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
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!!!?
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
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.
NO PARKING 6AM--6PM
MONDAY THRU FRIDAY
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,
"PARKING IN A RESTRICTED ZONE"
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.
"Sir, I told you court was adjourned!"
"Yes, I know, but your honor, no one ever called my name."
"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
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
TH FUCKIN ASSHOLE BASTARD MUTHERFUCKERS!!!!
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!
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
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
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
"POWER TO TH MOTORISTS!
DOWN WITH THE INSECT DOG SCOOTERISTS"
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!
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,
SHUT TH FUCK UP and GO AWAY!!
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!!
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
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
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
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
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
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
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
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 www.kurcawatch.com.
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
(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
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,"¼ 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."¼
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."¼
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"¼
medevacs when landing zones were calm and all Marines had been taken
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,"¼ he answered, clearly exasperated. "Then
you watch him die."¼
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
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
Jim Webb (D.) is a U.S. Senator from Virginia. Adapted from, A
Time to Fight by Jim Webb (Broadway Books, 2008).
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!
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!!!)
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,
"HEY YA STUPID FUCKIN ASSHOLE. YA JUS RAN RIGHT THRU A RED LIGHT,
YA DUMB FUCKHEAD!"
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
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
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
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!!
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!
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.
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 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.
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!
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
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.
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
"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!
RE: Yesterday's Primary Results in N. Carolina And Indiana
Wednesday, May 7, 2008 2:57 PM
"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'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
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?!
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.
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
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.
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:
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
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
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!
Headline On My Home
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
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 later...here we are still; a quagmire in a desert?!
Damn, I wish I could wake up outta this nightmare!!!
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!
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
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
"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
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 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
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
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!
"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. So...how'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, cuz...th 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 extravagance....BUT..it's
not enuff!!! What conspiracy, ya ask?
It's very annoyin!
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!!!!!!
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
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,
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."
So....th 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
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
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
"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 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
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.