Another Mystery Solved; Th Cap'm Will Sleep Better Tonite
July 2, 2007 1:33 AM
OK ya'll, after delvin into th perplexin actions
of that gurl I told ya about who replaced th first square she took
outta her pack and then put it back in upside down, tobacco end up,
I made some probin inquiries last nite and was told by several of
my contacts on th street that that was considered a "good luck"
cigarette, to be smoked last.
I was quite frankly surprised to hear that, cuz, like, I smoked fer
48 fookin years ya'll, and I never heard that particular bit of blarney
before. Sheeeit! Altho I now know why she did that, I still have no
fuckin idea why any one would go thru such a stupid, meaningless ritual
in th zany belief that it would somehow bring good fortune to em.
Where in th hell do human beings come up with such absolute nonsense?
Yeah, I know; superstitions?! But when peoples tell me they're “superstitious,”
my first thought is,
"Ya mean yer jus incredibly Fuckin Stupid!!"
and I dismiss em forthwith as not bein worth my time to even rap with.
Before ya knew it, they'd be tossin salt over their shoulders, and
engagin in all other manner of weird behaviors. I mean, rilly! Like,
how can ya have a dialog with a creature like that?
P.S. Y'know whut, If I owned a high rise, it would have a 13th floor
on it. And by th way, is there a building anywhere that doesn't? Do
these ignorant peoples think there's jus a big gap between th 12th
and 14th floors fr'chrissake!? haha Oh, but I guess as long as ya
don't call th 13th floor, th 13th floor, these Cosmic Forces who would
take offense at that are just completely fooled.
That is pretty amusin when ya stop and think about it; y'know, that
they can be so easily hoodwinked and propitiated by such hollow, meaningless
gestures. As th landlord, I would ask all prospective tenants if they
had any objections to takin space on th 13th floor, and fer those
who said they did, I would immediately have Security Mace em and drag
their crazy asses outta th building right fuckin pronto-like. Cuz
ya never know, sometimes deranged peoples can suddenly, without warning,
get violent and dangerous on ya!
The Insane Cigarette Pack Whackers Are Still Out There!
June 30, 2007 8:14 PM
Th utter mindless stupidities of these cretins jus
never fails to amaze me. Last nite I was sittin at a high top table
and jus across from me were sittin three gurls in a booth. At some
point one of th gurls pulled out her cigs and started slammin her
pack on th table. She was usin about an eight point thumpin slam followed
by about a 5-6 second pause. Then 8 more successive thumps followed
by th pause. It was pretty loud and was gettin reeely annoyin.
After maybe 70-80 whacks she shifted from th table to th palm of her
hand. She then continued to whack her palm, I would guess, no exaggeration
at all, mebbe 300 more times. I'm not smokin ya one bit. I mean it.
She was listening to her girlfriend and would pause sometimes when
th conversation got reely interesting, I spose, and then would resume.
She did this fer 4-5 fookin minutes! I was beginnin to think she wasn't
ever goin to open her godam pack.
But, when she finally unwound th little plastic wrapper, she took
a cig out and sat it on th table, then she extracted another and put
th first one back in th pack, but upside down now, tobacco side up??
Then, she lit th second one. This literally sent my brain into overload.
Fuses were blowin right and left. I mean, I've never seen any one
do that before and try as I might, I couldn't come up with any rational,
plausible reason why any one in th world would do that? (little did
I know then what would be comin soon)
I jus had to stop thinkin about it all together cuz I was afraid fer
th integrity of my still functionin circuits. Just a few minutes later
tho, her friend sittin right across from her got out her unopened
pack and started whackin her pack. I jus shuddered inwardly and grit
my teeth and braced myself. Fortunately fer me, she only thumped em
60-70 times, without much in th way of pauses so it didn't take very
long, but even so, by th time she finished I was startin to break
out in a cold sweat.
I employed some Zen calmin techniques and was jus about back to normal,
when, GASP, Oh No! th third gurl pulled out a pack! All three of these
gurls are opening their new packs within minutes of each other. ZOUNDS!
Whut th fuck is goin down here ?It was more than I could take. I wanted
to scream out,
"Stop! Stop! Pleeeze no more. I'll talk. I'll tell you anything!
I'll give ya all my secret codes! Pleeeze no more!"
But I didn't. I sucked it up. I decided I wasn't gonna roll over.
Never had before; wasn't gonna start now! But this third gurl reely
pulled off th Mother of All Stupidities. Th Absolute Insanity of what
she did was staggerin. She started packin her smokes, again usin about
an 8 count, but then....but then......she turned th pack upside down
and packed em again. She did this prolly fifteen times. Slammed em
one way, reversed em, and slammed em th opposite. So, if yer not followin
this, each time she slammed em, she negated th effects of th previous
slammin. Accomplishin absolutely nothin! Why? Why? Why I ask you?
Why would you do that? It would be like pourin a glass of water into
a glass, and then pourin it back in th first glass.
After watchin that whole charade fer th past fifteen minutes, th only
possible conclusion I could come to was, once again,
Some how his minions set up this wacky scenario to loosen my grasp
on reality. I suspect it was all part of th ongoin 30-year conspiracy
to "Get The Cap'm". We didn't call him Tricky Dick fer nothin,
ya'know! I know he heard about th numerous "FUCK NIXON"
bashes I threw fer years, and then finally, th bIg one, th
"ADIOS DICK, SEE YA LATER MUTHERFUCKER" party I threw on
th eve of his ignominious departure. He never forgave me fer that
I dunno tho, sometimes it's hard to pick out th players in th Conspiracy
from yer run-of-th mill, ordinary crazy fucknuts! How is one to distinguish
em? I need to hire a consultant who can advise me when certain actions
are part of th Conspiracy, and when they're jus part of Life? Damn,
it can get confusin.
Lest They Forget
June 29, 2007 5:16 PM
OK boyz n gurlz, do any of ya'll remember Don Imus?
Remember him from a few weeks back? Th story of his fall from grace
was on every news show, radio, TV, whatever, fer weeks. On and on
it went with no let up. Th Reverend “Asshole” Al Sharpton
and “Big Daddy” Jesse Jackson waded in with their two
cents. Everybody had an opinion. Should they have canned his ass or
"Th Saga of Don Imus" by Johnny Cash. Now there's a hit
song jus waitin there if we could only persuade Johnny to come back
one more time.
So, like whut ever happened to Imus? He faded away into th mists of
memory jus like yesterday's forgotten headline on th Tongonoxie Daily
He got bumped by Nicole and Paris and ya know he's grateful as hell
to em both!!
P.S. Speakin of bein grateful to Nicole, there's no one more grateful
than th astronaut chik drivin cross country in her Depends to ice
her rival fer th affections of her hunky astronaut boyfriend. Heck,
I can't even remember her name now, who can? But if Nicole hadn't
checked out when she did, th Media was ready to go with that story
balls to th wall. I mean, it had everything. A bizarre love triangle
with sexy astronauts! They were jus gettin up to speed on her, with
th obligatory interviews with her next door neighbors and her high
school teacher, ad nauseum, when th Nicole Smith Circus came to town
and everybody promptly forgot all about her. I'm sure that gurl will
always have a special place in her heart fer Nicole.
The Duke Of Darkness?
June 29, 2007 4:34 PM
Durin th past several days, while wanderin around
th environs in th afternoon, I have by chance encountered three different
friends on three different occasions who I mostly see at night in
some saloon or other. And each one of them said th same thing to me
in a surprised, almost un-believing kind of tone,
"Gee Cap'm, I've never seen you in the daylight before!"
Whut a shocker fer th uninitiated, eh? So then, yesterday, I was havin
a sandwich in this diner and I saw a gurl I knew and she said,
"Gee Charley, in all the years I've known you, this is the first
time I've ever seen you eating."
Wow! Once again, can ya imagine th Wonder of that? And I said,
"Yeah, and in the daytime too no less! Since this is yer first
time and all, tell me somethin, is it everything you thought it would
be, or are ya a wee bit disappointed?"
I suppose peoples think, like, I don't ever leave my crypt til the
sun goes down? Ha ha It's true tho, I am a nite-critter. I do prefer
th dark. I hate brightly lit drinkin joints. I simply wont patronise
em. I much prefer to sit over in a dark corner, in some bit of anonymity,
apart from th vulgar, garish crowds babblin their inanities and banalities
about th room.
Along those same lines, my cribs always have th windows blocked off
so even in th day time one must needs a flashlight to traverse th
joint. When I come home, I am ensconced in my own little womb-like
cocoon and know nothin of th outside world, except fer th occasional
phone call. Like, I don't know until I open my front door each day
whether there's a tornado in my front yard or a foot of snow, or maybe
a river where my street used too be!
And then, when I egress th premises, hey, looky here, so whus wrong
with a nice black silk cape anyway? I think it's rather stylish, tho
perhaps a bit warm of a summer evening. Still, sartorially speakin,
combined with my black felt stetson, I think it gives me a rather
roguish and mystery laden look. Dark secrets swirl about as I slide
If ya should ever see a sinister, shadowy figure scurryin away down
a dark alley with a black cape billowin behind em, pay it no mind.
OK. There's no need to bother th Authorities with trivialities and
vague suspicions. There are plenty of other naer-do-wells for them
to concern themselves with.
And call me old fashioned if ya will, but I miss th old days. Fuck
these high intensity fluorescent lights. There's somthin oddly comfortin
about th character of th light cast from a gas lamp. Even yer shadow
assumes an air of intrigue. They jus whisper softly in yer ear,
"Go! Flee away. Silently off into th nite. Be careful. Do not
send th garbage can clattering. Do not disturb th slumberin hounds.
Make good yer escape."
And as ya leap fences and bound away, th thought strikes ya,
"Why pray tell, do I fleeth, for I have committed no offense!"
But no matter, ya do it cuz it's in yer nature. Ya might jus as well
ask th scorpion why he lashes out with his deadly tail, even tho you
meant him no harm.
And then ya remember,
"Yea, verily, th guilty fleeth, tho no man pusueth."
Yes, but guilty of what? Once again; no matter! Cuz Paranoia keeps
ya alive, gives ya th edge to survive. So, Flee away leavin only yer
June 28, 2007 9:50 PM
I saw a rather amusin bumper sticker earlier that
"Where are we going? And why are we all in a handbasket?"
Imagine a furreigner, perhaps an illegal alien, jus hopped th fence,
tryin to figure out jus what that idiomatic expression meant?
"Goin to hell in a handbasket? Wha chu talkin bout Señor?
Mira ese! I'm lookeeng fer th bean field, eh?"
I was curious about it myself so I looked it up in my Dictionary of
Cliches and, sheeit, like, I need some one to translate their definition
fer me. It seemed like not much more than a mess of gobbledegook to
me. Whasa good of a dictionary if ya can't understand th fookin thing?
Thinkin of handbaskets got me rememberin a slight variation on this
theme; a couple years ago some young dude said to me,
"This country is fast goin to Hell in a handbarrel!"
I hadda chuckle a bit on his version. I said,
"No kiddin man. None of that handbasket jive fer me. Gimme a
handbarrel every time!"
And we high-fived on that!
Whut bout you boyz and gurlz? Handbasket vs handbarrel? Take yer pick.
Don't reely matter much tho does it which way ya go, cuz in th end,
we're still in th Shit!
A Simple Solution To A Complex Problem
June 24, 2007 5:13 PM
OK, last nite I was rappin with this young girl
I know. She's on her mid-20s and she was goin on and on about th up
and down relationship with her and her boyfriend. It's like a new
rollercoaster. It not only goes up and down, but completely upside
down and then corkscrews around before comin to rest every now and
then. She droned on fer some time about it.
OK, now, lemme be brutally candid here if I might, aw'right; myself
I'm not too much interested in th personal dynamics of other peoples
relationships, be it with their boyfriends, gurlfriends, whatever,
so, I was givin her about a quarter of my mind. Another quarter was
on a baseball game that I couldn't fuckin care less about, and th
remainin half was jus chillin, hangin out, groovin with my buzz, ya
know whut I mean.
I mostly kept thinkin to myself,
"Dont'chu have a girlfriend ya'd rather share this stuff with,
or mebbe Dr. Phil could give ya some good advice, cuz frankly, my
dear, I don't give a fuck."
But, I didn't voice those thoughts. I jus made some kinda conciliatory
noises every now and then, y'know. so she'd know I was listenin and
She went on to say things were so bad between em, that neither one
of em wanted to get married; they didn't know whether they even wanted
to stay together.
So I said,
indicatin that I had been actually thinkin about it all. I followed
that up with a probin question.
"So, like, what are ya gonna do?"
And she perked up and said,
"Well Charley, we've decided to adopt a puppy, and......if That
works out Ok, then we'll have kids!"
I guffawed and clapped my hands together and said,
"Well gee, thas it! You got it. Sounds like you guyz got a winnin
formula. I wonder why other couples never thought of that?"
I told her it sounded like their train was on th right track to Happy
Town and I slowly disengaged myself as unobtrusively as I could.
But sheeit, mebbe this is th answer to th risin divorce rate. Mebbe
pre-marriage counselors oughta tell this to all young couples they
"ADOPT A PUPPY FIRST!
See what happens, then if everything's cool, have some kids; check
it out fer a few years, if everythings still cool, THEN get married!"
Ya know, it's fer scintillatin conversations jus like this one, that
lures me into th tavern every evening.
P.S. Ya know whut? This slogan could also be used in th propaganda
war on drugs too. Nancy coulda vastly improved on her simple little
JUST SAY NO! GET A PUPPY INSTEAD!
Jus think if she only had; today's teens wouldn't be out doin X and
smokin th Devil's Herb and stuff like thet, instead they'd all be
home playin with their doggies.
June 23, 2007 4:01 PM
Ya ever been drivin along, mindin yer own business
and have a fookin bird fly thru yer open window and crash into th
side of yer head? Ok, so it hasn't happened to you, but do ya know
any one it has happened to? Like, did anyone ever tell ya,
"Dude, I was drivin along, mindin my own business, when this
fookin bird flew right thru my open window and crashed WHAM right
into th side of my head?"
Prolly not huh. But why? Considerin all th birds flyin around at any
given minute and all th peoples drivin around with open windows, ya
would think this would be a daily occurrence.Ya would think KCTV 5
LIVE-LATE BREAKING-INVESTIGATIVE would be featurin exclusive interviews
with vics on th 6 o'clock news, between th murders, rapes, car jackings,
fires, po-lice chases, and other assorted mayhem that passes fer th
news these days. Ya would think parents, seein their chirrun, gettin
in their cars, headin off to college fer th first time would be warnin
"Now sweetie, you remember to roll yer windows up when yer drivin
around so no birds be flyin thru yer windows hittin you up th side
of yer head."
And th kids, jus as soon as they turn th corner would be rollin their
windows down in a gesture of independence and defiance. Like,
"Whoooeee, I'm an adult now, I can do anything I fuckin please!
I'm gonna live on th edge and drive around with my windows open!"
But of course that scenario isn't happenin cus parents don't have
conversations with th kids about that particular pratfall do they,
cuz it doesn't happen! Does it?
P.S. Speakin of things that don't happen: ya ever know anybody from
New Hampshire named Archie? Nah, I din't think so!
STAND BY: WE ARE EXPERIENCING TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES
June 22, 2007 3:38 PM
Fer those of ya who been wonderin, "Wha th fu....?"
Thank you fer bearin with us here at Babble and Bilge HQ. We have
been havin serious problems communicatin with ya'll fer th past week.
(note th use of th Royal "we" and "us" rather
than th singular "me" and "I" that most mortals
employ) We know that cuz of this lapse, some of yer lives may be spinnin
out of control right at this very moment, but hang tuff, cuz as ya
also know, nothin lasts ferever! Well, except fer Eternity of course.
Part of th problem is that I can't type. I flunked typing twice in
high school and got a D in college only thru th good will of my teach,
cuz I don't think she had th heart to flunk someone in typing.
See, everything I write takes a lot of time cus I only type with my
right index finger, while maintainin close focus on th keyboard. I
must look at th keyboard. Even so, I constantly hit th wrong key and
havta go back again. And I only discover these mistakes after I've
clattered out a half dozen words or so. Then I must go back and correct
each one. So, ya see its a long, laborious time consumin process to
send out this dreck even under normal conditions.
I have tried to speed up th process before by usin both index fingers
at th same time. Y'know, double-digit typin. But all that did was
double th mistakes. I don't seem to be able to co-ordinate th two
hands to work together.
Yeah, like, co-ordination has always been a life long problem with
me. Lack thereof was why I was always th last guy to be selected fer
th team, why I couldn't catch, throw or hit a fookin baseball. It
also factored in why I couldn't master th hokey pokey or th bunny
Well sheeit, it's not easy to kick yer right leg in while ya kick
yer left leg out, and I never did give a shit what it was all about
anyway. I was always bout a half a leg behind everyone else. But,
what th heck, thas all behind me now. And, y'know, like, I'm not bitter
Fuck em! I din't wanna play or dance anyway. I preferred to jus get
drunk and stoned instead.
Ok, so anyway, fer th past week, besides th typin thing, th problem
here at Bilge Central has worsened. Fer some reason, either my remote
keyboard is fuckin up sendin a weak signal, or th unit itself is fucked
up and not receiving th signals. I dunno which, but it's a Bitch!
It's jus bout impossible to write three words without a mistake. Th
space bar jus seems to be on vacation or preoccupied or somethin.
Evidently don't got no time to be puttin no spaces between no words.
So, th message here is; suck it up boyz and gurlz. Be patient and
bear with me some more.
P.S. Ya know, ponderin th prob, I'm jus kindawonderin if my batteries
might be low. Mebbe thas it. Cus I been kinda inexplicablly tired
lately. Where besides th pipe, does one go to get one's batteries
June 16, 2007 5:37 PM
Did'ja happen to catch Mike Hendrick's column in
th Friday Local section of th paper Re our new Mayor? Very interesting
and incisive. Th mayor oughta read it and pay reel close attention.
If there was a re-election today, Alvin Brooks would be a shoe-in!
This Funkmeister clown is not who people voted for. Ya would have
to have had yer head buried in th sand th last few weeks to still
feel positive about this yahoo.
He doesn't' have any more business bein Mayor of this city than I
Hmmmm, now there's an interestin proposition, eh? Does that give ya
any ideas? Have ya heard any "Draft th Cap'm" rumors surge?
(if troops can surge, I guess rumors can too huh) Is Kansas City ready
fer a Benevolent Dictator, or should I jus say, "Fuck it"
and rule with an Iron Fist?
If elected, th first thing I'd do would be to accept a stretch Benz
from Aristocrat Motors and double my bodyguard staff. A household
staff of six would seem reasonable. Those funds could be transferred
from needless and wasteful Education and Welfare progams. I would
abolish th City Council and save th citizens hundreds of thousands
of dollars in wasted monies for those buffoons salaries.
All TIF financing would be handled by me personally, taking of course
th usual finders fee. Hey, a Mayor's gotta eat too you know! All city
contracts, business licenses, liquor permits, etc, would be taken
care of by my appointed friends and family.
We would go ahead and build th light rail, per th will of th voters.
I see no reason to get into a lot of time wastin competitive bids,
when I already know competent peoples who could handle all aspects
of th mission. Of, course, there would be a finders fee for th Mayor;
that would be Me.
And if Clay Chastain would like to put in his input, I would be willin
to arrange a sit-down with him, at my convenience, to discuss his
views, and if he jus din't happen to show up at th appointed time,
well sheeit, thas not my fault. I mean, like I'm not his babysitter!
OK. Mebbe he decided to take a vacation to America and jus forgot
to leave a forwardin address or mebbe he forgot to set his alarm,
How do I know?
Well, in keepin with th Amerikan tradition of politics, I got a few
ideas on how to make this berg jump and how to make this Mayoral gig
work fer th benefit of myself and my associates. Altho I haven't made
up my mind yet if I'm gonna run or not, I am well aware th clock is
ticking and 2012 is comin up fast.
How bout this campaign slogan?
"Th Cap'm for Today, for Tomorrow! For Always!"
God's Not Th Only One That Works In Mysterious Ways
June 14, 2007 6:15 PM
Earlier today, ramblin around town, runnin errands
and so forth, I stopped by th post office to buy a stamp. There were
seven peoples in th line ahead of me, and one of th workers was on
her break. So there was jus one lady on duty at th time. So, it took
me close to ten minutes to buy my one fucking stamp!!
I inquired of th lady there as to why they didn't jus put a stamp
machine there, so peoples like myself, who didn't require any personal
help from any one could jus put in 50 cents and not have to wait in
line long periods of time. She said they did have a machine, but you
had to buy ten dollars worth of stamps. But, see, I didn't need 24
fuckin stamps, I only wanted ONE. Man, whut bullshit.
I was told at one time that th reason they don't have em, is cuz many
luddite-minded postal workers were opposed to them, cuz they felt
like it was infringin on their duties. Afraid that their work load
might be replaced by a machine, y'know, and once ya open that can
of worms, lookout!! Like, today, a stamp machine, tomorrow a robot.
I don't know if that explanation is true or not, but can ya think
of one single good fuckin reason why all post offices shouldn't have
em fer th convenience of th Peoples???
I mean, sheeit, they could sell 41 cent stamps fer 50 cents, no problema!
I woulda been glad to give em an extra 9 cents to save ten minutes
of my time. After all, I am a BIP (busy, important personage), and
my time is ever so valuable, so I can afford to give th Guv'mint an
extra nine cents every now and then, without givin up too many amenities,
I mean, they coulda made an additional 22% over and above th stamp
price! Is this not a Capitalist system here or whut? Myself, I'm baffled!!
Young Love In These Modern Times
June 14, 2007 5:22 PM
Earlier today as I was driving thru th Plaza I happened
to notice this perky young teenage couple merrily stridin down th
sidewalk, hand in hand, swingin along, with out a care in th world.
And get this; they were both yakkin away on their cell phones, apparently
completely oblivious to each other!! Ha ha. I wish I'd had a camera
to capture that moment of youthful exuberance, innocence and naiveté.
It woulda made a good pic.
I have been thinkin what kinda caption I coulda put under that imaginary
I think it says something about US, and th culture/society/world we
live in today, but I don't know exactly whut! Anyways, if I'd had
a camera, I know my pic woulda got honorable mention in a photo contest.
So, like, if ya know any one whose havin an imaginary photo contest,
I gotta good imaginary pic to enter.
Th Power of Prayer
June 12, 2007 7:20 PM
I jus heard on th radio a few minutes ago where a
man was bein released from prison, as a result of new DNA evidence,
after servin 18 years on a rape/murder charge.
Th first thing he said on his release was,
"First and foremost, I would like to thank and give Praise to
God Almighty for delivering me from this ordeal"
Ha ha I find that amusin and confusin both, at th same time. This
kinda response always baffles me, cuz I woulda said,
"First and foremost, I would like to ask godalmighty, 'yo ese,
whut th fuck took ya so long'?"
"First and foremost godalmighty, I would like to know why in
th hell did'ja let those fuckers railroad me in th first place 18
Yeah, yeah, I know, don't tell me. God moves in mysterious ways. Thas
whut every one sez.
But, when it comes to th efficacy of prayer, I think instead, ya might
jus as well utilise yer time watchin Jerry Springer even. Or, mebbe,
lie on yer sofa and count th cracks in th ceiling. Cuz in th end,
"Que sera, sera!"
P.S. When some one tells ya,
"All we can do now is pray"
Translation: "Fugeddaboutt! We're fucked!"
Don't Fuck With The USA Baby!!
June 12, 2007 4:40 PM
I read in yesterday's paper where Sen. Joe Lieberman,
former Democrat, now Fucking Idiot, who along with about 9 other peoples
in this country, continues to support The Leader's handling of th
war, is suggestin that we conduct military strikes against Iran. He
"I think we've got to be prepared to take aggressive military
action against the Iranians to stop them from killing Americans in
Way to go Joe! I fer one, think thas a great idea. Since we already
accomplished our mission in Iraq several years ago, deposin that meanie,
Saddam Hussein, and subsequently bringin Freedom and Democracy to
th long sufferin Iraqis, and after eliminatin th Taliban and chasin
th rag-tag remnants in to Pakistan, where they can't hurt us, our
liberating troops are left in those countries with nothin to do but
hang around th barracks all day shootin craps and playin poker. Like
any other skill, military skills need to used constantly, lest th
troops go stale from inactivity. Y'know, th old, "Use it or lose
it." philosophy. Goin in and liberatin Iran too, would help keep
em busy and be one more feather in our Democratical Nation cap.
So, why not go into Iran and teach those fuckers a lesson? Now some
peoples think that after we defeat them in a couple of weeks, that
administerin them, and bringin Big Macs and other Democracy-type things
would be quite a challenge, cuz there's like 70 millions of them,
compared to 25 million Iraqis, I say,
"Bring it on!" After all, WE ARE AMERIKA, TH GREATEST COUNTRY
IN TH HISTORY OF TH WORLD. We can do eeet, cuz, like, thas whut we
do best. We accept Challenges, overcome them (see Iraq and Afghanistan)
and then TRIUMPH! Thas why they all call us, THE Super Power!
Frankly, I'm surprised that Joe didn't mention those pesky North Koreans
mean, like, we told those dudes loud and clear,
"Don't you DARE develop nucler weapons! Ya'hear!!"
And whut did they do? They went ahead and did it anyway. Jus to spite
us. After we warned em there would be serious consequences if they
disobeyed us. But still, they went ahead and then set one off, and
thumbed their noses at us and said,
"Nyah, nyah, nyah!! What are ya gonna do bout it Sammy!?"
Like a naughty child, they need a spanking. Here's whut I think we
oughta do about that, I think th N. Koreans, after 60 some years of
bein godless Commies, are jus too far gone fer Rehabilitation. I think
there's only one solution here, and I'll betcha Sen. Lieberman would
concur; a couple dozen high yield thermo-nuclar devices, well placed
about th countryside would do wonders fer their belligerent attitude.
Not only will that solve th North Korean Dilemma, but it will send
a sharp message to other countries around th world, who might not
be willin to heed our well intentioned advice. Haliburton and Bechtel
will be good fer ya. Reely!
Well, boyz and gurlz, send yer e-mails to Senator Joe and tell im
ya support his efforts to teach th Iranians a lesson. Send those infidels
"Don't fuck with us!! Cuz we're th United States of Amerika,
th Super Power, and th Greatest Country in the History of the World,
and don't ya ferget it Bubba!!"
And, oh yeah, I'm also thinkin those Syrians might be wise to show
a bit more respect too, cus we got th ability to bring some Freedoms
and Liberties to them too if ya catch my drift. wink wink.
P.S. By th way, if ya happen to run into that Osama bin Laden dude
at th mall, ya might also tell im, fer Joe and me,
"Ya can run Duke, but ya can't hide!!!"
June 10, 2007 5:25 AM
I'm sorry for sendin along that AP story about th
Paris Hilton Fiasco and Farce. I swore I wasn't going to add anything
to the absolutely insane coverage of this non-event, but I succumbed
too. Egads, we must be in a reely sad state of affairs, as a country,
that we will so completely focus on something so trivial as this,
so we don't have to think about th real, actual, serious problems
that confront us. Woe is us!
P.S. Can ya even begin to imagine th feedin frenzy that will be Paris's
release? That little twat will be on Letterman, and he will play his
avuncular role he seems to adopt with her, handin her tissues, while
she recalls th horrors of bein in th penitentiary. (Ha ha, no doubt
thas how she will describe it, rather than th county lockup) And Leno,
Oprah, Today Show, and every other godammed venue you can think of,
and it will be even more sickenin than it is now, if ya can imagine
that? Jus wait. I dunno, d'ya sometimes think there might be some
truth to th allegation that we are in fact, souless and decadent?!
Injustice In Amerika And The Dissolution Of All That Is Good And Fair
June 10, 2007 4:54 AM
By Associated Press Correspondent, Hy Perbole and
Foreign Correspondent Sal Manilla.
Martial Law was declared today in Los Angeles, as a crowd estimated
at 161,000 supporters, who call them selves, "hot-heads",
surged thru Rodeo Dr and other tony areas of the city, in protest
against the brutal and inhumane treatment of the symbol of Amerikan
Large contingents of National Guard troops were stationed thru out
the city in a futile effort to maintain order. The roar of the crowds
deafening, "NO RELEASE! NO PEACE!" could be heard, not only
thru out Las angeles, but indeed everywhere Freedom lives. Some carried
"When Paris is jailed, we are all jailed!"
"Today Paris, tomorrow, YOU!"
"Until Paris is Free, No one is Free."
One person told us,
"Y'know, it reely, like hits home, y'know cus like, when you
realize they can go after Paris, ya realize, like, they could go after
any one, includin yerself. Thas scary man! It's like when th Gestapo
went marchin thru Georgia, and arrested Martin Luther King, Jr. y'know
man, it's like, if they cn send her to jail, they could send anyone
who breaks th law, and thas jus not right!"
Another in the crowd told us,
"Ya'know, when they came for OJ, I turned my head. And when they
came for Robert Blake, I turned my head. But when they came for Paris,
that's when I snapped. I'm mad as hell and Im not gonna take it any
Rioting broke out in cities all across the country as, indeed all
across the globe, "hottheads" expressed their outrage. In
an unusual departure from his normally camera shy approach, even the
Reverend Al Sharpton had some harsh words for the California judge
responsible for this miscarriage of Justice.
In New York City it was reported by one wag who said that Lady Liberty
herself had a tear running down her cheek, but there's been no confirmation
of that. Unflappable, as usual, a staid and dignified Paris described
her ordeal as,"Doing time for Freedom". and she went on
"I only hope, that by my behavior and courage, I can be a model
for Freedom Loving young peoples everywhere, from th suburbs of Baghdad
to the Shores Of Tripoli, in spite of the fact that Baghdad isn't
reely a "hot" spot to shop, if you know what I mean."
she said, with a knowing wink.
And so, today, all across the globe, but especially those places where
the Flowers of Freedom and Liberty bloom, the crowds expressed their
outrage. On this day, there were no casualty reports from Iraq. no
talk of Immigration, no outcry for Health Care, all bi-partisan divisions
were set aside; only a united voice crying out in shared pain for
Freedom Fighter Paris Hilton, who is being hailed as the Joan of Arc
of Amerika. When told of that comparison, Paris smiled shyly and whispered,
Remember this day, when the candle of Liberty flickered, and the Amerikan
peoples rallied, as only we can, to preserve Freedom when ever and
where ever the Forces Of Evil and Oppression raise their ugly heads.
Say to them, Nyah, Nyah, Nyah!!
God Bless Paris Hilton! And God Bless Amerika. And May God Bless You
And Your Family, And Your Doggies. And Your Kitties Too! And God Bless
Everything That Exists, And May Global Warming Chill!!!
It's A Dog's Life
June 7, 2007 7:03 PM
Earlier today, after returnin from a drug run, where
incidentally, th girl behind th counter refused to give me th drugs
of my choice, I came back to th crib and as I was gettin outta th
car I saw this medium-sized dog, jus saunterin casually down th sidewalk,
without a care in th world, with a fairly large stick clutched in
th side of his mouth and draggin on th sidewalk behind him.
I gotta tell ya, I had pangs of jealousy as I watched him. He was
obviously very content and relaxed, with apparently not a whole lotta
stress in his doggie life. I wondered if mebbe he was on th return
trip from a game of "fetch" or what? I don't think so tho,
cuz there wasn't any body else around and he didn't seem to have a
destination in mind, and he sure as hell wasn't in any damned hurry
in any case. It seems like he was jus out fer a little laid back trek
round th hood, and I guess jus happened to find a particularly appealin
stick to drag along on his amble. Ya could see in his attitude and
th way he carried hisself, that Life was good and he was plenty OK
content with it all!
Wadin thru my Envy and reflectin on his attitude kinda got me to thinking
bout th simple pleasures in life. Y'know, appreciatin th Slo-Motion
of it all. So, I'm thinkin bout gettin up off this sofa here, and
findin a cool stick of my own, gettin a good grip on it between my
teeth, and takin a little relaxful stroll myself. I wanna chunk of
that “good life” too. All I gotta do now, is motivate
myself enuff to get up off this fookin sofa, and it's there fer th
Lewis "Scooter" Libby Sentenced To 30 Months In Prison
June 6, 2007 6:52 PM
Ha ha What a fuckin joke! Gimme a break. Sheeit,
th sun will fall right outta th sky before this scumbag ever spends
30 months in prison. Ain't gonna happen, no how, no way!!
P.S. But ya know whut? They oughta give th sack-o'-shit th 30 months
jus fer bein an old geezer with th nickname, "Scooter".
Mebbe ya might call yer nine y/o nephew that, but how many old duffers
ya know called Scooter?
They're doin it Again.
June 2, 2007 4:36 AM
I heard on th news tonite, describin th departure
of top aide Barkley from th Bush camp; it was referred to as part
of th "Texas Exodus". Isn't that catchy?
And a person associated with Hillary Clinton dismissively called Carl
Bernstein's new book about her, as nothin more than a "Rehash
for Cash". Man, those guyz are clever, eh?!
Th Scourge Of Queen
June 2, 2007 4:18 AM
I was sittin there in th tavern Mon nite near closin
time and th DJ was playin a track by Queen. I don't think there is
any group, anywhere, playin any kinda music, I loathe more than Queen!
Given th choice, I would rather listen to Barry Manilow.
But besides havin to endure em, what's worse, I had to listen to these
peoples singin along with em too. Thas one of th bad things about
em. Peoples like to sing along with em! And they were singin that
godam "bicycle" song. D'ya know th one I mean? Oh, I hate
that! Then they went into th "Bohemian Rhapsody" song. Mama
mia, mama mia, that song makes me wanna puke!
So, there were three young guys sittin near me who were all in a band
that had played there at th bar before, and they were all reely getting
into th thing, and I was sittin there grinnin cuz I had jus been thinking
bout how peoples like to sing along with em, and how many times I'd
been forced to listen to em durin karioke nites, and it was like,
deja vu, ya know.
And this kid sittin next to me saw me grinnin and he said,
"Hey dude, you like Queen too?"
And I laughed and said,
"Nah, not reely?"
And he said,
"Oh man, are you kiddin. C'mon dude, they're like, totally awesome!
What is it that you don't like about em?"
And I waved im off and told him it would take too much time to explain,
but he said he was reely interested, so I said,
"OK dude, but bein a big Queen fan, yer not gonna like this,
but...I think Freddy Mercury's death from AIDS was god's way of punishin
him fer releasin his Pestilence on th world, and I think th survivin
members oughta be rounded up and charged with Crimes Against Humanity,
fer th brutal violation of th Peoples Aural Sensitivities, and after
a brief trial oughta be incarcerated fer th rest of their natural
lives, unless they opted fer suicide, in which case th Government
would supply em with th means. And I think they oughta make possession
of any Queen's records, tapes or CDs, posters, etc, etc, anything
related to em at all, to be a Class A Felony with long sentences in
Max Security Prisons, and that each city should make their stadiums,
football fields, town squares, church parking lots, and so on, available
fer mass public burnings of any Queen's paraphernalia, and that Officer
Friendly be sent to all th schools in th land, warnin th chirrun of
their danger to Society and that Winstin Smith, in th Ministry of
Truth, should be assigned th task of purgin all references to em in
all publications, and that th name Queen, along with th individual
names of th band members be stricken from public memory, never to
be spoken of again!"
And th kid guffawed and said,
"OK dude, so, I take it you don't like Queen much, eh?"
And I said,
"Nah, not reely!"
And we both guffawed some more on that.
How bout you, boyz and gurlz, do you dislike Queen too?
P.S. And ya know whut? Every year, durin fooball season, durin each
NFL game, they play that, "We Will ROCK You!" song 4-5-6
times. Every game. All season long. And they been doin it fer 20 fookin
years! Man, Im tellin ya ese, that annoys th livin shit outta me.
And ya know whut else? I think they know how much that bugs me and
I think they be doin that on purpose too. It's jus another cog in
th Get Th Cap'm Machine!
Th Cap'm Stumbles Again
June 2, 2007 1:43 AM
OK, several peoples have written me who astutely
noted that in my recount of my bummer trip to th laundromat, and losin
350 bucks in th process, I listed th date as June 31st. This of course
was incorrect. Whut I meant to say was, May, 31st. It was also noted
that there is in fact no June 31st of any kind, June containin but
30 days, thus further compoundin my error. Th Horror. Th Horror.
Altho of course there is no excuse fer this kinda slovenly writin,
I would respectfully direct yer attention to th time of said infraction,
that time bein 4:49 AM, a time of th morn, when in a state of stoned
boozerment, I feel lucky to be able to jus maintain my perpendicularity,
much less provide much in th way of coherency.
I hope this has shed a ray of light on this embarrassin episode, and
that I can put it behind me and try and move on with my life. Such
as it is.
Th headline reads, "Dr. Death Freed From Prison"
June 1, 2007 4:47 PM
Dr. Death! What bullshit! Sheeit, why didn't they
jus say, "Dr Kervorkian, Death Rights Activist"? Those assholes
at Mind Control piss me off, y'know, th fuckers at th Ministry For
Propaganda. They got to break everythin down to simple little terms,
so that th dumbest amongst us cn understand, like, “Stay The
Course” or th flip side, “Cut And Run” or “Read
My Lips,” “Shock And Awe,” “The War Czar,”
“No Child Left Behind,” “The Patriot Act,”
“Weapons Of Mass Destruction,” “The Surge,”
“Click it or Ticket.” Th list goes on and on, but my favorite
tho gotta be, “The War On Terror.” Sheeit, reely, whut
th fuck does that mean?
How cn ya declare a war on an emotion? Sure it makes no sense, but
who sez any of these slogans gotta make any sense? Whut they reely
mean of course is, The War On TERRORISM', but who cares, cuz it sounds
good. Remember the 'War On Poverty'? They didn't call it, “The
War On 'Poor’”. “The War On Drugs?” They didn't
call that, The War On “High.”
They have to come up with these catchy little monikers and phrases
fer peoples so that th ignernt masses know whut they're talkin about.
I guess if they jus said, Dr. Kevorkian, no one would have any idea,
who they were referrin to, but Dr. Death?
"Oh yeah man, thas that dude goes round killin peoples."
Fuck th Dr. Death label. I for one, support Dr. Kevorkian in his attempts
to allow sane, intelligent individuals to surrender their lives in
a sanctioned, dignified, and thoughtful manner. There is no reason
why a person sufferin from an incurable, debilitating, drawn out,
painfully agonising disease, shouldn't be able to have his/her life
terminated in a peaceful, serene setting, (much like in Soylent
Green, albeit it without th byproduct produced there) with friends
and family gathered around, to say their final goodbyes, thus sparin
one's self and loved ones also, th prolonged agony, mentally and financially
of their impendin death.
If ya've ever had th misfortune of watchin a loved one die in pain
and agony fer months on end; when in th last month th person is so
doped up, as to not even be aware of their surroundings, maybe ya
know whut I mean. I can't think of a worse nightmare. I wouldn't endure
it myself, nor would I subject family and friends to such a tragedy.
I know lotsa peoples will disagree with me, but I have no doubt, that
in th future, there will be statues of Dr. Kevorkian in lobbies of
hospitals every where, in tribute to a pioneer who died, mostly reviled,
while he was still alive. Laff and jeer away if ya wanta, but there
But then again, as yer well aware, I could be wrong!
May 31st, 07'. A Dark And Bummer Day In Th Life Of The Cap'm
June 1, 2007 4:49 AM
Today, I went to do my monthly laundry chores. But
first, I stopped by th grocery store to pick up my supplies and then
headed to th laundromat. When I finished my business, I was a bit
disappointed to only find three five dollars bills in th dryers cuz
i usually find more. In th past I have found up to ninety bucks. Apparently
I seem to leave monies in my pockets. I spose this is a good example
of th ol expression, "It'll all come out in th wash.”
When I got back to th crib, when I went to empty out my pockets as
I always do, I took th three fivers and dropped em in my hat and I
went to take out th three 100's and a 50 I was also carryin, but,
oh wait, mutherfucker!!!! They weren't in my pants pockets or my shirt
pockets, or in th car or any other godam place to be found. I let
out a loud series of curses and insults to th gods. Ten Thousand Curses!!!
Three hundred and fifty bucks, PHFFFT! Gone! In a moment of pique,
I actually hurled a large glass vase against my former TV, completely
shattering them both. Th glass is still lying there all over th living
room floor. Mebbe I'll sweep it all up one day, mebbe I won't. Right
now, I'm still highly pissed and I don't much give a shit. Mebbe I'll
cut my feet on it. De nada, who cares!!
I didn't mention it to any one earlier this evening cuz I didn't wanna
hear th question,
"Gee cap'm thas too bad. So, where'd ya lose it?"
Shit, fuck! I dunno! I had it at th grocery store when I paid fer
my stuff, and two hours later, I didn't;t have it any more. And I
don't think even St. Anthony himself, could cover this caper. I mean,
th dude is good, but, like, he don't do windows or miracles either,
ya dig! Sheeit, I didn't even bother to ask.
P.S. Ya know whut I think happened to it tho? I think some person,
been strugglin financially, been prayin fer some kinda divine intervention,
been beseechin their god fer some help, and guess what? I was used
as th fookin mook to provide that money they been prayin fer. Hey,
sheeit ya'll, I know th score! Poisonally I think it's all part of
"Th Great Cosmic Conspiracy To 'Get' Th Cap'm". That same
posse that stole my clutch pedal and superglued my ignition years
ago. Thas whut I think! And ya know whut I say to that?
"UP YERS COSMOS! C'MON, GET SOME!"
May 30, 2007 3:07 PM
I was sittin in th saloon Saturday nite, rappin with
this gurl. She was pretty wasted and she was goin on about somthin
or other, when suddenly, from outta nowhere, a huge tsunami of beer,
twelve feet high, washed over me, completely engulfin me and sendin
me sprawlin head over heels, over and over and I was desperately tryin
to claw my way to th surface, which fer me, me isn't easy, by th way,
y'know, since, like I can't swim, and jus when I thought my lungs
would burst, I broke thru and gulped in as much air as I could. Whew!
See, like, whut happened was, as she was animatedly talkin, wavin
her arms about, gesticulatin wildly, her Zippo lighter was flung outta
her hand and landed with a big splash (see above) right in my full
beer, sendin beer all over my face and in my nose and on my coat.
OK, yeah, fer sure folks nearby all got some yucks outta that, but
as th recipient of all that beer, it wasn't so humorous to me.
OK, so, like, yeah mebbe I exaggerated a bit about th effects and
all, but still........sheeit man, it took me completely off-guard.
I wasn't expectin that, y'know whut I mean!
Wednesday, May 30, 2007 2:38 PM
I don't know whut's been th matter with me lately,
but I seem to have contracted a a severe form of Th Malaise. I don't
know from where exactly, but I think I may have picked it up off a
toilet seat. It can spread that way, y'know.
But, in any case, my mind seems to have slipped into neutral. There's
no action there. Stasis. I go thru this periodically, but th last
time it was this bad was back in th late ‘70s, but as Jimmy
Carter pointed out, it wasn't jus me. Lotsa other peoples had it then
too. Fortunately fer me, after four years of his dynamic leadership,
I felt better.
Mebbe a few hits off th crack pipe would perk me up.
Lookin Fer Somthin Good To Read
Wednesday, May 30, 2007 2:17 PM
I went to th library a few days ago. I've been readin
mostly nonfiction lately, so I decided to go th fiction route instead.
I was lookin fer som kinda light, fluffy thing to occupy some of my
time here on th sofa. Somthin simple, uncomplicated, y'know whut I
mean. Somthin that wouldn't tax my mental capacity.
So, I picked up Ulysses by James Joyce. And altho this book
is often hailed as one of th greatest masterpieces of literature,
I'm ashamed to admit; I've never actually read it! Altho I have attempted
to do so a half dozen times in th last fifty years.
So, I came back to th crib, sat my books on th floor and ensconced
myself here comfortably on th sofa, picked up Ulysses proceeded
to devour it. But after about twenty pages, I paused, and scanned
thru some of th later pages, and I thought,
"Hmmmm do I reely wanta wade my way thru another 750 pages of
And it didn't take a whole lotta thought to come to this conclusion,
"Fuck this lame shit. Gimme somthin challengin!"
So, I picked up a book by Dave Barry instead,
Heard while listening to NPR a couple days ago
Wednesday, May 30, 2007 1:51 PM
Thus saith th Bard.
"2B or, not 2B,
Is this my apartment?"
Uncle Benny Remembered
Monday, May 28, 2007 4:34 PM
With today being Memorial Day, I send this out again.
Most of you have read it before, but I do it every year anyway as
a tribute to my Uncle Benny, a true American Hero. I wrote this originally
back in 01.
Just recently I read a book called A Special Prisoner by
Jim Lehrer, the former co-host of the McNeil/Lehrer News hour on PBS.
He has written a number of fiction and non-fiction books over the
This book is about a B-29 pilot captured by the Japs (war time language)
during the waning months of WW11 when we were bombing Japanese cities
at will, their Air force having been mostly decimated by then. What
planes they did have left were being kept in reserve to be used as
Kamikaze planes for the the Final Defense of the Home Islands.
The Japanese considered these captured pilots as, "war criminals"
as a result of the complete and total destruction they were wreaking
throughout the entire country. Any captured allied pilot was thus
deemed a "Special Prisoner" and were subjected to the most
brutal, inhumane treatment imaginable from the very moment of their
Many were beaten to death by their civilian captors before they could
even be turned over to the military authorities. After that, survival
was measured in mere weeks. Only one out of twenty airmen captured
by the Japanese survived their detention! Whereas in Germany, the
survival rate was nineteen out of twenty.
Reading this book got me to thinking, with Memorial Day approaching.
It got me to thinking about my Uncle Benny. Benedicto Flores of San
Antonio, Texas, who died Nov.14, 1992.
My mother came from a large Mexican Catholic family of sixteen, of
whom 14 survived to adulthood. There were originally eight hermanos
and eight hermanas. During the war the Flores family had all seven
of its boys served (one having died in early childhood) during the
war. There are only a handful of other families who can claim that
distinction, and none who can claim more.
They did their duty. Three served in Europe and four in the Pacific.
Though some were wounded, all survived. As a kid in the late ‘40s
and ‘50s, watching movies like the Sands of Iwo Jima and
other war movies of the time I always used to try and get my uncles
to tell me about their "war adventures" as I thought of
them, but none of them would ever do so. Like so many others who had
been in actual combat, they had no desire to relive those terrible
experiences and then to share them with a 12 year old. It was understood,
that you didn't even mention it to Benny.
When I was growing up, my dad was a career Air Force officer and so,
because of frequent transfers we moved around a lot and were only
able to make it to San Antonio to visit all my uncles and aunts there
in between my dad’s assignments.
And because there were so many relatives and time was always limited,
we were not able to spend very much time with them individually, so
I never was able to develop the normal relationships with my aunts
and uncles and cousins, etc, most families enjoy, but I always looked
forward to seeing Benny. Having just read that book and tomorrow being
Memorial Day, I was reminded of my Uncle Benny.
You see, back in 1941, Uncle Benny, already being in the Army before
hostilities broke out, had the misfortune of being stationed in the
Philippines at the time. After Pearl Harbor, the Japanese struck swiftly
throughout SE Asia with alarming success.
As the Japanese invaded the Philippines, the American and Filipino
troops there, under the command of Gen. Douglas McArthur, were woefully
unprepared. After some resistance, McArthur and his Command Staff,
seeing the hopelessness of the situation, were evacuated to Australia,
(thereby forever earning for himself the dubious nickname of, "Dugout
Doug" in the minds of those left behind) leaving Gen. Jonathon
Wainwright in command.
After months of heroic, but futile resistance, subsisting on reduced
rations for months, with almost no ammunition or medical supplies,
the out-gunned, out-numbered allied forces with no air support and
no chance of re-supply or re-enforcements were finally forced to surrender.
Uncle Benny, along with 18,000 other POWs already malnourished and
in poor physical health, was forced to march 100 miles with virtually
no food or water to a former American Army post called Camp O’Donnell.
The infamous Bataan Death March ensued. Prisoners, unable to sustain
the brutal pace were beaten to death, bayoneted, beheaded and executed
for the duration of the entire march. 8,000 of them died on the way.
Only 10,000 made it to the camp, weakened and barely alive. Uncle
Benny was one of them.
For the next three and a half years they were worked and starved and
beaten to death by their captors. Living conditions were unbelievably
harsh and brutal. The daily death rate was appalling. Near the end
of the war there were only two thousand left. Uncle Benny was one
At this time the Japanese, realizing the Philippines were soon to
be invaded, decided to transfer these remaining survivors to the Japanese
home islands. They were loaded on to two transport ships, each holding
a thousand POWs apiece. Conditions on these ships made the Black Hole
of Calcutta look like a summer resort. Prisoners died standing on
their feet and remained there because there was no room to fall down.
Tragically, in one of those inexplicable misfortunes of war, while
en route to Japan, the ship Uncle Benny was on was bombed, strafed
and sunk by American planes, the pilots completely unaware of their
precious cargoes, as the ships were not marked in any way. Of the
thousand POWs on Benny’s ship, only fifty of them survived.
Uncle Benny was one of them.
At war's end, Uncle Benny weighed just seventy pounds. He looked like
survivor of Auschwitz. In situations like that, the only people who
survive are the STRONG. The weak, though maybe the Best, most Humane,
and Moral of people, do not survive. Only the Strongest survive! Uncle
Benny was one of those.
After recovering in the hospital for many months, eventually Benny
was discharged and moved back home, into the house on 1100 Denver
St. in San Antonio where he was born. He remained there until his
death back in ‘92.
He was a life-long solitary bachelor, who subsisted on the meager
proceeds from a second hand furniture store he owned. He was a heavy
drinker his whole life. And, who can blame him? He endured what we
cannot even imagine.
And yet, he was always a low-keyed, mild mannered man around us. He
had quiet, sad eyes, and he often times seemed lost in thought and
a bit unfocused, as though he was someplace else. I could never imagine
him being mad about anything, because he was always so gentle around
us, but on the other hand, he always seemed to be getting out of some
minor scrape with the law. (That was one of the things I liked about
him Ha ha)
I used to ask him how he got that black eye, or this bump or that
bump, but he would just laugh shyly and dismiss it and say it was
nothing. No matter! I think that whatever transgressions Benny may
have committed in his life, are forever expiated by the Living Hell
he endured for three and a half years.
In retrospect, I suspect Benny was a lot madder than I would have
ever known. I think he kept his Anger, and Resentment bottled up and
hidden from us. He had personally endured the depth of Man’s
Inhumanity to his fellow Man. I don't think any of us realised the
extent of the painful memories he carried within, for the rest of
And maybe too, maybe he felt Guilt. as many do in situations where...
they wonder..."Why me?"... Why they lived? Against all odds?
… when so many others around them died?!
I wish I could have sat down, as an adult in my own right, with Benedicto
Flores and gotten to know him as a Man, as the Man he really was...
and not the notion I had of him as, Uncle Benny, my “favorite
uncle,” but as Benedicto Flores, a genuine American Hero, who
deserves to be remembered with the utmost Love and Respect. I wish
I had been there for Uncle Benny, when he needed some one to be there
for him, like he was there for you and I, from March ‘42 til
Aug. ‘45. I wish I had had the privilege to have known him better!
When Uncle Benny died back in ‘92, they didn't discover his
body until several days later. He had become a recluse. The utilities
had been long turned off. He had sat in the darkness, drinking his
muscatel, alone with his despair, and gave in one night. He was apparently
just another reclusive wino, dying alone.. amidst the detritus and
clutter surrounding him.
The circumstances of his death were, and still are....so sad.
Where were we, Uncle Benny? Where were We when you needed Us? You,
who endured so much on our behalf, died alone and forgotten like a
piece of discarded furniture. I'm sorry Uncle Benny; We all let you
down; your family, your countrymen, your government. All of us!
Ironically, a few days after his death they found a hand written Will
leaving TWO HUNDRED THOUSAND dollars in CASH to the Pope! And $124,000
in real estate to the Church, and yet he died seemingly destitute.
And then, a couple of years later, family members received a statement
from the Vatican acknowledging Receipt of the two hundred thousand.
Although they acknowledged receipt, but I guess their mothers never
taught them any manners. because they forgot to say, "Thank you."
Which rankles me to this day!
And so, once a year I send this out in tribute and remembrance to
Benedicto Flores, my beloved Uncle.
Newest Headline Story Off My Home Page
Wednesday, May 23, 2007 1:07 AM
I'm gonna have to start payin more attention I guess
to th headlines cuz I never realized before how interestin and informative
they could be. Like, fr'instance, th latest,
"New Iraq Plan Focuses On Bad Actors"
OK, OK, geeze! Whut in th hail is Georgie doin now? I mean, I know
th Administration is gettin desperate fer some kinda solution to this
annoyin situation, but, sheeit, are they goin after mediocre dinner
theatre playhouse actors now? Are they th new scapegoats fer everything
thas gone wrong? Or mebbe bad Iraqi sit-com actors? Or whut? Jus who
are these so-called 'bad actors' any way, and who decides whether
they're reely bad, or mebbe jus havin a bad nite?
Who are these anonymous critics and whut are their credentials?
And sheeit, besides all that, how in th fuck is that gonna help us
bring Democracy to th Freedom and Peace Loving Peoples of that country
any fuckin way?
I mean, like, so whut If we purge th whole damned country of all these
inferior thespians? How's that gonna get em any electricity? Is that
gonna be our rallyin cry to th Shiites and th Sunnis, hopin to bind
em together in a common cause, in spite of their rabid loathing of
each other? Instead of
"Death To The Infidel Invaders.",
now it'll be?
"No More Bad Actors! No More Bad Actors!"
Myself, I'd try another approach.
Th Sales Racket
Tuesday, May 22, 2007 7:31 PM
I was jus lyin here and recollected an incident that
happened back in ‘68-‘69 mebbe. I was sellin business
machines and supplies fer 3M at th time. Our boss had had a speaker
come into our office to try and sign us up fer a three-day motivational
sales course put on by th Dale Carnegie peoples. Zig Ziglar, a well
know motivational speaker at th time was also goin to give a presentation.
Woohoo, that was a big deal, to hear th great Zig Ziglar, th legendary
salesmen's salesman in person.
El jefe was willin to cover half th lug fer th course to any of us
who wanted to take advantage of th deal. He told us we should all
jump on an opportunity like that. And it was more than jus implied
that all of us could use some assistance with our sales figures. Ha
Th guy pitchin th deal was a young dude about my age (27-28) and all
th salesmen were assembled in th sales room. He put on a pretty good
and convincin presentation. He told us how years before he had himself
taken th course and had seen th results fer hisself in improved sales
numbers. He was so impressed that he decided to sell th course itself.
After he finished with his pitch, he told us all to take a minute
and mull it over. I thought it sounded like a pretty good deal myself.
Years earlier when I was a teenager and sellin encyclopedias door
to door thru out Georgia and N. Florida I used to read all th self-help
kinda paperbacks at th time, like, "Think, and Grow Rich"
and "How to Win Friends and Influence People" and other
such fare. So, I figured this kinda course jus might help me out.
He was sittin in a chair at th front of th room rappin with one of
th guyz and I was gettin ready to tell him to sign me up, and he crossed
his leg and I couldn't help but notice he had a hole in th sole of
his shoe. I thought to myself.
"Hey, wait a minute here Duke. Whoa! What kinda shit is this?
If this dude has taken this terrific sales course hisself, and if
it's soo fookin good, then why in th fuck-all can't he buy hisself
a new pair of shoes?"
And so, I turned around and went back to my chair and sat down and
breathed a sigh of relief. Whew. Jus in th nick of time. That was
close. I told a couple of th guys about why I had changed my mind.
While I was tellin em, I started to chuckle. One of th guys asked
me what I was laughin about and I told him I was thinkin about all
th stuff I was gonna do with th 375 bucks I had jus saved myself.
We all had a chortle outta that.
While I was chucklin, I was also thinkin bout my other sales job;
sellin dope. See in that sales game, ya don't need any special sales
techniques, ya know whut I mean. Like, all ya gotta do is say,
"Here's what I got! This is how much it costs. How much do ya
And buyers would beat a path to yer door. Ha ha No charisma necessary!
Th only flaw with that scheme was tho: that th Feds beat a path to
my door too. Completely uninvited and un-welcome, y'unnerstan. I said,
"Ooops" and they took me away fer some Rehabilitation. And
so, after I was rehabilitated, I never got back in th sales game ever
again. My heart jus wasn't in it any more, ya dig!
This is a bit weird.
May 22, 2007 5:39 PM
I jus read a headline on my home page, which said,
"FDA OK's pill to end periods"
Thas cool, but what about comma's and apostrophe's and other stuff
This is jus another example of typical fuckin government bureaucracy
crap. They always go off and do everything half-assed, and never finish
th whole job! I didn't even bother to waste my time to read what ever
hair-brained scheme they had come up with. Don't matter, cuz I'm keeping
my periods any way.
Here US Government; take these and stick em up yer ass!!!
..................... and these
Monday, May 21, 2007 7:25 PM
This is George Carlin's website. Go there to see what
he has to say about all the crap attributed to him on the net.
Golfing Nun Joke
Monday, May 21, 2007 5:17 AM
OK, ya'll, this is for all you golfers and friends
of golfers and appreciators of a good joke. I don't often pass jokes
along but I found this one jus too funny not to.
A nun walks into Mother Superior's office and plunks down into a chair.
She lets out a sigh heavy with frustration.
"What troubles you, Sister?" asks the Mother Superior. "I
thought this was the day you spent with your family."
"It was," sighed the Sister. "I went to play golf with
my brother. We try to play golf as often as we can. You know I was
quite a talented golfer before I devoted my life to Christ."
"I seem to recall that," the Mother Superior agreed. "So
I take it your day of recreation was not relaxing?"
"Far from it," snorted the Sister. "In fact, I even
took the Lord's name in vain today!"
"Goodness, Sister!" gasped the Mother Superior, astonished.
"You must tell me all about it!"
"Well, we were on the fifth tee...and this hole is a monster,
Mother, a 540-yard Par 5, with a nasty dogleg left and a hidden green...and
I hit the drive of my life. I creamed it. The sweetest swing I ever
made. And it's flying straight and true, right along the line I wanted...and
it hits a bird in mid-flight not 100 yards off the tee!"
"Oh my!" commiserated Mother Superior. "How unfortunate
that was! But surely that didn't make you blaspheme, Sister!"
"No, that wasn't it," admitted Sister. "While I was
still trying to fathom what had happened, this squirrel runs out of
the woods, grabs my ball and runs off down the fairway!"
"Oh, that would have made me blaspheme!" said Mother Superior,
"But I didn't, Mother Superior!" sobbed the Sister. "And
I was so proud of myself! And while I was pondering whether this was
a sign from God, this hawk swoops out of the sky and grabs the squirrel
and flies off, with my ball still clutched in his paws!"
"So that's when you cursed," said Mother Superior with a
"Nope, that wasn't it either," cried the Sister, anguished,
"because as the hawk started to fly out of sight, the squirrel
started struggling, and the hawk dropped him right there on the green,
and the ball popped out of his paws and rolled to about 18 inches
from the cup!"
Mother Superior sat back in her chair, folded her arms across her
chest, fixed the Sister with a baleful stare and said,
"YOU MISSED THE FUCKING PUTT, DIDN'T YOU!"
Now, thas gotta elicit a chuckle, doesn't it?