joe dreck
July 3, 2007

Joe Dreck, the Captain, drives a black limo with the number 13
on the license plate and a stuffed black cat in the back window.
Email
Capthoohah@webTV.net.

Subject: Another Mystery Solved; Th Cap'm Will Sleep Better Tonite
Date:
Monday, 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? Huh?

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?

th cap't

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!


Subject: The Insane Cigarette Pack Whackers Are Still Out There!
Date:
Saturday, 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,

RICHARD NIXON!

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 one.

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.

th cap'm


Subject: Lest They Forget
Date:
Friday, 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 whut?

"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 Herald.

He got bumped by Nicole and Paris and ya know he's grateful as hell to em both!!

th cap'm

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.


Subject: The Duke Of Darkness?
Date:
Friday, 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 by.

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 shadow behind!

th cap'm


Subject: Bumper Sticker
Date:
Thursday, June 28, 2007 9:50 PM

I saw a rather amusin bumper sticker earlier that said.

"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!

th cap'm


Subject: A Simple Solution To A Complex Problem
Date:
Sunday, 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 payin attention.

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,

"Hmmmmm."

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 advise.

"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.

th cap'm

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 message.
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.


Subject: Whyizzthis?
Date:
Saturday, 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 em,

"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?

th cap'm

P.S. Speakin of things that don't happen: ya ever know anybody from New Hampshire named Archie? Nah, I din't think so!


Subject: STAND BY: WE ARE EXPERIENCING TECHNICAL DIFFICULTIES
Date:
Friday, 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 hop either.

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 or anything.

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.

th cap'm

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 recharged?


Subject: Faunkyhouser
Date:
Saturday, 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 do?

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!"

th cap'm


Subject: God's Not Th Only One That Works In Mysterious Ways
Date:
Thursday, 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!!

th cap'm


Subject: Young Love In These Modern Times
Date:
Thursday, 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 photo?

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.

Lemme know.

th cap'm


Subject: Th Power of Prayer
Date:
Tuesday, 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'?"

or possibly,

"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 years ago?"

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!"

th cap'm

P.S. When some one tells ya,

"All we can do now is pray"

Translation: "Fugeddaboutt! We're fucked!"


Subject: Don't Fuck With The USA Baby!!
Date:
Tuesday, 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 said,

"I think we've got to be prepared to take aggressive military action against the Iranians to stop them from killing Americans in Iraq."

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 tho. I
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 th message,

"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.

th cap'm

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!!!"


Subject: My Apologies
Date:
Sunday, 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!

th cap'm

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?!


Subject: Injustice In Amerika And The Dissolution Of All That Is Good And Fair
Date:
Sunday, 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 Innocence.

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 banners proclaiming,

"When Paris is jailed, we are all jailed!"

and,

"Today Paris, tomorrow, YOU!"

and,

"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 more!"

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 to say,

"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,

"That's hot!"

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!!!

AP

th cap'm


Subject: It's A Dog's Life
Date:
Thursday, 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 grabbin.

th cap'm


Subject: Lewis "Scooter" Libby Sentenced To 30 Months In Prison
Date:
Wednesday, 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!!

th cap'm

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?


Subject: They're doin it Again.
Date:
Saturday, 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 cap'm


Subject: Th Scourge Of Queen
Date:
Saturday, 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?

th cap'm

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!


Subject: Th Cap'm Stumbles Again
Date:
Saturday, 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 cap'm


Subject: Th headline reads, "Dr. Death Freed From Prison"
Date:
Friday, 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 it is.

But then again, as yer well aware, I could be wrong!

th cap'm


Subject: May 31st, 07'. A Dark And Bummer Day In Th Life Of The Cap'm
Date:
Friday, 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.

th cap'm

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!"


Subject: Disaster Strikes
Date:
Wednesday, 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!

th cap'm


Subject: Lethargy
Date:
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.

th cap'm


Subject: Lookin Fer Somthin Good To Read
Date:
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 this?"
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,

th cap'm


Subject: Heard while listening to NPR a couple days ago
Date:
Wednesday, May 30, 2007 1:51 PM

Thus saith th Bard.

"2B or, not 2B,
Is this my apartment?"

th cap'm


Subject: Uncle Benny Remembered
Date:
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 years.

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 capture.

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 of them.

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 a
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 his life.

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.

th cap'm


Subject: Newest Headline Story Off My Home Page
Date:
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 cap'm


Subject: Th Sales Racket
Date:
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 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 want?"

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!

th cap'm


Subject: This is a bit weird.
Date:
Tuesday, 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 like
that?

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
too''''''''''''''';;;;;;;;;;;:::::::::!!!!!!!!!""""""""""

th cap'm


Subject: georgecarlin.com
Date:
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.

th cap'm


Subject: Golfing Nun Joke
Date:
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, with sympathy.

"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 knowing smile.

"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?

th cap'm


              
              
                 

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