some female companionship this night, so I do not care if my breath stinks. Besides, it just may mask the smell of the booze.) I take a bite and can only watch as the toppings fall out and down.

It is not pleasant watching mustard laced sauerkraut, hot peppers and chopped onions land on your shoes, or in my case, boots. Fuck that! Then I am left to wonder how I got the mustard stain on the bottom of my pants and why I have cabbage in my pant cuffs. Can you see Socrates wondering about that? I cannot.

There, I have done it. I have opened up the delusion where I compare myself to Socrates for all to see. The only real problem is that it may be an apt comparison. Of course, I am neither Greek nor dead. I can say with some confidence that at one point I will reach one of those states. I am not sure how I will be able to convince my friends and family that I am Greek, though.

I am done for today. Enjoy and ciao!

A weekend it was

I am back. It was one of those weekends around here. In fact, the greatest amount of excitement, or activity, was a trip to Costco. What a fucking life I lead! I would like to blame it all on the weather. Mid to late October (sun setting earlier/rising later) and gray and rainy. The bright side is that it is not November. That means, though it was damp and rainy, it was not overly cold. Those November rains, with the lack of daylight and colder temperatures, chill me to the bone.

That, of course, leads me somewhere else. I guess I would not be chilled to the bone if I had enough sense to wear pants in November. There is nothing like those cold November rains and winds to hit your balls and cause my scrotum to fold like an accordian and my testicles to high tail it into my abdomen (or throat, but that may be more of a February phenomenon). I should know better but there is nothing funny about knowing better. Of course, I am not sure that the neighbors see it that way, but if they do not like the view then they should just shut the blinds.

Sunday was a pisser. The lad had a birthday party that took him to the CN Tower. He had his normal height fear issues apparently. I have the same so I cannot blame him for that one. He did tell me that he was stuffed in the minivan drive down and there was no seat belt for him. I was not pleased, but nothing bad had occurred and I could not turn back time to deal with it, so I figured it was done. I told him not to tell his mother. She would get upset and do nothing but fret. Worry about what could have occurred, losing sight of the FACT, that nothing did occur. Besides, unless she could back in time, what good would telling her do?

What does he do? He tells her. Needless to say, I had a good yell at him. He did watch "Daredevil" in the van on the way down. I was pissed about that one. When we were in the Domincan, it was on television one night before he was going to bed. I was watching it, but he started to whinge about how the beginning was "scary". Instead of listening to me and seeing it so he could put the events into context, he just reacted like the wife. I had to listen to "he is scared" and turn the channel. I was pissed about that because again there was a larger picture that both of them failed to appreciated.

The wife does not like "Heroes". She finds it too violent. Again, no contextual examination on her part. I explained to her that it is like a comic book, at least a Marvel or DC comic that I recall as a kid (I loved Spiderman, Ironman, Daredevil and got into X-Men). They were dark and violent, but it was all about the obstacles and trials "good" had to endure to triumph over "evil". It is like life in that we all have obstacles to overcome in order to move forward. No big deal.

She claims that it is not "comic book" like. I then have to turn to her and say, "You read fucking Archie comics and Richie Rich! It is not like those and besides neither of those was even remotely funny! Read a Marvel comic and see what I mean." I got a grudging "maybe" and that was that. The good thing is that she has aerobics when it begins so I am well into the show when she comes home. She knows I will not change it, so she has to watch it. It is a good show and it sets up like a comic book.

It is a live action version of X-Men. The "powers" seem to be similar with different types of people having them. There is a teenage cheerleader who has the super healing power of Wolverine. She does not carry his emotional baggage (again read the comic, see the movies). I am always fascinated by these things because they all hit home. The sense of a greater purpose, powers, abilities and curses, grappling with a sense of self and societal alienation. Common themes in humanity, literature and teenagers. That is what Stan Lee spoke to back in the 60s when his most famous characters were "born".

That is all for today. I could go into a familial rant but I will not. Ciao!

Apparently, you do not have to be a man to stink at Mayfair. Or smelly enough for a man, but the Stink of a Woman (the one not starring Al Pacino)

I am back. Sorry, I have neglected the posting for a couple of days but I was uninspired. I need me a muse. Somebody who inspires me to be funny and write. I will be taking applications so send it along to whomever you think may be a good muse for me.

That bit of housekeeping out of the way, there is a new entrant into Mayfair's stinkiest member. Oddly enough, it is not Stinky Guy this time. It was some woman. Now, her smell may be worse. She is trying to mask her woman stink by dousing herself in some sort of perfume. I am thinking it is Eau de Make Me Want To Vomit Once My Lightheadedness Goes Away. I think it is the newest scent from Calvin Klein ("Ocean" did not sell that well but Tia was a great model for the magazine ad spread).

It gets better. I overhear her telling one of the fitness instructors/trainers who will be "working" with her, that she came from work and "felt" like she was dirty and smelled. I see, she feels "dirty and stinky" and chooses to try to mask by dousing herself with a perfume. I would love to say it smelled like and Airwick in a sewer but I could not get beyond the stink of the perfume. Strong enough for a man, but made for an elephant. A dainty fucking elephant, not to say this woman was or is an elephant but she may be prone to elephant stink, which is just fucking unnatural in ANY human being who has spent a life time exposed to indoor plumbing.

The galling thing about it is that Mayfair has showers. If she came from work and felt "dirty" and "smelly", she could have easily taken a short shower BEFORE she worked out. I know that is too much trouble and takes too much time. It is better to pull a fucking Pepe Le Pew and douse yourself with some artificial stink spray, that presumably smells nice if a reasonable amount is used, so as to bother anybody who is unfortunate enought to come within nose shot. Nothing like offending others because you are too fucking lazy, or dim, to take a fucking shower. If that is not the height of selfish, I am not sure what is. Hell, even I would not do something like that. If I think I stink, which I most certainly do not, I take fucking shower! It is not difficult!

That got me wondering about woman stink. I have had the mispleasure of smelling man stink (see Stinky Guy and his toxic gas cloud). I never see commercials with guys saying how they just do not feel "fresh". I guess it is not a male thing to want to feel "fresh". And how does a female not feel "fresh"? I am not sure, but I may have an inkling, what that is all about. I figure is you are not fresh or feeling fresh, again I am not sure what it is to "feel" fresh, then take a fucking shower/bath and quit telling me about your lack of freshness. I am not sure if covering up the problem, masking it with some sort of perfume, is the way to go.

Did this woman take a steaming dump beforehand? If so, take a shower. I mean there is no secret to it and they do not hide the showers at Mayfair. Of course, I have never been in the women's change area and shower, so I really have no first hand knowledge. But I have to figure
if there were no showers a lot of woman folk would have complained and I would have heard about that.

In any event, I am no longer near that smell so my head is no longer hurts each time I inhale. With that I should get ready for another crazy Friday night dinner with the outlaws. Have a fantastic weekend. Ciao!

Finally, I speak of NK Nukes

I am back. The world is an absurd place. That is all that I can say. Have you heard the North Korean response to the UN Security Council (security? This group could not work adequate security for a grade school presentation) sanctions in response to the NK's test of a nuclear bomb? They consider it, get this, a "declaration of war".

How fucking absurd is this? They go against world opinion and dire warnings from most of the world and test their nuclear device. In doing so, they make their one benefactor in the world, China, look feeble and ignorant. They embarrass the Chinese and in essence flip the world the finger. They do all this and then consider the repercussions a "declaration of war". I guess this is as opposed to starving their people, maintaining the worlds fourth largest army (which, by the way, has not seen ANY combat in over 50 years) and building and testing nukes contrary to the wishes of the world and their largest benefactor, but the Security Council's response is a "declaration of war"? Well, fuck it, let the fucking war begin.

If they want a war, then it seems to be that the present is the time to do it. Even with a million man army, they have no food. They may have 50 years of arms built up but then again they are old. If their missile test is anything to look at, their technology is rudimentary at best and very unreliable. They do run the risk of blowing themselves up as much as hitting their targets. There is no evidence that they can arm those missiles with nuclear warheads at this time, as well. I am thinking that the best worst case scenario is to go to war with them now.

I realize it is very easy for me to say from the safety of my home in North America. I may have a different opinion if I were living in China (would I know this whole thing was going on if I did?) or South Korea, and maybe Japan and Taiwan. Those first two would bear the brunt of a land war with refugees streaming in both directions. It is not "good" but can you let Kim Jong-il get stronger and more proficient with their nukes and missile technology?

The dude is like Dr. Strangelove or Blofeldt from SPECTRE (the good Bond films of the 60s). He cannot shoot straight and has a crude means of extortion, but it has worked until now. I am just thinking that with their "declaration of war" response, poetic justice may be a Tomahawk missile strike right up his ass. I think that would solve things in the short term. You would still have to "destroy" those high up underneath him as well. Then you have the issue of feeding his starving people. It is not a simple situation, there are too many moving parts.

Just look at the dude, though. That hair, those glasses. Would you buy a used nuclear warhear, er car, from this dude? Dig the suit and the look of being an egg on stilts. You have to love the chicken legs that "Great Leader" has. Look to the top of the post as I cannot figure out how to load the fucking picture where I want it. (I get what I pay for, obviously, but then again, I have a voice here, disembodied, but a voice nonetheless)



He has, along with his dead father, Kim Il Sung, have so isolated his country from the rest of the world, except China. They have nothing they can trade, save for rocks, and finished nukes. We can all thank that Pakistani "hero" A. Q. Khan for all this, as he sold the technology to the North Koreans (Iranians and Libyans, too). He is one great humanitarian, like the Muslim Oppenheimer, without the same sense of angst about the consequences. Knowledge without conscience is a dangerous thing. I will say they have done a better job as a father-son despot thing than the Duvaliers in Haiti, but of course, Haiti is an economic and political basket case and has been since the beginning of time.

The country does resemble what I imagined life would be like in Oceania in Orwell's "1984". I loved that book, having first read it in 1978 at the age of 14. That is why the whole thing strikes me as absurd. Dear Leader Kim Jong-il has studied Western movies. He has now taken on the character of the mad antagonist in a James Bond film, but better, he is fucking modern day Dr. Strangelove, without Peter Sellers charm. Fucking world we live! Then again, it beats the Black Death (good old plague days of the dark and middle ages, but of course, that is a rat story for another day).

I think this was a disjointed post and I hope the picture of Dear Leader appears. If it does not, then only one conclusion can be drawn, the North Koreans' have inflitrated my computer and none of us are safe, then again, none of us are truly safe. Warming and drying thought for this wet and rainy Tuesday. Ciao!

NK Nukes? Not today!

I am back. Again, I will not get into the NK Nukes, which makes it sound like a sports team (choose which ever sport you prefer, I will go with Basketball, but that is just me). It was an interesting weekend around these parts. We had a Bar Mitzvah. In and of itself, it would not be a big deal. This was. The Bar Mitzvah boy was a former neighbor of ours and whose younger brother is friends with the lad. The interesting part is that the kid, who was always a good kid, parents have split. His mother is Jewish, but that is in name only and his father is not Jewish.

I recall the house having a Christmas tree (and it was July, just kidding) when they lived here (moved around 2001, but not too far away, and then again around 2003 to Cedarvale and now still in the area as the parents have separate living places relatively nearby). He approached his mother about a Bar Mitzvah. I thought that to be rather interesting as it was a side of his heritage that had never been explored by his mother/parents. It was not necessarily discouraged either, but he pursued it.

Now, no synagogue would "have" them or teach him what he needed to learn. That is a pity. The Lubavitchers, old style wearers of the black hat (see them in their "homeland" of Brooklyn, NY) have a synagogue in midtown Toronto. They took him on and put on this Bar Mitzvah. It was small but very intimate and good. I got to carry the Torah around, where else can this happen for a religious skeptic like myself.

I am part of the team, though I have my questions that have never been adequately answered. I think my observations are quite apt. It is still the interpretation of man that gets me. I guess it is a matter of faith and I have a hard time having faith in the word of man. But that is me and I am a cynic, so....

I will not go into to details as they are rather mundane. Ask me and I will tell you personally. I just do not wish to go on the record with my comments on this one as they are not directed at the Bar Mitzvah boy and it was "his" day. Though the interesting thing about this event, and for those of you who do not know a Bar Mitzvah is where a Jewish boy of 13 reads from the Torah and is considered a man. The meaning is that at this point, a boy, or girl, is responsible for his/her actions at this point. Up to the Bar Mitzvah, it is all one big "do over" for the kids. They could go on a killing rampage (I would have brought up sex and a bacchanalian good time, but most of the "do over" time is spent as a prepubescent, so that stuff is just not in the cards) and it is like it did not happen (in the religious, retributive and karmic sense)(of course, tell that one to the victims and victims' families and you may get a different opinion). It is as if the Young Offender laws in this country were lifted out of Jewish tradition but they have raised the "do over" age to about 14-18 here.

Neat concept, huh? Anyway, I did want to say it was a Bar Mitzvah without pretense. It was driven by a young man's desire to embrace a heritage that was never offered to him. I commend this kid. As I said, I have known him since before he turned four. He was always a good kid, despite his mother, who is a fucking whack job. I am thinking that she may get a post or two in here in the future. But with that I say, ciao!

Welcome to post-nuclear laserium

I am back. I just do not feel the "North Korean Nukes" thing today. Damn, it was a pretty good rant going on in my brain. I am just not in the mood at this moment. Too bad. The nukes will still be there later, or will they? No matter. I am prepared for nuclear holocaust. I watched "The Day After" and "The Stand". I am prepared to be a mutant highwayman. I am hoping that my mutant powers will allow me to shoot lasers out of my eyes.

That would be cool. Of course, with some bad mojo, I could end up shooting lasers out of my ass. Picture it. I go to moon somebody (because as an adult, this is something I do all the time, there is nothing like the site of two "pressed hams" in the window of a car as it passes you) and they get a fucking laserium show. Cue the Pink Floyd music and watch the laser show coming out of my ass. I could sell tickets. Of course, with a nuclear holocaust I am not sure what kind of currency I could get for the tickets.

So there I am, shooting lasers out of my ass in some sort of post-nuclear world. That is quite the visual. I am thinking, though I could be wrong, that there would be a better visual if I were a female and did not have a hairy male ass. I mean who wants to see that? I can see wanting to see a hairless, curved pink ass shooting lasers.

If I did shoot lasers out of my ass, and was looking to perform, would I have go for that anal bleaching? Of course, I am wondering how many experts in anal bleaching would survive the blast(s). But if I am going to perform, I have to make my asshole look pretty, not necessarily inviting. I mean try to stick something up there and you are going to get lasered down. So Be fucking ware! This is still "every man for himself" place, so I will take you down for a cup of water and you do not know what I do to you for a beer or a bottle of vodka, but not that prison "toilet" alcohol, you can keep that shit for yourself.

I could go on but figure I will go out on a high. You do not get much higher than shooting lasers out of your ass in a post-nuclear world, do you? Have a great weekend and ciao!

North Korea Nukes give way to Busted Phone Lines

I am back. This was going to be my North Korean nukes rant. Fucking George W. Bush! That is something I find myself loathe to write, but he has brought this shit on himself. I hate writing that, but I have never been a GW Bush fan. I will go into it all later. Suffice it to say, something more immediate and trivial (in the grand scheme of things) has come up. Again, I want to reiterate, especially for those that know me, I am no raving liberal. I am a libertarian, if I had to politically label myself and believe in minimal government, so to bash Bush, George W Bush, is not something I do lightly. Unlike that cunt performer and whiner extraordinaire, Barbara Streisand.

But today my pet peeve is my fucking phone line. For the third time in three years, my phone line has gone dead. It all started in 2004, in January, when Bell fucking Canada (how many times will I use the word "fuck" today?) "gave" my phone number away. It was not like the number was new to me. I had had it since 1993. Then one Monday afternoon the phone goes dead. I call their service/technical/repair department and instead of getting right on my problem, they attempt to upsell me a warranty plan. Fuck that shit! I have a problem with a former monopoly's service and they try to upsell me! What the fuck is wrong with this picture? Anyway, the tech comes and it is a cold, snowy day. The problem is outside. He asks if I want to know the problem and tells me that they gave away my number. I was pissed.

Anyway, last year about this time of year, on a Saturday, the phone line again, goes dead. This time I have to call Rogers (I had since given Bell the fuck you by switching to Rogers or Sprint). They get a Bell tech to come out on the Sunday but the asshole does not come with the proper tools. Fucking incompetents and I cannot seem to get away from them. Rogers rents the lines from Bell, so Bell is charged with maintenance. After much screaming at both Bell and Rogers, they promise to send a tech out on the Monday evening/night. The dude arrives at about eight and has to put in a proper phone box on the outside. He clips the old outside wires and rewires a new lead into the house. He was a nice guy, so I have no issue with him and it worked after all was said and done.

Here we are a year later and again it happens. I do not know if it is outside or inside. My guess, considering all my jacks are out and I cannot get a dial tone in any of the ones I tried, is that it is an outside problem. At the very least it may be somewhere between the outside and the inside. In any event, I am pissed. It is really a trivial and minor inconvenience, what with cell phones, but still is it asking too fucking much to have the land line work as it is supposed to? I mean, fuck, they make the phone a neccisity instead of a luxury but can they get the thing to work without problems?

It is sad that I have chosen to comment on that piece of mundane life, but I figure the nukes can wait. They ain't going anywhere for a little while yet. Perhaps, I can chide the North Koreans to drop a nuke on us here. That way my telephone problem would be solved. I agree it would lead to other, and bigger, problems. Of course, I would not be around to have to deal with them, so....it works for me!

By the way, I believe the "fuck" count for this post was nine. Anyway, if anybody calls me and I do not answer, do not think me rude but I did not get the call or message. Ciao! Oh yeah, a congratulations to my buddy Neil (Dr. Neil) as he and his wife, his wife actually, gave birth to a baby girl on Monday afternoon. Ciao, again!

A Canadian Thanksgiving story

I am back. It was another Canadian Thanksgiving. Again, it coincides with a lot of life shit in my life, so it is always a great time to reflect on what has come and what may or will be. It is always wise to remember that there is always something for me to be thankful for in my life and I do give thanks for it all. You know if you focus on something you tend to get more of it. I like to focus on the positives in my life. If I focus on what I do not have, which is a lack, I will just end up with a greater sense of lacking things. I do not need that shit in my life and I will not invite it in.

Perspective in life is everything. Most occurrences are neutral and it is our perspective and perceptions that give meaning to them. You control that. Do not ever forget that. You can look at the negative or the positive or both even, but it is not a given. It is a choice.

That happy note is done with. The weekend was beautiful here. The house was much colder than being outside. I love that. I go outside to warm up. How fucked up is that? Yet, I choose that. I refuse to put on the heat in September. I know it is October, but the longer I can go with out firing up the furnace, the happier I am.

We did not go to the outlaws on Friday. I was my neice's 2nd birthday, so we had dinner with my family at my sister's place. It was nice. My neice, given Sunday's dinner, seems to finally be warming up to me. The baby nephew (brother's child) seems to like me. He smiles quite frequently when he looks at me, so obviously he is either laughing AT me or thinks that I look like some sort of clown. I may have to smack the little fucker for that. No way do I let a 5 month old get away with that shit. Then again, when the lad was that age, he puked all over my leather vest in GAP store in Buffalo. He then had a smile and a look on his face that said, "yeah, I puked on you. What are YOU going to do about it?"

I guess my revenge with the lad is to slowly torment him. That is life with Mr. Ambiguous in the household of the overly sarcastic male. That is his lot in life. He will have to make it whatever he sees fit to make it. The choice is all his. He can frame it in the positive, negative or even see all the facets of it (who says it has to be an either/or situation?). Good luck to him but I know he can handle it. It is his destiny.

Anyway, the outlaws came for a traditional Thanksgiving dinner here, farfalle and meatballs. It was good. There were oven roasted tomatoes which are superb. As usual, my mother in law complimented the food without tasting it. She did not even touch her tomatoes. Her being "nice" with the false and meaningless compliment was rather cruel. It is not as though her feedback on anything to do with food preparation is useful (eat dinner there once and you will see exactly what I mean) but I think I would be better served if she said nothing. The lying, no matter how inocuous, is just cruel coming from the land of denial and avoidance in which she resides. I am waiting for her to knit a chicken, then again she could not overcook it that way.

My father in law was in usual form. Eat by six and out of here by seven. I mean they were told to come at five but were here twenty minutes early. It is no big deal except invariably that is his excuse for wanting to leave early, how early he arrived. He cannot hold his water (really, with his enlarged prostate and the patience and comprehension of a two year old) so he hucks my mother in law to leave and she gives in. They arrive too early and he gets anxious to leave. In the end, I expected it and with the sun going down earlier now, the crazies rear themselves earlier, too. It is how he rushes my mother in law and how she puts up with it that makes me laugh. I would use the taser in a second. That, of course, is me and besides I do not have a father that I can zap.

I am now ranting about a crazy old man. I think we are coming up on the anniversary of him locking himself in the bathroom. I should get them a cake, but the wife would think that I am cruel (I am, but being a laugh whore, if it makes somebody, even me, laugh then it is justified). I am thinking that tomorrow will beget another nuclear arms rant. Of course, I am assuming that desperation and apathy do not rule overnight and we are all still around to write, or read, tomorrow. On that happy note, Ciao!

Maybe they should just rename it, SmellMart

I am back. I have found a renewed voice. All it took was some inspiration.....a trip to a WalMart. It was no ordinary WalMart but the one closest to me in the most convuluted of ways. It was an old Woolworth store in an older part of the city that is normally foreign to me. I am such a snob, but it is true. It is a blue collar area that may have become very ethnic but I have not got a clue to the ethnicity around here. I will say, once again, that is an ethnicity that obviously cannot smell itself, because there was a pungent (I am trying to be diplomatic) odor in the air.

This particular WalMart is rather close to my home, but it entails taking the back routes. These back routes, through industrial properties, is really quick but like traveling through a wormhole in space and ending up in another universe (that I would not have known existed). This strip mall has a pawn shop, Blockbuster Video and Beer Store, so how bad can it be? Pretty bad, but it is close. I had to deal with some traffic and did get some good tunes that kept me in reflection mode ("Blue Monday" by New Order and "You Dropped the Bomb on Me" by The Gap Band, good tunes of the early to mid '80s).

I get into the store and have to get some shit. Oddly enough, spinach was not among the things I wanted or needed. Anyway, I needed some Halloween candy and was wandering into an aisle when two women, together, took up both ends of the aisle. I was pissed as it was a bit obtuse. I mean, ladies, are you the only fucking people in the store? Then act like there are others around. Then I espied that one of these ladies had on a fanny pack. I was going to ask how that was working out for her. Fucking fanny packs, what is up those. I always see Adam Glaser, aka Seymour Butts, on Family Business wearing one with his muscle shirts. The dude has no fashion sense but he is in Southern California, making a bunch of money shooting porn (anal, ass to mouth and squirters being his genres of choice) so if that is the price one must pay, it is a small one.

From fanny packs, I go to combovers. I got to Mayfair and got to see an old dude fogging up the joint with hair spray. He was spraying his head so that he could combover his bald spot and the hair will stay. We all have to breath his toxic fumes so he can maintain the charade of having a full head of hair. The dude has to be in his 70s. Give up the ghost, man. It is gone and it ain't coming back. You can have your fucking vanity, but I should, nor anybody else, should have to breath it. If he were using Ron Popeil's Hair in a Can (GLH) it would be different. Then again, that was really spray paint with fibres in it. You painted over your bald spot and the fibres made it look like it was hair-ish. Given my recollection of the informercial, it was definitely more "ish" than hair.

Back to WalMart. I am waiting in line to pay for my purchases. Fuck, I hate queueing up, but queue up I did. I am next in line, when from behind, my nose is assaulted by a pungent, fuck that, a stink so heinous my eyes started to water. I looked behind me, half expecting to find Stinky Guy (he would have been out of place with his BMW, though). Then again, you don't have to cash, or credit, to stink to high hell (low hell, either). It did make me want to speed up the checkout that much more, though. I paid and stepped out into the fresh air. Life was good again.

I did actually look around the store this time. Big mistake. I said it was an old Woolworth's store. It is in a mature part of the city. It is fucking dingy and run down. It is a depressing way to shop, I have to say. I think next time I have to make the drive to the Stockyards. Then again, this time of year, in the past, was always punctuated by a trip by the Stockyards (when they were the Stockyards and cattle was loaded, slaughtered and processed at the meat packing plants that dotted the area. It has since been rezoned as residential and just a few of the meat packers remain, but the cattle train no longer stops there. My father seemed to enjoy driving us from synagogue on the High Holidays in the warm to hot temperatures, just so we got a whiff of the animal stench. That smell of impending death and cow shit, which is the only way to explain it.

Well, there you have it real smells, memories of smells (call President's Choice, I have a new sauce for them Memories of the Stockyards in September, great with beef, but it does stink but it is an earthy and organic stink--death and shit, not quite sex and candy), New Order and fanny packs, that is quite a week. Great long weekends to you all! Ciao!

Half a thought for the day

I am back. This Amish incident weighs heavily on my mind. The dude was loaded for bear. Beyond the ammo, he had the restraints and KY Jelly. I know why, I just do not know WHY? It is all too fucked up. Now, one of the Amish priests is saying that it was the "Amish 9/11". What the fuck!!??? Dude, I think you are overstating what occurred in your community. Call me crazy but this was not some orchestrated attack on the community. If he flew one of those Wright Brother era planes into a barn, perhaps, but not that travesty.

It had never occurred to me to bring KY Jelly with me when I went postal. Man, I have to plan that day better. There is so much to know and bring, I see. I always thought it was just guns and ammo. Maybe a Bowie knife, in case you have to gut someone. Now, I see there is lube, duct tape. This going postal is just getting too involved for me. You really have to be committed to it. I just do not have that kind of committment.

I have to run. Ciao!

"Get me a shotgun and shoot all the Amish I see"

I am back. I have been busy in a reflective sense. It was the Day of Atonement (Yom Kippur) yesterday. That can only mean one thing, for me at least, and that is reflection on life and death. I have been subconsciously consumed by death for a while (actually, I am thinking about 35 years or more, but that is a story for my analyst, if you can call him that, his name is Jack, Jack Daniels or is it Jim Beam, maybe he is more seafaring and is Captain Morgan, I digress). It is something about this time of year on both the Julian and Hebrew calendars.

Oh yeah, it all coincides with the death of my father, sixteen years ago. That is why this time of year puts me in reflective state of mind. Oh well, that is my burden to carry and not yours so let us get on with the show.

What is going on in the US? I mean school hostage takings, molestations, killings in Colorado, Wisconsin and Pennsylvania, what the fuck is up with that? The latest has my head spinning. It is the one in Pennsylvania, where the dude shot and killed 6 female Amish students. Who has a grudge against the Amish? They provide cool corn brooms and great porn, why shoot them? I just cannot understand that one.

I realize that I have not really read the news reports on this guy. I am in the dark here! (said in my best Al Pacino voice--Scent of a Woman). I think it is great that I give stage directions as I write. I have an idea, "Ravings of a Well Adjusted Madman"-the Musical, based on a blog by me. I have to start writing the music for that one. It could actually be a one man show, with me singing and dancing. There could be money in this, if I had the talent. Then again, when did lack of talent ever get in anybody's way. Carrot Top has a career.

Why would somebody shoot up the Amish female young'uns? Somebody explain that one to me. I can understand shooting up Jebidiah. I mean he cut you off with his damn buggy, then gave you the finger when you honked your horn. That is understandable, but the young'uns. What could they have ever done to you? They are so inbred that you would never really see them, unless you went to Pennsylvania Dutch country and partook in their pie baking, butter churning, barn building, buggy fucking ways. My head is shaking. I just cannot comprehend and sadly I comprehend much of human depravity (I may not partake, as it may or may not be my cup of tea, but I can comprehend and say "Enjoy that" or "How is that working for you" as your significant other runs the box grater along your genitals. There is a fine line between pleasure and pain, and stupid and clever, apparently). This I do not understand.

Damn voices! Ciao!