joe dreck
Nov. 16, 2009

Joe Dreck, the Captain, "struggles" with
the inanity of it all.
Email
capt.dreck@gmail.com

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Subject: CORRECTION CORRECTION MEA CULPA
Date: Friday, October 30, 2009 2:31 PM

RE: error in my recent cinnamon toast recipe,

My former wife wrote and asked me just what "peanut button" was? She said she couldn't find it in th grocery store? Do I detect a trace of sarcasm there? haha I looked over what I wrote and am confused as to how I managed to turn an ER on th end of butt... to an ON? What was I thinkin? Were some electrical signals in my brain routed to th wrong address?

Th answer; I dunno fo sure... so I'll jus claim Ignorance! How's that?! That usually settles th discussion, cus it's so plausible, si?!

th cap'm


Subject: CINNAMON TOAST DELUX
Date: Thursday, October 29, 2009 10:42 PM

I saw a buddy of mine last nite and in th course of our conversation, she said,

"Gosh cap'm, how come you haven't written about any of your culinary adventures lately? Have you, god forbid, retired from the field? OH, I so hope not!"

I said, "Now now, my dear" and I patted her arm in a reassuring manner, "don't you fret. I'll come up with somethin soon, don't you worry. Everything is gonna be all right!"

Well, altho I haven't written anything about that for a while, I am still concocting up wonderful gourmet meals and still pursuing my craft. But I jus haven't been doin my usual braggin about it. Like, fr'instance, this is a little snack I enjoyed early this morning. And while it's not all that different from what you do yerself, it's those little differences that set my Cinnamon Toast above all th rest. Here's how I go about preparing mine.

First, I took half of a poppy seeded hamburger roll, and put it in my electric toaster**. OK, so when it was lightly browned, I used th manual release to pop it out. Then I took some lightly salted butter and lathered that dude up reel good. Don't spare th butter here, OK?! I think about a quarter inch layer is about right. You may choose more, it's up to you. I also like to sprinkle just a taste more salt on it. Wakes up th flavor a bit more, y'unnerstand!

Then secondly, I put another quarter inch layer of peanut button on top of that. It mixes reel well with that warm butter.

Then step #3, comes th sugar. Again, don't be bashful here, OK, cuz we're lookin fer some sweetness, y'dig! Ya wanna lay enuff sugar on there to create a layer of sparkling white that completely covers th yellowish/brown of th peanut butter/butter mix. I'd say, about a quarter inch will suffice.

Fourthly, th Cinnamon. Dust that dude up reel good. Cover up that sugar so there's only an occasional bit of white sparkling thru. Now yer surface is brown again.

And fifthly, th last step, th finishing touch, and this is cool. This is what reely moves yer preparation up a few notches; here ya wanna drizzle some thin Aunt Jemima maple syrup over it. I usually sign my name, includin my middle name too.

Man, I'm tellin ya, this is one fuck of an early morning treat! All those flavors melded together, th butter, th peanut butter, th cinnamon, th syrup and then ya got th sweet crunchiness of th sugar crystals, along with that crispy roll to give it that extra nuance of texture. Whooie Duke!! And of course, don't ferget; ya gotta wash th whole affair down with a quart of ice cold milk. Now, yer ready to rack out, satiated and satisfied. Morpheus will be envious!! I guarantee it!

th cap'm

** Now, if ya don't have one of these yerself and are still toastin yer breads on a skillet, I suggest ya get yer ass on down to th Thrift Store and pick one up fer bout two bucks! It's two dollars well spent. Ya can't be a Luddite ferever, y'know! When ya have guests over, give it a nice polishing and leave it out where they can see it. Can't help but make a favorable impression on em!


 

Subject: CIGARETTE PACK WHACKERS
Date: Tuesday, October 27, 2009 2:38 PM

Last nite, I was sittin on my bar stool, pleasantly drunk and stoned, quietly quaffin my brew, when my reverie was interrupted by the whackin of a cigarette pack directly behind me. As ya'll know, I've written of this annoyance many times before. Th loud and totally unnecessary way that ignorant peoples pack their cigarettes before openin em, by poundin them against their palm or th bar, or whatever is handy. And if ya ask em why they're doin such a silly irrelevant thing, th answers ya get make no sense whatsoever. That is, if ya can even get an answer, cuz most peoples jus seem to do it by instinct, not even aware they are doin it, much less havin absolutely no idea as to WHY? It's jus an unconscious ritual they go thru before they open their pack.

Now, back in th olden days, we always did that. Pack em, I mean!! And I'm talkin here bout th 50's mostly. After removing th pack from our rolled up t-shirt sleeve, cuz we were cool, y'dig, we then proceeded to whack that pack a number of times against our palm. Some guys preferred to pack em individually against th pack itself, rather than th whole pack at one time, but thas all immaterial, cus no matter which method ya employed; we packed em fer a reason, and that was, cus like, if yer were smokin a non-filter, which was th only thing a cool guy would smoke at th time, like a Lucky, or Camel fr'instance, ya packed it so that when ya put that end in yer mouth, ya reduced th amounts of loose tobacco ya got in yer mouth. See what I mean? Ya didn't have to be constantly spittin out little flecks of tobacco alla time, y'know?

Flash forward to today. These fucknuts are packin filter-tipped cigarettes! Aw'right?! So whas th fookin excuse fer that? Huh? There ain't gonna be no tobacco gettin in their mouth! I mean, they'll whack that pack against their palm, 50, a 100, even 200 hundred times. I'm not jivin ya one bit. I've counted em when I could keep track of em, cuz sometimes they are doin it so fast, there's no way ya could get an accurate count. They will literally spend minutes at it, sometimes they do it to th beat of th music, others do it to th beat of th music in their own heads, I guess, I dunno. Sometimes they will tell me it makes th cigarette burn slower. Of fuck! Bullshit! Yeah right!! I'd like to see a test comparing th length of time a packed cigarette takes to burn, as compared to one taken right out of th pack, without any pre-ignition preppin of any kind?! Besides, most of these fuckers only smoke half that cigarette anyway, so, like it makes a difference how fast it burns?

So, last nite, when I heard that, I realized that since th smoking ban went into effect, I hadn't heard that annoyin noise in quiet a while, and how nice it has been. I didn't recall with fondness that noise at all. I did remember sittin in th bar one evening, and the guy on th right of me started packin his squares, and then th guy on th left of me was too, and then a gurl behind me started; they were whackin to th left of me; they were whackin to th right, they were whackin alla round me. Sheeit, ese! I was enveloped in a Surround Sound of Cigarette Pack Whackers!! And all of em completely oblivious to th annoyance they were causin me. Thoughtless Bastards! Y'know what ahm sayin!

So, thas th one and only good thing I can attribute to this whole smokin ban. Thas it. Period. No more Pack whackin!

Well..... not much anyway!

th cap'm


 

Subject: FOOD FOR THOUGHT
Date: Tuesday, October 27, 2009 2:26 PM

Hey ya'll, this is pretty interesting. Gives one pause to think. PERCEPTION

. . .Something To Think About. . .



Washington, DC Metro Station on a cold January morning in 2007. The man with a violin played six Bach pieces for about 45 minutes. During that time approx. 2 thousand people went through the station, most of them on their way to work. After 3 minutes a middle-aged man noticed there was a musician playing. He slowed his pace and stopped for a few seconds and then hurried to meet his schedule.

4 minutes later:

The violinist received his first dollar: a woman threw the money in the hat and, without stopping, continued to walk.

6 minutes:

A young man leaned against the wall to listen to him, then looked at his watch and started to walk again.

10 minutes:

A 3-year-old boy stopped but his mother tugged him along hurriedly. The kid stopped to look at the violinist again, but the mother pushed hard and the child continued to walk, turning his head all the time. This action was repeated by several other children. Every parent, without exception, forced their children to move on quickly.

45 minutes:

The musician played continuously. Only 6 people stopped and listened for a short while. About 20 gave money but continued to walk at their normal pace. The man collected a total of $32.

1 hour:

He finished playing and silence took over. No one noticed. No one applauded, nor was there any recognition.

No one knew this, but the violinist was Joshua Bell, one of the greatest musicians in the world. He played one of the most intricate pieces ever written, with a violin worth $3.5 million dollars. Two days before Joshua Bell sold out a theater in Boston where the seats averaged $100.

This is a true story. Joshua Bell playing incognito in the metro station was organized by the Washington Post as part of a social experiment about perception, taste and people's priorities.

The questions raised:

*In a common place environment at an inappropriate hour, do we perceive beauty?
*Do we stop to appreciate it?
*Do we recognize talent in an unexpected context?

One possible conclusion reached from this experiment could be this:

If we do not have a moment to stop and listen to one of the best musicians in the world, playing some of the finest music ever written, with one of the most beautiful instruments ever made …

How many other things are we missing?

But, y'know, in spite of how many peoples walked by this guy, who didn't acknowledge him, he apparently made at least $ 32.00! Speakin only fer myself, I'd take jus about any gig that was payin me 32 bucks an hour!! Now, I understand this dude is a World Class Musician, and thas jus chump change to him, but still.................

th cap'm


Subject: THE SECRET TO A GREAT HAMBURGER
Date: Monday, October 26, 2009 5:26 PM

A couple nites ago, I was watchin th show called "Good Eats" on cable. Th host's name is Alton Brown. If you are a Culinary Gourmet such as myself, you might enjoy th show too. And as ya recall, I've written a number of tales of my own experiences there in th kitchen/lab too. I'm sure if you search your computer, you will prolly find one of my old stories of some of my Culinary Adventures, cuz I'm sure ya musta saved em right?

Like, ya prolly recall a bit of info that I picked up from Alton a while back, when he did a show about chili. He was talkin bout th origins of chili and he mentioned one that has been bandied around that seemed most likely to me. He said it is thought to have been brought to this country by th 16 families who left th Canary Islands and were given large grants of land by King Philip of Spain, along th San Antonio river in 1723 in what was then, Nueva Espana, present day Texas. Yeah, see, those were my mother's peoples. My granddad from a lotta years ago, Don Francisco Flores de Abrego was th head of one of those families. Along with th large grants of land, as a further incentive to get these folks to leave th Canaries to colonize that desolate land, they were given th Honorific title of Don, Which made em instant nobles, see?! Who knows, they were prolly fuckin goat herders before he nobleized em? But what th hell, a minor and irrelevant detail at best!

So, ya can easily see why this is my preferred version of th origins of chili, eh?! Ferget th other myths ya may have heard. Y'know, like, about th cooks on th cattle drives and so on. Oh pshaw! So, anyway, as I see it, my long time ago granddad, Don Francisco ruled that land and held dominion over th scorpions and rattlesnakes and whatever else critters lived there. And he bought his chili with im! So next time there's a conversation about chili, ya might wanna impress yer friends by tellin em that you are personally acquainted, nay, actual friends of one of the descendants of th inventors of CHILI!!

They will no doubt be lookin at ya with a new=found respect!

Oh yeah, where th old Don settled is about 30 miles south of San Antonio, and it's called Floresville, and in th town square, there is a plaque there honoring him. Yeah, and one more thing, Th town is mostly Hispanic, so if ya would like to visit there sometime, if yer a gringo, ya might wanna brush up on yer Espanol, cuz see, we were there first before you guys ever showed up!! And so, th polite thing to do would be fer you guys to speak our lingo, comprehende?

OK, now, th reason I'm writin here today is not to praise my ancestors, th Inventors of chili, but to jus relay an important hint I gleaned from watchin "Good Eats" a while back.

Th question was; "What is th secret to a Great Hamburger?"

And th answer was; TH BEEF!!

Wow, huh?! Who woulda thunk it? That revelation jus about knocked me off my feet! See, thas a good example of why I watch his show whenever I can! As soon as I heard that, I got a pen and paper and wrote it down, and I got it stashed here in th crib in my secret hiding place. And I can access it anytime I wanna make a Great Burger and I'll know where to start! Hmmm, I wish I knew his e-mail addy cus I wanna write Alton and see if he'd do a show and let us know what th secret is to a Great Grilled Cheese Sandwich? It would be interestin to hear what his take on that would be, eh?


Subject: A TALE FROM TH DARK AGES
Date: Monday, October 19, 2009 5:20 PM

It was a dark and wintery night. 1980, I was spending, yet another winter without benefit of heat, out there in th 8100 block of Paseo, right in th middle of th lovely environs of th Marlboro District. This quaint area was th Favorite White-Trash Neighborhood in town. No place said Meth louder or more enthusiastically than Marlboro! We took pride in our monkey-shit brown, rusted out Vegas, propped up on cinder blocks in th driveways of our tiny cottages. I use th word "cottages" cuz it seems to fit very well with th description of th area as "Quaint". Shacks would actually be more apt tho, if preceded by "run-down and dilapidated".

So, there I was, in th middle of winter, was about 10 degrees, wearing every piece of clothing I could put on. I had 8-9 pairs of socks, 3-4 pairs of jeans, shirts and sweaters galore, 3 winter coats, wrapped up in a half dozen blankets, wearin 2 pairs of gloves. And I was still cold Jack!! So, I was sittin on th stool in th bathroom with th door closed, with my tiny electric space heater sittin on a chair next to me, warming an area about two feet in front of it. That was pretty much its range. But, I figured that th little bit of heat it put out would at least be contained in th bathroom, whereas it would be totally lost in any other room. I had my little 12" black and white TV sittin on another chair in front of me. Tho I didn't have th jack to go out, I did have a stash of herb there to comfort me. And so, having gotten righteously stoned and completely bored with th TV offerings, I decided it would be a good time to wash my hair, in spite of th fact th water was ice cold.

Yeah, see, even tho I had electricity, I didn't have any gas, therefore, no hot water heater.... ergo, freezing water!! So, here's how I accomplished this feat. I had a small hot plate in my kitchen. So, I would boil some water in a large metal bowl on it and then transfer that to a beer pitcher. Then I would take that into th bathroom. I had a small section of garden hose attached to th spigot on th bathtub. I would then fill up another pitcher of freezing water and then I would get down on my knees and lean over th edge of th tub, and pour th freezin water into still another neutral pitcher and then mix th boiling water with it to make a liquid that was temperaturally acceptable to my head. I would then pour that mixture over my head and apply th shampoo and then in th final step in th process, rinse with it.

Are ya with me here?

On this particular night tho, (did I mention I was stoned) I had my various pitchers arranged there on th bottom of th tub, and when I got down on my knees and leaned over th tub and poured th water over my head, my first reaction was th SHOCK when that freezing water hit my head...... cuz I realized instantly that I had neglected step # 2, which was th mixing of th hot and cold liquids. Oh drat! But then....... mebbe about a second and a half later, I discovered to my painful Horror, that my mistake wasn't that I had poured freezing water on my head, but dammit.....TEN THOUSAND CURSES.... Boiling water instead! YEEEOW!! I had poured th boiling water directly on my head without th calming influence of th freezing water to offset it. Once again, YEEEOW!! I screamed! Mutherfucker! I bolted straight up as my head erupted in pain. SEVERE pain Duke!! It was like my head was literally on fire!

I immediately turned on th ice cold water and usin that hose kept a steady stream of ice cold water splashin over my head, and even tho it was FREEZING, it did make th pain bearable. I wondered tho if I might be in need of medical attention? I mean, I had jus poured boiling water on my head, y'know. So, I scrambled into th living room and grabbed my phone which fortunately had a long cord, and I yanked it into th bathroom as quick as I could, but oh man, th pain was really intense in that brief interlude without that freezing water. So, I called th emergency room at St. Luke's with this steady stream of ice cold, freezing water splashin over my head.

And so, shivering and quivering, with my teeth chatterin uncontrollably, I got ahold of a nurse and managed to babble out to her that I had jus poured boiling water on my head and asked her if I should come in for some kind of treatment? She said in obvious disbelief,

"You did what??"

And while I was barely able to explain th situation to her, with my teeth chatterin from th intense cold, how I had managed to do that, I could tell she was stiflin a giggle and she asked me what I was doing at th moment? I told her I was runnin freezing water from a hose attached to my tub while I was talkin to her, and again she had a hard time concealing her amusement.

Her mirth at my predicament was wearin thin by now and I managed to chatter,

"Goddammit!! This might seem to be pretty fuckin funny to you, but I'm in severe pain here!! What th fuck should I do?"

And that sorta jolted her out of her out her merriment and th Professional in her emerged and she said,

"I'm sorry Sir! But what you are doing right now is the very best thing you could do. That is pretty much how we would treat you if you were here right now. We really couldn't do anything more. The freezing water will help to alleviate the pain and help keep the scalding to a minimum. Keep that cold water on your head as long as you can!"

I asked if my hair would fall out, because of th burnin of my scalp, and she said it depended on how badly I had burnt it, but that she didn't think so.

And so I thanked her for her advice and hung up, and knelt there, with all my blankets draped over my shoulders, under that freezing water, quakin and shakin for at least 30 minutes till, finally I decided th pain couldn't be any worse than that. But as soon as I got out from under th water, th pain, tho diminished by now, was still fookin bad!!

I wondered if ya could get frostbite of th head? I was afraid my ears were going to crack and fall off my head. My fingers weren't workin any more! I took th space heater and sat it on my bed, and arranged all my coverings as best I could and crawled under em all. Oh brother, I'm tellin ya; that was one miserable night, tryin to get to sleep..... freezin my ass off..... with my head on fire!

I cursed th gods intermittently all night long. I said,

"Fuck you guys! Ya ain't gettin any more sacrificial chickens from this dude!! Fuck KFC! From now on, it's Burger King fer me!!"

Th next day, and for several days after that, my scalp was so sore I couldn't begin to drag a comb thru it. But, besides th pain of doin so, I was afraid my hair would come out with th comb. In th end tho, there were no lasting consequences. My hair remained intact. It was, I guess; just another of Life's lessons learned..... The Hard Way!!

th cap'm

P.S. Damn tho, why doesn't somebody write one of those self-help books and call it, "LIFE'S LESSONS; THE EASY WAY!" Or mebbe more appropriately in my case. "LIFE'S LESSONS FOR DUMMIES"


Subject: A DEATH IN THE AFTERNOON
Date: Sunday, October 18, 2009 4:06 AM

Aw'right, first off, I wanna make this clear, this has got nothin to do with Ernie H, OK!? It jus sounded like a cool title, aw'right!? So, havin said that, let's continue.

-----------------------------

I've got some rather bad arthritis in my back and so I take some Heavy-Duty Industrial Strength Pain Pills to alleviate th pain. They work pretty good most of th time, and if ya don't believe me, jus ask fookin Rush Limbaugh! But one of th pesky side effects is; they make me drowsy. Usually every afternoon, I wind up takin a little nap whether I want to or not. There's a warning on th bottle cautioning about drivin a car and operatin heavy machinery. I don't know why, but it doesn't say a damn thing about spewin incessant garbage out over th airways while ya got yer head up yer ass, but never mind that! Anyways, I try and stay away from th heavy machinery, but I do have to drive my car in spite of th risks.

So, of course, I fall asleep several times a month while drivin. And altho it's a nuisance and inconvenience, so far, this has only resulted in one Fatality; a small sapling I wiped out on th way home from th grocery store. Man, it was strange, cuz, like, I was drivin along, mindin my own business, when all of a sudden, WHAM! THUD! Th impact woke me up and initially I was confused, cus, like, I didn't know what had happened! I thought, "Whut th fu....?" cuz there didn't appear to be anything I'd hit. So, I got out of th car and that's when I saw it. Curses! My heart sank when I saw a young sapling, lying there, sprawled out and mangled underneath th front end of my car. It was immediately obvious that no amount of resuscitation was gonna revive it, so I didn't even bother. Wasn't nothin could be done. It was a goner, fer sure! I felt badly, y'know, cuz like, here was a young life snuffed out and cut short and now some mother oak was without her offspring, and I was responsible. I bowed my head, paid my respects best I could, spoke a few words and then egressed th hell of there, burnin rubber fer half a block, before th homeowner could take me to task. I got a vivid image of im excoriating me, wagging his finger at me, reminding me that, now becus of my irresponsible actions, th young tree would never grow up to see his daughter go out on her first date.... or be there for her graduation... or be there for her wedding, blah, blah, blah. Oh fuck, gimme some slack, Duke! I wasn't in th mood fer any sermons on Personal Responsibility, y'know whut ahm sayin!

So, I left a note of condolence, "Sorry bout that!" which I stapled on it's small trunk. (well sheeit, it was beyond pain now anyway, y'know) I can only hope my message provided em some small bit of comfort and helped em to cope with their loss.

Th whole thing got me to thinkin tho, I'm wondering if there isn't some way I could encase my car with a ring of balloons, or mebbe a big rubber apron of sorts, y'know, kinda like tugboats wear, jus somethin or other, so, like, I could jus bounce off any objects or peoples I might happen to run into while napping. Prolly would make parking difficult, but I guess there's always a price to pay for Safety, eh!?

Meanwhile, along with a renewed effort to be more vigilant, combined with th aid of some stimulants, I'm fightin th urge to pass out while drivin. Like, here I am, right now, havin successfully managed to drive home without once noddin off. Some where out there, there's a tree, whose goin to live to see another spring, and I feel Good about that!

th cap'm


Subject: A JOKE: The Pope & Pelosi
Date: Saturday, October 17, 2009 12:57 PM

My buddy, Mistuh Gabby sent this to me. So, in a Spirit of Bipartisanship, I'm passin it on.

th cap'm

-------------------------------------------------------------

The Pope and Nancy Pelosi are on stage in front of a huge crowd. The Pope leans towards Mrs. Pelosi and said, "Do you know that with one little wave of my hand I can make every person in this crowd go wild with joy?

This joy will not be a momentary display, like that of your followers, but go deep into their hearts and for the rest of their lives whenever they speak of this day they will rejoice!"

Pelosi replied, "I seriously doubt that; with one little wave of your hand? Show me."

So the Pope slapped her.

Subject: Great cartoon
Date: Thursday, October 15, 2009 3:59 AM

OK ya'll, here's th deal. My buddy, Tommy th D, outta Houston, sent a cartoon to me yesterday. I looked at it and drew a blank, like, what th fu....? Cuz, it was jus too fuckin simple, y'know? There wasn't nothin heavy there. No subtle humor. Th drawin style, th message.... I don't know, I jus wasn't connectin. It consisted of three panels and there were two crudely drawn stick figures in each panel.

One of em was holdin a bottle, and in th first panel, the Other guy said,

"You need to quit drinking."

In th second panel; they were still in th same positions, nothin changed, but th guy with th bottle replied,

"You need to shut the fuck up!"

and in th third and last panel, th guy with th bottle had it raised to his mouth!

Yep, that was it! I was thinkin.... so what's so funny bout that? I looked at it again and again, and read it a several more times searchin fer some hidden meaning. Mebbe somthin I overlooked, somthin subtle I missed? But still... nothin!! Sheeit, there jus wasn't anything more there, y'dig! Thas all there was. So I was goin to delete it, but fer some reason.... I didn't!

So, later on in th evening, I was sittin there at th bar at Bobby Baker's, and I kept thinkin bout that stupid assed cartoon.... wonderin why I hadn't jus gone ahead and deleted it? I mean, I had read th damned thing a dozen times, and it had left me blank......but suddenly, I broke out in a big grin, and chuckled out loud, right there at th bar......cus, all at once, it hit me. I got it! It resonated with me perfectly. I laffed again, partly cuz I couldn't actually believe that it had taken me so long to understand! Yeah sure!! It made perfect sense to me cuz, I realized that.... I was THAT guy! Ha ha

That guy with th bottle and th Attitude! That was ME! I chuckled again as it brought to my mind instantly, th lyrics to that song by RAGE AGAINST THE MACHINE,

"Fuck you! I don't have to do what you tell me! Fuck you! I don't have to do what you tell me! Fuck you! I don't have to do what you tell me! Fuck you! I don't have to do what you tell me!............." on and on. I'm sure you've heard th song before, right?! I always had related to those lyrics, cus, sheeit, ese, that coulda been my Anthem!

And so, with that kinda spirit in mind, check it out.......there wasn't no fancy drawin style! Th message was simple and straight forward, nothin subtle about it.... Th message was, it IS what it is! Trite and lame, but True! Th message as RAGE AGAINST THE MACHINE so aptly put it was,

FUCK YOU! I DON'T HAVE TO DO WHAT YOU TELL ME!!
I'LL DO WHATEVER TH FUCK I WANT!!

To which I can only reply, I'm with ya Brutha!!

Man, I need to see some more of this dude's material cuz, he's jake with me!!

th cap'm


Subject: MAC LAND AIN'T NO HOLIDAY LAND
Date: Wednesday, October 14, 2009 6:04 PM

I have written several times about th problems I have had with this Mac almost from th very first day. I thought I bought an Apple, but they sold me a Lemon instead! (scuuuse me, yeah, I know, pretty trite, pretty lame; but I couldn't resist) And, even tho I've mentioned it, you have no idea of how much trouble I've actually had with this damned thing. Th few times I have said something are only th tip of th iceberg. Various friends of mine have written to tell me bout how wonderful their Macs are; and not jus th ones they currently have, but also all th ones they had in past lives. They tell me how pleasant and trouble-free their experience has been. Not so with me tho! Jus th opposite in fact. With me, it's been more like a Tsunami of..... oh never mind th trite, overdone metaphors.... but now, after 5 months, I'm beginnin to think I've figured out th Problema!

I'm thinkin, it's jus another facet of th all encompassin, "Get the Captain Conspiracy!" I've hipped ya to this before! It now seems obvious to me that the peoples at Apple have joined forces with those fiends at Time-Warner and AT&T. Thas th only explanation I can come up with, cuz th peoples at Apple appear to be in some kinda Denial. They seem to be convinced that they have made, finally, Man's Ultimate Dream, the Perfect Machine! Yep, even tho th fucker does things that, even they admit, it's not supposed to, th problem isn't th Mac itself, y'see, naah, it's th software.....or th server.... or ... th alignment of th planets... or ME...... anything but th godam fuckin Mac itself, cuz It's Perfect, y'dig!

No matter how many times (4 now) their techs at "The Genius Bar" try to solve the problem by wipin out everything on th damned thing, resettin all th various and numerous settings, startin over from scratch, th problem persists! Ergo, their excuses fer their faulty product are only a lame cover-up of their Real Purpose, which is to Upset me and cause me Severe Mental Anguish and Frustration, stressin me out to th Max! I ask you, what other logical explanation could there be? Nada, amigos!

I wonder though: just how deep this thing goes? This conspiracy I mean. Besides th aforementioned curs, T-W, AT&T, Apple, there are others involved, like th Bush/Cheny Coalition, Bill O'Reilly, Michelle Malkin, Laura Ingram, Sean Hannity, Ann Coulter and of course, The High Clown, Glenn Beck, who has his own nefarious plans to usurp King Limbaugh, as he Reigning Fucknut. Sure! They and their minions are all in on it.

But y'know what; it goes even deeper than that. Thas right! It goes all th way back to El Numero Uno hisself,ya know who I'm talkin about: my Double-Plus Nemesis of the past 40 years, th String-Puller, the Master Puppeteer, none other than DICK NIXON hisself! I mean, once again, he reaches out to me, even from th grave. Like, what other possible explanation could there be? Y'see how simple it is when ya connect all th dots boyz n gurlz?! While I hate to admit it, I do, but I learned that little trick from watchin Glenn Beck. He knows how to connect th dots to make a coherent point, so..... a reluctant shout-out from th cap'm to GB!

As ya know I'm sure, from past ramblins, I don't like Dick Nixon. He doesn't like me either. Our enmity goes all the way back to California in the early '60s, and by the time of his take-over coup in '68, we were already sworn enemies. Then, back in '70, he lashed out and had his flunkies send me off to one of his Federal Rehabilitation Centers, where I was confined in a sub-par housing unit, with no view at all and given some OJT (on the job training) in the proper application of The Mop! And in an act of subtle Rebellion and Disobedience, jus to show im he couldn't break me, I purposely did a shitty job on every hall I was assigned. "TAKE THAT" I would mutter defiantly under my breath.

And try tho I might, to put his evil visage outta my mind and thoughts, it was impossible. I used to lay there in my rack at nights and look at the rats scurryin about and invariably, they always reminded me of Tricky Nixey, with their dark, shifty beady eyes and furtive manner, sniffin about. On bad nights, I would dream of the rats and giant roaches crawlin and scramblin over me, and then their faces would morph into His, and I would bolt upright with a start. Th ugly bastard! No, I harbored ill will towards him and all his flunky minions there. I got into several spirited arguments with my warders over our then current efforts to bring Democracy to th unlucky bastards of S. Vietnam; peoples who had utterly no desire or even basic understanding of the Concept of Democracy. Nah, all they wanted to do was plant and harvest their fuckin rice. But nooo, we insisted,

"Here! Here's some fuckin Democracy, Take some. Go ahead. You'll like it!!"

and they would respond,

"Um.. thanks, but uh..... well, we got a crop of rice we needs to be plantin, y'know, to feed th family and stuff, but thanks anyway."

And our reaction was,

"OK Cholly, whut can we do to convince ya? Whadda'ya say we drop some bombs, like in a hail of rain on yer heads! Would that help ya see th benefits of Democracy?"

cuz goddamit, we were prepared to kill as many of them as necessary in order to allow em to enjoy Freedom. But th Ungrateful Bastards took an el Paso on our offer and sent us scurryin. We looked like a bunch of cockroaches when th light comes on. And we left a lotta our former friends on th rooftops and danglin from th skids of th helicopters in our haste to beet feets. Wasn't a very pretty or inspirin sight.

Course, we soon made up fer that little debacle by successfully invadin Grenada and Panama jus to let folks know we weren't to be trifled with. You remember with Pride, don'cha those two great American Victories over Un-Democratic despots? There was that dictator down there in Grenada.. oh sheeit, what was his name... Maurice somthin or other? I ferget. And then there was Manuel Noriega, our CIA informant for many years who got his "pink slip" in a very unceremonious manner. What a way to get fired, eh? Ha ha

Y'know, I never have been able to figure out exactly why THE GREATEST COUNTRY IN THE HISTORY OF THE WORLD is so obsessed with insisting that every one else on th planet embrace our ideas of how they should conduct themselves? But it seems to be imbedded in our National Psyche. Now, if those pesky Iraqis, and Afghans and Iranians would just get on the Freedom Express like they're supposed to, well then, we could concentrate on those North Koreans, who like all the other peoples in the World desperately want some Democracy and Freedom of their own. All peoples want that!! I know that.... cus my President told me so!

Ooops, I'm sorry, I kinda got off track there, didn't I?!

Back to th Mac! OK, Here's th deal, I'm lookin to trade! Any one interested? I got a MAC OS X, hasn't been outta th box but a few months. Mebbe youse got a used toaster? Or.. a can opener? Electric please. If ya'll let me try em out first, it's not that I don't trust ya, y'know, but jus to make sure they work, mebbe we can do some dealin?!

th cap'm


Subject: A COUPLE MORE THOUGHTS ABOUT RUSH
Date: Tuesday, October 13, 2009 1:50 PM

I wonder why Fatso has never joined the rest of th psychotic wackos on Fucks News? Imagine a Dream Team with him partnered up with Glenn "Fucknut" Beck. Whooie, Wow! That would be like a Conservatives Ultimate Wet Dream, eh!

But, fer th rest of us, y'know, th normal, sane peoples, twould be more like our Worst Nightmare, full of ghouls, goblins, rotten corpses and blood sucking beasts. That dreamscape would make Mordor look like a summer resort. It would be akin to a Tsunami of Insanity engulfing us and washing away all Rational Thought, leaving in it's wake nothing but the flotsam and jetsam and detritus of their twisted minds.

On second thought, I don't wanna think about that anymore. Curses! I think I'm gonna skip my afternoon nap today!

th cap'm

P.S. My apologies to those, heavy of foot, referrin to him by that
pejorative nickname. Scuuse me!


Subject: A LITTLE STROLL DOWN MEMORY LANE
Date: Tuesday, October 13, 2009 5:30 AM

OK, as ya'll prolly know, I don't like Rush Limbaugh. Ya already knew that tho, didn't cha?! As a matter of fact, ya could say that when it comes to Rush, I'm a "hater", and I mean that in every sense of th word! Y'know how some peoples will say,

"Oh sure, there's peoples I don't like, but I don't reely "Hate" anyone!"

Well, I'm not one of those...cuz I HATE that sunuvabitch!! Looky here, if it were in my power to make bad things happen to that piece of shit, I'd spare no effort. I'd put that scumbag in a World of Hurt in a New Yawk second! But, SIGH, thats jus wistful thinkin! Thas only in my fantasy world, cuz here in th reel one, I can only daydream bout such things. But, anyway, I was jus lookin thru some old ramblins of mine and came across this bit from October 11th, 2003. You'll notice I didn't much care fer im then either!! Check it out.

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Subject: Take a hike Rush, you Phony-Assed Hypocrite

Yesterday I was listening to the radio and happened to pass a station where Rush Limbaugh was doing his usual demagogic thing. I must tell you I don't like Rush. He is in my book, and always has been, a Class 1-A Asshole of the First Magnitude, so I never listen to his garbage. I haven't heard Rush in years. But yesterday, just for the hell of it I decided to hear what he was going on about these days.
He was into a long rant lamenting the travails of the poor misunderstood rich peoples. Oh, I tell you, it's just terrible what they must endure according to Rush. Thank the gods if you are fortunate enough not to be rich, and if you're poverty stricken, fall to yer knees in gratitude! Gosh, I tell you, I felt like loading the car up with some canned goods and distributing them among the pitiful denizens of Mission Hills who will never experience the joys of living in a cardboard box under the Broadway Bridge.

Well, as the bile rose and I was getting ready to change the station, Rush announced that he was in fact, addicted to drugs and at the end of the broadcast, was going to commit himself to a drug treatment clinic. Now, I had heard some rumors of his addiction right after his pathetic, but typical, views on Donavan McNabb, but I just assumed it was wistful thinking among his detractors. But now, on his show, Rush is copping out to it himself. Oh Mercy! This phony asshole has been right there in the trenches in the War on Drugs for it's entire duration. Do you know how many times in the last fifteen years he has belittled and scorned any position that was not blatantly Anti-Drug. He has never shown anything but contempt and disgust for drug addicts, calling them "a bunch of pathetic, weak-willed cowards" almost daily. And now, guess what boyz and gurlz? This Prince of Hypocrites be's one hisself! Ha ha. Man, I find that highly Ironic and amusing. No kidding, as I drove down the streets he had me giggling with glee and grinning from ear to ear. I wanted to roll my windows down and shout out,

"Rush Limbaugh admitted he is a dirty Dope Fiend!"

One of his supporters said of Rush's ability to "beat" his addiction, and I paraphrase here,

"Rush is as strong willed a person as I've ever known. If anyone can beat this, Rush can."

I guess he wasn't aware of "strong willed" Rush's two failed previous attempts. If you are like me and have ever wondered what fueled his daily vitriolic and near hysterical ravings we now know; kids, check this out; we have been listening to the whacked out ramblings of a drug-addled mind totally strung out on Oxycontin. For years boyz and gurlz. For years!!!!!

the cap't

PS Now it all makes a certain kind of sense, doesn't it?!

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

10/13/09

And here we are, jus a few days past a Sixth Anniversary of sorts, and that sack of shit is bigger than ever. While yer ordinary, regular, run of th mill drug addicts are doin years in the joint fer their transgressions, this ass hole is thinkin bout buyin hisself a football team. Man, there jus ain't No Justice!!

th cap'm


Subject: OBAMA WINS THE NOBEL PEACE PRIZE
Date: Saturday, October 10, 2009 2:04 PM

It was only a week ago that the Right Wing were getting falling down drunk celebrating our failure to win Chicago as the site of th 2016 Olympics. The President himself, made a personal effort to make our case, and when the committee chose Rio instead, the sneers and jeers were deafening, and their mocking of him knew no bounds. It didn't matter to them that the United States as a country was the real loser; they just saw it as an opportunity to make it appear as though it was President Obama's personal fault, and they were besides themselves with glee and jubilation. The battle cry among all the Right Wing Fucknuts, the Limbaughs, the Becks, the Hannitys, the O'reillys, et al, was "HIP HIP HOORAY, HE LOST!!"

Completely ignoring the fact that it was the country itself, their own country, that had lost. And remember, these are the same peoples who claim to be the most Patriotic among us, the tea-baggers, the birthers, the deathers, the ones who like to wrap themselves up in the flag, the Michelle Bachmans, who wanted to investigate members of congress to see whether they are pro-American, or anti-American. And here they were, clapping and cheering because the United States was passed over for the Olympic's site. Hallelujah!

Now, this week, Barack Obama, The President of The United States, has been awarded the most prestigious international honor there is: The Nobel Peace Prize! And yet, there is this loud, vocal faction, the very same fucking Idiots who berated and mocked him last week, once again act as though he had just shamed us in some unfathomable way. Oh th Horror! The President of our country has won an award which is honored through out the world. Isn't that fucking terrible?! Sheeit. It just makes you ashamed to be an American doesn't it?! What the fuck is with these peoples? Ironic and Surreal isn't it?! And pretty fucking disgusting too!

Peoples in other countries must be baffled at some reactions here. They must wonder; what the fuck is it with these Americans anyway? This award reflects highly on the entire country as much as it does him personally, and yet they act as though he just shit on their living room rug. This is the first time in 90 years that a sitting American President has been so honored, and still, these peoples treat it as an insult. Damn, it's just unbelievable. Rush Limbaugh and the Taliban are in lock step. Yeah, Rush Limbaugh, Super Patriot! Sheeit!! That fat fuck, drug-addled Idiot ought to be spewing his garbage out on Taliban Airways.

Well, it's obvious that fuckers like him and his "dittoheads" are so opposed to Obama, that it wouldn't matter what he ever did; they would never give him credit for anything. If Obama talked personally with Mohammed Omar, the leader of the Taliban, and Omar delivered the head of Osama Bin Laden to him in a paper bag as a gesture of goodwill, Rush Limbaugh would criticize him for accepting a gift from a Muslim.

And on reflection, it's kind of amusing when you remember that the University of Arizona, best known for it's reputation as a "party school", wouldn't give Obama an "Honorary Degree", a dubious honor to begin with, on the grounds he hadn't accomplished enough yet. Ha ha The fact that he had managed to become PRESIDENT OF THE GREATEST COUNTRY IN THE HISTORY OF THE WORLD, (so to speak) didn't meet their high standards! "Yeah, yeah, out of three hundred millions of us you managed to become President! But, what have you done lately?"

Oh mercy! Hmm, I wonder if the folks on the Nobel Peace Prize Committee were aware that their nominee didn't qualify for an Honorary Degree from the University of Arizona? You think that might have changed their minds?

OK, now, look here, when it gets right down to it, I'm not so sure that Obama deserves this award either? But on the other hand, I don't know who the other contenders were, and what their qualifications were? I have no idea of the criteria the Nominating committee uses to select their choice? And, since it is, after all, a strictly subjective decision, I can understand some one saying they believe some one else was better qualified, BUT, for crying out loud; for all of you naysayers, whether you agree with the decision or not, it's still an Honor for OUR President to get it, and since he was awarded it.... just shut the fuck up and accept it.

th cap'm


Subject: THE PRISONER
Date: Thursday, October 8, 2009 5:05 AM

I have been watchin re-runs of this series, starrin Patrick McGoohan, which ran originally back in th late '60s. If you've never seen it before, it's well worth watchin.It's kinda hard to explain, but basically it's about a British spy who is kidnapped and taken to this mysterious village, populated by some pretty weird peoples, who all seem to have been brainwashed, and no one is allowed to leave th place. There's a whacky marching band who dress in what looks like psychedelic, medieval jester costumes, and seem to have no purpose other than to march about, from one place to another, playing some martial marching band music.

Everyone has a number there instead of a name, and our man is called Number 6, and his nemesis is called Number 2, who is tryin to get Number 6 to explain why he abruptly resigned from his Secret Agent gig. We never do know why, or to whom this information is so important, but Number 2 tries all kind of subterfuges and nefarious schemes to get Number 6 to explain hisself. And poor Number 6 is totally confused by it all; has no idea where he is or why Number 2 wants this info, and is constantly tryin to escape, only to be caught by this giant white balloon called th Rover which floats around and engulfs him and brings him back. Like I said, it's hard to explain!!

But there's quite a difference in seein it today compared to '68 tho, cus then we dropped acid before each show and watched it on a little black and white 12" TV I had at th time. And hard as it is to understand now, as witnessed by my lame attempt to explain it; watch it one time and try and imagine what it was like with a hit of Orange Sunshine greatly fuckin with th chemical operation of yer brain!! Whooie! I'm tellin ya Duke, it was far fuckin out!!!

But, seein it today in color and on a 48" screen, it's much better, and even without th acid it's still a trippy show. I don't recall fer sure, but I think it only ran fer two seasons. Now, it runs on Friday nites on th IFC channel. If ya get a chance, check it out. I'm thinkin tho, that if ya didn't catch it from th beginning episode, ya could easily get confused and find yerself mutterin,

"What th fu.....?" every five minutes. Oh well, check it out anyway! As th conclusion of every chain-mail letter ya've ever received sez, "Whaddda'ya got to lose?"

th cap'm


Subject: RIGHT OR LEFT??
Date: Tuesday, October 6, 2009 10:43 PM

I was thinkin earlier about right versus left. How old are we when we first learn those concepts? I would imagine, and thas th best I can do, cus I don't remember, but I would think it must be one of the earliest things we learn, prolly even before we learn to count to ten.

But it's kinda strange to me; those concepts of right and left. They are such simple things, we jus take em fer granted. But, what exactly do they mean? Yeah sure, we all know where our right arms, legs, eyes and ears are, don't we? I mean, did'ja ever ferget which one of yer arms was th right one? I know, it doesn't happen often, but, like, if it did, would ya know how to go about figurin it out?

Aw'right, thas what I'm gonna splain to ya; how to handle that situation. OK, here's a little tip, jus in case some time ya actually Do ferget which is which. Like, supposin yer lookin at one of yer appendages and ya go,

"Hmmm, I dunno! Is that my right leg or my left? I fergot!"

Well, ya could take a guess and ya'd have a 50-50 chance of bein right, or should I say, correct! But...... what if it was reel important to get it right? Here's what ya do. First thing ya need to do is to go out and buy yerself a compass. Now, on a clear day, outdoors, ya wouldn't need that, but at night time or say in cloudy, inclement weather, or if yer indoors, th compass is reel important.

So.... here's what ya do. Use yer compass to first determine which way is North? Once ya have established that, then face yerself northwards. Aw'right, now facin north, look at th appendage which is then on yer East side. That would be yer Right. So...th leg on yer East side is yer Right leg! And th one on th other side, th West side; that would be yer Left leg. Got that? This works every time boyz n gurlz. I guarantee it! It's fool proof. if ya don't wanna take my word fer it, try this method yerself. You'll see! And then ask one of yer friends to confirm it.

Now, on a sunny day, if yer clever, instead of a compass, ya could use th position of th sun to determine which way is North, and then go from there accordin to my instructions

OK, a quick review of what we've learned; remember, facin North, things on th East side are on th Right side. Things on th West side are on th Left side.

Good luck and let me know how it works out. (it's de rigueur fer all Advice Columnists to say that.)

By th way, My Advice Column fer the Dumb and Stupid is called, "This Is Yer Captain Speaking" th

cap'm

P.S. By th way, my buddy, Beeg Jeem ast me if I was still smokin dope? Cuz he said, based on my screeds, it appeared I still might be. I answered that with a question of my own, "I'm still alive aren't I, and so, why, pray tell, would I stop?"


Subject: CLOSE ENCOUNTERS OF THE WEIRD KIND
Date: Monday, October 5, 2009 6:20 PM

Since the demise of Mike's Tavern, my new hangout is out at Bobby Baker's, 74 Terr. and Wornall. A much smaller place, but with a somewhat older crowd. I like it like that. Th only drawback for me is that they don't have a pool table, but it's jus not big enuff. Bobby's a good man and his staff are mostly related, and all of em are friendly. I have another good friend who works there in th days, Beeg Jeem, but I don't see him very often cuz I'm on th late nite shift, and he's long gone by th time I get there. We go way back to the mid '60s and tho we've always been on different sides of the fence politically, we're still simpatico. We had many spirited discussions back durin th Vietnam War, and today he keeps me well informed on Th Right Side of current issues. LOL. Should ya lean in that direction yerself, ya would certainly enjoy his daily output. He told an amusin story Saturday afternoon about one time many years ago down in New Orleens durin Mardi Gras, he got popped takin a leak in a revolving door.

I ast him how many times he went around before they nailed im? LOL

Well, anyway, this last Thursday nite I met a rather interesting character there in th bar. A big dude, 6' 4" mebbe 250 lbs, older, 57 years old, who has led quite a life. I heard about it fer 2 1/2 hours, pretty much non-stop. Lemme summarize it if I can.

He's Irish/Sicilian. Grew up and spent a lotta time in Boston. Whitey Bulger, th notorious Boston gangster, who has been Number 1 on th FBI's Most Wanted list fer about ten years now is his cousin. He lived in Belfast fer several years and has some IRA connections. Sometimes likes to vacation in "th old country", Sicily, that is. He's related to some of th DeCalvacantes, outta Joisy. Also th Trafficantes outta S. Florida and Carlos Marcello outta New Orleens. He's got a lotta relatives, you see.

Fer years, he was a salesman of high end cars, like yer Rolls, Mercedes, Beemers. Porsches, etc. Always made big time bucks doin that. Couple hundred K a year, y'know. He also wrote speeches fer Zig Zigler, and if ya've ever been a salesman yerself, ya know who he is; a big time Motivational Speaker, who's made a living tellin other guys in seminars how to Sell fer 40+ years now. Had lotsa amusin Zig anecdotes. He also was a speech writer fer Nancy Reagan's JUST SAY NO campaign. I managed to mention I was in Germany in th late '50s, but before I could elaborate, he started tellin me stories of his adventures in Berlin. Oh man, th stories, the booze, th frauleins, whew!

About this time, y'know, jus tryin to contribute to th conversation a bit, I was about to tell im about a little incident I had in Costa Rica, but he interrupted me to tell me about th 15 years he lived in Mexico. Man, th chiquitas there! Caramba!! Finally, I said,

"Hey dude, thas about th tenth fuckin time you have interrupted me. I have sat here listenein to yer stories now fer a fuckin hour and it's time fer you to listen to one of mine now, otherwise this conversation is done!"

He apologized and said, "Scuse me, Go ahead!"

I could tell very easily tho he wasn't reely listenin, and so I jus cut th story short, cus why even bother, y'know what I mean?! As soon as I left an opening, he proceeded to tell me of his involvement with th Contras in Nicaragua. Man, that whole gun runnin can be a pretty risky bizness, y'know, cuz I heard about several close calls he had. Pretty hush-hush bizness too, y'dig!? And hell, besides th money, it was fer a Just Cause, long live th Freedom Fighters! And oh man, those Nicaraguan chicks, were they appreciative!!

I told im I went to high school in California durin th '50s but he interrupted me to tell me he had lived in Corona Del Mar, and Balboa beach, and all up and down th coast. He has a relative there in LA who owns 16 high rise condos and to two hotels. he also tole me one of his relatives was one of th original founders of "La Eme", y'know, th Mexican Mafia. And this was kinda strange, but Maxine Waters, th California Congress person is also related to him too.

And oh yeah, lest I forget, "back in th day" he was friends with Billy J Clinton, before he was Governor. He scored a lotta chicks fer ol Billy, so th Monica affair didn't surprise im one bit. Sheeit, that was jus th tip of th iceberg.

I listened to this guy fer jus about two hours, and I was waitin to see if he was mebbe related to Putin also, but I couldn't take any more. Oh, by th way, he runs Belton/Raymore these days, Yeah, I know, it's not Brooklyn, but ..........

Th last thing he told me was that he was that he was 1/3 Irish, 1/3 Sicilian and 1/3 Hispanic. I told im that wasn't possible. He said, "Why not?" I tried to explain that when ya are dividin things by 2, ya can't ever come up with a third. Not mathematically possible. He insisted he was. I said.

"Good night!"

OK, so then Saturday nite, I was sittin there, quietly quaffin my brews and this guy comes up and jus starts rappin with me. About 50 years old, wearin a tam o'shanter cap, complimented me on my lid. He jus came from an Irish funeral of his brother/cousin/uncle. I'm not sure which, cuz it changed every few minutes with th retellin. What th hell, jus a minor detail, right?!

He ast me what kind of instrument I played? I told him, none. He said,

"Bullshit, you got musical talent!!

I said,

"No, I don't. I wanted to be a musician when I was younger, but it didn't take any time at all to discover I didn't have any musical talent of any kind!"

He said, "Don't try and bullshit a bullshitter! I KNOW you got musical talent."

"Nah, I don't, really! My son however is a multi-talented musician, but whatever musical talents he has, he got them all from his Mom. cus he got absolutely nothin from me!!"

Bein not fazed at all, He said,

"So, what do you play?"

And I said once again, startin to get bit pissed now,

"I told ya dude, I don't have any musical talent and th only thing I play is th radio, and I don't do that very goddam good either. Too much static, y'dig!

He said,

"Hey, I'm an observer of people. I see things. I know what's happening! You got musical talent. Don't deny it!!"

That pretty much did it fer me! I've told this fuckin asshole now a half-dozen times I have no musical talent and don't play any musical instruments, but he's not buyin it.

So now I said pretty heatedly.

"Look here Duke, I'm 67 years old and I know by now what my talents are and what my limitations are, and you jus met me 15 minutes ago! You don't even know my fucking name and yet yer tryin to tell me you know me better than I know my own self! What th fuck is th matter with you? I'm an observer of peoples myself and what I have learned from observin you fer th past 20 minutes is that YOU ARE A COMPLETE FUCKING IDIOT AND OUGHTA BE IN AN INSTITUTION OF SOME KIND. NOW FUCK OFF AND BOTHER SOME ONE ELSE!"

He was taken aback and said somthin or other, like,

"You don't have to get all squirrelly on me. I was jus tryin to be friendly." I said,

"Fuck you. Go be friendly some place else!"

Why are these kinda peoples attracted to me like moths to a flame? Huh? Why me? Well, I'm jus relating these tales fer those of ya who are settled down these days and don't get out much anymore and spend yer evenings at home with yer families. These are th kinda peoples and situations yer missin!

Yeah, I know, I know, it's OK, ya can't help but bein jealous and envious, but dammit, ya made yer own choices, and now ya gotta live with em. Jus remember if it helps, th old cliche bout th grass on th other side of th fence.

th cap'm

P.S. Jus in case yer curious, my musical talents are limited to th point of nonexistence! Y'know, if ya were wonderin?


Subject: HUBRIS TOO MUCH
Date: Saturday, October 3, 2009 6:01 PM

Recently, Jan, a good friend of mine from th olden days wrote me and commented on a room a mutual friend of ours had, where he had encased th room in mylar, a very shiny reflective film that was very flexible and didn't wrinkle like tin foil. I bought that film from our amigo Tillar, and used it in a couple of cribs of my own. I suggested that she was remembering it from my place, but she insisted she saw it in his apartment first.

Now, of course ya know, that in situations like this, I'm always right! Cuz I got a mind like a razor. We know that, don't we! Well OK, mebbe not always, but most of th time!! OK, OK.......well mebbe not most of th time, BUT...sometimes!! You'll give me that, won't ya!!

So, I went to th source, th Tillar hisself, to confirm my rightness, y'know, fer confirmation!! And th answer I got back was....uh....um, well not exactly what I was lookin fer. CURSES! It would appear that razor mind of mine sat out in th elements too long and mebbe got a bit rusty. But anyways, I'm gonna share his reply with ya, not so much to confirm Jan's position here, cuz, dammit, I was wrong, OK!? I admit it. GRRR. Are ya satisfied now!? But I'm sendin his reply cuz it's kinda typical of those times, at least if ya were goin to th Kansas City Art Institute at th time like Tillar was. This was th 60's, y'dig.

-------------------------------------------

"Jan is correct - I had a little apartment on Main Street neat 43rd Street - it was in the basement of on old electrician's shop. The room was almost perfectly square 10'x 10' high x 10' wide. I bought the mylar from a guy who built an exhibit at the Nelson Art Gallery & I hung it on all 4 walls & the ceiling. (so did I, so did I! cd) I also had an old wooden wire spool table - about 3' in diameter with a round mirror for the top surface. I hung tiny xmas lights at the ceiling - a pretty good apartment! (the apartment had a gas fired heater in one corner - I'm lucky I didn't burn the place to the ground! I did melt a very nice stereo headphone when I somehow left them on top of the stove one night)

A funny story with that place - I was paying $35/month for the room - (check that out Duke, 35 bucks a month!! LOL cd Tales from th past. ) it had a bathroom down the hall with an ancient wood box 6' above the stool. Anyhow Ron Brown was kicked out of his old apartment & moved into the closet of my room - it was just big enough for a mattress (single size) on the floor of the closet. So Ron & I had the room for $35/month. A little later Ron's girl friend moved in (to the closet). All was fine until we were all happily smoking our favorite smoke when the guy I was renting from smelled the wonderful aroma, came into the room & found three people living in a 10' square apartment. I think I was out the next day. Probably the neatest place I ever rented! At the door to the place - at the back was an old wooden deck with a corrugated slanting roof - reminded me of an old western store front. The whole building is long gone!
-------------------------------

Tales from th past, eh. Aaaah, those were th days my friend, we thought they would never end! But then Life intervened!

th cap'm


Subject: Fwd: Paul Hipp: "We're Number 37!"
Saturday, October 3, 2009 4:34 PM

My buddy Vegas Judy sent this my way. We're number 37, Hip
Hip Hooray!!

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/paul-hipp/were-number-37_b_281979.html

th cap'm



Subject: Television - TV Shack
Date: Tuesday, September 29, 2009 1:21 PM

OK ya'll, here is an Uber-Cool site sent my way by my buddy Th Swalm. He sent it to me in regards to th thing I wrote about Dragnet. I just watched th first episode of Dragnet in 1951; it's a trip boyz n gurlz!! But there is a wealth of material there for you. It has Tons of Movies, TV shows, Documentaries, and so on. Th shows can take a bit to download, but it's worth th wait. You'll like this site, AND keep this in mind.......it comes complete with Th Cap'm's Guarantee of Satisfaction, or Double Yer Money Back!! How can ya gone wrong on that? You must check it out.

http://tvshack.net/tv

P.S. By the way, if fer some ungodly reason yer not satisfied and ya would like to take advantage of that Guarantee, all I can say is........ GET REAL!! YOU MUST BE OUTTA YER FOOKIN MIND!!


Subject: DRAGNET RETURNS
Date:Sunday, September 27, 2009 10:48 PM

Sgt. Joe Friday and Barack

OK, a buddy sent this to me. This is a small clip from th revival of th series in th mid to late ‘60s. I hope ya can access it cus it's reely amusin in their not so subtle efforts to manipulate public opinion of th times.

Hell, I remember Dragnet very well and as a dumb fuckin kid, I liked it. Sheeit, I used to eagerly look forward to it every week, laying around on th living room floor and listenin to it on th radio.
"DUM DA DUM DUM!! My name is Joe Friday and I'm a cop!"

It was great! Well, as I mentioned, I was jus a dumb fuckin kid of th late '40's and early '50's, sheeit, whad I know?! Then it went to th TeeVee in th 50's and it was reely cool. But then when they revived it in th mid sixties, I was a much different person then and it jus got to be a joke. They used that show to push th whole Nixonian notions of Law and Order, anti-drug hysteria, and to rail against Juvenile Delinquency and th Anti-Authoritarian un-washed hippies. Joe Friday did every thing but dress imself up in th flag every episode. His uber-patriotic bullshit rhetoric jus got to be too much to be taken seriously. So we took it fer laffs instead! We used to sit around and get stoned and listen with glee as he and his side kick spewed every trite, American Propagandistic cliche they could fit into one show. So, keep that flavor in mind as ya listen to them mouthin th American Way to th contrite and ashamed Obama in th video.

Furthermore, I would bet any amount of money that in that particular episode, they were lecturing some long-haired hippie kid they'd rounded up in some protest march. This little sermon they deliver here is typical of th crap they uttered week after week from around '66 to 69 or 70, don't remember fer sure. Well sheeit, it was 40 years ago, and besides, I was pretty fucked up most of th time then. Fuck! Y'know, it was th 60's Duke!!

Today, it wouldn't surprise me in th slightest to find out that th Nixon White House pre-approved, if not provided, th scripts for them; th bias was that blatant! Th anti-dope shows were th best tho, showin kids goin literally crazy on The Devil Weed Marijuana; they were nothin more than modern day versions of "Reefer Madness" in their silliness and outright absurdity. They had kids jus goin berserk, climbin th walls, cowerin in th corners cryin and slobberin fer their Mommies, completely freakin out cus they needed their next "Marijuana fix"! Needin it Reel Bad, y'know!! You Potheads out there know th soul wrenchin anguish I'm rappin about, don'cha?! It was a genuine hoot! And this little clip brought it all back, not th dope part, but jus th general tone of th shows. If yer younger, ya might wonder what I'm carryin on about; mebbe it's one of those deals where.......ya jus had to be there!!

th cap'm