The Last Post for 2007

I am back. No talk of Pakistan today. Though, did you notice that Benazir Bhutto's 19 year old son was named head of the party that she was "President FOR LIFE" from. I do not trust the Pakistani government with the truth here, but neither do I trust the family or her party, either. I reserve judgment.

That is grist for another day.....at Hypocrite's Corner. Man, I am so sick of the phonies. This Holden Caulfield moment was brought to you by.....LIFE.

Enjoy the inherent bullshit of life and have a happy new year!

Ciao!

Would it really be so bad if the apes took over?

I am back. Actually, taken aback. All that talk from Pakistan. All the blame being meted out as to who is to "blame" for Benazir Bhutto's assassination (2 asses again). Blame Musharraf. Blame Al Qaeda. Blame the US for supporting Musharraf. So much blame to go around and so little time. I have not heard anybody saying that Bhutto, herself, or her political party bore any responsibility.

This was all inevitable. Her party spokesman did not say she had died but was "martyred". That is the big problem. Calling the act of a violent death "martyrdom". It can only be so if something good comes of it. Tell me, what good is going to come of this. It is the same old fucking story on the sub-continent. The names and "players" may change but the situation and outcome stays the same. Death and poverty and ignorance!

Fuck it all and blame Canada! Or start a jihad against stupidity and blind, ideological and theocratic obedience. I am not sure where any self respecting Lord views blind obedience and ignorance in his name as a virtue. I would think the skeptic would be preferred. Again, that is me, a thinking, sentient human being.

I am thinking that maybe the takeover by the apes may not be such a bad thing. I recall the "cute" chimp from Planet of the Apes (the remake with Helena Bonham Carter). I mean she was cute and all, but I am not so sure I could have gotten past all the body hair. That is my issue, but I like my woman smooth and as hairless as possible, with hair on her head of course, a white woman with a shaved head is just freakish. Then again, the use of wigs, could spice up the look, too, so I will keep an open mind to that.

I think I may be scrapping the bottom of the barrel as I muse on man-monkey love. As I think about that, I am finding myself kind of disturbed by my own imagination. Given a monkey's feral ways, I am not too sure that I would want to consider a blowjob given by a monkey or chimp. That is one "banana" I do not want something to try to bite a chuck out of.

I will leave you with that one for a while. Have a good one. Ciao!

The Prophecy Is Coming True

I am back. Well, I see that Benazir Bhutto was assassinated (that is a pretty funny word, too. It has TWO "ass"es, which is four buttocks, which is pretty funny, if you think about it) today. The prophecy has been fulfilled (I am into this "prophecy" shit a bit too much lately, but it is true).

This is sad but far from shocking. It was only a matter of time. Her father was hanged, her brothers assassinated, she was nearly blown up when she came back "home" to rescue her country....her lawless, poor with nukes, failing state of a country.

World leaders have condemned the killing. A glorious show of outrage is what it is. Of course, they condemn it. If it can happen to her, it can happen to them. Then again, how many of them, world leaders, are living and vieing to govern......anarchy. Actually, it is worse than anarchy because the snakes are living amongst the rats.......cannot trust either or any..........the trap is set and it is back to Sodom and Gammorah, well without the sodomy and really without that, what is the point. If you are condemned for your sins, they may as well be as hedonistic as possible. Go out in pain but with a smile and your balls empty.

To any female readers (doubtful, they have much better taste than to be here), I apologize for the last comment. As empathetic as I am, and I am a hyperempath, I just do not understand the mechanism of female orgasm. I know it exists, I just do not know how to comprehend "how" it feels, physically. Then again, the silver lining in that cloud for me, is that I do not understand the pain of childbirth, either. So I am missing the pleasure and the pain, which is the whole.....How fucking deep is that?!!!

Well, back to the present. You see all this shit happening in Pakistan. Where is Pakistan? Immediately west of India. What is happening in India? Monkeys are attacking people. Well, the Pakistanis are obviously paving the way for the apes to take over. They are obviously giving up and trying to curry (funny term when talking about India) favor with our simian soon-to-be overlords. The Planet of the Apes prophecy is upon us. Mark my words!

Ciao!

The Prophecy May Be Coming True

I am back. I hope you all had a wonderful Christmas, whether you celebrate or not. The prophecy has been foretold and so it begins......by the way AMC is running a Planet of the Apes marathon (all five original movies on New Years Eve Day or New Years Day, not sure which).

The prophecy of the Planet of the Apes foretold the story of a future Earth where man was "overturned" and enslaved by apes. Well, in India, the monkeys have started attacking. Apparently, in India, monkeys are considered sacred (along with cows and just about every other animal except Muslims and Untouchables....go figure, how man, or certain men, rank lower on their evolutionary scale than cows and monkeys). People feed them, so they have become quite aggressive especially near Delhi. Anyway, even the deputy mayor was attacked and killed by monkeys there.

See, the monkeys have started the rebellion. We have to put them, well, they since I do not see any self-respecting monkey coming to Canada and doing that shit here. I mean, one good cold snap, frozen metal, monkey scrotum and balls getting stuck to frozen metal, monkey looks to get the hell out of the cold (after figuring out a way to unstick his nuts from the metal). So, myself, where I am, I am not really concerned for my own safety here. That is why India is ground zero.

Anyway, monkeys are attacking but the humans are too afraid to put them in their place. They are monkeys for crying out loud. Throw some feces at them, they understand that shit, pun intended. The future is writ large, if only the Indians will heed it. They have to put an end to it now or someday soon, somebody will be heard to exclaim "Get your filthy paws off of me, you damned dirty ape!"

Happy Boxing Day for those so inclined. Keep an eye out for monkeys if you dare brave the shopping, and shooting if in downtown Toronto, crowds. Ciao!

Funky (c)old man Stink!

I am back. Actually, this is a follow up to the posting of the other day when I compared old men to babies. It is kind of funny.

FIL is to be out of the hospital and off to the home tomorrow. The Wife swung by the condo to pick up some of his personal effects, clothes and other belongings of his. No problem. She loads the car with them.

I have to run some errands and find myself in our car, not the fucking Beast. I am driving with FIL's stuff in the car and start to wonder what is that strange, funky odor I am smelling in the car. I cannot place it, but something sure smells, and it isn't good.

I look around and see FIL's belongings and clothing. Then, I am struck with the answer. FIL's stuff is what is stinking up the car. The car is now full of "Old Man Stink".

My car smelled like funky, old man stink! Blahhh!

I have not been in the car today and the Wife did unload his stuff, but I wonder if the funk remains. I do not know how long I can drive with that old man stink permeating my very being. Blahhh!!!! I need a shower just thinking of it.

Ciao!

Not much to say, but I will say it anyway

I am back. What is this....three days in a row? four? I really should look. But then again, does it really matter? All that matters is that I am back. I could even be all the way back, but let's see how the holidays go for that to be sure.

Funny, though it is not funny, I do not have much to say today.

Is it just me or is there a "small dick" problem in this world? Given all the spam emails I have been getting lately, I think there is a real "small dick" problem. I wonder if there is anything that can be done about it, besides sending me spam. I mean, why waste my time? I do not care. I am happy with my dick. I have grown attached to it, or it to me. We get along just fine. He does his thing and I do mine and we are happy that way.

Just thought I would share that with y'all. Ciao!

Babies vs Old Men

I am back. This will be short. I noticed something about FIL yesterday. I realized he is like an infant. Well, with an infant, you do get things in miniature, cute and that new baby smell, which is always nice. With FIL, you have have paunchy, flabby, liver spots and other marring features and old man stink.

On second thought, he is more like an infant from hell. Take away the good stuff and this is what you are left with....old man stink.

Sad but true and it can happen to you. Live fast! Die young! That is my new motto and mantra for 2008. We can now take odds on whether I will survive the year! Woohoo!

Ciao!

FIL ride, er slides, again

I am back. I did not post yesterday and I do not know why. Be that as it may, I am back. Well, I have had quite the day. All was going well, well except for a tire issue that I let fester. Little did I know, when FIL gave up the car (had it taken from his demented fingers, or the keys at least) he had put snow tires on the front wheels. That now explains the all season tires in the trunk. Anyway, we have had the beast since February of 2006, so I have been using those damn snow tires through the summers of 06 and 07.

Anyway, one of the tires has been getting flat. Because of the softness of the rubber in snow tires, the fucking thing started to split. I had meant to take it in and at least get the tire switched to one in the trunk. Today, the urgency grew.

I get a call around two thirty from the Wife to go see FIL. Apparently, he "fell" out of the wheelchair and they could not get him back up. An ambulance had been called. I arrive, notice the tire looks like it could go at any minute, but run up to the unit. The ambulance is already there. FIL is back up in the wheelchair, belted in.

The paramedics learned a valuable lesson. FIL is a pain in the ass. He had slid, slowly no doubt, out of the wheelchair on to the hardwood floor. The paramedics had a bitch of time getting him up, what with his general uselessness in such manners (I told you before, it is dead weight and like college cops having to clear students from a sit in, without the sense of a cause) and the slidy factor of the hardwood floor.

They got him up eventually, into the chair, and buckled him in. He undid the belt. They did it back up. He undid the belt. This went on until one of the paramedics got smart and did the belt up under his shirt. To get to it, he would have to look and work......things that he never had to do when MIL was around, so he does not possess those skills.

The paramedics asked me what they should do. They had checked his vital signs and all was "normal". I thought they should check them again if they thought there was anything "normal" about FIL. Anyway, I sent them on their way since there is no point in taking him to an ER. This has been done to death. Of course, they could have taken him outside and tossed him under a bus, but he would have liked that and would not have to have done anything for it, so not a good idea.

I think my mother is right. I am cruel. Then again, it is all in how you judge cruel and all those who sail in her.

I went back but could tell the tire was going to die at any time. I had wanted to get to my mechanics near my home. I am driving and the steering is getting strange and I am hearing a strange noise. The tire had died. Forunately, all I had to do was get down a steep, snowy hill and I would hit a gas station parking lot to pull over in. I did. Called CAA and they put on the donut. I drove to my mechanics who charged me $20 to change the tire and sent me on my way.

All in all, it could have been much worse. So, now I drive the beast with one snow tire and three all season tires on it. The next snow fall will be fun. I do have to say that the car was pretty good in the few snowstorms, and their aftermath, in which I drove the Beast.

To top things off, FIL has shingles. Now, the Wife is worried that we may have to delay FIL's move into the home. Sadly, I think his time has come (in some ways not soon enough) and it will be soon. He has completely given up and is no help at all in his own existence. Yet, he is still eating, so he is fueling himself up and could outlive us all. All on the basis of obliviousness.

The best part is this, his youngest sister, the Wife's completely narcissistic, idiot aunt, who felt it in good taste to show pictures of her daughter's wedding and grandchildren to anybody unlucky enough to have to listen to her at MIL's shiva (somehow a time of rememberance of the departed, MIL, became all about her) is away on a cruise while her brother is going to a home. Nobody around these parts could stand to her wail "My big brother! You can't put him in a home." again. The obvious solution to that would have been, "You do not want that, then you can have him live with you." Let's see her put her money where he mouth is. That will never happen.

That is all for now. Keep digging out of the snow. We did get dumped something fierce this weekend. That was a lot of snow. The snow banks are now a good six feet high. I have not seen anything like that since I was in Winnipeg (in July, I might add....no February). The last time I recall that kind of accumulation around here was in early 1999 and that took a number of snowfalls in quick succession. Ciao!

Obama Mamas

I am back. Better late than never. This makes 3 days in a row, a modern day record. I have only one thing to say today. I caught Oprah at a Barack Obama rally over the weekend. It seems she has come out and endorsed him as her candidate for President of the United States.

As an aside, is it just me or has the whole election cycle in the US shortened to the point that a good year and half before the election, the process, the long and boring process, begins. It is just wrong and too long. It also does not lead to good leaders (see GWB).

Anyway, she has made Barack Obama her candidate and he hopes that many an Oprah-loving woman follows Oprah's lead. I am thinking that these voters could henceforth be known as "Obama Mamas". Therefore, any woman who votes for Barack Obama is now to be known as an Obama Mama.

There I wanted to coin a phrase and you are all my witnesses. Ciao!

My FIL stories may be coming to an end

I am back. Two days in a row! Pretty impressive.

This will be short and sweet. Unfortunately, it is another FIL post, but I think it is funny, in a sad and pathetic sort of way. We are putting FIL in a private home that can accommodate his needs (he needs a mother, really, or a nanny, which is sort of what he has now). Anyway, in the midst of all this he tells the caregiver, yesterday, to just shoot him and end it.

Now, that was a lucid moment! Then again, he has remained so consistent. Ever the dependent, he wants somebody else to do "for" him. Not the he is capable of doing himself in, but he WANTS somebody else to do it for him.

As I said, funny and sad all rolled into a neat little package.

Ciao! Enjoy the snowy eve.

More FIL fun!

I am back. Just an update. FIL is sliding. Apparently, he was rushed to the hospital yesterday because the doctor who did his blood work on Monday was unfamiliar with him and has freakish body. He saw the levels of kidney metabolites and thought he was in kidney failure.

I get a call from a crying Wife as to what she should do. Dialysis or no dialysis. My brother in law was leaning for dialysis. He wants to prolong his father's life as a blob. Here, live longer but you can do NOTHING productive with that time, unless you consider annoying those around you as productive (sometimes, I do, but that is just me and it is done with intent, not like it is with him).

Anyway, the Wife gets to the hospital and they compare the levels of Monday with those in August, when had that stay in the hospital, and they had not changed. He was at baseline, for him.

He also had been having difficulty walking. In fact, on Sunday he was apparently calling for MIL and screaming that he could not feel his legs. Of course, even before this he could not be counted on to articulate what he was feeling and where (this is the dude who after a hospital stay for his heart and stuff told people he was in for ptomaine poisoning--it was a "What-the-Fuck?!" moment for me. When I heard him say that, I had taken him down to his office and he saw the dudes next door, I just said "What the fuck?, what planet are you on? Whoever said anything about poisoning, let alone, ptomaine poisoning, when you were in the hospital?"

It is like an infant who is ill but cannot tell you what is wrong. Then again, he had MIL to do it all for him, so he never bothered to make that connection. Then again, it would be lost by now. Anyway, during his fall of two weeks ago, when I had to come at 5 am to lift him off the bathroom floor, he apparently broke two of his toes. That may explain the walking difficulty, though not so sure about not feeling his legs.

Personally, I would have flicked him in the forehead and ask if he felt that. But then again, I am cruel, as my mother keeps telling me. Anyway, he is back home and will be sent to a nice home. The Wife cannot take much more of this. She cannot grieve her mother's loss while she worries about his present.

Well, that was yesterday. It went from panic and the end is near to status quo and the end is still near, just not immediate. One day this will all end. Of course, the Wife, and her siblings, will be orphans. Then again, only the Wife will truly feel the loss, of her mother, as she was the closest to her.

That is all for now. Ciao!

WalMart, All of the Day and All of the Night!

I am back. It has been ten days and those days have been CRAZY, especially Monday through Wednesday. That, of course, is a story for another day. The point is that I am back and I hope to be more regular, both with my posting and moving my bowels. Who is kidding whom here, I have no trouble with the latter (more information than you wanted?).

I caught this radio ad the other night. It said that WalMart was open 24 hours, or at least selected locations, during the holiday season. Now there is something that I want to see. I go to WalMart during the light of day and I think it is a freakshow. Picture that in the dark of night or early morning. My mind is spinning.

Who the fuck knows what kind of freaks will be hanging in the aisles under those flourescent lights? In any event, I would not go unarmed (camera, notebook, taser) this shit has to be documented. I am thinking it could make for a great "human" hunting ground. Capture a freak, even digitally or on film. Now, that is a trophy. Chop off a head, stuff it and mount it over the fireplace. THAT is a conversation piece.

I am telling you. It will be like a veritable rogues gallery of villians, like they appeared in Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

The more I think about it. Again, I have never been up at three in the morning with a hankering to hit the WalMart, that is just me. I had enough trouble being there in the early evening (though it looked like night to me) in frigid (an understatement) Portage La Prairie, Manitoba in February. I just cannot imagine the freakshow that would appear at three in the morning this time of year.

Besides, do they really NEED to be open 24 hours? It is a bit of overkill as far as I see it. Midnight, maybe but 24 hours?????? How is Gus, the elderly (been dead for a year but nobody has been kind enough to inform him) greeter, supposed to stay awake? Does this mean Gus will be given speed. So now we have Gus the Speedfreak as the MC of the Freakshow! Thank you, WalMart. The world is now safe, well safer than the WalMart, because you have given these mutants a temporary home.

Chew on that one a while. Ciao.

The End of November

I am back. Since it is the last day of November and a friend once referred to November as "Death month", it is only appropriate that I comment. This friend was referring to his exams and workload in dental school. I recall hearing him say this on a rainy, dark November afternoon. I did agree with him and would find it much that way in law school. November was when the work began, the study prepartion for finals that were worth 100% of my marks. There was no social life, or real life, just exams, darkness, cold, damp and death.

Given the death of MIL, in November, it is appropriate. November is a funny month. Many a birthday connected to me this month, a couple of anniversaries (the Outlaws and my own) and now MIL's passing. Funny how this month has come and gone.

The final one was today I read that Evel Kneivel died at 69. All I want to know is this, are they going to try and shoot his coffin (or ashes) over Snake River Canyon? That would be poetic justice, indeed.

Have a super weekend and welcome December into your lives. Ciao!

Crotch--the word of the day

I am back. I hope to be back more often. Anyway, no chance to post most of this week. I was struck by something the other day. Do you know what word I find to be funny?

"Crotch".

Think about it......

Is that not a funny word? I hear it used and I have to giggle.

"Right in the crotch." Fucking funny.

"Crotch Rot". Funny and itchy.

Add puke to the mix and you have great comedy.

"I puked right in her crotch!" Is there a funnier sentence to be said? Well, of course, there is if it your crotch being puked on/in, but that is a matter for another life.

That is all I had to share with you. I hope you all have a great weekend. Ciao!

Just checking in

I am back. 10 days since my last post. I have much to say yet not much time, so I will leave it for later. The Wife is beginning to realize what has transpired. It is tough. Nothing I can do but be there as she has to face this and feel it on her own. It won't be easy but it will happen in time.

The shiva was interesting, to say the least. I started back to work part time on Tuesday. I would work to 3, head cross town to pick up the Lad from school, and then head to the shiva. When I walked in the door, it was officially cocktail time. I burned through most of the bottle of Scotch. Man, I am sick.

Well, in case I forget, a happy Thanksgiving to all my American friends out there, who may or may not be reading this. I am done for now. Ciao!

Heavy heart and much sadness

I am back. It has been quite the week. Work, visit, basketball, work, visit, then.....It is with great sadness I tell you all MIL passed away Thursday afternoon. The funeral is tomorrow. I am just so sad for the loss for me, the Wife and the Lad, not to mention all those around us.

I may go more into it all but the muse is certainly not chirping in my ear, so I am getting prepared to deal with a very sad and teary Wife. Ahhhhh, the bitter part of life.

I am just passing the news along here. I will say that this is the second time I got to be around to watch somebody die. I find the whole process, and it is a process, very fascinating. Then again, I am a sick fuck. Not sick in "fuck a corpse" sick, just morbidly curious or curiously morbid. It is not a disease and not catchy, but the sore on my testicles may be.

I will say this, MIL is no longer suffering. She is finally at peace. She went out the same as she lived her life.....worrying about others and things that she could not control. It is what it is. Ann, we will miss you!

Going to run. Ciao!

Halloween then and now

I am back. I even missed a week of posting. Miss me? It has been a busy week but nothing too bad to report. Things are where they are at right now. I had a Halloween thought to share, though.

It seems to me that the "dangers" of Halloween have grown since I was a child (well I am still a child, but that is a story for another day). I was thinking about this on Wednesday night.

In my day, the biggest danger was the old razor blade in an apple. Dangerous and disgusting with intent, but not apt to be fatal. The potential for a lot of blood, but not likely to hit a major artery. Of course, the intent to inflict pain and damage was there on the part of the giver. Then again, who the fuck gave out apples anyway. Being allergic to apples (I found that out at 14) and not one whoever liked raw apples in any event, I would chuck any apples I received for Halloween as a matter of course.

Today, you can give out candy bars with peanuts and without intending to cause harm, kill a child with peanut allergies. A kid could die from their Halloween candy and it would be wholly unintentional. How fucked up is that?????

I am not sure what is worse. I mean the Lad has no peanut allergy so there is no issue around these parts, but I think the change in dangers is fucked up,,,,or are we fucked up?

I will leave that for you to decide. Ciao!

Weekend sign off

I am back. Nothing new to report. MIL is still having trouble "resting". She is agitated and anxious as she worries about what will be with FIL and the rest of us. Sad thing to fret about. She has no control over it and can do nothing to make any changes or effect what she would like to see, yet she is spending her dying days, which is what they are, fretting over things she cannot nor could not control.

In fact, she did not control what she could control. The Wife learned this from her. It is better to waste time and worry about things you cannot control and not take ownership and control the things you can control. It is ass-backward as nothing gets done and all you end up with is a feeling of helplessness. There is a psychology experiment in there somewhere. Is there any way I could get the Outlaws, either one at a time or en masse, in a Skinner Box? That I would love to see/observe. It would be good for a giggle. The point would be lost on them, though.

I will go have dinner at the condo with FIL and family. It is going to be creepy being there without MIL and with FIL. I am actually going to miss her incessant chatter about nothing. As annoying as it was, and is, I am seeing it is better than the alternative.....the future without her in our lives. Sad, sad, sad. That is all there is to it.

I am going to have a drink when I walk in that door. That I can tell you. I can only handle FIL without MIL around that way. Then again, I will have to show him I am not his bitch yet again. My brother in law is obviously his bitch and will be until the end. Not my duty and I have not got that strong affinity towards him to do that. Either I am bad or principled, or both.

With that, I say have a nifty weekend one and all. Ciao!

Same crap, different day

I am back. Not much new to report on the "watch" front, which is good. Not much is a good thing. My brain is shot from disjointed sleeps. Having a sobbing woman beside me does not help. I really feel for the Wife. This is really hard on her. She is very close with her mother and very much like her (for good and bad, as you cannot have one without the other). My only concern is that the Wife has not learned from MIL's mistakes and will repeat them.

The Wife is an interesting combination of both MIL and FIL. They are not a curious bunch, yet love to ask "why". It is a loaded question. I believe that if you ask "why", then invariably you are not a point to understand "why", in which case any answer cannot be understood or accepted. It is a question asked by those whose mind is not open to the answers. They are looking for an answer they want or like, not the answer. Most often, the answer does not satisfy them as they will not accept the whole reality. They want to cleave off the parts they want and leave the dirt or costs for somebody else. I guess I am that somebody else.

FIL does not really count anymore. MIL was never curious enough to ask questions and actually listen for the answers. She was too afraid of offending, so she made up her own answers. All assumptions but never tested. The Wife does this too and then compounds it all by not letting go of the assumptions. This way, facts that do not fit the assumption are ignored and avoided. It becomes a circle jerk of illogic and no logic can penetrate that barrier.

Well, that is some insight into the psychological underpinnings of the Outlaws. Not an introspective bunch. Afraid of what they might find perhaps? It is always easier for them all to avoid and point out the obvious.

Speaking of which, the phone rings and the Lad tells me that the phone is ringing. "No shit, Sherlock!" I have to shake his hand and thank him for pointing that out to me. Where would I be in the world without all these people?

Ciao!

The next phase begins

I am back. I am bringing you along with me on this "Death Watch". Sadly, that is what it is. They have settled MIL in Palliative Care at Baycrest. It is just a matter of making her comfortable and time. Apparently, FIL slept through the night last night and did not disturb MIL.

How is that for irony? The die has been cast, he has played a role, and the outcome he could least afford to have is upon him. Then he goes and does what he could not do before....sleep and not disturb MIL while she slept and allow her to get a night's rest. If he did not have such diminished capacity to actually understand (he has no clue what year it is), I would kick him in the nuts.

It is sad but true. I guess I am not nice. I can afford to be that way as I could never see FIL as a father figure to me. I lost, man I am careless, a wonderful father (not perfect, he was pretty fucking far from that) 17 years ago. I carry the loss to this day. I cannot necessarily articulate the sense of it, but there is something missing. I guess I could try to fill that hole with alcohol or drugs....wait that is a great idea, be right back.

Well, that did not work, but it did feel good for a few minutes there. Anyway, what was I going on about...oh yeah, FIL. Yeah, he was never a father figure to me, and Lord knows, I could use one. He failed me there, but it was not his responsibility. Then again, I think he failed his own children in that as well.

I did not know it or notice at the early stages but he was never engaged with me, or his children, grandchildren, or any other relatives or people that I could tell. That was and is him. That said, in the early days, I had a hard time looking at him. I could only think he was giving me that "You are fucking my daughter?" look, but I was wrong. He avoided thinking about such things. I guess it was I that was giving him that "I am fucking your daughter, what are you gonna do about it?" look.

All I can say is I am thankful that I have a son and not a daughter because that would drive me crazy. I feel bad for each of my friends with daughters. Not that they had girls, which is lovely. It is that they will look at every guy their daughter brings home and wonder if he is fucking their little girl. Not a pleasant thought, if you are a father. You kind of hope that they are lesbians at that point (shades of Dennis Leary, Tommy Gavin, on Rescue Me).

That is all for today.

Is this the start of the death watch?

I am back. Just when I think I understand the Outlaws, things change. Maybe my problem is that I see things as they are and know the outcome of any course of action, or inaction, they take. It always ends the same way because the only strategy employed is hope. Hope is not a strategy.

Anyway, the latest, which is in many ways the most convenient for us, is that MIL is going into palliative care at a hospital nearby us. It is part of the same geriatric center where FIL has his "club". Club is funny as it activities shared by like minded, or lost minded, people. This is just another reason why I have often found myself living the Groucho Marx line of "never wanting to belong to a club that would have somebody like me for a member". This "club" of my FIL's is further proof of my not wanting to belong to that club.

Anyway, as much as my MIL would like to be at home, she cannot. FIL is impossible at night and keeps disturbing her. The hospital bed in the other room for my MIL was a good start. Some physical separation may let her get some rest and leave her less weary. FIL has a way of screwing up those plans because nobody factors in the fact that he does not listen and is DEMENTED. He is like a toddler without the cuteness. He walks like a toddler, too, so you never know when he will fall while walking.

The solution always seemed to me to be twofold. Sedate him and restrain him. I am not sure the restraints are a good idea, but he NEEDS to be sedated through the night. It may not be so much for him as it is for the care giver. Then again, if she cannot put up with him, then he is fucked. So, it really is for his own good, ultimately.

It is funny that I had asked the question of what if he outlives her. That scenario is upon us and I knew it as a possible outcome. The whole next step will be very interesting. The status quo is what it is. At least, with MIL close by, visiting will be easy for the Wife and we can get there quickly if the need arises.

Blah! I wish I had happier news or thoughts to report but this is front and center in my life right now. This is the way it is right now and it will change. In that change, will be opportunity, so I am alert, or alert as somebody can be when waking up at five in the morning to talk the Wife from the proverbial anxiety ledge. There is an upside to being laid back and removed from one's own life.

Well, I hope y'all had nice weekends (fucking awesome weather in these parts). Ciao!

Who's your bitch?

I am back. I could not post on Friday. Ran into a bit of an emergency. Mother in law (MIL) took a bit of a turn. I had to pick up the Lad from school, so my day was cut short. MIL is okay but they have gone to make her comfortable. That is palliative care. She has all the pain meds she needs and is not in any pain. Sleeping the time away, but not in pain.

Dinner at the Outlaws on Friday was a real treat. MIL sleeping in bed, pre-morphine drip. Father in law (FIL) tries to put his uneaten chicken on my plate. Chicken on his fork, which as I think about it, was in his mouth. Ewwwww! Fuck that!!

Anyway, he turns his germy chicken fork with the piece of bird he wants to unload, towards my plate. I look him square in the eye and say, "Don't you dare! You have been told to leave it on your plate, so put it back on your plate." He backs off so quickly. It was beautiful. He would eventually put it on my brother in law's plate. I do not care about that. I am not his bitch! His son is obviously his bitch.

I will not hold his piss bucket. I am not his bitch. I held my dad's piss bucket, did it well, actually. I was his bitch. I am not my FIL's bitch. His son is his bitch and I will not stop that.

Happy thoughts and ciao!

Forever Ducky

I am back. I am not one for CBS sitcoms. I was thinking about "Two and a Half Men" the other day. I started to think of Jon Cryer. Recall back in the 80s he was the poor man's Matthew Broderick. Where Matthew Broderick got choice roles, WarGames, Ferris Beuller's Day Off, etc. Jon Cryer got "Max Duggan Returns". He got the shit end of things.

Think about it. Even when he got to work for John Hughes and then star, Molly Ringwald, he did not get the leading role. He got the 2nd banana, possibly gay, but certainly uncool friend part. He will forever be known as Ducky from "Pretty in Pink".

I was thinking of putting that cast in the "where are they now" file. Where is Molly Ringwald? What about Andrew Dice Clay? Andrew McCarthy? Okay, James Spader and Jon Cryer got TV jobs. But where the fuck are they now?????

Even when both Cryer and Broderick worked with John Hughes, it was Matthew Broderick that got the cool role. The hero, the righteous dude. Not Cryer. He got to be Ducky.

Now, he gets to work with Charlie Sheen, who at least got to play a "hood" in Ferris Beuller. Funny how things work. Then again, Jon Cryer could be Andrew McCarthy? Ain't that sad?

Ciao!

Thursday and Friday Night Funnies

I am back. I have to say this, not about the weekend that was, as that was stressful in a way, but Thursday night I was out with some of the old Frat boys. It was rather fun. Willie was in fine form, as usual. WO was waiting as he had to venture south, though we were decidedly midtown.

We went to the Miller Tavern. I had not been there since the place was renovated and turned into a more upscale establishment. The last time I was there was in the mid 80s and it was the Jolly Miller, a rat hole place to drink, drink, drink until you stink, stink, stink. The beer was cheap and flowed. It had to, so that it could be used to dilute the puke and piss that was on the floor. Well, it was dark and I am only going by memory of the smells of the place. It was kind of a scary place to be, without being downtown. Skiddly, as well. It was great in a strange sense.

Now, it is quite nice. Renovated. The smells seem to have been removed. It was a pleasant evening of reverie and light drinking. I have to say that Stu pussied out of the evening. I mean, I know he is busy with work, but I think July's get together frightened him. I think he is afraid of Willie.

I think he is afraid of the fact that he cannot handle the pressure of having married guys want to live vicariously, sexually speaking, through him. I do not know. He is a good guy and his conversation was missed.

That is all. I do have some grand stuff written down waiting to be turned into gold. It will happen.

I have to say this about the Outlaws. It was a real annoying Friday night dinner. My father in law was in fine form. I think he deserved a good shot from a taser, myself. The Wife's aunt, uncle, cousin and cousin's kids (3 years and 2 months old) were over for dinner (they brought it). The cousin asked her 3 year old if she wanted "Uncle H." to do his Donald Duck, which sounds remarkably like my father in law just trying to carry on a conversation, but that is just me. She said "no", but my father in law does it anyway. The kid whines and we tell my father in law to stop. He keeps doing it, though.

All you hear is two of the most annoying sounds....a bad Donald Duck imitation and a three year old girl whining to stop. This went on for about fifteen to twenty minutes. At one point, he actually follows the girls (the Wife, her cousin and the daughter) into the kitchen and continues the symphony of annoyance after continually being asked to stop. My mother in law was not amused. She is pissed with him. I think she would smother him in bed if she had the strength, or it is what I would do if she had the strength. I finally had to get up and remove him from the kitchen. Of course, that did not stop the fucking Donald Duck talk.

Then again, the Donald Duck talk is no worse than the gibberish that passes for thoughts coming from him now. Sad...but true.

Well, that is my story for now. Ciao!

Nobel Peace Prize....MY ASS!

I am back. Friday was really busy, so no post with lots to say. I will spread things out as thoughts did occur and I wrote them down. Mostly, while I was driving, which was not the safest thing to do, but what the hell.

Well, the rant of the day is this......Al Gore wins the Nobel Peace Prize, along with the UN Climate Change Committee. Is there a problem here, you ask? What is the problem here you ask?

It is nice to know that the Nobel Committee is the same august body that has bestowed its "coveted" Peace Prize on such luminaries as noted and unabashed terrorist and kleptocrat, Yassir Arafat, and the UN and Kofi Annan, then Secretary-General, who helped foment and bring you that wonderful performance piece, "Genocide in Rwanada".

Given that, it is understandable how Gore and his band of fear mongerers can win a Nobel Peace Prize. I mean, the vacuous windbag (whose speachifying has to set records for carbon dioxide spewed into the atmosphere) brought you Live Earth. There the enormous carbon footprint of the event (all that flying of acts/stars and consumption of water in plastic bottles and the waste that goes along with that, not to mention the costs, environmentally, of bottling and shipping the water, and that is just one example) was justified by said Mr Gore as being okay as it brought "awareness" of the issue of climate change and global warming.

Excuse me for saying this but I think any half-wit can be aware of it by sticking their head outside and looking around. Perhaps, they could read a newspaper or watch the television news. They could see it on the Internet. I mean with all those naked, nubile women doing such wonderful things to naked men, it must be bloody warm. Why else would they be prancing around naked. It ain't hard to figure out.

The justification of Live Earth and its environmental costs by Al Gore is ridiculous. Then again, George Orwell predicted him back in 1949, with "1984" (a fine year I might add). Recall, "War is Peace. Freedom is Slavery. Ignorance is Strength". Now add, "Wasting Resources is Awareness". Fuck Al Gore!

If Al Gore wanted to be of some use, perhaps, just perhaps, he could get off his high horse, turn the lights down in his place in Tennessee, stop railing about the problem and help come up with a way to adapt along with reducing emissions. His "plan" is really no plan at all. It is just playing Chicken Little and telling us that the sky is falling. It may be, but it does not help us deal with the fallout. We cannot turn back the hands of time and fix it. Emission reduction, ala Kyoto, will not help. It may be PART of the solution, but will do NOTHING in and of itself.

The fucking Nobel Prize Committee has botched in the past (see Arafat and the Kofi Annan UN) and they have done it again. Falling for a vacuous windbag. I now hope that he runs for President. Let us all see him actually lead and do something. Besides, it would be fun to watch him campaign again.......and find a way to lose!

That is all for today's rant! Ciao!

I finally came back.

I am back. I am glad I posted on Monday. I did not expect to be so busy Tuesday and Wednesday, let alone today. It is good. I did have one fuck up that I had to fix on Tuesday. It was a cluster fuck of a mistake. It was the mistake that kept on giving. I like to view it all as one mistake that occurred last Thursday. To right the thing, I had to go to Burlington during rush hour. Needless to say, I will not get back those three hours of my life, but it was my own damn fault.

In any event, nobody died. I was going to go on about the wedding on Sunday. It had its moments of niceness. The ceremony was held outside and the Outlaws came, all dressed up, for the ceremony. That was really nice. My mother in law got a great reaction and reception from her family and friends there. There was a bit of walking involved, so the whole ordeal seemed to tire her out. My father in law was there in body. He did recognize my mother in law, called her "his wife" and even pointed out his sister who is in from Israel.

I drank well. I ate well. I was happy to leave. I was groggy the next morning. Of course, waking up at 5:22 to take a piss does not help.

I have had a sense of impending doom all week, though. I cannot shake it. I think I am just being negative or just reacting to negative energy around me. I do not like it.

Then again, the Wife is in a bit of a snit. She is not sleeping because she keeps worrying that if she goes to sleep the phone will ring in the middle of the night with bad news. Try getting her to understand that even if she is up the phone could ring. She now dreads the phone ringing. I do not blame her. As I have said, I do not think that I have received good news over the phone. That could just be a matter of perception.

Well, tonight I am going out with the frat guys. I would love if Hayeems could make it, but he is in San Fran and was not even invited. Besides, I have not heard from him since March. What can you do?

That is all for now. Ciao!

A Weekend to Thanful for

I am back. Happy Canadian Thanksgiving. I am giving thanks today and every day.

This has been quite a weekend. I am thankful that the Outlaws were able to come to the wedding ceremony of their neice (the Wife's cousin). I am actually thankful that I was able to spend time with the extended Outlaw clan. I am thankful that I got to see the Wife's cousins from Montreal (he is a bull of a man with a heart of gold, wrapped up in a 1960s Hanna-Barbera Cartoons, mind you, and his lovely wife, they are such good folk to be around.) I am thankful that wine was flowing at the wedding, last night. I am thankful for the smoked salmon hors d'ourves last night. I am thankful for the lobster fritters, last night. I am thankful that I got to watch the Lad enjoy himself stuffing his face with those same lobster fritters and smoked salmon hors d'ourves last night. Most of all I am thankful that there was booze to take the edge off at the Outlaws' on Friday night. Oh yeah, and the fact that I am healthy, my immediate family is healthy and we received some more days with my mother in law.

Quite the weekend, indeed.

Thanksgiving is back

I am back. I am about to break for the long (Canadian) Thanksgiving Weekend. I guess I do have a lot to be thankful for, and I am. I can see that. It still does not stop those little life annoyances, but it puts them in proper perspective.

We have a wedding this weekend. The Wife's cousin is getting married. My father in law's sister's youngest. I am not sure if the Outlaws will be going. It will be a small affair, yet I forsee the aunt doing her best to turn the day into "all about her". It will be interesting to see if the bride's sister comes in from New York (with or without husband and children). She did not come for her brother's wedding two years ago.

When I say interesting, it is curiosity only. I really could care less if I ever see, or hear her annoying voice, again. Pretentious Cunt is how I see her. At least, there will be booze. Of course, the price for that is to be among the extended Outlaw clan. Let that be a lesson for us all, there is no such thing as a free lunch, or free booze.

Now, I get to go to the Outlaws. My sister in law, brother in law and three of their kids are in from Dayton. I also have to deal with a pissed of Wife. She is pissed off at her sister who changed plans to meet with professionals dealing with my father in law. Originally, the meeting was set for 11 this morning, which would have allowed the wife to go and then pick up the Lad from school. Then her sister changed the time to 2 pm and was going to come into Toronto until today. Not only did she not consult the Wife on that one, she did not even tell her about the changed time. How is the Wife going to sit through this meeting and then get across the city to pick up the Lad at 3:30?

It gets better. At 11 am, the Wife speaks to her sister and they had not even hit the border yet. So, the upshot is this, my sister in law is a tool. She not only changed the time without any consideration for the Wife, but she is not going to be there. Therefore, she royally screwed her sister for no fucking reason. Dumb shit! And now, I have to sleep with a pissed off wife.

It may not be my business, but when it disturbs my life and home, then it becomes my issue. It is at that point, I have EVERY right to open my mouth. Then again, if I do not, nobody else in that family of avoiders will. Save Yourself! That is my motto. I cannot and will not save somebody from themselves. It is always a losing proposition.

I gotta run! I hope that the booze is flowing tonight and all weekend! Ciao and Have a great weekend one and all. Reflect on what you have to be thankful for, you will feel better when you do. Ciao!

This statement is false

I am back. Not much to say but I do have to comment. It is official Hell has Frozen Over. That is the only way that I can figure that Kevin Federline is the "better" (that is relative) parent in any couple. How fucking low do you have to stink, er sink, to have Kevin Feder-fucking-line be ruled a more responsible parent by a judge. Brittney, what the fuck is up with that, yahhh?

What kind of world do we live in? Next thing you know, somebody will tell that Santa Claus and the Tooth Fairy do not exist. I am wondering about the Tooth Fairy. I keep putting an old tooth under my pillow and all I get when I wake up is the same grotty, old tooth. It is not one of mine, but the least the Tooth Fairy could do is leave a note, so that I can stop the charade. It is kind of like Linus (from Peanuts) and the Great Pumpkin. (great reference for October and I did not plan that one. I am in sync with the universe, or so I tell myself)

The Lad has a half assed belief in the Tooth Fairy. He cannot prove it is me. He has written letters with questions, which I have answered. I use a font a that looks like handwriting. I am pretty funny, then again, that is just my opinion. For the sake of this post, that is all that matters, though.

I hate to go on about Brittney, I really do. There is nothing to be said. She has done it all. Driving with the kid in her lap, shaving her head, showing off her shaved and C-section scarred snatch, walking into a gas station restroom barefoot. She has lived the life of 10 men. Oh yeah, locking lips with Madonna. I mean how many guys have wanted to do that, okay in the mid-80s. At least, 2 I figure. I am not going to go on about her performance at the MTV Awards (not that I saw it, nor would I really want to see it, though some of the musical performers on the show over the years have been great---Krist Novoselic of Nirvana knocking himself silly when he tossed his bass in the air only to have it land by hitting his head--fucking gravity).

Brit is a piece of work. That is all that I can say. We should lay off her or round her, Paris Hilton, Lindsay Lohan, and Nicole Ritchie (heaven help us all that she is passing her DNA on to another generation) up and send them on a non-stop flight into the sun. They can bring Rosie O'Donnell along for the ride, as a sort of bus mummy.

That is all I want to say on that. I gotta run. Ciao!

I need a change of scenery

I am back. The muse still is not speaking to me. I think that I need a change of scenery. A change of routine is needed around these parts. Either that or a good dirt nap. Then again, there is no writing after the dirt nap. It is one of those funny things. You take a dirt nap (die and get buried), you cannot seem to chronicle the experience. At least not directly. You can always "communicate" through somebody....like in "Ghost".

I never really liked that movie, but hated "Dirty Dancing". It must be some anti-Patrick Swayze thing. I did kind of like "The Outsiders" but maybe that was because I liked Ralph Macchio. Well, I liked the fact that he was about 40 and playing teenagers. As I think about it, I am not so sure what I liked about that either. Disregard that half-assed thought.

From now on, I want my thoughts to be full assed. I am making that commitment in writing. Then again, what is that worth?

I need a change of scenery. I am not sure where to get it at this moment in time, however. Well, "Heroes" was enjoyable. The Petrelli aftermath. Nathan becoming like Peter, confused and morose, along with the beard and Peter trying to regain his memory, and control of his absorbed powers. It was fun, fun, fun. And the Haitian returned, which was cool.

That is all. It is sad when I can only write about television. Ciao!

Fun Fun Fun

I am back. This will be quick. I do not recall much of my weekend. There was booze at the Outlaws. We cracked open yet another bottle of old Courvoissier (however you spell it). I needed it. It was not that my father in law was in rare form. I just needed the brain lubrication. I did not like hanging with the Outlaws when I was sober before the illnesses and stuff, so why should this be any different.

They had a "new" weekend live in. The usual one had another engagement. She introduces the Lad to the new one with the wrong name. Then my father in law calls the Lad the wrong name (he does it constantly, he is not far off, but he is still wrong). I turn to the Lad and then ask him his name. I am starting to think that we named him incorrectly.

We got to get out of there just after 8. The Outlaws now go to bed between 7 and 8. How sad is that? I just do not get it. There is life to be lived, with a finite time that is pretty known, yet there is this insistance of "waiting" for things to happen. They must make them happen. Well, not my father in law, since he never reallyh did that and won't now.

I am done for today. It was a pretty useless post, but I have been busy, so what can I say. Ciao!

Apparently, Murdering a woman you are familiar with is legal in California, if you are famous or known

I am back. My keyboard is a little messy, sticky, too. Oh, it is not what you think. That would be disgusting. Less so, if I was the one that did it, but still rather disgusting. I mean that shit would just get everywhere. No, it is from eating a grapefruit. The juice and the pulp just flies, baby. I really should clean up this keyboard. In fact, I will go do it now. It really needs it.

Well, as we head off into the sunset of this week, and September, I have only one thing to say. Given the mistrial declared in the Phil Spector murder case, I can say what I said much earlier. OJ Simpson, Robert Blake and now Phil Spector. If you are male and famous, obviously, it is okay to murder women you are familiar with. I can see no other explanation for that phenomena. I wonder how I could become famous and get the Wife to move to California with me.

Kidding! Jokes! Jokes! Shit, I have to be careful now. I write this, go to California with the Wife, only one of us comes home and suddenly I am a suspect and there is this shit, written in a joking manner, that can hang me and show PREMEDITATION. I am going to get the fucking chair like Scott Peterson and I did not kill anybody, let alone the Wife. I am also sure that any one of you would not think twice of ratting me out. So remember, when I get out.........

The other thing to say, on the Phil Spector front, is what the fuck is up with his hair? The old man grey afro was funny enough, but the Little Lord Fauntelroy thing he was sporting was too much. He needed an oversize lollipop to complete that look. The man was a musical genius, I will grant him that. He just cannot seem to get comfortable in his own skin. Then again, with hair like that, would be comfortable being around yourself, let alone being yourself? Ponder that one this weekend.

Seriously, look at his hair. He reminds me of a young Paul Rubens or even Pee Wee Herman, himself. That is not a look for anybody, let alone a grown man, pushing 70. His saggy balls hang down to his knees, but he has that hair style and color? What the fuck!?

Well, I am off to the Outlaws. Should be fun....NOT! There is no booze to ease this pain I will be feeling. Oh well, best to enjoy it while it lasts. Pretty good motto for life, too. Have a super weekend. Ciao!

Thanks for stopping by

I am back. First off, let me extend a happy birthday to my friend Les. I have not seen much of Les (I have seen Les far less frequently in the present) lately. Apparently, he left Mayfair for another club, which another friend of mine had done earlier. The bastards. Then again, I have not been going as frequently as I would like or really need. I have to get that part together.

That is all for today. The muse is just not speaking to me lately. Sorry. Ciao!

What a long, strange night it was

I am back. The muse is giving me the silent treatment again. She can be so damn tempermental, or that is how I see it.

It has been a long day following a long night. It was really hot and muggy last night. Unseasonably so in these parts. It seems that I have taken my thing with the heat, I just refuse to use the furnace and heat in the months of September and May, I am iffy about October and April, too, but I am willing to reconsider that, to the air conditioner. I just refused to put the AC on for a night. Then again, I am not sure it is working properly, so rather be up every couple hours to hear if it is draining properly, I chose to "sweat" it out.

I got to sleep okay with just the sheet. It did not seem so bad until.....the phone rings at about 12:50 am. You know that cannot be good news. I mean NOBODY ever calls at that time to offer up a generous sum of money or blowjob. It turns out the call came from the Outlaws. An ambulane was there to take my mother in law to emergency because she was having trouble breathing.

The funniest part of it all was that she and the Wife were at the doctor's yesterday morning. He remarked how well the radiation shrunk her tumor and that she should go out and do things, you enjoy the time she has rather than wasting time, wasting away. Okay, her left vocal chord is paralyzed and her talking comes to a whisper. Maybe, now she will actually be forced into listening rather than talking to silence the voices in her head. Nobody in the Outlaw family actually listens, so this may be a positive thing given time, but then again what do I know?

The Wife goes into a blind panic. Nothing like taking what little information you have and extrapolating a negative scenario. The bigger problem that I have with this is that as bad she thinks it can be, I can come up with far worse outcomes and scenarios. I have learned to keep my mouth shut with those. Anyway, she gets herself ready to meet the ambulance at the hospital and calls her brother.

He calls back and she picks him up. I help her jockey cars at 1 am and come back in the house. Somebody had to stay with the Lad. I get back up to bed and notice a light on in the bathroom. The Lad has woken up. He asks where his mother is and says he heard her leave and the door close. I was going to tell him, but when he finished in the bathroom, he went straight into his room and did not reask the question. At least, one of us could go back to sleep.

I must have fallen asleep after 1:30 but heard the papers being delivered around 4 and the car pulling in the driveway soon after. My mother in law is home. She had a panic attack. She woke up with a cough, could not catch her breath, and then took the next step into the panic zone.

Man, those Outlaws. Step 1 for them is always blind panic. Step 2 is helplessness. None of the steps has a basis in logical or rational thought. None of the steps has a basis in observing reality. They all live inside their own heads and when reality collides with their insanity, insanity is always the victor.

As you can see, it was not a good night. It was even worse for the Wife. The best part is that today is my mother in law's 75th birthday. The Wife does not want to celebrate or demarcate it, as that would mean acknowledging that it is probably her last and the last she will spend with us. Then again, miracles do happen. She may decide to last for a while, which I would hope she would do, provided she can handle the pain.

Not a great story, but a story, nonetheless. Just remember my own profound words (Willie can vouch for them as they were uttered on a trip to Florida in February, 1985) "I got color. Not the color I wanted, but color nonetheless." Ciao!

Day of Atonement Reflections

I am back. I did not get to give you a Friday round up. Yom Kippur was coming up fast and I had to hightail it early to eat and go pray. I am dutiful that way. Then again, I wonder if it is a "guilt" thing. I wonder if I am motivated by guilt in terms of atonement. I mean, I go to pray and I fast but I wonder if I do it because I believe or if I do it because of the fear of what if I am wrong and have to "pay" for my sins upon death, or worse yet, during my life.

It is kind of a karmic thing. I say this as I am about to share a story that I do not think I have shared with anybody, except the person of which I speak and even she does not know my thoughts on the issue. Of course, it is many, many years later and probably matters not to her, yet I still wonder.

Way back when, on the eve of Yom Kippur, which we call Kol Nidre, it was also a Friday. For whatever reason, my father was still alive and I was still living with my parents and siblings, we did not go to synagogue that evening. My "friend" came over to read, ostensibly, and just chat. She and I ended up in my bedroom, which was not unusual as we often ended up there. To make a long story short, we end up having sex (on the holiest of holy days, yet). Oddly enough, it was also the last time we had any kind of sex. It was soon after this that we sort of drifted apart.

The thing was I felt somewhat guilty about having sex on that evening. I find it tremendously interesting that it became the last time we "connected" like that. Things went down hill from there and I could never really figure out why that was. The timing of events subsequent to that evening have never really made sense to me. To this day, I still cannot figure it out. I could ask but then it just looks like I was carrying this crap for too long, besides, it won't change anything.

There you have it. A useless story, but I wonder if my "punishment" for sex on Yom Kippur was the end of relationship as I knew it. Then again, if that was the case, then, why did it appear, at least to me, that she was not punished, or at least in the same manner in which I was?

I do not expect anybody to have the answer to that one, but it has long remained a vexing connection for me.

It is also a Day of Rememberance for me, as it was on this date on the Hebrew calendar that my father died. As I have written before, all these have happened in my life around this time of year, which always gives me grist to ponder. I kind of like the opportunity for reflection that the High Holidays bring. Am I insane?

Well, that is all for today. Another reflective day for me to go along with the weekend. By the way, the fast went well this year and it was an absolutely beautiful day out there on Saturday. Nothing like breaking that fast with some red wine. I mean nothing like some alcohol on an empty stomach. Party! Woooooooooo!

Ciao!

Not much to say but thanks for coming by

I am back. Nothing new to report, except that OJ made bail. Will wonders never cease? Did AC put up the money? Will we get to see another low speed chase? That would be fun!

That is pretty much all that I have to say right now. Sad, but true. Ciao!

"I'm OJ Simpson, bitch!"

I am back. Post or perish is my motto. I will not depress y'all further than I have over the past few postings. It is just the way things are falling right now. C'est la vie.

I wish I had something funny to say or saw something that made me wonder, but that has not been the case. Too bad. I could use the larff.

Oh yeah, OJ. How could I forget about OJ? The Wife asked me yesterday "how could do such a thing? Did he think he could get away with it?" To which I answered, "Yes! He is OJ Simpson, bitch!"

I mean the dude KILLED two people and got away with it. Of course, he has been diligently "hunting" or is that "stalking" the savage that killed his ex-wife and Ron Goldman (why do they continue to show pictures of him with that headband on him, makes him look gay, but I digress). These manhunts take time. Anyway, he killed two people and got off scott free, armed robbery is a piece of piss to him. Fuck, he is OJ Simpson, bitches!

The best part is that one of his accomplices now thinks that OJ was set up. Does not take much to do that I see. Where was AC (Al Cowling) on this one? Back home in California? I assume he did not make the move to Florida with the juice. The man can still tear it up.

Okay, there, I am done for today. Ciao! Thank you OJ for giving me something, or someone, to laugh at or about.

The heart is heavy yet again. Another good one goes on to the Great Beyond!

I am back. Not to depress anybody out there but man we cannot seem to catch a break around these parts. Here is this sad story. My mother in law has, had, a very good friend. She was sort of the "anti" my mother in law. She did not suffer fools and had no problem giving her opinion, nor asserting herself. She would do the same thing that I do with my mother in law, namely not allow her to get away using the adjectives "wonderful" and "nice" to describe everything, good or bad, that she encountered.

It was she who actually found out about the unit that the Outlaws bought 2 years ago. She also lived on the 2nd floor and had a balconey (the Outlaws have an uninsulated solarium that faces west, so in the summer it is hotter than Hades late in the day and freezing in the winter, though it is a nice view). She would "baby sit" my father in law in an emergency.

She goes in for a scheduled surgery on Thursday. She had said that if things were "bad", namely cancer that they wanted to treat with radiation or chemotherapy, she did not want it. She was cool with things and her life and who she is/was. Anyway, on Friday, we were told that there were no surprises in the surgery and that all was well. She was to be released today.

I got a call from my sister in law, who had heard from the aunt, that this friend had died yesterday. Apparently, there were surgical complications complete with internal bleeding. They opened her up again on Saturday and could not solve the problem. They opened her up again yesterday and she died on the table, or so I am told.

The Wife was up all night worrying about how she was going to tell her mother. There really is no way to sugar coat this one. A rock or at least an island of calm and a very positive influence in my mother in law's life is suddenly gone. Man, this life is fragile.

She was older than my mother in law but younger than my father in law. It is a very sad time indeed. I have the unenviable task of taking my mother in law to the funeral tomorrow. She lives close enough to me that it makes sense for me to swing by and then meet up with the Wife.

It is kind of funny that I have all these sad life events occurring during my life during the Days of Awe or around the Jewish High Holidays. I hope the Dude upstairs is having a good giggle at my expense. I can take it. I have to figure that there is a larger plan that I am just not privy to as of yet. That is what allows me to get to sleep at night and get up in the morning. Otherwise, I am apt to do myself in.....who is kidding whom, I could not go without taking as many others with me as I can. A blaze of glory or is that Blaze Hayes.

I wonder how Blaze Hayes is doing. I have not heard from him since March. Funny how I have to be the one to maintain contact and such. I guess that is just how it is.

Sorry for the lack of funnies but things just do not seem so funny right now. Then again, I was able to laugh at "Anchorman: The Legend of Ron Burgundy" after hearing the news, so maybe I am too shallow and uncaring or I compatmentalize it well. Be well all of you. Ciao!

Lost Sad Weekend

I am back. I was away for a bit. It is a New Year for my people. The Days of Awe. The Days of Rememberance. The Days of Reflection. It is all very sobering given the situation on the home front. It was explained to me on Thursday that none of it is good for the Madman. So it goes.

It was a time spent with family, both my own and the Outlaws. That was fun. The time with my family was, at least. I got to see my aunt who is also suffering through radiation therapy for her own cancer. Happy thought, she is almost done the treatment. She is tired and thin, which marks a change from just thin, but it is to be expected.

Father in law needs to be hit with a Taser. Apparently, on Thursaday, I was not there, he was refusing to take his dinner time pills (the man can be quite stupid and stubborn and that was before the dementia was apparent--not saying it was not there, just seemed normal for him) so the Wife took away his dinner plate. He did not take kindly to that, she was in the right. Anyway, she says he looked like he was going to try to take a swing at her. I do not doubt it, yet doubt it highly.

It would require action and I cannot say I have EVER seen him do something beyond calling for my mother in law to say or do something, actually, it was just calling for my mother in law with no real "call to action".

On Friday, we brought dinner. Keep in mind I do not like sitting next to my father in law these days because of his habit of taking food that he will not/cannot eat and putting it on somebody else's plate (food should not go to waste or is it that he does not want in front of him). I will not abide by that, after he has been told every fucking day not to do that. I may just take a swing at him. I figure if he is not going to listen or even follow instructions, then fuck him, will he remember getting a shot in the head, besides, it is not like it could do any more brain damage.

He had two pieces of unfinished chicken (kabobs) on his plate. What does he do? He asks if anybody wants it and we all decline. He is told to just leave it on his plate. The language is clear and simple. What does he do? He puts on my brother in law's plate. My mother in law, the Wife and myself tell him, again, that it is not polite to do and to keep his food to himself. He then withdraws with the cry "Of enough already, you are giving me a headache with the yelling." I almost told him that I would show him what a headache is. Anyway, he does not want to be "yelled" at, then he should just fucking listen and follow simple instructions.

Sure enough, he takes the second piece and puts it on my brother in law's plate. I just shake me head and my brother in law, like a bit of an idiot, eats both pieces. Just like a child well minus the learning. I looked into his eyes during this whole incident and the expression was blank. There was nobody there. Tres sad.

Just thought I would share that one with y'all. Ciao!

Did I have a weekend?

I am back. I still have not heard from you about any questions that I have posed. Are you afraid? Is that what it is? Anyway, on with the show.

I did not get that brain lubrication that I sought on Friday. I did get to see my sister in law, which was pleasant. I got to listen to two old people worry that a ten year old will bang his head on the coffee table if he lies near it (let him hit it, I say, then he will know if he is too close and hopefully realize to be aware of his surroundings). I got to listen to an old man give instructions in how to use the remote control. I got to eat a crappy meal of supermarket bought Kosher food that was fried and tasteless (that included the cole slaw and tomato salad). It was a fun time in the Outlaws that night.

Got to do it again on Saturday, too, though we ordered a pizza or two for dinner. The conversation was just as scintillating for me. Blahhh! No brain juice that night, either. It was pretty sucky.

That pretty much describes my weekend in a nutshell. Actually, it was my weekend in THE Nutshell, surrounded by nuts of varying degrees. Ahhhh, what can you do?

I had to tell my mother that we would not be spending the holidays with her. We would be doing dinner, both nights, with the Outlaws. As I explained it, with the Lad out of ear shot, this is in all liklihood going to be the last Rosh Hashannah (and birthday) for my mother in law, and most likely my father in law, too. I hate to say that or even think it, but it is true. As I said to my mother, I know that it could be your last, too (just not taking anything for granted here) but I have to go with the probabilities. She, though disappointed, was supportive of the decision as she could see my point.

Believe me, I would prefer going to my mother's place on Thursday. The wine flows, the food is good and I would get to see my cousins, aunt, uncle (not that makes a difference to me) and my brother in law's brother. The Lad would have a better time hanging out with some older kids, then again, he would have to deal with pest of a younger cousin (5 years old). There will be some more of those, I hope. I just know that this year will be the last in a long line of Outlaw family holiday dinners. It is certainly one to cherished or at least the memories from the past dinners are to be recalled with fondness.

Gotta live in the present and take one step at a time. Gotta run, though. Sorry for depressing y'all, but in some ways it is not depressing but the bitter part of life's bittersweet flavor. Keep smiling.

Ciao!

The week has ended

I am back. Not sure why, though. I know that this short week is over. Next week is another short one, with Rosh Hashannah and all. That means that I have to get my work done for the week by Wednesday. It is going to be a bittersweet holiday this year.

Funny, but it was like this in 1989 and 1990 for me. 1989 was more sweet than bitter as my father had finished his consolidation doses of chemotherapy, had not died and was leaving the hospital (for good we thought/hoped but it was not to be, though he got a good 9 months of LIFE out of the deal). 1990 was more bitter and just the opposite. He was in the hospital, dying, while we (my siblings and myself) did some praying. He was in his final moments on Yom Kippur of that year and died the day after. I guess that means I have to remember that date this year.

This will undoubtedly, I say that because my mother in law is depressed and has basically given up, though in typical fashion she will NOT admit to us or herself, be the last set of holidays with my in laws. I am not sure how long after my mother in law dies that my father in law will join her. I just do not see him lasting a year without her. Sad, but true and that is life. C'est la vie.

One must wade into this mental mire to come out the other side. We will come out stronger, sadder yes, but stronger for not being broken by this life ordeal. Many have done it before and many will do it after. Sorry for the downer post, but it is what is flowing through my brain.

I think I need proper brain lubrication, but I won't find that at the Outlaws. Then again, the man still has a ton of cognac unopened, but that has rarely been my drink of choice. I do not think that he has any Scotch lying around. That is too bad, as I could really stand to tie one on. Then again, I will have to drive so maybe that is not such a good idea.

I kind of wish I could be transformed back to this time in either 1982 or 1983. I could drink and drive with impunity. Those were fun days. Not safe, but fun. Then again, show me something that is both safe and fun. Sex? Safe sex is just not as much fun as going bareback. I dig the safety (though it really does not apply to me, being monogamous and married--that is my story and I am sticking to it.)(Stu, are you making us proud? I thought so.)

I will allow you all to ponder that one. Compare safety to fun and see what you come up with. I still say that "Bag of Glass" was the greatest toy my parents ever gave me. I thank Mainway Toys and its owner Irwin Mainway every day. Have a super weekend!

Ciao!

Pavororatti and McGuinty linked by 71 and a Municpal Politics Rant

I am back. I still cannot get the "dirt" off of me from my "encounter" with my aunt. I just cannot get the thought out of my head and I cannot stop cringing every time I think of it. I am now in constant cringe mode. This is no way to be.

It is pretty ironic that Luciano Pavorotti died at age 71 and our illustriously, smarmy, lying Premier, Dalton McGuinty has come out with 71 election promises. On the score card, he made 200 odd promises last election and proceeded to break the important ones, if not all of them. I am thinking that in making 71 "promises", that is his way of daring us to vote for him so that he can break them all again.

Then again, given the sheep and mindless drivel that pass for voters in this city, province, country and continent, I am so inclined to believe that people get the government they deserve. That includes Mayor David Miller and his left leaning, slop swilling, incompetent, self-righteous minions (councellors, including my own, Joe Milosevic, er Mihevic, whom I would say lied to my face). That dude, said to me on my lawn, that he would promise efficient use of my tax dollars. The best value he could give. Maybe, he was not lying. Perhaps, it is the best he can do. If that is so, then he is not fit to serve the public, let alone run a lemonade stand.

I have a dislike on for the municipal politicians. The problem is this. Yes, downloading from the Province is a big problem and property taxes were never meant to cover social/welfare type payments; they were to pay for municipal services like garbage and snow removal, police, ambulance and fire, etc. The problem I have is that this day was apparent three or four years ago. What did they do about it? Not much from what I can see. And now they want to raise taxes on my property and add a whole bunch of new taxes to bring in revenue.

The worst part is that these motherfuckers voted themselves a pay raise and have perks coming up the ying-yang. Did any of those left wing twits ever think that if they are going to ask us, as taxpayers, to take a haircut, should they take one as well, which means foregoing their perks and the raise. The best part is that their argument for the raise was that it would encourage "better" candidates to run and govern, yet he have the same retreads, with same ideas that have not worked, doing the same shit that has not worked.

They just have not EARNED a raise if the City is in a financial crisis, as they claim. Who was shepparding the ship into the rocks? They were. Now, they want more money for themselves and expect their incompetence and mismangement to be rewarded? The fucking gall! A pox on all their houses!

The Mayor is a ditz. Plain and simple. He was elected four years ago without a plan and after winning office again, he still has no FUCKING PLAN! Oh yeah, his plan has always been to beggar the City to senior levels of government. That is some plan. He is supposed to be rewarded for this? It blows my mind!

I have to stop. My head is about to explode and I have to get on the road. I may run into my aunt again, which would be really funny. Of course, I would have to jump into a vat of acid to get the dirt off of me. Ciao!

The Ick Factor Strikes Me, Again!

I am back. Funny thing happened to me yesterday. The more I think about it, the more disturbed I am becoming. I was driving home yesterday. I have my window down and I am at a light. I am in the left lane with a dedicated left turn lane beside me. I am stopped at the light and just sort of looking around. I look to my left and I see this older woman, who looks familiar, in a sporty looking car. I think it is some sort of German car but look to see it is a Nissan 350Z.

Okay, as I look at the woman in the car, her windows are up. I am thinking she looks familiar, almost like my mother or grandmother. Then I realize, it is my aunt. My mother's sister, who was my dentist, up until she pissed me off about nine years ago (she sold her practice earlier this year, too). The last time I saw her was at my nephew's first birthday party in May. I did not say a word to her or my uncle.

In fact, at my nephew's bris, she asked the Wife "how old Jeffrey was?" Who the fuck is "Jeffrey"? The Wife answered, "I don't know, about 51" (which would have been the age of my cousin Jeffrey). She apparently meant the Lad. Gotta hand it to her, at least she got the first letter of the Lad's name correct. You can see I am very close with her. Funny thing is that she lives in the same city as me, but her brother, my uncle in British Columbia, has seen the Lad more and has a relationship with him. (shaking my head)

I realize who it is and smile and wave. She smiles back, waves, but does not open her passenger window to talk. The light changes and she moves forward. I drive off as she makes her left turn to go home (she lives near where I was and am). As I am driving along, I realize that she had NO CLUE who I was. That is okay.

Here is the disturbing part, as I see it. She makes the rest of the drive home knowing that some younger guy has just smiled and waved at her. She is thinking that I was flirting with her. Ewwwwww! Did I make her panties moist? Ewwwwwww! I can just picture her thinking that some younger dude was checking her out, when that younger dude was her nephew, just acknowledging her existence in his present and presence.

You can say, I could be wrong, but I know my aunt and how she thinks. I cannot get this dirt off of my no matter how hard I have scrubbed. I have turned my aunt on. To quote the late Robert Palmer, "I didn't mean to turn you on."

So now I have to live with myself, knowing I made my aunt's panties moist.....unless given her age (60s) she is incontinent, in which case her weak bladder made her "granny" panties moist. Though, she is not a granny as neither of her children have any kids that we know of, nor are they married. Remind me one day to tell the scandalous tale of my cousin, my brother's age, who called off her wedding ten years ago. Actually, you should all ask my sister about it as she had some sort of relationship with her. I do not think I have seen her and her brother (10 years my junior) since my brother's wedding, five years ago.

Well, that is my story. Ciao!

Labor Day is over and it still feels like a Monday

I am back. No new tales to tell, though. I cannot call this an eventful weekend. I cannot believe it is September and school has begun, once again. The beauty fact is how it all cycles. Summer begins, summer ends only to begin again and of course, end again. It is symmetry in motion and life.

I keep forgetting today is Tuesday. It has that Monday feel about it. I am going to be a day behind all week. Then again, that means Friday is much closer, which may or may not be a good thing.

It was another crappy sleep last night. I was up at about 1:45 am for no apparent reason. I was actually glad that it was that early because I knew I had some good sleep time ahead. I was then up at 4:45 am and the Wife was in sob mode. It was time to turn the comforting machine on. I did that for a while, but I was really up. I did doze off from about 6:10 to 6:20 only to have a freakish dream. I dreamt that some strange woman was parked in our driveway. I told her to move her fucking minivan but somehow the "beast" was missing. I was confused as to who would steal that piece of shit Impala. I think at some level I was elated but pissed that I would have to go through the hassle of filing a police report.

Then I woke up and realized it was a dream. Pretty damn vivid but still a dream. The "beast" was still on the driveway. Tuesday began and now it ends for me. I hope you enjoyed yours.

Ciao!

Saturday thoughts

I am back. A rare Saturday post. I have to say that I had a good time at the ball game with the Lad last night. The Wife had brought him in all hopped up on caffeine, so I was thinking I was in for a non-stop chatterfest. He gets that from my mother in law who has been known to go on and on, ad nauseum, without actually saying anything.

The funny thing, and I mean in this in sort of an ironic and synchronistic way, and I may have mentioned this before, I have long seen a great parallel between my mother in law and aunt (the remaining sibling, middle child, from my father's side of the family. Both of my mother's siblings are still with us). Both were born about five months apart in the early 30s. Both were very bright and sympathetic women, who ended up at Commerce high schools and ended up as bookkeepers. You can talk to both, or at least them speak for a good half an hour, and then cannot figure out the "point" of the talking (what the hell they were saying or better yet, why were they telling you).

The best, and saddest, is that they are both battling cancer. In fact, when my mother in law was in for her blood work on the Tuesday before they put in her feeding tube, who should they (she and the Wife) run into? That is right, my aunt, uncle and cousin, doing the blood work before they started the treatment for my aunt's colon cancer.

Funny how that all works, huh?

The game was a good one last night, at least in terms of home runs. The people sitting next to me were fucking annoying, though. Some 20ish dude and three chicks of the same vintage. Fuck, they should just shut up as they were loud and boring. That is why I hate public events, it is the public! Fuck 'em all, that is what I say. Go postal on their asses! Of course, I know the gun can be turned on me, so I try to stay home. I am a lot of things but stupid is not one of them.

Besides, those "nachos" they were eating stunk to high hell. They assaulted my ears and my nose. I believe that you can get a free pass if you only insult one sense, but more than one and there should be hell to pay. I guess I have just instituted a new "rule" in my life. That is now how I will judge the world around me.

Gonna run, enjoy the sun and rest of this glorious day! Ciao!

Let the long weekend begin.

I am back. This will be short as I have the Lad here with me. He is on a caffeine high, which means he will be more talkative than usual. He is just yapping away and somehow saying nothing. Oh well.

He and I are not going to the Outlaws. We are off to the Blue Jays game. I am ambivalent about going. My brother in law, in his normal half-assed way, keeps saying "if you and (the Lad) want to go to a game, I'll go with you". Now, I am not sure what I get out of that deal. If he offered to take the Lad that would be one thing. He has NEVER spent time alone with the Lad (he is fucking like his father in that and many regards), yet he "wants" to go to the game, of course, if I am going. It is reminding me of Paul Reiser's character in the classic movie, "Diner", who cannot ask for something directly.

I actually thought he would take the Lad to the game, so that I could go to the Outlaws. I figure that I should see them as much as possible while I can. Of course, they are his parents and he has dibs, though he has NEVER exercised them, the dibs, before. Anyway, I am heading down with the Lad, while the Wife will take him home from the Outlaws.

Well, that is all I have to bitch about right now. Have a great weekend. I plan to and will enjoy my time alone, among thousands of others, with the Lad. Ciao!

The end of summer is upon us

I am back. I am more tired than ever. I would say that it is great that there is a long weekend upon us but it is the one that I have always liked least. Labor, or Labour, Day is the most depressing of the long weekends that I can think of. It always has, and perhaps, always will, signal the end of summer.

The days have gotten perceptibly shorter. There is only one way to go. Really short. Then again, the good news is that it is always a cycle so they will lengthen right after December 21st or so.

Labour Day was always the beginning of school. I did enjoy those three years (1983, 1984 and 1985) when I was doing my undergrad work. We did not begin classes until the following Monday so there was that extra week of summer, when high school kids (my siblings) were back to school but I was off. I am not sure I took advantage, but I am not sure how I was supposed to.

In 1983, we had Jewish holidays at the back end of that extra week. I had done my service at my cousin's wedding, got extremely tanked and was hung over for Labour Day. I do recall watching "Mad Max" and "An American Werewolf in London" on First Choice (pay tv, or Canada's first answer to HBO, at the time). That was okay. In 1984, I continued to have some fun that final week. In 1985, I did the same including a night up at a friend's chalet with just the boys. It was not queer just some drinking, Monopoly and male bonding. It was good.

The next few years was law school. 1986 and 1988 were not memorable since classes began the Tuesday after Labour Day. 1987 was fucked up, though. We had to begin school, because of the Jewish Holidays, on Monday August 31st. I had never started school in August before. It was somewhat surreal. We did get Labour Day off. The best part was that there was a strike by the support staff, so many of classes were postponed during that semester as the full time professors were reticent to cross the picket lines. The practitioner/instructors did not give a shit, so they crossed and taught. I always preferred the practitioners.

I could go on about long weekends. I mean Victoria Day ushered in the summer season. Canada Day and Simcoe Day were and are in the summer. Thanksgiving, up here in Canada, is early October, when the leaves are changing color, so it is always beautiful, unless it is raining. Good Friday, well, it is March or April, so winter is turning to spring and you know summer is around the corner. It is only Labour Day that marks the end of summer.

The pissy part is that the streets get busier. There is more traffic. It is nothing to look forward to. When it is summertime, the living is easy. Oh well, another summer is coming to an end.

I guess I should be glad that August is drawing to a close. It has not been a pleasant August, but that is not the fault of August. That is just the way life works. August will be associated with that however. Ahhhhh, must enjoy and be thankful for what I have.

That is the lesson for today. Reflect on your life and focus on all that is good and right. I think that I will do that, in lieu of sleep.

By the way, dinner last night was excellent. Went to Torrito's in Kensington Market. Tapas. I am still drooling thinking about it. The best gazpaucho EVER! Made with yellow tomatoes. Then they comped us the lamb/pork meatballs in mole sauce. EXCELLENT!!! It was great. Highly recommended to all. The ceviche and smoked trout were nothing to sneeze at either. I forgot how much I like Spanish food and tapas. El Cid went away and so did my appetite for tapas, but it is really the ultimate grazers meal---a little of this, a bite of that. That is good eating!

Ciao!

No new mouse tails, er, tales

I am back. I forgot to send out birthday greetings to my sister yesterday. It is not as though I have ever told her of this blog, let alone given her the coordinates to view it, so I am sure she did not notice that lack of public acknowledgment in this space. Still, I felt it needed to be done.

Well, the Lad has gone up north with some friends and his family until late tomorrow. It will be good for him to get away from the sad parts of life if only for a night and day. I am pleased he chose to go, though I am not sure why he would not.

On a brighter note, or is it, I did not have to dispose of any dead mice last night or this morning. I still have to move the fucking refridgerator and I am afraid of what I may find. I do not think there is anything dead there. In fact, dead is better than alive. They do not move so much when dead, or if at all. They stink, but it is not like trying to hit a moving target. I like that.

So, it is just the Wife and I tonight. Well, actually, I was informed that we are being taken out for dinner by our friends. They are so good. They allow us a pretty free run at their pool, invite us to their family functions and take the Lad all the time. He was with them yesterday, enjoying the pool and playing with their son, who is 3 weeks younger. I really like them. Of course, I am not naming names.

Not so much funny on this end. I did get to see the first episode of season 4 of Rescue Me last night. It was good to see it on again. I really like that show in case you care.

Well, that is all for today. Ciao!

The Mouse Capades Just Continue to Roll

I am back. Things just keep getting better on the rodent front. Perhaps, it is the construction going on two doors away. I do not know. All I know is this, we had a friend over for dinner last night. She is petrified by mice and rodents. There was no sighting while she was there. The remaining traps were set, baited and remained baited.

At around nine or so, we are all (the Wife, Lad and myself) just sitting on our bed watching some television. I notice something brown and small coming towards our open bedroom door and turn around and move to the office upstairs. Fuck me with a chainsaw! We are down to 3 traps now. I am not sure if that is good news or bad news. The things are getting used, though, and doing the trick.

I go downstairs to get a trap to put upstairs. What do I find? Under the breakfast bar, another confirmed kill. I have to tell you, as ugly as mice may be when on their paws with their backs facing up, dead on their backs with their ugly teeth showing is worse. I put the carcass and trap in a plastic bag and into the garbage it goes, along with the two others. I guess the Lad actually saw it when we came home on the Sunday. I also noticed that the bait was gone from one of the other traps.

I brought one upstairs and put the last one under the breakfast bar. I figure that is the place because it has already killed two and the other placements merely served as feeding stations. Fine, I hear no snapping upstairs.

At six this morning, I am up and check the trap upstairs. Baited, set and no mouse. Okay. I head downstairs, get the paper, turn on the light and lo and behold, dead mouse on its back, stuck in the trap under the breakfast bar. I have one trap left (the Wife is buying more) but the breakfast bar is the place to set them. Now, I really have to move the fridge and am really afraid of what I may find.

I go to bed disposing of dead mice and wake up to do the same. I am the TERMINATOR. The Wife called an exterminator, like they will find the entrance. I think it is a waste of money, but it may be worth a shot. When that one fails, I can always throw it back at her.

The Lad is bitching about them. Yet, for all his bitching, I have not seen him cleaning up the mess. I have not seen the Wife do it either. That is the problem that I have. I am doing ALL the work here with these things. Well, I have killed four, how many are there to go?

I guess that is the eternal question. Then again, I am thinking better mice than rats. Also, apparently my brother seems to believe that if you poison them, you can just throw up some air freshener and all is well. These things stink to high hell and low hell, too. I do not know how you live with that rotting garbage smell.

Ciao! I really do need some sleep but the Season 4 premier of Rescue Me is on. No rest for the wicked, and functionally useless, too.

More Mouse Tails, er Tales

I am back. The weekend was surprisingly hassle free. A little more, who is kidding who, a lot more sleep would have been nice. But just like Warren Zevon wrote, "I'll sleep when I'm dead." Not the most pleasant of thoughts given what is swirling around these parts of my life right now, but it is appropos. I also found myself singing this song (the Lad has done it on occasion as well, he has the most interesting ways of making me proud) while in my George S May training life of three years ago.

We did dinner at the Outlaws on Friday. My mother in law sat at the table and had some soup the Wife had made. It was a pleasant dinner. My father in law was on good behavior. Then again, he was so tired from his hospital stay, he was more docile than usual. We leave. I take the Lad (he chooses to ride with me-likes the music selection, I think) and the Wife takes her brother (I prefer the arrangement this way. Ever since, my brother in law bummed a ride off of us in February to a family function, not that I mind, though I refuse to fucking WAIT for him, I mean, if you are bringing NOTHING to the table and I am doing you the favor, do not even consider making me wait for your ass, and made it seem like he was virtuous for saving gas, I really do not want to drive him anywhere. Now that may be my interpretation of what he said to my father in law, and that may not have been his intent, in any event cheap, lazy and dependent is not a virtue).

As it started to rain, the Wife took her brother all the way home instead of dropping him off at the subway station near our home. His stop is the next one south, so it an okay arrangement. The Lad and I get home first. We get in the house and the Lad is asking me to check the traps. In fact, he is standing on the couch (he can be a little pussy and really could stand to grow a pair, which I have informed to do). I check the trap in the kitchen--bait gone and trap still set (FUCK!), I check the trap near the kitchen, same situation (FUCK!), I check the trap in the corner of the dining room--still baited and set (Okay), then I check the trap under the breakfast bar (what a stupid design by the dude who renovated our house before we bought it) and lo and behold, there is a dead mouse. Little fucker's neck was snapped by the trap. A confirmed kill! Boo Yah!

I cleaned it all up and tossed the beast with the trap into the garbage outside. I am pleased as punch but figure better safe than sorry, so I rebait the other traps and place them around. Cannot be too sure, you know.

Sunday, before breakfast, the Wife is getting something out of a lower cupboard and smells that garbagy rotting smell. For critters that are so small, they stink to high hell when they die. Imagine what a decomposing human would smell like. Blaaah!! Well, at least we confirmed what we heard on Thursday (trap snapping) was indeed a kill. After breakfast, I had to open up the space again and fish the dead critter out. It was leaving a liquidy trail, so I had to clean up after I pitched the carcass.

I am thinking that if I catch enough of them I could skin 'em and make a beautiful mouse skin coat. Just thinking like the granson of a furrier that I am. Anyway, the Lad claims to have seen something move when we came in last night, but I am not sure. I have three baited traps and there appears to have been no change last night. Then again, I have to move the fridge and check there, but I just do not want to. That may be this evening's entertainment.

Ciao!