joe dreck
May 2008

Joe Dreck, the Captain, has always known the legal
system ain't worth diddley...unlike the Bo.

Subject: Bo Diddley, Who Gave Rock His Beat, Dies at 79 - Obituary (Obit) -
Tuesday, June 3, 2008 4:20 PM

Big Bo checks out.

He was always one of my favorites. There was no mistaking th Bo Diddley sound.

I saw him play one time in 1961 in Atlanta, Ga. at my then girlfriend's high school prom. It was Bo Diddley! What more can I say!!!?

th cap'm

Subject: Fuck Th Judge, Fuck Th City Attorney, Fuck th Clerk. Fuck Th Bailiff!
Monday, June 2, 2008 5:54 PM

FUCK TH WHOLE GODAM FUCKED UP SYSTEM! I am so godammed pissed off right now, I can hardly see straight. Lemme tell ya what happened.

Ten months ago, early of a Sunday morn, about 1:30 AM, I was given a completely bogus parking ticket. I was parked within 40 feet of a sign that said.


Note, I was parked within th time frame between restricted parking. Besides that fact, further note, it was on a weekend, and thus there weren't any parking restrictions of any kind anyway. But, no matter, I still got a ticket! I was cited fer,


I called Municipal Court th following Monday to get a court date to plead NOT GUILTY, but was told I would have to wait fer th city to mail me a notice of th violation.

So.... I waited. And waited. After a couple of months, I called back. They told me that since I hadn't heard from them by then, to basically ferget it. So, I did.
Until two weeks ago, that is, TEN FUCKING MONTHS LATER, I got a court date fer today.

So, I took a half dozen photos of th sign, and where my car was parked, and any Moron could easily see I was not illegally parked.

Today I went to Courtroom D at 2:30, as instructed. There was a notice there that th early mornin dockets had been moved to other courts, but under th 2:30 docket, there was an arrow pointing down sayin, HERE. So I went in to Courtroom D and waited. And waited. At 3:30, havin been there an hour, there were no other cases bein heard. Th Judge said Court Adjourned. I approached th bench and said,

"Yer Honor, I was supposed to be on th 2:30 docket, but my name was never called.

She said,

"Sir, I told you court was adjourned!"

I said,

"Yes, I know, but your honor, no one ever called my name."

She said,

"I'm th Judge here, not the Clerk! You need to talk to her."

Godam fucking Bitch!

Th godam fuckin bitch clerk told me my case had been moved to Courtroom C. I told her th sign didn't say that, and I'd jus wasted an hour of my time fer nothin. She told me it wasn't her fault and turned away, ignorin me.

Godam fucking Bitch!

So, I went to Courtroom C, and waited there fer 50 fucking minutes more!

Finally, my name was called and th heinous charges of "Illegal Parking" was called out. I got up and plead "Not Guilty" and had my pics ready to back up my story. Th City Prosecutor told th Judge th officer wasn't present and requested a continuance. I protested tellin th Judge that I had already taken 2 hours off work of unpaid leave, spent money on gas, parking, etc. to be there and it wasn't my fault th officer was playin golf today, that I had showed up in spite of inconveniences and that, not only that, but that I had photos showin that I wasn't even parked illegally, and if th Judge would take jus 30 second to look at em, he would see there wasn't any need fer a continuance anyway.

Th Judge told me he was going to give th city their continuance and set July 7th as my next trial date! Th mutherfuckin asshole.

Th godam fucking Bastard!

I told im it was ridiculous that any one should have to go thru this type of nonsense over a parking violation. He told me to shut up. I repeated if he would take 20 seconds of his time, neither th Court, th officer, me or any one else would need to waste any more time on this minor, but ridiculous parking ticket.

He told me to shut up again and threatened me with Contempt of Court. Now th bailiff was movin in my direction. He said if I said anything more he was gonna remove me from th courtroom. I snorted and said,

"Wow! This is ridiculous!"

He nodded to th bailiff and he took my arm, and I said,

"Never mind, I'm leavin peacefully." And th mutherfucker nodded again to th bailiff,and he released me and I walked out puttin my lid back on my head before gettin outta th courtroom, mutterin

"Justice in Amerika, whatta joke."

and was surprised to get outta there.

I always joke with peoples bout never leavin home without Bail Money, and normally woulda had it on me, but because of a deposit I had made earlier at th bank, I didn't have it. Sheeit, I woulda taken th Contempt beef, jus fer th hell of it! I also figured that by th time I made arrangements thru a bondsman, my car would be given another parkin ticket, and so I left and been ragin, and cussin and sputterin ever since.


th cap'm

P.S. Y'know, those pricks don't give a shit what kinda trouble. money, inconvenience, etc, you have to go thru to go back down there, on a parking ticket, fr'chrissake, cuz they're all gettin paid anyway!

Subject: Motor Scooters
Saturday, May 31, 2008 3:35 PM

Lately, I've noticed a proliferation of these little Vespa-type scooters putterin about. Mostly driven by young gurls and middle-aged ladies.

After observin their habits and customs. it's apparent to me that they are all former, "bicyclists". I think they all got their Driving Degrees from th Amerikan Bicycle Academy, whose itinerary has not a single word on, "Laws, Rules, and Regulations On The Road", becus as we are all painfully aware, said laws don't apply to em anyway; they're on a bicycle!!

Some where they got th notion (see ABA above) that jus cuz they're on a cute little pink motor-scooter..... that they're immune from bein run into poles, ditches, trees, etc. and all th other places we send their other two-wheeled friends to, becuz of their lack of respect fer th four-wheeled vehicle set. One of which would be Moi!

They have apparently been Brain-washed and Propagandized by th Fanatics and Zealots of th Bicycle Faction to th point where their gray matter has turned to green jelly. It's time we band together and TAKE BACK OUR STREETS!

Obviously we're gonna have to make a high-profile example of one of em to get our point across. If there are no other volunteers, I myself will take up th Challenge. After selectin a derservin target, upon Impact, so there's no doubt bout what jus transpired, I will shout out,



OK, so.... if yer with me, say, "YEAH!" We will clear these vermin off our streets before they can breed and multiply and further pollute our precious gene pool!

Say, "YEAH!!"

th cap'm

Subject: Won't Some One Pleeze Help?
Friday, May 30, 2008 8:28 PM

Given th depth of peoples dis-satisfaction with th Republican party, as exemplified by th 2004 Congressional elections, and based on th record low rating of Geo. Bush, th Leader, a year and a half ago, it would have seemed th Dems could win an overwhelming Presidential election this year, no matter who they ran! Daffy Duck was electable, at least accordin to some of my sources on th street.

But after a one and a half year long nomination process, which was pretty much a process of self evisceration, it will now be a struggle for them to win.
So, what I'm askin is; will some one...any one...pleeeeze, tell thEgo-Maniacal Duo of Hillary and Bill to jus,


I tried! But obviously, they're not listenin to me I would be perfectly happy if I never heard another peep from either one of em fer th rest of my life!!

Pleeeze....any one?

th cap'm

P.S. When next you see either one of em on th TV, usher th kiddies outta th room, cus th portrait of Blind, Selfish, Greedy Ambition is not one fer innocent young eyes!!! They see enuff garbage already on tv.

Subject: Annual Memorial Day Tribute To My Uncle Benny
Friday, May 23, 2008 3:52 PM

You know that every year I send this out as a way of remembering my Uncle Benedicto Flores. I hope it doesn't get tiresome, but there are some things that are worth remembering and preserving.

Although many millions served with honor and distiction in World War Two, and suffered the crushing agonies and misfortunes of War, only a few, like Uncle Benny endured the Horrors of the Jap Concentration camps. And even fewer survived! You would have to speak with another survivor to truly understand what they endured.

And although I do not like John McCain or his poitical views, I do have the utmost respect for him for what he went through as an American POW.

Anyway, below is the bit I wrote originally back in 2000.


A couple of days ago I read a book concerning an american POW of the Japanese. Today, being Memorial Day and all, and having just finished that book, got me to thinking about my Uncle Benny. Benedicto Flores that is, of San Antonio, Texas, who died Nov. 14th, 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 it's boys served during the war. (one having died in early childhood) I believe this is a record for the number of members from one family who served. All 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 in my family, that you didn't even mention it to Uncle 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 of them. 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. I thought about Uncle Benny today.

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 S.E.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, leaving Gen. Johnathon Wainwright in command. (thereby forever earning for himself the dubious nickname of, "Dugout Doug" in the minds of those left behind)

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 cover 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 enough as it was, but adding to their fears, during morning roll call, the Commander of the camp selected men at random to be executed that day. They all lived in daily fear they would be chosen some day.

Near the end of the war there were only two thousand left. Uncle Benny was one of them.

At this time the Japanese 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 wars 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 and boozer. He was also a life-long faithful member of St. Gerard's Parish. Uncle Benny subsisted on the meagre 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.

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 bruise, but he would just laugh shyly and dismiss it and say it was nothing. No matter! I could care less! I think that whatever transgressions Benny may have committed in his life, are forever expiated by the unimaginable Living Hell he suffered through 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. I don't think any of us realised the extent of the painful, vivid memories of Man's Capacity for Inhumanity to his Fellow Man he carried within himself for the rest of his life. I don't think he was ever able to reconcile and come to terms with that. And maybe too, on top of everything else, he felt GUILT, as many do in situations, where... they wonder?... why they lived? Against all odds?.... when so many others around them died?! "Why Me?"

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 childhood notion I have 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 us, 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 and his Spirit just gave up 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.. sooo Sad. Where were we Uncle Benny? Where was I? Where were the rest of us, your family, your government, your fellow Americans, when you needed Someone? You, who endured so much on our behalf, died alone and forgotten like a discarded, worn out piece of funiture from your junkstore? I'm sorry Uncle Benny; We all let you down.

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 pennyless and destitute.

A couple of years later, family members received a statement from the Vatican acknowledging Receipt of same. 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 very day)

the cap't

Subject: Th Giant Chicken Menace
Friday, May 23, 2008 1:29 PM

As ya know from recent scribblins, I myself have had some experience with th Big Black Chicken, altho as it turns out, not exactly what I thought, but, thas neither here nor there, eh? A minor detail, cuz they coulda been real!!

In any case, with th Memorial Day approachin, and th various festivities involved there, many of which feature Chicken, ya might be payin close attention to this article about th wave of chicken attackings takin place around th country.

Be ever vigilant and on yer guard. And if, Zeus forbid, ya should find yer own damn Bad self under attack, remember in yer final thoughts, before th Death Darkness envelops ya,

"Well, th cap'm warned me! SIGH"

access to article at

Subject: Great Article By Jim Webb, Senator From Virginia
Friday, May 23, 2008 12:35 PM

This was sent to me by my buddy, mike g. pretty thought provoking. I think the senator would make an excellent choice for Obama as VP. He seems to have a purpose about him, combined with a sense of, not just duty, but a sense of whether something is right, or wrong, in the way he views things.

Having served in combat himself during the Vietnam years, rather than spending that time in the national guard (maybe) like some peoples, or getting deferrments like cheney, rumsfeld, and other war mongers of that ilk, I get the strong impression that Jim Webb would think long and hard on the ethical, moral and strategic issues involved, before committing American troops, and thus America itself, to War!


What It Means To Be a Leader
By Senator Jim Webb
Published: May 18, 2008 Adapted from A Time to Fight Jim Webb
(Broadway Books, 2008).

Read the full chapter.

On June 5, 1968, I had the honor of taking the oath of office as a second lieutenant in the United States Marine Corps. Thus my professional career began with a vow to protect the Constitution against all enemies, foreign and domestic, at a time when the country was riven by external and internal conflict.

Our instructors at the Marine Officers Basic School were handpicked from among the finest young officers in the Corps. Almost all had been in combat, and many bore visible scars. As the months at school went by, they repeatedly and unendingly challenged us with an age-old mantra:

What do you do now, lieutenant?

Just before we graduated, a tough but insightful lieutenant colonel who had fought in World War II, Korea and Vietnam gave us a speech, a warning that echoes in my memory almost every day. He recounted a story of a fight in Korea that went incredibly bad, where, for all his experience, he made an error in judgment.

"I had the enemy pinned down on a ridge," he said. "I set up a base of fire and sent 13 Marines into the tree line in order to envelop the enemy. Thirteen Marines went into the tree line, and all 13 were killed. And, gentlemen, there is not a day that goes by when I don't think of that."

The colonel then spoke of the inalienable bottom line of combat leadership:

While all Marines are equally in harm's way, it is the leaders who must make the decisions about what to do, then live with the results. What he may not have realized is that he also spelled out the responsibility that sits on the shoulders of all leaders.

In the long months I spent as a rifle platoon and company commander in Vietnam's infamous An Hoa Basin, the colonel's admonition resonated again and again. We constantly operated in blown-out populated areas, moving from village to village and digging new perimeters every few days. The An Hoa Basin was a bloody, morally conflicted mess. Enemy contact came in every imaginable form, from small cells of local Viet Cong to regiment-sized North Vietnamese Army units.

And every day, we who led the squads, platoons and companies were required to make decisions that would have confounded the seminars on ethics and philosophy at universities where some of our peers now grappled intellectually with the war we had been sent to fight.

Sometimes such moral dilemmas became deeply personal. Clearing village bunkers was a normal process when we were facing enemy contact. Every Vietnamese family had a bunker next to its porch. When firefights broke out, families went into their bunkers. But it was a common tactic for enemy soldiers to hide there as well, often allowing them to open fire on us from behind. So a routine developed, which the Marines and the villagers understood. Marine teams would move from bunker to bunker, telling villagers to come out. After that, a Marine would throw a grenade into the bunker, then one of them would enter it, making sure it was clear.

During one sweep, the Marine who jumped into the bunker following the blast found that three people had not come out. A younger man, probably a local Viet Cong, had been killed. Hardened by combat, we shrugged him off. But the other two stopped my heart even in the mind-numbing repetition of tragedy that defines war.

A gray-haired man in white pajamas, probably a grandfather, was dead, having wrapped himself around a small boy to protect him from the blast. It was clear that his final thoughts were of the boy. His shocked, opaque eyes and his still-curled body were the very definition of love and human sacrifice. The boy was still alive, although barely.

We were in contact with the enemy, and night would soon be upon us. I walked through the village, setting up our defensive positions and calling in a report to our commander. A corpsman followed me, cradling the boy in his arms. He and I had now served together through seven months of hard combat. We had seen a mountain of tragedy, and we kept nothing from each other. He was insistent:

"Skipper, if you don't get this kid out of here right now, he's going to die."

I called for a medevac, but I knew what the answer would be. Emergency medevacs were available only for Marines. We were in a high-risk landing zone. Vietnamese civilians could only be given "routine" medevacs when landing zones were calm and all Marines had been taken care of.

What do you do now, lieutenant?

I couldn't lie to my chain of command. There weren't any wounded Marines. I made a case for the boy and lost. "They'll only bring it in as a routine," I told the doc. We knew this could take hours.

"All right," he answered, clearly exasperated. "Then you watch him die."

The doc put the boy on a wooden box next to our command post. Over the next half hour, as I spoke on the radio, the boy lay near me quietly, never making a sound, all the while watching me. Nor could I stop watching him. And as we stared at each other, he slowly died.

There are still moments when I look back and see the little boy's brown eyes and the curled corpse of the grandfather whose last thought had been to save him. I will never forget them, nor should I. The An Hoa Basin filled us all with a lifetime of such stories.

When you have personalized death, looked into the eyes of innocent people as the life drained out of them, watched lives torn apart not once but hundreds of times, friends, enemies and those caught in between, it brings not only sadness but also an oddly stubborn wisdom. When you have watched an enemy fight with ferocity and often with honor, you tend to conclude that on some level you have more in common with those you were trying to kill than you do with people who view wars only as an intellectual debate.

And when you have served among good people, fellow Marines, some of whom you came to love with the same intensity as you do your own family, there are few others you will meet in your lifetime who can ever gain that same level of trust and respect.

As the colonel intimated in his talk, a sense of accountability is the burden of leadership, whether in combat or on Capitol Hill. When you have the authority to make decisions, you inherit the responsibility to accept the consequences and the obligation to use your authority for the common good.

What has this got to do with the politics of today?


Our country is in the middle of a profound crisis. This crisis has many causes, but much of it has been brought about by poor leadership decisions at every level of government. In addition, our electoral process is dominated by financial interests that are threatened by the very notion of reform.

Elections shouldn't be media circuses, nor should they be auctions where a candidate sells himself to the highest bidder. They should be moral contracts between those who wish to lead and those who are consenting to be led.

What, then, must we do?

In one form or another, this question is asked daily in every community and in almost every household around the world. In authoritarian societies, it's whispered; in others, it is debated. In America, we quite frankly find ourselves doing a little of both.

Our challenges lie in improving the way we've been selecting our leaders. To the American voters, I offer this advice: Be as shrewd and ruthless in your demands on our leaders as the wizards running campaigns are in their strategies to get your vote. Do your part to send to Washington people who truly want to solve the problems of this country from the bottom up.

You won't regret it. You will benefit from it. And the stakes could not be higher. Sometimes the business of politics seems silly. It can also be infuriating. But you must stay in the game, because you and your grandchildren will be the inheritors of both our successes and flaws.

Jim Webb (D.) is a U.S. Senator from Virginia. Adapted from, A Time to Fight by Jim Webb (Broadway Books, 2008).

Subject: Memorial Day Approacheth
Wednesday, May 21, 2008 6:52 AM

Leaving the saloon a few minutes ago, on my way home, where you can never go again, I saw a Wassoon Jabberwocky, glocking about, silhouetted against the blood red sunset. This was unusual because it was 1:45 AM you see, and these creatures don't usually brack til later in th morn.

Averting my eyes I made th Sign of th Grogan and tho, alone, recited th Ave Madrigal, which as you know, is The Custom.

I couldn't help but wonder if this was an omen that the Mystery of the Great Egg might finally be revealed? Who can say for sure for all that is demanded? We only know that the Celestial Entities are not to be denied. For sooth, you do not Deny, do you?

What about you boyz n gurlz? Have any of the Emissaries approached you? Is the Time of the Luden now upon us? Has The Mead of Joy been brewed and the Foods of Welcome been prepared? Pray, do not forget the Blessed Wiener!

th cap'm

P.S. The Winds of Change are gusting and the McCannittes flee and the Hillaries and Billaries drop back into the gaping abyss of the Great Asshole from which they emerged. (and by the way, when offered, just say NO!!!)

Subject: Encounter With A Rude Bicyclist. So What's New, eh?
Monday, May 19, 2008 9:20 PM

Earlier today, I was stopped at a red light in th right lane, when this bicyclist pulled up along side me in th left lane. I found this annoyin, but I thought mebbe he was gonna turn left. He was dressed in th regular, fashionable bicyclist ensemble, y'know, th color co-ordinated outfit, with th bright bicycle helmet and th headphones, but he was also wearin a brightly colored orange vest, like a hi-way crew might wear. Obviously he was a safety minded biker, intent on making his presence known, and his bicycle/vehicle was also equipped with two rear view mirrors and all th other bells and whistles a vehicle driven on public streets oughta have.

Hey yo, I was impressed! Until that is....when he looked to th right...then th left....and determinin th coast was clear and no traffic was approachin, he pedaled right on thru th red light!!! Well, what th hell, he was on a bicycle, and those pesky traffic regulations about stoppin at red lights didn't apply to him, so why should he wait around fer th light to change?

Now, I was reely annoyed. I had been prepared to make a right turn myself, but I felt as a citizen it was my duty to inform him of his gaffe, so instead of turnin, when th light finally changed, I went straight instead and caught up to him, which was easy cuz he was wobblin along doin about 7-10 mph, still in th left lane. I think he mighta been pedalin while intoxicated. I had to pass him in th right lane, and seein what a safety minded person he was, I thought it only proper to put my window down and remind im,


Well gee boyz n gurlz, I wasn't prepared fer th obscene language he hurled towards me. He was deeply offended that I had had th audacity to point out his blatant disregard fer th Law! He said some more nasty things to me, which circumspection prevents me from repeatin here, but it was vile language, I assure ya. What a potty mouth!

Well, not bein th juvenile type to engage in this kinda boorish, childish behavior, and havin places to go and peoples to see, I ignored his invective and slowly passed and pulled on around him to get directly in front of him.

Without meanin to, of course, as I pulled in front of im, I almost knocked him right off his two-wheeled "vehicle", altho in fact, I didn't actually touch him. He over re-acted in dramatic fashion. It was worth a nomination at least. Since he was drivin along at 8 mph I slowed down to about 5. Regainin control he pedaled furiously and tried to pull along side my window I guess, but I cut him off at th pass. So then, this insane idiot, who was frothing at th mouth by now, his face a bright red, spittle spewin out, was right behind me screamin and makin obscene gestures at me.

And then...... I accidentally stomped on th brakes, and becus he was followin too close at an unsafe distance, he almost ran into my rear end. Oooops! Scuuuuse me.

I then accelerated away, but as I thought about it, I decided th best course of action would be to open a dialogue with him, y'know, to try and straighten up and reconcile any differences we might have. As ya know, I firmly believe much can be accomplished thru negotiations. So, I stopped and waited fer him to approach.

But, he stopped too about 100 feet behind. He wouldn't engage me and wasn't willin to negotiate. Instead he made a big show of pullin his cell phone out and no doubt was cryin to his momma bout another rude motorist.

So, tirin of this child's play, I pulled off again to go about my business, but caught a red light at th next intersection. Figurin this would give us a good chance to communicate and become better acquainted, and to put this mis-understanding behind us, I patiently waited fer him to pull along side, even tho th light had changed to green. Instead, he made a U-turn there, still whinin on his cell phone, and went back th other way!

Jeeze, what's with these foul mouthed bicyclists and their attitudes any way? It's gotten to th point where th motorist can't even drive leisurely down th street, with out bein aurally assaulted by one of these thugs!

th cap'm

P.S. Can ya believe they've passed laws to let loons like this carry concealed weapons??? So, when I got back to th crib, I put my camoflage netting over th car in case he decided to hunt me down in a helicopter or somthin.

Subject: Countdown with Keith Olberman
Sunday, May 18, 2008 3:10 PM

I love this show and this guy. I like Olberman th way th guys in th other camp like O'Reilly, Hannity and Limbaugh and th rest of those cretins, like, any one on Fox News. Fox News. Sounds oxymoronic to me.

OK, so, did'ja happen to see Countdown this past Wednesday nite? On man, I love it when he gets down on George Bush. Whew! There's no one who expresses my disgust and revulsion of Bush and his Administration more eloquently, yet more vehemently than he does! Among other things, he went off on Bush over his ridiculous assertion that he gave up golf to show solidarity with those families who had sacrificed loved one's in Iraq. They gave up sons, daughters, wives, husbands, etc. He gave up golf!! I'm sure that made their burdens a bit easier knowin th Commander In Chief was makin sacrifices too, eh. Sheeit! I can't help but wonder what world that fuckin idiot lives in? I think some one oughta take his favorite driver, since he doesn't use it any more, and drive it right up his ass!! Hey...we can dream, can't we!?

But, back to Keith. My only complaint with Keith is; I jus wish he would stop usin th phrase, "to throw some one under the bus." I don't think I've seen an episode where he doesn't say it at least once. I really hate cliches like that and his guests all use it too. C'mon, Godammit Keith, KNOCK IT OFF, OK!!

th cap'm

P.S. Every time I get to rantin about somthin and some one tells me to chill, to just stop and "go with th flow", I gotta remind em, that even turds go with th flow. I don't wanna be jus another turd floatin down th river! knowhutahmsayin!

Subject: Dame Fortuna Rains On Hillary's Parade
Wednesday, May 14, 2008 7:34 PM

Hillary Wins Big In W. Virginia! ho-hum Th celebration was short-lived tho cus she didn't even have time to bask in her overwhelmin, but completely irrelevant victory in W. Virginia before John Edwards endorsement of Obama knocked her right off th front page to a mere footnote in th day's news.

Oh, ya know there is much pullin of hair, gnashin of teeth and shakin of fists at th heavens in th Hillary camp tonite.

th cap'm

Subject: God Moves In Mysterious Ways
Wednesday, May 14, 2008 5:15 PM

Ya'know that nut-ball quack pastor who recently endorsed John McCain? I can't remember his name, but y'know, th one who said Katrina was God's Wrath on th peoples of New Orleans fer plannin on havin a gay rights parade?

Whew, if thas true, wow, ya gotta wonder what those peoples in Myanmar had planned, huh?

th cap'm

Subject: Th Kitchen Gods Must Be Angry Again
Wednesday, May 14, 2008 5:02 PM

In th last two weeks I have accidentally dropped large heavy knives to th floor, barely missin my toe appendages. This has happened four or five times now; any one of which could have been annoyin, not to mention rather painful. I suppose now I'm gonna havta buy myself some steel-toed boots to go along with my kevlar vest and riot helmet when I enter th kitchen/lab area.

What th hail is goin on here? Sheeit, years ago I didn't have to go thru all this kinda hassle jus to make a sandwich! But th near-slicin wasn't th worst part of today's foods preparation crisis. Nope! It was th usual, of course; th pesky stove-top grease fire. Damn, but that gets irritating. It happens all th time and I'm reely gettin tired of it. When it first erupted my initial thinkin was,

"Darn, I wish I had some marshmallows!"

But as I calmly watched it blossom and grow I got to thinkin, mebbe instead of fantasizin bout roasted marshmallows, I mebbe oughta do somthin bout th blaze before it spread to th rest of th neighborhood.

My fool proof solution fer these kinda things used to be to smother it in a cloud of flour, but I read somewhere that one should NEVER do that. That it can be very explosive. It makes sense tho, like, if yer hangin down inside a grain silo boyz n gurlz and workin there, ya don't wanna light up yer cigarette jus then. Cuz, y'know, like....KA-BOOM!! I guess I was jus lucky those other times, eh?!

So, to be on th safe side, this time I employed a new technique I was jus hipped to recently. One employs a wet towel to smother th flames with, rather than a cloud of flour. While it worked, I gotta tell ya, it's not xactly fool proof tho! That damned thing jus didn't wanna go out. I was beginning to wonder if maybe it wasn't time to call in th Pros. But, finally, I prevailed! Now th crib reeks of that burnt smoky odor tho, y'know th smell I'm talkin bout. It's hard to get rid of.

This whole episode tho has got me re-evaluatin my strategy of home foods preparations. It seems like an awful lotta trouble jus to fry up some ground beef, eh? Mebbe I jus oughta let th youngsters at Burger King risk their lives and limbs fixin my foods! They're younger and more resilient than me and can recuperate faster. Hey, if ya know anybody whose thinkin bout doin some home cookin, I have all th necessary stuff they'll need to survive, and I'll let th whole outfit go fer a reasonable price. Lemme know.

th cap'm

Subject: Summer Surge. Was It Successful?
Sunday, May 11, 2008 2:27 PM

OK, ya'll, thinkin my wardrobe might not be sufficient to meet my summer sartorial demands, I visited my favorite thrift store, Major Thrift at Mission Rd. and County Line Rd. (47th), to surge my supplies.

I copped two reely nice sports coats, (one formerly from Wolffe Bros.) two long sleeve dress shirts, and one casual short sleeve shirt, plus a pair of slacks, all fer $18.30!!

So, th answer to th question is, obviously, a big resounding, "Fuck yes!!" Let's see if th Chinese can beat that at Walmart!

th cap'm

Subject: I Met My Match! And Then Some!!
Friday, May 9, 2008 3:35 PM

Last nite, sittin there in th tavern, a friend came in, and introduced me to his friend. A black man. Nicely dressed, friendly, polite, soft spoken, close cropped gray hair, about 55-60 years old. Becus we were close in age we were rappin bout KC 30-35 years ago, before any of these other young peoples were even born, and what it was like then. We talked bars and landmarks, and neighborhoods and times that don't exist any more.

Soon, we wearer tradin stories bout th shit we'd seen and experienced in our lives. A couple things he told me about confused me a bit, cuz I didn't think he was old enuff to reely know bout em, but I didn't challenge him on them. Old geezer courtesy, y'know. But it was reely enjoyable to rap with some one my own age, cuz most of my friends, at least th one's I see regularly, are all in their 20's and early 30's.

In any case, at one point we were talkin about th Depression, which bein born in '41 was before my time, and I figured before his too, but he was tellin me that he didn't know how bad it was then, cus it was bad for everybody else too, and it was jus Life. Thas th way it was fer everybody.

So, finally, I had to ask him how old he was? Th dude turned out to be 90 FUCKIN YEARS OLD!!! I jus bout fell off my stool. It was unbelievable! If ya met th guy and he told ya he was 50, ya wouldn't bat an eye. When I found out how old he was... he was kiddin with me callin me a "young pup". lol Well, what th hell, th dude is 24 years older than me!

Bein 66, I'm almost always th oldest dude in th joint. I sometimes forget and mention peoples and events, assumin th peoples I'm talkin to know what I'm talkin bout, til they remind me that happened ten years before they were born. But here was a guy who knew exactly what it was like when they had separate rest rooms, drinking fountains, etc, fer black peoples. He knew it very well, first hand. Here was a guy who had lived in th Jim Crow South, who had lived thru th Depression and known extreme poverty, who knew what it was like to travel all th way cross th country on a bus, and every godam thing else.

I gotta find out more about this guy. Last nite was th first time he'd been in th place, and when he left at closin time, he said he liked talkin with me and he'd be back. I told im he better cuz there were plenty more layers of this onion to be peeled back yet.

Y'know, I often have younger peoples come up to me and wanna rap, cuz as they see it, to their way of thinkin, I shoulda been in bed hours ago, and yet I'm in this joint every nite, drinkin and gettin fucked up. So, they wanna know about you and treat ya like some kinda guru. (this helps explain where I get my Guru-Complex from? Ha ha)

I felt this same fascination with this black man, Cole. I mean, it's 1:30 in th morn, closin time, and he's out drinkin and he's 90 years old!! I wanna be sittin on a bar stool when I'm 90 rappin with some young dude in his mid-60's, tellin im what it is. lol It's inspiring. (different peoples have different goals ya'know! haha) I gotta find out more bout this guy.

th cap'm

Subject: Be Careful What You Pray For
Friday, May 9, 2008 2:26 PM

OK, ya'll, I jus wanna suggest ya be careful, cus right now, Th Big Guy is in a foul mood and he doesn't reely appreciate frivolous appeals, like,

"Oh pleeeze God, make him strike out. I got ten bucks on this game."
or mebbe,

"Oh God, as ya know, I'm gettin married next weekend, and we're havin th ceremony outdoors, so pleeze don't let it rain. OK. It would reely be inconvenient."

And so on. To further illustrate my point, a bunch of peoples in Myanmar (formerly Burma?) had been prayin fer a good rice crop this year, since they've been starvin! He sent em a Cyclone instead killing one-hundred thousand of em. They don't hav'ta worry bout starvin no more.

So, if I was you, I'd hold off for a while, until his mood lightens. Jus a suggestion. It's yer choice of course, but before issuin yer pleas, stop and think........ and remember Wyanmar!

th cap'm

Subject: RE: Yesterday's Primary Results in N. Carolina And Indiana
Wednesday, May 7, 2008 2:57 PM

Hillary sez,

"Full speed ahead to the White House!"

Ha ha What a fuckin joke!! Is this egomaniacal woman completely delusional? Is she expecting a miracle? Is this act of failing to recognize reality, and trying to pass it off as toughness playing with anybody?

What in th hell is her real agenda? Her and Bill's classless, phony actions of th last year are dithpicable. I would vote fer Daffy Duck first. He only hath a small spheech impediment, whereath Hillary hath a Brain impediment. Who would You truth?

th cap'm

Subject: Th Cap't, Th Seer, Has Some Bad News!
Wednesday, May 7, 2008 2:36 PM

OK, ya'll, I'm forced to remove my rose-tinted glasses and be brutally candid with ya. After readin th tea leaves, th cat entrails, th coffee grounds, observin various animal behaviors, consultin th oracle, goin into trance and recitin th incantations, accordin to th vibes, th future doesn't look good!

Here's what I'm gettin. Barack Obama wins th Presidency handily. He ushers in a new age of Sanity in politics. Peoples have Hope again. In his first year in office, while beginnin to withdraw troops from Iraq, he simultaneously is workin on a real peace initiative between th Israelis and th Palestinians. It appears that they have a concrete agreement. This defuses much of th antipathy among th Islamic world vis a vis th United States. There is a dialogue between th US, Iran, and N. Korea. Th economy is slowly starting to recover after eight years of Bush/Big Business exploitation. There is an air of Optimism in th country. Peoples believe that th Future holds promise. Once again, they believe they will leave their children a better world.

And then.... one day.....Tragedy strikes!!

President Obama is assassinated!!

By a white racist thug, who surrenders himself and declares he did it for th Supremacy of th White Race. He crows and gloats over his dithpicable act. Th country reels. Race riots break out every where. All over th country, big cities, small towns...everywhere! Th police are completely unable to control it, as they are vastly outnumbered, and th National Guard are unavailable too, as most are still in Iraq. Martial law is declared. Th US is forced to call on our NATO allies for help. Polish and German troops patrol th streets and engage in gun battles with th insurgents. Th entire country is plunged into chaos as th long simmerin racial problems finally emerge in a tsunami of violence.

Th stock market collapses completely. There is no stock market any more. Millions of peoples are wiped out. Auto manufacturers shut down. Walmart closes! Rail lines are cut. Trucks are hijacked and food distribution halts. Air traffic comes to a halt.

Finally, in an effort to save what is left, Congress sells th country to th Chinese in a yard sale. We all go to work in th mines.

On th other hand, I could be wrong, cuz as ya know, predictin th Future can be a tricky business, and we can't always rely on th signs. But.... it might be a good idea to stock up on a few cans of tuna and some crackers, eh, jus in case?!

th cap'm

P.S. Mebbe John McCain will win and we can jus continue our steady decline into obscurity and oblivion, usin th Bush template. At least our demise will take longer.

Subject: ALL CLEAR! Let's move along people. There's nothing more to see here!
Saturday, May 3, 2008 4:13 PM

Ok, I jus wanted to sound th ALL CLEAR signal! Today th sun is shining and everything is right with th world. I feel so much better bout th future of our country and our Way of Life.

What is th catalyst fer this new-found optimism, y'ask? Well, see, like, last nite I was on my way to th saloon, as usual, taking my regular route thru what I have come to consider th Forbidden Zone becauz of my sightings of th Big Black Chicken who resides there. And, I saw it again last nite! Same time roughly, same intersection. But this time, instead of darting right across my path, it paused there on th corner, and I got a better than th fleeting glimpse of th last two times. I could see it clearly this time and it was with a sense of relief, and joy, co-mingled with embarrassment. Cuz it wasn't a Big Black Chicken after all!!!

Nope! It was jus an elderly, scrawny lady jogger in her black leotards, and white runnin shoes, with her hair piled high up on top. I didn't know whether to curse at her in anger fer th mental anguish she had put me thru fer th last several weeks, or to thank her fer jus bein a frightening lookin old lady. Instead, I did neither, but jus continued my journey, chortlin and laffin with a lighter heart and a different outlook on Life. Oh mercy, an old lady!!

But anyway, I would like to apologize to those of you who I may have frightened myself, with my obviously pre-mature warnings of Death and Disaster.

Everything's gonna be OK! Life is gonna go on! It was all jus a mis-understanding. It is no longer necessary to remain in yer shelters after dark now. All clear! All clear! Sorry fer any inconvenience I may have caused ya. Hehe My eyes and my mind sometimes play tricks on me.

But in my own defense, I was somewhat stoned outta my mind, y'know, and in that kinda situation, it's easy to mistake an old lady jogger with th Big Black Chicken! Y'can see how that could happen, can't ya!? I'm sure prolly lotsa other peoples have made this same mistake, eh? One of mistaken identity! But at least, no one went to prison.

Well, anyway, we can now put th legend of th BBC to rest, along with Bigfoot, th Loch Ness Monster, and crop circles. Now, that don't mean we can dismiss th UFO's and th Mongolian Death Worm of course, which are real! But, it is jus one less thing to worry about.

th cap'm

P.S. While I am relieved to discover I am now no longer under th Wasoon/Dolan Curse, I still can't escape this unsettlin feelin that everything's not as rosy as one might think. Like, fr'instance, jus who is this old lady? What is her agenda? Who arranged it so that her runnin schezhule intersected with my drinkin schezhule? Three times at th same place? Is she CIA? What is their interest in me? Who else is involved? What's th word on th bricks? I don't guess I have to tell ya do I, who is th main target of my suspicions? I'm only gonna tell ya their initials: RMN.

Subject: Th Horror Continues; Th Big Black Chicken, Part Two.
Thursday, May 1, 2008 1:09 PM

OK, ya'll, sit down, cus this is shocking and astounding and I know I'm stretchin th limits of credibility here, but dammit, it happened again!!

Last nite, as I was makin my way to th saloon and I was drivin thru th UMKC campus, I got to thinkin bout th Big Black Chicken sighting I told ya about a couple weeks ago and as I was approachin that very same exact intersection, I slowed down and looked to my right from where it had emerged. Nada! Seein th coast was clear, I turned my attention back to business. And then I saw it again! It came scratchin across th street from outta nowhere goin in th opposite direction from my last sighting, this time goin from north to south. I gasped! Chills went up my spine as th hair on th back of my neck leapt skyward. I shuddered at th implications.

Ten Thousand Curses! Our paths crossed in th nite again at th same fookin place! ! Mere co-incidence? Fate? I dun't think so. There's somthin more sinister goin on here. I have yet to talk to another person whose ever even seen this apparition, yet I've seen it twice in th last two weeks!

Now back in th olden days, to see th Big Black Chicken was a Reely Bad Omen! It was worse than a comet, cuz, y'know, like, a comet always portended ill fortune. Remember what happened in 1066? But, sheeit, twas nothin compared to th BBC. To have one actually cross one's path was th Kiss of Death. Some peoples felt so strongly about their impendin Doom, they simply crawled off into th bushes and died. All with th consent of th tribe, hopin that there wouldn't be any collateral contamination among themselves.

So here we are now, in th Third Millennium, and this Harbinger of Doom has crossed my path, TWICE. And tho peoples claim not to know anything bout this dark legend, I'm thinkin their response might be one of plain Denial, y'knowwhutahmean. Maybe th BBC is a Jungian arche-type which we all collectively share, but simply refuse to acknowledge.

In any case, I have noticed that since I first mentioned my initial encounter, peoples seem to be shunnin my company. I find that as I approach groups of peoples, there is some head-huddlin and whisperin and then th group breaks up and spreads out in different directions. And if I attempt to follow one of em to try and chat, I see their pace quicken, and pretty soon I'm runnin as fast as I can, yellin at their backs,

"Shane! Shane! Come back. I jus wanna chat!"

And when they reach their car, they leap in and screech off down th street, slip-slidin from side to side in a cloud of burnin rubber, leavin me standin there forlornly in th brisk nite air, smoke driftin away, wonderin why I can't be popular?

I'm starin to get th impression that peoples are tryin to avoid me. Sheeeit, th damned curse is not contagious, I mean, it's not like ya can catch it off a toilet seat or somthin. I dunno. I'm confused. Or else, mebbe I've jus developed some bad hygiene habits, but heck, I have, jus as a reminder, on th wall right directly across from th commode itself,

R. Crumb poster of Tommy Toilet who sez,

"Don't ferget to wipe, folks."

and there's a cartoon of a guy walkin with fumes emanatin from his butt and two gurls, holdin their noses are sayin,

"Ewww, he doesn't wipe!"

But, thas not me, darn it.

And this on top of my issues with th BBC. As if I din't already have enuff on my plate to deal with? To be ostracized like this. wah wah wah. It jus ain't fair. Doom is loomin, and jus like everything else, I gotta face it solo. Sigh!

th cap'm

Subject: Headline On My Home Page
Wednesday, April 30, 2008 3:23 PM

"Troop Deaths In Iraq Hit Seven Month High"

I guess this is what John McCain calls "Progress", eh? 100 more years!!! I guess this means th increased troop levels are having a positive effect? Or not?

And if you are confused by that term, "increased troop levels", that is a euphemism I employ to describe what is known by th Administration as the "surge". But note, not only by th Administration, but by everybody else too. It amazes me how this term, "surge" has been picked up by every single news source everywhere to describe sendin more troops to Iraq? What in th fuck is wrong with everybody? No one ever said,

"Hey wait a minute! What is this "surge" shit? Why don't ya just call it what it is; an increase in troop levels?"

But, no way Jose! Obviously th 'spinners' felt that a "surge" sounded more palatable to th dumb fuck Amerikan public, than to talk about havin to increase th number of troops there. I'll bet if you asked a lotta peoples if they thought th increased troop levels in Iraq had made any difference, they wouldn't have any idea what you were talkin about.

"What increased troop levels? Nah, I wouldn't support sendin any more troops over there! What? Oh..... you mean the surge? Well why didn't ya jus say that in th first place? Sure, I'm all fer th surge!"

And every one, includin our vaunted, much ballyhooed free press went along with them. They gotta still be gigglin bout that PR coup. I'll bet when those bastards get together and some one sez somthin bout th surge, they all start guffawin and snickerin still!

"Whew! Oh man, that was a good one wasn't it?! They bought it hook, line, and sinker! har har"

And so, five years we are still; a quagmire in a desert?! Damn, I wish I could wake up outta this nightmare!!!

th cap'm

P.S. In case ya missed The Leader's press conference, he sez times are tuff right now. Jus in case ya missed that. Yeah, I know, I know, he's been tellin us fer a long time now that th economy was good, but Joe Lieberman whispered in his ear th other day and he's refined his posiion somewhat. Jus in case ya missed that. He noted that gas prices are up. No shit, reely! And some peoples are losin their homes. Fortunately fer us, th government is givin th mortage rackets 200 billion dollars to help em out, so... thas good news, eh!

Subject: I Was Thinkin
Monday, April 28, 2008 2:01 AM

Don't waterboard Aunt Susie for her secret chocolate-chip cookie recipe. It's rude and impolite, and besides it's none of yer business! Don't be so nosy.

Try Curley's Hot n' Spicy BBQ sauce outta Hutchison, Kansas. It's hot ‘n spicy and "muy delicioso tambien". (Español, en Engles: "very delicious too")

Don't share yer crochet needles with other meth heads. It's unsanitary and painful.

Don't wear yer gray felt hat in th rain!

Always wear yer hats with th brim turned down, 360 degrees around. You'll look and feel much better.

Milk price at Price Chopper; skim 3.69@gallon Costco; 2.79 @gallon

While I hate tired, worn-out cliches and hate to use em, remember this one,

"Avoid AIDs like th Plague!"

Never back an enraged cow into a corner! Mooo!

Th same holds true with a cock-a doodle doo!

Avoid prostate cancer pills from th company called Uranus. (it's a real company)

It's a tacky company name fer a serious medical problem.

Do not attempt to operate yer vehicle with yer phone in yer right hand, yer Big Mac in th other, and steerin with yer knees. It's extremely difficult to maneuver yerself outta a jam! And it's jus Stupid!

Don't ride yer bicycle on th public streets. Jus stay in yer sandbox where ya belong!

If ya choose not to smoke; Fine! But don't expect applause and a pat on th back and stop jumpin up and down screamin, "Me! Me! Me!" It's unseemly and undignified.

If ya absolutely Must run, walk, jog, whatever, do it down th center lane of th interstate and don't you worry bout th traffic, cuz as a pedestrian you have th right of way.

Brown rice is not only more nutritional, but it tastes better too.

Why izzit that all cute little gurls between th ages of 4 and 7 in th movies or TV shows have th nickname "punkin"? I mean, are there really that many punkins out there? Do you call yer daughter, "punkin"? Can't some highly paid writer come up with some other cutesy name? Isn't it bout time we broke th "punkin mold"? I assume thas a diminutive of "pumpkin" so, like, why in th fuck would'ja named yer kid after some fruit any way?

Some peoples say th glass is half full; others say it's half empty. I say, "Big Fuckin Deal! Who gives a shit?"

Magick is dead in th World today! Th days of yore when magick roamed th land are gone forever. Today there is naught but Illusion! Thus explainin th absence of Merlin and his ilk, and th proliferation of th David Copperfield crowd.

How bout you boyz n gurlz, do ya'll ever think too? And, like, what do you think about?

th cap'm

Subject: Th Conspiracy Rolls On And Over Us!!
Friday, April 25, 2008 4:54 PM

Today, I came as close to runnin outta gas as ya possibly can, without actually doin so. In th past, fer many years I ran outta gas more times than ya would believe. One day, fr'instance, I ran outta gas three fookin times! In one day! No shit, I'm not jivin ya!!

But a few years ago, gettin fed up with that "outta gas scenario", and all th hassles it entails, I decided that, "From this day forward, I will run outta gas no more. forever!" (thanks Chief Joseph)

See, a lotta times this was caused by my gas gauge not workin. This is also true of my current ride, but becuz it's all computerized now, I don't wanna spend th five yards it will cost to fix it. What I do is: I fill th tank, and knowin I get 14 mpg, and knowin I got a twenty gallon tank, I know when th mileage reaches 270 miles, I'm almost outta gas, comprende cabron? (you understand sir?)

OK, so, like, today, I'm truckin on down th hi-way and I glance at th mileage and I'm at 288! Alarms and klaxons went off. WHOOT! WHOOT! WHOOT!

"Sheeit", I thought, "I shoulda already run outta gas at 280 miles. Damn, I'm runnin on empty! Curses!"

I knew I was in trouble cus I had left my fuckin phone at home and was soon gonna be stranded on th Interstate and I knew I was several miles from salvation, so I slowed down to get as far as I could, and after several tense minutes, as I finally made it to th turn-off, with a big sigh of relief, I pulled up to a pump, pretty pleased with havin avoided a reel bad day! (whew, pretty long sentence, eh)

Jus to show ya how close I was to bein empty, I proceeded to put 20.6 gallons in my 20 gallon tank! $68.00 fuckin dollars! This got me to scratchin my head in bewilderment, cus I ran outta gas in this same car about three years ago and it took 19.8 gallons then to fill it up.'d I squeeze 20.6 gallons in there this time?

I went back inside to get what was left of my hundred dollar bill and asked em how I could put in more than a half gallon of th tank's capacity? I got a ho-hum-who-knows-why-bother-me-with-this- kinda-shit-response, Ya know what I mean!? I pushed em further and they said th pump had been inspected recently. I asked em sarcastically how much they paid th dude off? No response! So I told em I was gonna file a complaint with th State Attorney General and was greeted with a smug, unconcerned grin and a, "Go ahead."

Well sure! See, they know, they ain't worried, fix is in! They're all in on it. Th State Inspector, Th State Atty. Gen, Th US Atty. General, Cheney/Bush/Nixon! All th fuckers are in on it. They all got a piece of th Gravy Train. They are all fleecin/gougin us, me and you, th Amerikan public, all of us are gettin shafted every single day by Big Oil and their underlings. They run this scam. And we're all their marks! Those fuckers are already obscenely wealthy; they couldn't spend all their money in three lifetimes of wild's not enuff!!! What conspiracy, ya ask?

It's very annoyin!

th cap'm

P.S. By th way, did'ja see on th news last week where th head of th biggest hedge fund made, get this, THREE BILLION, SEVEN HUNDRED MILLION DOLLARS last year! IN ONE FUCKIN YEAR!! I'm tellin ya, there's somthin seriously wrong with a System where one individual can make that much money in one year, and there are peoples sleepin under bridges, where 40 million Amerikans, including my self, don't have health care, where th infra-structure of this country is fallin apart, bridges collapsin, education system underfunded, millions of peoples losin their homes, and this fucker made 3.7 billion dollars!!! And pleeeeze, don't tell me he earned it. And pleeese don't tell me he deserved it!!!!!!

Subject: Staying Au Courant In A Changing Amerika
Thursday, April 24, 2008 9:33 PM

Yo friends, Amerikans, countrymen, listen up! In th future I plan on droppin certain non-english expressions on ya, mostly Español, in my effort to prepare ya fer th changin Amerikan landscape.

Like today, fr'instance. I'm introducin ya to th phrase.

"Chinga tu madre!"

Translation: "Say hello to your mother!"

If ya should find yerself travelin in th Southern Hemisphere, this is always a good ice breaker when first meetin th locals, cuz th Hispanic peoples there are always pleased that you would inquire about their familes. It's a cultural thing. You will be warmly embraced and welcomed and prolly invited into their casa, fer a nice warm cup of coffee.

My next phrase for today is somthin you might say, upon meeting a gurl fer th first time,

"Buenos Chalupas!"

Which means, roughly translated,

"You are very comely!"

This will endear you instantly, becuz Latina gurls like to be complimented. Upon takin your leave, ya might say,

"Bessa mi caca, puta!"

Translation: "It was my pleasure, Miss." next time you are nonchalantly crusin thru th barrio, ya might lean out yer window and practice these on some young females ya see, especially if they're with their brother or boyfriend, as they also like for their ladies to be recognized as such. They get vicarious pleasure in knowin that ya appreciate Latina Beauty when ya see it.

So...until then...Huevos Noches!

El Capitano del Hoohah

Subject: Th Cap'm Executes Another Culinary Coup. Is there No End To His Genius
Wednesday, April 23, 2008 4:58 AM

Ok, so last nite, or rather, a short time ago, if ya wanna get technical, I had worked up a healthy appetite after an evening of vigorous and continuous elbow bending. Against my better instincts, I decided to fix myself some early mornin grub. I didn't take this decision lightly, cuz as ya may recall, many of these kinda adventures have had some rather unpleasant consequences, i.e. explosions, fires, spillages, sliced appendages and so on. But I'm happy to report, none of these things occurred. However these incidents do happen.

Take FIRE, fr'example, while it can be a Good thing in th hands of responsible and safety minded individuals; on th other hand, it can be dangerous and deadly even, in th hands of nitwits, loons, th Irresponsible, and th Immature. If ya don't believe me, give th kiddies a box of matches to play with while ya go to pick up yer pizza. Haha Ya'll be in fer a Surprise when ya get home.

But, everything went smoothly this time. I was able to pull off this entire enterprise without so much of a glitch of any kind, and I gotta admit, I'm pretty gol-darned fuckin pleased with myself at th moment. There'll be no unpleasant consequences to deal with when I awake, like, walls to be repaired, floors to be mopped, appliances to be replaced, stitches to bind up my wounds, or any of th other problems I so often encounter after one of these efforts.

Aw'right, so enuff self-congratulations; let's get down to it, shall we! What I did was; I first fried up some ground beef and seasoned it with equal parts of, 1/3 salt, 1/3 pepper, 1/3 garlic salt, and 1/3 chilli powder. (please don't get all mathematical nit-picky on me here)

Then I filled a plate with some lightly salted tortilla strips, and sprinkled my ground beef over that. Then sprinkled some chopped onions over that. Then I placed several round slices of a MonterreyJack/Colby combo over it all and put a thin layer of Pace's Hot Picante sauce on that. A few more tortilla strips and then some sharp cheddar cheese and some more onions. Next, I placed it in my Radar Range and zapped it fer approx 45-50 secs.

And fer th final stage, I put a large dollop of sour cream right in th center, another dollop of guacamole on top of that, and lastly, a glop of Mango salsa, and then spread it all around over th melted cheeses.

"Oh, th Delight of th melded flavors!!"

I exclaimed out loud at one point in near rapture.

Th crunchiness of th tortilla strips and onions, contrastin with th gooey mushiness of th melted cheeses, capped with th combined flavors of th sauces, caused me to become The Glutton! I consumed it like a starving pig. I noticed I was even makin porcine gruntin noises as I chomped my way thru it. I scarfed it up, in th truest sense of th word. This afternoon, when th sun comes creepin thru my windows, wakin me up, hopefully I will remember that there is still some left in th ice box.

OK now, boyz and gurlz, th next time ya have some of yer classmates over after school, get em reel stoned first on some prime herb, cuz that'll perk up their taste buds, then lay some of th Cap'ms Delight on em. They will long, and fondly remember that day. Durin yer 40 year re-unions, they will be bringin it up still, cuz ya will have etched a place in their minds that th decades won't erase.

th cap'm

Subject: Th More Th Oaffish; Th Harder Th Fall
Tuesday, April 22, 2008 3:41 PM

A friend told me a bit earlier that he was vistin an elderly lady and he was sittin in a hard back wooden chair facin her. My friend said he got up momentarily to point somthin out to her in th newspaper, and when he went to sit back down, he missed th chair and toppled over backwards, bonkin his head on a table and scrunchin his back! Ha ha.

How, pray tell could one be such a bumblin fool? He was a bit dazed there fer a second, while he tried to figure out jus what had happened, cuz, like, one moment he was standin there; th next he was on th floor with a bump on th back of his head. Th elderly lady, stiflin a giggle, tryin not to laugh, but not succeeding, asked if he was OK? He finally stood up and looked at th chair fer a moment, tryin to figure out how he'd missed it, or, if it had somehow moved on him of it's own accord. He mumbled somthin or other bout, "tha fkin nixon"

My friend said he wanted to pull a Hillary on th chair, but in deference to th lady, he desisted cuz he thought that kinda conduct might make her uncomfortable.

Course, nothin like that has ever happened to me! I mean, like, that was a friend of mine. Oh, sure, I've tumbled off many a barstool, sofa, bed, porch, patio, steps, ladders, roofs, etc, etc, BUT I had an excuse! I was drunk/stoned!

He, on th other hand, had had nary a drink nor a toke to blame it on. Whut a klutz, eh!?

Now, by yer leave, I am in need of some aspirin cuz I gotta bad headache and backache from outta nowhere?


P.S. How bout you boyz n gurlz? Ya've prolly done somthin similar to that before too, haven't ya? I mean, I'm sure my friend isn't th only one thas ever happened to before, is he?! Like, I'm sure that happens to regular peoples alla time, huh?! I know it does.


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