joe dreck
August 26, 2005

Joe Dreck is The Captain...a participant in Badgeronomics and Web TV marketing.
Email Capthoohah@webTV.net.

Subject: More babble on th' badger sighting
Date:
Thursday, August 25, 2005 3:28 PM

Judgin' from th' reactions of a number of peoples, it's a good thing I didn't report seein' a UFO, cuz it wuz commonly suggested that I wuz mebbe' drunk, or stoned, or hallucinatin'. This over merely claimin' ta' have seen a badger!! Hmmmmm.....my Credibility Quotient seems ta' be rather low. Whyzzzat, I wonder?

Now, under th' weight of public opinion I'm beginnin' ta' question whether I did in fact, see a badger after all? Peoples who are familiar with th' “wild life” of th' region (and I'm not referrin' ta' party-goers either) are sayin' I most likely saw a groundhog. Well, they could be right, but it kinda reminds me of how they tell th' peoples who claim ta' see UFO's, that it wuz actually only Venus risin' or somthin.

Is there some kind of 'badger cover-up' goin' on here? Is there a conspiracy to keep "th Truth about Badgers" from th' Amerikan public? Have I unwittingly glommed onta' somthin' that Nixon and his minions don't want us ta' know about? Jus' whut is his 'badger agenda' anyway?

On th' other hand, it could jus' be a case of mistaken identity. Mebbe there's nothin' sinister goin' on after all? Admittedly, I do tend ta' see Nixon's fingerprints on most things that I can't explain. I suppose that if ya' put that 'alleged' badger in a line-up with some other
similar critters, I might have a hard time pickin' 'im out, cuz.... well..... it wuz dark in there....... and I did only see 'im fer a brief fleeting moment, so.........Quien sabe?

So, fer now, I guess it'll jus' have'ta' remain another one of Life's Unsolved Mysteries eh!

th cap't


Subject: a bit more humor from mike g.
Date:
Thursday, August 25, 2005 2:46 PM

A man appeared before St. Peter at the pearly gates.

"Have you ever done anything of particular merit?" St. Peter asked,

"Well, I can think of one thing," the man offered.

"Once, on a trip to the Black Hills out in South Dakota, I came upon a gang of high-powered bikers who were threatening a young woman. I directed them to leave her alone, but they wouldn't listen. So I approached the largest and most heavily-tattooed biker and smacked him on the head, kicked his bike over, ripped out his nose ring, and threw it on the ground." I yelled,

"Now, back off!! Or you will answer to me!"

St. Peter was impressed.

"When did this happen?" he asked.

"Just a couple of minutes ago."


Subject: I'm baaack! Return of th' Cap't
Date:
Thursday, August 25, 2005 1:20 PM

I know, I know, a lotta' peoples are goin',

"So, who's this fuckin' Cap't? And has he been gone? And why should I give a shit if he's back anyway?!"

Oh sure, there's peoples like that, but fer all you other boyz and gurlz, ya' can stop th' handwringin' and th' teeth gnashin', cuz everything's OK. It was naught but a temporary interruption. Th' earth will not be spinnin' off it's axis and everything is OK now.

See whut happened wuz; my webtv got zapped by lightning a while back and I ordered a new one from RCA. This RM-4100 wuz a new advanced, improved model of th' RM 2100 I had been usin' fer th' past two years; faster, more powerful they said, with lotsa' cool new features.. Sheeit. Whut a crock!! I can tell ya' one thing fer sure; th' Intelligent Designer had nothin' ta' do with that design of that piece of shit!
I could easily give ya' a dozen different examples of how th' older system wuz more efficient, more “user friendly” and I did, ta' a dozen different peoples at RCA, none of whom gave a shit!! Couldn't care less! After all, they didn't design it, as I wuz repeatedly told.

Then...th' piece of shit only worked fer two days before it shot craps. Then another series of phone calls ensued ta' a bunch of other peoples who also didn't give a shit. I'm tellin' ya', in th' last week I've spent prolly 7-9 hours on “hold” while I talked ta' more than a dozen different peoples from RCA and MSN. After finally gettin' ahold of someone they would give me a number ta' call; then when I finally got a hold of a Human there, they would give me a number ta' call, which would be th' same fuckin' number I called originally. Ya've no doubt experienced that kinda bullshit before!! This merry-go-round went on fer days.

Finally in a "moment of frustration" I suggested that perhaps th' assassination of th CEO wuz in order....No, No, No, just kiddin'. I'm only joshin'!! Ha ha. But, whut th' hell, if th' Righteous Pat Robertson, Baptist Minister, founder of th' Christian Coalition, former presidential candidate, God bless 'im, can make outrageous statements, why can't I?

But anyway, I did tell th' last person I talked ta', "Fuck YOU! Fuck RCA and Fuck MSN and FUCK ALL YOU PEOPLES!!!"

and gently hung up.

So now, I am currently usin' th' Sony webtv unit I bought back in Jan. 98'. Tho it's almost 8 years old, and not exactly state-of-th' art, it'll have ta' do fer th' moment. So, if ya' can remember, please don't send me any kind of photo attachments cuz they take up waaay too much broadband fer this unit ta' handle.

Awright!?

Later fer now.

th' cap't


Subject: Mystery solved
Date:
Monday, August 15, 2005 11:20 AM

In case yer wonderin', cuz like, normally I wouldn't be up babblin' this time of th' morn. I'm usually racked out now, but earlier I had this quack stickin' a two foot long rubber tube down my throat. Man, I'm not gonna' be doin' that shit again any time soon!! I'd rather jus' go ahead and keep on chokin' when I'm eatin'.

th' cap't

P.S. Prior ta' th' insertion, ta' ease my concerns, Doctor Quacker told me of a little ol' lady who self-administers her tube every couple of weeks. He didn't mention she's prolly in th' Bughouse tho.


Subject: New pertinent information vis a vis 'the badger'.
Date:
Monday, August 15, 2005 11:05 AM
OK. My good friend, Ms Sally sent me some info on th' badger. I seems they live from California to Missouri, from Texas ta' Canada, so I guess my sighting wuzn't anything ta' get excited about. But man, it sure excited th' shit outta' me fer a half-second. I'm not used ta' badgers scurrying by me as I go ta' get in my car, know whut I mean!

Like, accordin' ta' Ms. Sally's information, th' habitat of th' badger is:

"The American badger lives in open areas like plains and prairies, farmland, and the edges of woods."

Ya' notice it don't say nothin' bout no badgers livin' at or around 51st and Walnut. There aren't any plains, prairies, farmlands or woods around here....so whut's th' deal here? This must be some kinda' rogue badger. He can't live where th' rest of th' badgers live....no... he's gotta' be a rebel. Do it his way! Prolly a teenage badger, eh!

th' cap't

P.S. My buddy Tommy writes me that he's seen plenty badgers here in KC and Texas, but he says they were all drunk. But he's a Texan now, so make of it whut ya' will.


Subject: Badger Sighting
Date:
Monday, August 15, 2005 10:06 AM

Ya' know I told ya' recently 'bout th' Ivory-Billed Woodpecker sighting down in Arkansas. Well pretty exciting times right here in River City cuz, yesterday, a local loon claims he wuz mightily startled as a big, fat, badger scampered right by him as he walked in ta' his garage. Asked if he might have been mistaken, he said he knows th' difference between a possum and a badger. He said,

"I seen deer before, down 'round Brush Creek. I seen th' occasional fox and I seen many a possum and racoon, but I ain't never seen no badger 'round these 'hyar parts. It warn't no possum, I'm tellin' ya. I know Marlon Perkins, bless his soul, woulda' agreed with me"

Like, have you ever seen any badgers hangin' around yer garage before?

th' cap't

P.S. And NO! I wuzn't drunk neither!! It wuz a fuckin' Badger!


Subject: Joggers/Runners/Walkers; Take Note!!
Date:
Monday, August 15, 2005 12:05 AM

I just read a couple of days ago where th' CDC (Center for Disease Control) recently released th' results of a comprehensive study they did ta' ascertain th' benefits of stretchin' exercises peoples do before launchin' themselves out on ta' th' streets, and hiways and byways, parkways, pathways, sidewalks, etc, etc where they practice their craft.

Ya' might recall me mentionin' a few weeks ago when I spotted several of these critters over at Loose Park, pushin' on poles and trees and grabbing their legs, and doin' all manner of gyrations and silly poses, designed, they think, ta' minimize injuries they might suffer, should they refrain, and simply take off runnin'. "Look Ma, no stretchin'"

What th' CDC says is,

STOP IT! KNOCK IT OFF. YER WASTIN' YER TIME!!

Yeah, it seems their study revealed no difference whutsoever in injuries between those who religiously stretched first, and those who didn't bother and simply took off. None. As in Nada!
So, if yer one of these peoples who do this before ya' go bounding away down th' trail..... fuggedaboudit. Eliminate that nonsense and knock five minutes off yer routine. Use that extra five minutes ta' smell th' roses or somthin' worthwhile!

th' cap't

P.S. Th' CDC says there's no harm in this ritual; jus' that's it's not gonna' accomplish anything beneficial nor reduce injuries, BUT, If yer hardcore 'bout it, well, sheeit, go ahead! After all, it's yer time and, goddam it, ya' can do whutever th' hell ya' want with it. Right?
Ya' don't need no steeenking Gov'mint Agency tellin' ya' whut ta' do, eh!!


Subject: A couple of brief questions?
Date:
Saturday, August 13, 2005 4:42 PM

Is a “fiddle” somthin' played in a roadhouse? And a “violin" somthin' played in a concert hall? In other words; are they th' same animal? Or, are they different in some fashion.?

Have ya' ever in yer life known someone from Delaware? Does such a place really exist? Or is it just a fabrication, like that moon landing?

Are ya' aware of a Philharmonic Symphony any where, that has some one from Delaware in th' "Fiddle Section"?

th' cap't

P.S. And peoples ask me why I can't get ta' sleep at night!


Subject: More Marble Lore from Days of Yore
Date:
Wednesday, August 10, 2005 5:29 PM

One of th' darkest days of my childhood wuz one time in Dayton, Ohio, 1952, in th' fifth grade, my 'shooter', which is yer favorite marble, completely distinctive from all other marbles, th' marble ya' rely on, a marble with almost magical powers, th' one marble ya' own that ya' would never sell or trade, th' marble which is th' very embodiment of YOU.....broke in half,

CRACK!!!

There it wuz; lying there, split in two pieces. I could only stare at it in abject Horror. I wuz stunned. I wuz devastated and dumbstruck. My life wuz over it seemed. It's not like ya' can go ta' th' marble store and say,

"Hey yo, I broke my 'shooter', Whadda'ya got in th' way of exceptional, one-of-a-kind marbles, somthin' capable of wipin' out all th' competition?"

It don't work that way. It's like th' Indian, who goes on a quest ta' find his special 'animal spirit' or his "secret place." Ya' don't jus' order another one.

In utter desperation, knowin' full well it wuz futile, I tried gluin' it back together, and put it in th' freezer overnight, ta' help make it stick together better. I couldn't sleep that night, dreadin' whut I knew ta' be inevitable. Th' next day, ta' no one's surprise, with th' first contact shot, it flew apart once again. It wuz done for! Kaput! Fini.. All gone. Nothin' left but th' cryin', and I did plenty of that. It wuz more than jus' a marble, see, it wuz personal, like losin' yer best friend.

See, yer 'shooter' as th' moniker implies, is like yer personal bowling ball, like yer personal personal tennis racket, like yer personal golf clubs, more closely maybe, like yer own baseball glove, or pool cue. it's a personal thing, see? It wuz an unimaginable catastrophe cuz it wuz irreplaceable.

I wuz then faced with th' daunting, seemingly impossible task of findin' a replacement....but hey, how.....pray tell.... does one replace th' Irreplaceable?

I wuz despondent. My game wuz waay off. Ya' see, yer “shooter” is critical ta' yer game. It's whut gives ya' yer confidence, in some strange, inexplicable way. Ya' simply can't get th' “action,” th' accuracy, th' 'feel' with an ordinary marble like ya' get with yer own shooter.

But fortunately, my misfortune wuz short-lived, cuz jus' a couple of weeks later, I won in a pot an unbelievably beautiful marble, that wuz even more striking than th' one I had broken. I spotted it immediately. as soon as I saw it hit th' ground. I couldn't believe that chump had dumped it in th' ring and put it up fer grabs. I took it out of th' ring with my first shot and snatched it up. No way wuz I gonna'' let some one else get it. Man, I couldn't believe my good fortune.

Everyone who ever saw it wuz struck by its uniqueness. Over th' next couple of years I won many a marble usin' it.

A couple of years later, at th' end of th' seventh grade, it wuz one of a handful of marbles that I didn't give to th' Okinawan kid who I had bequeathed my entire collection to; two Army foot lockers full, cuz my dad wouldn't pay th' freight ta ship 'em back to th' States.

In a strange twist of fate, many of our household goods were lost en-route from Okinawa ta California, includin' one crate that had my shooter in it. I couldn't believe it. I might as well have given it ta' th' Okinawan kid with the rest of 'em.

Sheeit. Th' Army authorities had no idea whut had happened ta' them. They had simply vanished from th' face of th' earth it seems.

Then one day, when I wuz a Junior in HS, we were informed that our long lost goods had been found sittin' in a box car on a siding in Las Vegas! Ha ha. No one could explain how long, or why, they wound up ther?

When they were finally delivered ta' us three and a half years late, my shooter wuz there in one of th' crates, but by then I had stopped shootin' marbles years earlier. I mean, I wuz a Junior, I had my own wheels, I wuz a member in good standin' in th' Condors of San Berdoo, gettin' into 'rumbles', gettin' drunk, raisin' hell, shootin' pool now, so I wuzn't playin' no marbles no more. I had gone past it. I didn't need it any more.

It wuz a thing from my childhood, like ya' might remember an old toy; with affection still, but not somthin' ya'd take seriously any more. And so, I set it aside, with other childish things.

And then, somewhere, over th' years, in my numerous travels, I lost it for th' last and final time.

Damn!! I wish I had it today! I don't know exactly why, but I just' wish I did. I miss it.

th' cap't


Subject: A Tale of Loss and Woe
Date:
Wednesday, August 10, 2005 4:57 AM

Have you ever lost your marbles? If so, I can sympathize with you. I know the feeling, believe me! But I didn't exactly lose my marbles in the truest sense of the word. Worse, I was forced to give up my marbles.

As they say on the News these days; "It went down like this."

I started playing marbles when I was about 5 or 6. I picked it up very quickly. I was a natural. My real marble career began when I was in the third grade. I stopped playing "funsies" then and started playing "keepsies". This simply meant that when you won marbles in a game, you didn't give them back, as in "funsies". No, what you did in the "keepsies" style of play was; you put them in your pocket because now they were yours to keep! Ergo, "keepsies".

There weren't many other third graders at school who would play "keepsies" and those that did, soon stop playing with me, because I was taking, what used to be THEIR marbles home with ME every day in my pockets. This did not make me a popular person.

Lots of guys were not very good sports about giving up their marbles. Many scuffles ensued. Some went whining to Sister saying I had stolen their marbles. Sister then whacked my knuckles for my efforts sending notes home of my miscreant behavior. But, who cared. I was winning.

So, I always had to play older kids in order to get a game, because none of the kids in my grade would play me any more. I played in Florida, Texas, Ohio and Alabama. Every day, I went home with my shirt and pants pockets full of other kids marbles.

By the time I got to the sixth grade, I was a marble shooting fool. I was really pretty damned good, but In the middle of the school year my Dad, who was in the Air Force, was transferred again, this time to Okinawa and so I had to give away the marbles I had won up til then.

But when I got to Okinawa, everybody there played marbles. This was the early '50s and there wasn't a helluva lot for kids to do there, so marbles was Big. That's when my career took off and really went into high gear. This was the middle of the sixth grade. I was playing high school guys by then. I really didn't care how old my opponents were cus I was going to take their marbles anyway, age be damned.

And I did. On a daily basis! And lots of them too!! By the end of the seventh grade, I had won in a year and a half, two army foot lockers filled with marbles.

Marbles of every size and description. I personally had a couple hundred "purees" or "clearies" as they were called, when other kids didn't have a handful. These were just marbles that were of different colors, but were clear, and were rare, and thus highly valued. I used to arrogantly, and casually, drop a dozen into the ring, while others went thru their marbles, carefully selecting those common marbles everyone put in. I did this because I knew I was going to get most of them back. And if I happened to lose a few; no big deal. There were plenty more where those came from. I was steadily accumulating beau coup marbles all the time.

One day, at the end od the seventh grade, my dad came home and said we were being transferred to Norton AFB in San Bernardino, California.

Then came the Shocker!!! I was told that no way were my marbles going with us. My dad wasn't paying freight on a couple hundred pounds of marbles! Man, was I pissed!! I ean, really pissed!! I had won every one of those godammed things, and they were Mine, and now, Nevermore!

So, I had to give them all away. Once again! But this time there were a couple thousand. Oh, Ten Thousand Curses!! Sheeit, I don't know how many there were? Like, how many marbles does it take to fill two army foot lockers? A whole fucking bunch, I can tell you.

I finally wound up giving them all to this Okinawan kid whose dad was our gardener. He came to my house one day, shortly before we left, with ten or twelve of his friends, and with five or six to a foot locker, they carted away my treasures. Never to be seen again.

I would like to tell you, that I at least felt good about giving them to a poor Okinawa kid, and how that helped make the loss a bit easier, but that would be a damned lie!! It didn't help one bit. I pouted and sulked for weeks.

So...like, if you've ever lost your marbles before,

HEY!! I DON'T WANTA' HEAR ABOUT IT!!

th' cap't

P.S. When I got to San Berdoo, no one there played marbles. So I took up pool. And started a whole new career.


Subject: A memorable occasion worthy of note.
Date:
Aug. 9, 1945, Happy Anniversary

Today as I'm sure yer aware, our Japanese friends, (formerly known as Japs) are celebrating 60 years of Atomic Bomb-Free Days. This is always cause fer celebration as you can imagine.

th cap't

P.S. As a gesture of friendship and goodwill, President Bush offered th' use of a renovated B-29 ta' overfly th' city of Nagasaki ta' commemorate “the Event,” but th' Nips, er, scuse me, th' Japanese Ambassador tersely declined th' offer.

Th' President also wanted ta' put up a huge banner behind th' speakers at a large rally being planned that said,

"MISSION ACCOMPLISHED"

but once again, th' Japanese Ambassador declined, none too tactfully.

Altho they are our friends and allies, one can't help but wonder if these peoples don't have some kinda'

"Attitude Problem", ya' know whut I mean. Jeeeze, Touchy!

Finally, in an effort ta' save some Face, President Bush assured th' ambassador, that if th' Japanese continued ta' refrain from attacking our Naval Air Bases, we, likewise, would continue ta' refrain from dropping any more Atomic Bombs on 'em. and so, in a Spirit of Conciliation, they agreed ta' let bygones be bygones.


Subject: Eureka! Birders; take heart
Date:
Monday, August 8, 2005 5:11 PM

As yer well aware I'm sure, an Ivory-Billed Woodpecker wuz reportedly seen in Arkansas several weeks ago. This sighting caused quite a stir in th' birding community. This bird wuz widely held to be extinct. Th' last credible sighting wuz back in th' 40's, then....along came Jones.

While most birders were thrilled ta' death, as usual th' naysayers popped outta' their nests ta' dispute th' veracity of th' sighting. Three well known and respected ornithologists were submitting papers doubting th' authenticity of th' sighting.

While they weren't claiming a hoax, they said there simply wasn't enuff evidence ta' back up th' claim. Plus 60 years of no-show on th' birds part made 'em mighty sceptical.

Altho there wuz a second and a half of video of th' bird in flight, they determined th' blurry footage ta' be inconclusive.

But, oh wait. It seems there wuz some audio too. And this audio of th' bird's song convinced even th' strongest critics that it wuz indeed th' th' fabled IBW, so there wuz much rejoicin' and merriment in th' Avian community. On a quite evening, ya' can still hear th' drums beating off in th' far distance in th' forest. Some claim ta' have actually witnessed th' rituals and offerings placed at th' foot of th' large figure of th' Ivory Billed Woodpecker, while young maidens danced seductively about.

Strange and unusual tho they may be, amateur bird watchers take their Craft seriously, and an event of this magnitude will long be remembered in song and dance. This entire event is much th' equivalent of our Catholic friends seein' th' Virgin Mary on th' face of tortillas.

th cap't

P.S. Altho it's been fifty some years since I have been out in th' field myself, I gotta admit; when I heard th' first tentative reports, my heart quickened and I felt th' urge ta' grab my binoculars and ta' go off afield, cuz once ya've experienced th' Thrill of a Rare sighting, it never lets go.


Subject: Street art
Date:
Monday, August 8, 2005 11:51 AM

My friend chrissie sent this to me, check this out.It's pretty cool.Look at that coke bottle. it's relly amazin'.

http://www.rense.com/general67/street.htm

th' capt


Subject: A memorable occasion worthy of note.
Date:
Monday, August 8, 2005 4:07 AM

I cleaned my kitchen today!!!

"Well, big fucking deal! I cleaned my kitchen today too. So what?" you say.

Well, ya' see, here's th' thing; I don't clean my kitchen every day. I am a very busy person with many very important business meetings, conferences and consultations, and I jus' don't have time fer such foolishness on a daily basis.

Now, I'm not goin' ta' be specific about when th' last time I cleaned it; cuz some horrors are better left undiscovered, ya'know whut I mean.....like.....that basement in th' movies where ya' wanta' shout,

"Are ya' crazy? Don't go down there ya' dumb fuck!! Yer askin' fer trouble."

But they go ahead and open that door anyway, and slowly proceed down those steps into a nightmare.

So let's jus' say, 'it wuz a while ago' and let well enuff alone, OK!?

But, I gotta' tell ya', I feel so good now. I feel like I've been exorcised and my demons purged. I have such a sense of satisfaction and accomplishment, which I didn't have yesterday. One might even say I feel, dare I say it? Proud of myself. (sometimes, one must take th' accolades, even though self proclaimed, when one can, even fer those events that others take fer granted)

I think this calls for a celebration, so, wherever you are at ten o'clock this evening, perhaps ya' would like ta' join me in a toast.

"Here's ta' th' captain's kitchen, may it always remain thus clean!! hear! hear!"

chug-a-lug, chug-a-lug. Now that I have this momentum goin', on th' morrow, I plan ta' proceed with th' living room and th' bathroom and even tho I hear derisive laughter and snickerin', I am not deterred cuz I am up fer th' challenge!!

I CAN DO EEET!

th' cap't


Subject: Intriguing questions. Why are we here? What is the meaning of it all?
Date:
Sunday, August 7, 2005 8:33 PM

OK, granted, those are good questions, but...I have a question of my own of equal importance. I have been searchin' fer this answer fer a long time now. This question first came up when I used ta' live in Atlanta, GA. It was 1960, and I was 18 then.

I had just arrived in town earlier in th' evening and promptly proceeded ta' get drunk. Sometime early in th' mornin' I sloshed my way into an all night diner and ordered me up some ham and eggs.

When th' waitress brung my plate, there wuz some white stuff (if yer a weather forecaster yer prolly wonderin' why there wuz snow on my plate, eh?) next ta' my eggs. I took a small tentative bite, thinkin' it might be rice. It wuzn't! So I asked th' waitress in a drunken, sloppy manner,

"Scuse me mam', but whut is this white stuff?"

and th' waitress guffawed and said in a loud voice fer all ta' hear,

"Hey ya'll, this young man wants ta' know whut thet 'white stuff' is on his plate! yuck yuck"

and all of th' other waitresses and bib-overalled peoples sittin' next ta' me at th' counter had a good chuckle over that. They found that pretty amusin'. After th' laughter trailed off, she said in her best southern drawl,

"Whaah honeeey, those are Gree-iiiiits!"

(makin' two words out of grits) and I gave her a blank, uncomprehendin' look and said,

"Hey yeah, thas' cool...but still....whut th' hell are grits?"

and this got them all goin' again. I didn't really mind. It wuz cool y'know, cuz, like, it wuz jus' my first night in Atlanta and already I wuz able ta' provide some really good entertainment fer th' natives.

I don't think anyone ever did explain ta' me though, jus' exactly whut “GRITS” were, but hell, I don't think they really knew themselves. Grits were jus' somethin' they took fer granted and didn't really require any explainin'. They jus', in a Zen kinda' sense...WERE! After all, they had been eatin' grits with breakfast, lunch and supper their entire lives and it didn't really need any delvin' into, ya' know whut' I mean!! I'm sure they were all thinkin',

"Whut th' hail kinda dumb question is that anyway? 'what are grits?' sheeeit! Where is this yahoo from?"

No doubt they immediately 'made' me fer a dumb Yankee!! I guess it would be like askin' someone from Indiana ta' explain whut a "hoosier" is. They would prolly say somethin' like,

"If ya' gotta ask, I couldn't explain it".

So...after spendin' a year and a half travellin' all over Georgia and N. Florida on a road crew, goin' from one small town ta' th' next, sellin' encyclopedias door ta' door, tryin' ta' bring some educational aids into th' abodes of poor “trailer trash crackers,” alla' time eatin' in small town restaurants, and diners and roadhouses, and so on, and so forth. and now, some 45 years later, havin' since discovered th' Meaning of Life and th' Purpose of our Existence, MY question is,

"So,..WHUT TH' FUCK ARE GRITS ANYWAY????"

th' cap't

P.S. I'm sure there are plenty of ya'll who, besides my dabblings in Theoretical Physics, Philosophy, Chaos Theory, etc, etc, are also familiar with my distinguished work in th' Culinary Field these past many years, who are puzzled by my ignorance here, huh? Go figure.


Subject: A bicyclist has a beef
Date:
Saturday, August 6, 2005 4:37 AM

I read a letter ta' th' editor in th' Star in th' last few week. Check this out. This bicycle dude wuz bitchin' and whinin' cuz th' bus didn't have no rack ta' put his bike on. Well, fuckin' boo hoo hoo! Let's all shed some crocodile tears fer th' poor thing!

Sheeit. If he wants ta' ride his bike, then ride his fuckin' bike! Why in th' hell would he expect th' bus ta' have a rack fer his godam bike? C'mon, puleeeze! But whut th' hell; thas' typical of th' mentality of “the bike rider.” He no doubt expects th' other 25 passengers on th' bus ta' wait while they take th' time ta' secure his bike, cuz he's "special" ya' see, and he expects, nay, he demands special treatment!

And ya' know whut else th' bus doesn't provide fer weary bike riders? No tea and crumpets either!! Ain't it jus' a fuckin' shame th' indignities and injustices th' poor bicyclists must endure from th' four, and more, wheeled motorists!!

Sometimes peoples ask me when I'm gonna' stop whinin' and moanin' bout Kansans, and gurls who expect th' toilet seat ta' be lowered fer 'em, and bicyclists, and joggers and recreational walkers and so on and so forth. Well I'll tell ya; I'll stop when I don't have ta' listen ta' their stupidities any more!! And that would be approximately bout' th' same time as Hell freezes over!! ('scuuuse th' cliche)

th' cap't

P.S. And whut, pray tell, is with these walkers who move their arms back and forth like pistons or somthin? Whut is that all about? Are they still playin' choo-choo or somthin'? I don't care how good lookin' they are; it still looks pretty fuckin' goofy ta' me.


Subject: "Ride to live; Live to ride!"
Date:
Wednesday, August 3, 2005 7:57 PM

I saw th' funniest thing a little earlier today. I wuz drivin' down Brookside and approachin' me wuz a motorcycle bein' driven by this rather plump gurl. There wuz a guy passenger on th' back. They were both attired in black helmets and both wore th' obligatory black leather motorcycle-type jackets. y'know, with th' zippers and all. A l a Marlon Brando in The Wild One.

He wuz leanin' way over her shoulder so he could see and he had a kinda grim look on his face, like, he didn't seem very comfortable with th' situation in general.

She, on th' other hand, had a shit-eatin' grin that stretched from one ear ta' th' other. But th' goofy thing wuz; both of these critters were, I would say conservatively, some where between 75 and 80 years old!!

Ha ha. No shit. On their Harley. Jus' gettin' in to th' wind!! It bought a chuckle ta' my cynical ass, I tell ya'!!

YOU GO, MAMA!!

the cap't

P.S. Seein' them reminded me of a few years ago, I wuz drivin' my can thru a Johnson County neighborhood and I noticed this elderly lady. She wuz walkin' her poodle with th' typical poodle look and she wuz wearin' a pair of white slacks with some white high heeled sandals. She had her blue hair pulled back in a bun and she wuz sportin' a pair of those rhine-stone glasses with th' chain`. But here's th' kicker; she wuz wearin' a blue denim jacket that had th' Harley logo and said Harley-Davidson at th' bottom and this wuz all done in red, white and blue sequins!! Try and get a mental picture of this; but ya really had ta' see it ta' appreciate it. Ha ha and Ha ha again. So.... if ya' ever wondered whut happened ta' all th' biker mamas of old, don't fret, cuz they're alive and well in th' 'burbs!!


Subject: Another inspiring tale of Valor from th' cap't. Some say he's a Hero!
Date:
Monday, August 1, 2005 5:14 PM

But first, a consumer tip. Hey ya'll, durin' th' last couple of weeks I've had a very painful sore on th' inside of my tongue, makin' it impossible ta' chew anything, thus I've been doin' a lotta' soup and eatin' lotsa' soft stuff. So Saturday I wuz at th' grocery store and I spotted some Stouffers Corn Sufflé,. I've seen this product fer years, but had never tried any before. Under th' circumstances, this seemed like an opportune time ta' get adventurous. How tuff could a corn sufflé be?

Well, suffice it ta' say that not only wuz it very soft and edible, it wuz also delicious too! Throw some butter pads and different seasonings on it prior ta' th' micro-wave. Oooh yummy!

But now; down ta' th' gritty part. This is where we separate th' wheat from th' chaff!! See, this sore has also made drinkin' a very un-pleasant activity too, however, honoring my long term commitment ta' my booze habit, I wuz forced ta' jus' ignore th' pain. Professional athletes are not th' only ones "Playin' thru th' Pain!" altho they seem ta' be th' only ones who get credit fer it! There are many others out there, such as myself, as I noted humbly, who go un-sung!

When peoples who know me and know whut I'm goin' thru with every swig I take, ax me in awe,

"Jeeze, how do ya' do it cap't?"

I jus' shrug my shoulders and tell 'em in a nonchalant, ho-hum manner,

"Aw, no big deal! It's jus' a flesh wound."

And they give me that admiring, "Gee Whiz", look again!

And they say superheroes only exist in th' Comics!! Sheeit!

th' cap't


Subject: OK, OK. MEA CULPA, MEA CULPEA, MEA MAXIMA CULPA
Date:
Monday, August 1, 2005 1:21 PM

My buddy Tommy D. pointed out ta' me a small mistake I made in my calculations on th' Atomic Bomb day thing. It seems like I wuz mebbe off by about ten years. In my defense, all I can say is; that my calculator wuz “down” and I didn't have pen and paper ta' check my figures manually.

Oh, this is sooo embarrassing! I am jus' Mortified!

th' contrite cap't

P.S. It is further Ironic cuz I jus wrote of my 6th grade teacher Mrs. Stubbs who made a note at one time on my report card that I wuz "retarded" in math. After this faux pas it's not any consolation now, that at th' end of th' year, she revised her assessment and declared that I wuz definitely NOT retarded in math. Mebbe first impressions are right after all?


Subject: 50 Year Anniversary approachin'
Date:
Monday, August 1, 2005 12:38 PM

Well boyz and gurlz, we are approachin' that time of th' year again when we wish our Japanese (formerly known as Japs*) friends and allies a Happy Atomic Bomb Day, especially those from Hiroshima (Aug, 6th, 45') and Nagasaki (Aug. 9th, 45') fer whom th' day is specially memorable This is kinda' a special year tho, cus it is th' 50th anniversary of that special event.

Now there are those that, in hindsight, from th' safety of 50 years of softenin' of th' Barbarity and and Fatalistic Determination of th' Japanese, question th' Morality and need of that decision by President Truman. It's interestin' ta' note tho, that none of these questioners were on a troop ship headin' fer Japan fer th' Final Invasion of th' Home Islands. After th' fanatical defense of Okinawa, everyone soon ta' be involved knew this wuz goin' ta' be a bloodbath, and a lotta' that blood wuz gonna' be theirs! . I doubt whether a single, solitary American soldier of that time, faced with that prospect said,

"Hey, c'mon, no fair. Thas' not right."

Th' collective sighs of Relief and Joy of American GI's whose task it wuz gonna' be ta' root out and kill th' Japs, one by one, were loud and prolonged. It meant they were goin' ta' survive th' war.... and go on with their lives..... and have families..... and grow old......watchin' their Sony TV's..... with a new Honda sittin' in th' driveway.

And it's also a Fact, and ya' can check this out if ya' don't believe me, that th' Japanese have never launched a single surprise attack on an American naval base since. Not one!!! So, I think ya' could safely say it left a lasting impression on them! If ya' must, think of th' bombings as a workin' example of

"Tuff Love."

th' cap't

* I wonder today why th' shortened version of "Japs" is considered offensive now? We refer ta' th' British as th' "Brits" and th' Pakastanis as th' "Pakis" and th' Jewish as th' "Jews" without thought


Subject: A strange bumper sticker
Date:
Sunday, July 31, 2005 10:58 PM

Hey, yo, I wuz drivin' earlier today and I wuz behind this station wagon of some kind and th' whole rear window was laced with posters saying things like

"Jesus loves you!"

and. "The Lord Tules"

and, "God bless America"

and stuff like that. Ya' know th' tripe. But whut rilly got my attention wuz th' bumper sticker!! Ya' remember all th' stickers and sayings ya've heard like,

"FRIENDS don't let drunk friends DRIVE". A notable sentiment, right? But hey, check this out...this sticker said,

"FRIENDS DON'T LET FRIENDS GO TO HELL!"

Well, no shit! Of course not! I mean, that's obvious, isn't it? And ya' know whut else? This buffoon wuz from, where else? Thas' right! A Kansan! Ha ha. Well, that makes sense don't it!

So th' next time yur with some friends who are engagin' in sinful kinds of behavior, REMEMBER THAT ADVICE! and ACT! Takin' their keys away is goin' ta' be a meaningless gesture in a case like this. No, no, this calls for stronger measures.

Whut I do in a situation like that is; I always carry around a small Visine container, except I have filled mine with lighter fluid, so when one of my friends look like they might be gettin' readt ta' 'sin', I squirt some fluid on their ear and light it. Well of course they jump up screamin' with their ear on fire and sinful behavior is th' last thing on their minds at that moment. Y'know whut I mean! And I usually say somethin' like,

"Beware sinner, for this is nothin' compared ta' th' pain of everlastin' Hell which you are flirting with right this minute mister/missy. (whutever th' case may be) We're talkin' here unendurable, excruciatin', Agony fer all Eternity. Time without end. Forever and ever. With no time off fer good behavior! Ya' unnerstan!! Ya' don't want that, do ya?"

Now, a lotta' peoples, after we put their ear out, will say somethin' like,

"Gee, thanks cap't. I needed that!! Man, that wuz close! How can I ever repay you?"

On th' other hand there will inevitably be those other ungrateful bastards who will break your nose and kick some of yer teeth out while thouroughly ruinin' yer ribs. These assholes will always misinterpret yer efforts ta' save their immortal souls. After I get up and spit my teeth out, I usually jus' say to 'em, in a now very nasally voice,

"Awright then, have it yer way! Juth' Go ta' Hell!! ya' fuckin' Sthinner, You!"

th' cap't


Subject: T-shirt and rap
Date:
Sunday, July 31, 2005 6:56 PM

I saw a cool T-shirt last night that said,

"Just fuckin' relax"

I liked that.

I also saw at Mike's tavern a rap group from Seattle called Nocturnal Rage, comprised of nine peoples, includin' two white guyz, makin' th' stage a bit crowded. Ha ha.

Mind you, I don't care for rap very much at all, but these guys were fuckin' incredible. I had a couple friends, who also don't like rap music, buy one of their CDs and they've NEVER bought a CD from any other band there before. Their name again is NOCTURNAL RAGE and if ya' ever get a chance ta' see 'em; do so. Ya'll be glad ya' did!

I wuz rappin' with one of th' rappers durin' a break, and he told me they had just driven in straight thru from Miami, and as soon as they finished their gig at Mike's, they were loadin' up th' vans and drivin' ta' Colorado fer a gig tonight. He told me they had played 32 gigs in 32 different cities in th' last six weeks! Man, these guyz 'are on th' Move', eh!

th' cap't


Subject: Eerie!
Date:
Friday, July 29, 2005 11:28 AM

Last nite I wuz sittin' there at the bar, and the barmaid, during a lull in the music, axed me...she said,

"Cap'm, did ya' see the movie The Sixth Sense?

and I said, "Yeah."

and she crooked her finger towards me, and leaned over th' bar and I leaned over th' bar, and she whispered in my ear,

"I SEE DRUNKS!"

she said, in this soft whispery voice,

"and they're EVERYWHERE!........... and they don't even know they're DRUNK!!"

Pretty fuckin' bizarre, eh?

th' cap't


Subject: Ah, the Innocence of Youth (or th' Stupidity, whutever)
Date:
Thursday, July 28, 2005 5:44 PM

Last night this young dude wuz tellin' me about his first time out at th' riverboat last Friday nite. He 'splained that he had never really been much of a gambler, but a couple of his buddies, visitin' from out of town, wanted ta' go.....so whut th' hell!

He tells me he started shootin' “craps.” He said he rilly liked th' game. It wuz all about numbers. He liked that. It wuz about math. He liked that. He's very good with numbers and math in his bank job and with his degree in economics, ya' see.

He told me it took him a little while ta' figure th' game out...but once he did...he started ta' win. He gleefully told me how he had parlayed 80 bucks into 160 in only 2 1/2 hours. (WOW, huh? is this guy a high roller, or whut!) He wanted ta' stay and keep on winnin' but his buddies, who didn't really know how to play th' game, (some rubes from Kansas no doubt) and had no system whut so ever, were losin' and wanted ta' go elsewhere.

So, he told me he wuz goin' back by himself this comin' Monday nite ta' win some more money. I told him in light of th' results of his first foray, he oughta' consider quittin' his day job and becomin' a professional gambler. He gave me a funny look cuz he wasn't sure whether I wuz kiddin' him or not, (I get that a lot) and he said,

"Well, cap'm, I'm not sure if I'm quite ready for that."

and I said,

"Well, Phil, mebbe not right now, but in a couple of weeks, when ya've had a chance ta' work on and perfect yer System, ya' might think differently."

He gave me that questioning' look again and said,

"Well, I gotta go Cap'm. Wish me luck on Monday nite."

and I replied,

"Hey Phil, catch ya' later, and good luck on Monday nite."

That kid is so blessed ta' have figured out how ta' win at craps at such a young age, huh! After only one time he's figured it out. Now, all he's gotta do when he needs some extra cash is ta go ta th' casino, and, voila!

See, a lotta' peoples don't realise how easy it is ta' win money there; if you have an effective Gambling System. See, these casinos are basically there, so that large corporations have a means ta' distribute their excess monies ta' needy persons, such as you and me. Th' main thing ya' gotta keep in mind is simply,

"If ya' don't play...ya' can't win!!"

OK?! or... another better way ta look at it is,

"The MORE ya' play...th' MORE ya' WIN!!"

It's that easy! So....if ya' should find yerself a bit short of cash......jus' head ta' th' nearest casino and they will be glad fer th' opportunity ta' give ya' as much of theirs as ya' need. Thas' whut they're there for!!

th' cap't

P.S. I'm goin' to give ya'll an extremely valuable gaming tip here, but don't tell everyone ya' know about it, OK? This is it,

USE ASTROLOGY!!!

and ya' can't go wrong!! TH' STARS DON'T LIE!!

Oh yeah, one other thing. In terms of yer mental attitude; don't ever think of it as GAMBLING again. Think…GAMING. See, 'gamble' implies RISK, whereas “game” implies 'FUN".

Y'know, I'm thinkin.....th' very worst thing that could happen ta' Phil would be fer him ta' actually WIN Monday nite!! Ha ha. Cuz he might jus' decide ta' quit that day job after all. Ha ha


Subject: Th' hard way.
Date:
Thursday, July 28, 2005 4:46 PM

I read in th' paper today where a guy wuz arrested at a Wal-Mart in Harrisonville for threatenin' employees with a knife after he wuz spotted stealin' some things. He wuz charged with,

exhibiting a deadly weapon
resisting arrest
stealing without consent
and trespassing

I'm thinkin' he can prolly beat th' trespassing beef since some Wal-Mart "greeter" prolly welcomed him as he entered th' store, so he wuz hardly trespassing, eh!.

Now, this "stealing without consent" coulda' been easily avoided. But th' dumb-ass perp, instead of tellin' them his intentions and getting permission, instead chose to jus' surrepiitiously steal stuff anyway, apparently without askin' anybody. He coulda' avoided that whole un-pleasantness if he had simply asked somebody, like,

"Hey yo, I'm gonna be stealin' a few things here in th' next few minutes, so if some body would jus' consent ta' that, I can jus' get on about my bizness, know whut ahm sayin."

But, noooo.... he didn't do that. I'm afraid he's gonna' go down on that one.

So, remember that, boyz and gurlz; always get permission before ya' steal stuff. It could save ya' a lotta' trouble.

th' cap'm



              
              
                 

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