azimuth and elevation

so now what, I'm on a fast track data link bouncing off a satellite with increased operating chutzpa but it's flaky and unlike a hard wire connection nevertheless processing speeds are better and it's just a matter of getting used to the quirks of reflected RF energy interfacing with the atmosphere, how quickly I forgot, and overcoming operator error.

it's the dish

it's coming to my neighborhood near me... at last a fast window. a high speed connection right around the corner on the roof tied in to the constellation overhead oh my freakin gawd we're gonna zoom now

airops: stuffing her face like a musket

I recall a leak in the overhead in the middle of the coop and evertime it rained or they hosed off the roof it would leak into the well placed shitcan that was always in the way and we complained and complained bitterly of course because we were sleeping under the wires and that's where airplanes crash and we weren't getting enough sleep as it was and it sucked and waahh! and they went waahh! waahh! waahh! and said so what and after many months of such nonsense a bird finally came down hard one night and clipping his un-jettisoned belly tank on a swell burst into flames as the aircrew punched in unison splashing over the side to be picked up by our tin can and surprisingly no deaths occurred as the wreckage slid aboard and after that the leak got fixed right away.

'tis the Season of the Ditch

and yep it's a belly flop a skidding to a halt a smackdown a wheels up feet wet entire tin bubble both engulfed and redeemed by the sheer power of immersion wrenching violence of 300 mph deafening silence at the end and the totality of it to the nth degree and everything that's what I'm talking about yep.

this is my brain on vacations

...as luck would have it, as of yesterday my deployed nephew's son that's less than a year old might not be his son after all and the rest is left to the imagination... why that cunting bitch...

...screeching sound of tires braking hard on hot pavement radios crackling...

A cruel twist in the saga yes very sad and needs a definitive test to determine the DNA source before we go all ape shit over it yes? and so we will or rather they will the parents I mean while we watch the proceedings from afar and sharpen our yoyo's in the meantime. Righto.

The both sides grandparents are struck dumb.

The family solar plexus is punched in and I'm getting an umbilical hernia from laughing too hard.

godammit...

frozen with salt

...whoever said retirement was all soft breezes and mojito's and not warm beer bad food and bladder infections on the beach was soft in the head because I'm busier now than when I was actually gasp! working for a living and I don't like the beach all that much anyway so I can live w/o that analogy but after a day of herding the momsurous through the maze I sometimes need a stiff concoction to balance the bilge and when tomorrow is scheduled for another UNREP hopefully it will rain and help lift the hides without a serious roll off roll up or otherwise and I'll pretend I'm at the beach for a minute more.

that high pitched whine...

that sad aire, that sad musyck and that fine futile brutality unmatched by despondency or despair renders my drained psyche to a dull pulped mass balanced as a bulb on a stem with sparkling eyelets on writhing stalks.

lost 2 old friends in the last several weeks- a cold reminder of the limited seating and high turn over in this awful swirl of electrons, radiation belts and undulating fields of bewildering negative buoyancy at the edge of the event horizon...

life is runway #9 left & tally ho for cross chop twosevenzero at 20...

as the universe curves away from human notions of God and those Motes in the Eye things and Intelligent Design delusions and follows its tail to the Other Side of this infernal infinity sneezing another white dwarf here and coughing up more incubating star nurseries there and zipping merrily somewhere else along the way

...and in the darkness behold the vast chamber of magic light speeding away and know it will be back... at you... on the flip side

then we be gone.

42

guerrillas in the mist

"Okay boys fuckin' revolution is over!" read the leaflets that floated down through the triple canopy humidity scattering amongst the dead fall everywhere 'till Tuesday landing lightly on my brow before then but only slightly. "That was so yesterday so today throw down your velvet muskets your damn denim sabers and your tin-foil hats for we're headed home to the land of bilk and money b'god! Huzzah! Huzzah!.." it continued on into the night but that was all it was: it sounded good to me and I went to sleep early to prove it. zzzzzzzzz...

All's swell that ends well I always sway.

Huzzah! exactly


Keep your powder dry and your balls at the ready troopers and don't shoot 'til you see the soft whites of their underbelly on the Plain of Jars or is it the soft white of their underbellies on the Pain of Mars? i forget

Schlock and Caw:
Palin reveals she was dropped on her head as a child.
Everybody yawns.
Frozen tundra fed Alaska blacked-out in the Land of the Midnight Sun and is still scratching it's collective head wondering along with fermented corn-fed Illinois who's still swishing and cringing as Rod Blogovithair spins yet another yarn kicking and screaming his way out the back door.

Who let these people in here anyway, Space Invaders from Space?
Fuck!
Who then took over for awhile and left?
Fuck!
Was W an alien life form?
Fuck!

What The Fuck?

I don't know but the troops are dying still, the debt is in the trillions and I'm losing faith in the system like I had any to lose to begin with and for all his statesmanship and dignity and Firstness, is Ears going to be able to pull off the biggest comeback in the history of like forever and make US feel good again or will he allow The Screecher to make a run for his pants in 2012 and appall the rest of us with her bloom & doom and heavy breathing?

I wonder...
I stutter...
I shudder...

oh fuck

...and now from the Why Didn't I Think of That? Department...

"Pompeii is also an acronym for sentient death in it's most tormented form."

...a fucking brilliant observation methinks.

bwaahhhaahhhaahaaaahhhaaaaaaa

it's a hundrednhell out

how hot fucking hot so hot it's too hot to be fucking hotter hot is how hot

molecules that are hot

...this shit is driving me fucking crazy because it's 105 outside can't go anywhere or leave the truck in the light shade is sparse air like a blast of jet exhaust w/o the fuel particles unless you count the ozone layer sinking low over the furniture on the curb...

still life

... and they say it's all mental but i have my doubts what with the technology and all available today and it seems you don't have to be there to make it so so going there is like the next best thing to being there in command of pred-18 dirt dauber while caressing the ends of sensory limits like her inner thigh maybe wrapped in the clear warm waters off the grid more than 5 parsecs away and that's a long vast way away indeed. for example. stay tuned.

i would suppose that during the virtual speaking speed spool of delight there would be a pause for hydraulics to prime before the hut 2 buckle my shoe spin up shut in close out mark down drag out inventory tree 4 shut the door reduction ignition commenced without a twitch to distract the operator.

i mean you would think...

right?...

fasidi tuzdetu

So the worm turns and on and on we all go merrily along some fighting some kicking some screaming get along but we still all go merrily because the alternative is not so much one of those "failure is not an option" comments delivered and received under duress but one of those characters that stroll up in the dark bums a light and then takes your face comments that eats your guts keeps you up nights and it's coming from your own demonic brooding rhetorical apprehension and drifty wonderment self and that's just the weird part. (fuck...)

...world we live on is failing nuclear exchange is inevitable and madmen running amok will kill us all in the dark as well as in the light and... my Gawd! we're all gonna die and it's my parent's fault. noooooooooooooooooooo...

Had a good day today didn't fly into any rage anywhere and that shit is like everywhere hard to miss it's quiet mostly and will steal your youth right from under you like a cheap rug make you old while every day without rage is for the most part mostly perfect dessert for breakfast all day every day and in a good way too like flying naked through warm moonlit canyons low and fast over shimmering river beds shiny creeks running nap o the earth's flawless breathless calm with outstretched arms like wings with hands like flaps with feet like rudders careening careening into the ink towards dawn.

bandwidth blues

it takes just a little too long this dial-up nonsense wastin my time boring me to tears and what all. the fucking banjo player's walkin...

high-speed connectivity is in the breech, in my future and coming on strong by the end of the summer gonna be sizzle de dizzle and gonna have me some of that.

been slave to this dial-up modem for years. back at work in the day, i could see clearly now the rain has gone but get back home lowretta it's like buried under piles of spastic data twisting in an unbearably full sack of broken bits and bent cardboard heroes.

wha taut meh

... my reality thrives like a fungus on a sharp stump so when I peer into the abyss I remain firmly rooted in the reality of the moment while sugar plum fairies flit about and call out my name. I'm like Ulysses resisting the Sirens of yore; lashed to the mast and screaming for more.

bleak diplos biting my shorts

... and here we go again and it's really more of the same old bullshit of meeahhh vs. blllyyyppp all the damn day long plus it's not all that practical as the sib is a dippo imho anyway and not worth quibble imho...

... been told to get over it by sources close @ hand as unspeakable anger washes over me and the fact i can't control everthing speaks volumes in my walk about for the true shit realization.

dizzle driz

man what a Monday.

absolutely nothing that keeps the fixation level fixed came around today in spite of my best efforts to scare some up. been off the road for a few days and had resettled into the root system @ the house for awhile and when reintegration occurred during the reawakening hours early today it soon became clearer once again there's nothing new under that bad ol' sun.

who was it said that..?

...so I bought a paper drank some coffee and spent 3 hours working the bonster, dawdled over a late lunch reading walked it off grabbed the wife and went home. what else?
fuck. it was just an ordinary day a plain old ordinary day.

man what a Monday.

retirement's tough but hell some body's gotta do it so if I can do it anybody can do it and I would advise you to do it too before it's too late for you to do it unless of course you just love your job so fucking much in which case I would somewhat gently suggest to you that you should work your silly fucking ass off until you drop into your grave and if you should retire first and then die right away without that vacation you saved for, don't fucking blame me and say I didn't warn you.

no shirt, no shoes, no service, no shit.

jogging jiggy joggies

Got the dog gones and felt like robbing a bank so we headed south. It was a fine day in the Hill Country oh yes. The Subject of the raid is now distraught and unaware of the nature of the op...

...ate some BBQ in a small town along the way and visited some dear old friends over cold beverage and more burnt meat later that day... and I must say... it was all good.

...drove nearly 300 miles out and back just to take a shower and a 3 hour repose after 20 hours of dog kidnappings and other serious happiness pursuits. The Guilt follows me the whole time as I wait for the burnout and relocation process to kick in but I know better than to feel that way so it's cool.

Is this a great country or what?

tanks for the mammaries

oh! the Memorial Day weekend. oh so glad to be here all day minding the ranch and my own business.

CNN don't help much at all in fact they make it much worse with all the veteran-centric material going on today, it's easy to kick back and bask in it and let the 7 year old tune up the Toyota since she can reach the top drawer of the tool chest now.

My time at sea was the best time of my life. I walked away from it none the worse for wear and secure in the knowledge that I had just experienced some priceless profundity in my young life that provided a solid base for future projects and further constructs and escapades to be flawlessly executed based on my accumulated experience and education and it did.

I'd rather not dwell on it much since it damn near killed me.

locomojo

okay it's the fucking weekend okay? yeah baby and it's memorial day weekend even better and the better half is off next week and this is just plain old alright and the bonster graduated from training last week and is getting more refined in her actions and attitude this week and i'm glad but next week i have to remove mi madre's dog from her because well, she can't take care of it anymore and i'm really tired and retired and need a vacation ha! not enough naps i think. maybe more naps would help. my brother's kid is going into a war zone (sort of ) in august and the kid's grandmother has lost her mind and his parents are nervous wrecks. wheee...

i'm rather, um, meh...

this week i'm spending too much time on the road for a retired highway sign. the pay sucks and the risks are high now but it's better than a dust filled HVAC system blowing on me every 10 minutes for 15 in duration, fueling allergies and dust and bad tude not to mention the abject boredom but next week me an other haf are lake bound

i got when the getting was good and i'm glad

mutha

had a dream the other night me and my brother were sitting around talking in some cave somewhere with this lantern hanging from the overhead and i realized at some point what we were discussing... and then i woke up.

dogday afterdawn

so I'm watching the bonster go through her paces just the way she's supposed to. hand the controls over to better half and oops, bonster doesn't play nice. constantly challenging authority, she lashes out and forgets her role in the hierarchy. better half cops an attitude, bonster feeds off that and it's game over. better half is pissed. bonster is all ready to go.

better half needs more training

MUFO motherfucker

oh fuck. there they go again the Nazis win after all. the flying saucers are made in Germany. who knew?? man, am i glad that's solved. whew...

and now they're terrorizing the Free World from South American jungles omigod and fueling wingnut mentality on purpose omigod...

and have been for years fuck me to tears...

at least according to sources omigod

oh those retched excesses

...too much fun under the sun, too much done like a rib-eye of a hurricane, too much spreading cheer, beer and wherewithal hither and yon... much too much like no pain no gain no brain oh the humanity on the Plain and all...

...who in their sane mind thinks chasing the Rat racing is an enlightening and healthy alternate endeavor to living like you mean it balls out everyday like it's your last I ask?

...spent enough time on the track to understand the miserable and fallible refugees I encounter trudging along their way to their personal Eastern shore sharing their perplexed expressions and in that time I learned that my track is my track in the Historical context of that moment in Time, captured on my retina, imprinted on my soul and where it leads, rack & row I go, oh wretched excesses or not, that is the Footprint of Passage and best be grateful for that still while it wanders as usual amongst the gathered ratty tatters, dead-enders, flat-enders, flat-outers and other related auspiciousness's so known in oblique circles as the Any o' Where Bent Parallax Venting Syndrome: living in 2 dimensions simultaneously, making Time speed up or slow down depending and looking damn good while doing it.

and/or what

A long weekend for sure. Heavy weather and flooding prevented any outside activity. 8-10 inches of rain around the house is sobering and clearly reminds us how fragile we are.

Interesting to hear the talking heads on CNN bashing Obama for extending friendship to Chavez and/or accusing him of grandstanding and/or taking too long to rescue the merchant seaman and/or the killing of the teenage desperadoes and/or he's cocky and/or ad nauseum...

At least, we have a White House sharp and pointed enough to eviscerate pre-conceived notions of piety and is attempting to save our battered image and make living in 'merica worthwhile again and/or not.

I want to see whirled peas before my last ride. I want to see every son and daughter safe and the Navy standing by, deployed in place, honed to a razor and I want to see a rotting Dick Cheney under a sweltering sky twist in the wind. Or not.

ribbet

Okay they parachuted in. So they say. In the dark. They can do that. But did they? Who knows? Flying in might be fast to get them on scene but there are SEAL equipped submarines around that can deliver and that might even be faster. However they got on board Bainbridge is and will be a mystery until it's not and either way the boneheads on the lifeboat didn't know what hit them.

Imagine if you will that you are sitting there all tied up in that stinking little boat with a gun to your back and you know the Navy is out there somewhere doing something something quiet like when the 3 pirates standing around suddenly spout blood at the same time and drop dead before you hear the shots. 2 minutes later some scary looking Americans with veins in their teeth emerge from the sea and are standing there dripping wet helping you up and grinning like madmen.

I

...was thinking recently and decided after frying a can of corned beef hash under a couple of eggs for Easter I would write and say hey yup it's a wunnerful life no kidding so what's up Up East?...

...saw a guy the other day looked just like the Jimmy Gerhardt that I knew from my misguided youth. We got into trouble together in the 8th grade and laughed about it for years and then he moved to Houston and I never saw him again. Only problem was I was asleep at this point and he's probably pretty dead by now but he was right there visiting and still looked 16. I haven't thought about him in years but I talked to him and shook his hand like we were still best friends...

...gave me pause when I opened my eyes to the alarm clock a short time later and realized I was dreaming...

...am all like what's he doing here? Am I fixing to run into his dead self or was he just visiting on his way by? Or was this just a weird ass dream steeped in madness and peering beyond The Realm and I don't know it yet?

WTF!

...would if I were but 40 years younger and back in the zone try out for the SEAL teams in order to fight brigands and the other bad Tripoli guys everywhere and verily it would be the cool and righteous way in hindsight and retrospect:=== gilling birates...

but uh...

...as I digress Internationally dead or alive, am too lazy and not too crazy to work underwater or in midair actually leaving only beach ops which is okay I guess as long as it's dry and not too noisy which is at most,

unlikely...

wondergirlie

man o man the thing is just so amazing this Bons is Nhia hoo ha almost every day she awakens a new compartment and puts more head space out there and it's good for us; this self-imposed therapy of the same canine kind kind o yes very fine version.

the dog is the great equalizer the counter balance in the packola the 4 legged stone

log fragment...

1800-Clearing the roads outbound Le Carte...
Hitting rhumb line to south x...
Watch set...
Mr. Clysets has the conn...

1900-Light quartering breeze to starboard & sheets thrumming...
Lady chews a bad bone...
M/A reports all secure below...
Leadsman reporting channel bottom falling away...

All hands piped to splice the main brace...
The smoking lamp is lit... oh yeah.

2000-Breeze still airy but steady on transitionals...

2100-Deep rollers above the Trench while coasting downhill under full Moonrise...

2103-Time takes over as dolphin escort arrives on station Bristol Style smiles all around...
Sea pulsing with luminosity...
Glass holding steadily...
Promises to be fair run...

2200-Fantail is open...
Lookouts reporting uncluttered horizon to the Farside...

2300-Dark Ship...
Smoking lamp is out fantail is closed...

2400-A's/w steady full n by...
Midwatch set Condition Silent...

0100-A's/w steady full n by...
Mr. Jznwck has the conn...

oven dreamboat

...the perfect sandwich is a fine slab o' meatloaf bedded between 2 aggressively fresh & nubile slices of a revisited baked good smathered with mayo and sprinked w/ ground pepper from Malaysia to here abouts and nurtured like a bleeding scab in filthy hands.

Bontner Lives

wow this here dog training is a lot like working for a living with a kid strapped to my chest in one of those sling dealies that native peoples everywhere wears while working.

she's becoming an expo star at the instruction thing and her English skills are improving as are the intuitive fuzzies complimenting her mighty fine good looks to boot.

on the focused side of the sandwich during the day when wife is working her career to a whittling until she can hang it up and says been real, been fun but not real fun yo, the Bontner lives.

play like you own it

Somebody once said that we should play like we practice meaning we should always beat shit out of the taxi squad all week before the big gig or practice like we play and get shit beat out of us under the lights.

I just read a paper by some shrink in a tree house proclaiming the power of playing in a post-playing sense of rest is an important factor in delaying death by deader than shit from stress. The power of playing and having fun has shown to improve one's odds in the slot and by having a really good healthy day, salad or not, improves the substantial guilt-factor coping scale to a manageable level while jubilantly getting away with it.

I've always sorta known that in my own juvenile immature way. I knew playing football and playing hookie was fun and running with my dog was sublime and coupled up meant just plain live wire sublime fun and at my age today, except for the football part, what the fuck. I find fun wherever I find it. Having fun is the whole reason to breathe whether you like it or not so having fun to spare suits me fine as the Bon realizes I got the time. To have fun.

The cube farm is a termini of soul devouring tedium converging on the complacent idleness of Whatever and becoming the Dead By Death Syndrome so familiar to the retirees.

You have been warned.

sprungs

Scoot the chair and the dog jumps over it's dead self as you listen to the junebugs pelting your bonnet, wary as usual.

Nothing there. Dog resigns.

zzzzzzz

sand casting

I had the pleasure of listening to Dick Cheney this morning justify his life and his policies during his tenure in the White House all the while disagreeing with Obama claiming his policy is exposing the US to more terror attacks and of course displaying the usual brand of arrogance even when shown the GOP short comings across the board in the last 8 years. He even praised Rush Limbaugh calling him a good man. And the question was posed to him, why should anybody listen to you?

As Dick began to spin I left the room. It was Cheney's first interview since the change at the White House and I hope to never hear from him again. He can't lie good. I feel like washing my hands or taking a cold shower every time I hear Dick or his ex-boss pontificate. They're oily and smell like dead fish. I'm giving Obama all the rope he needs and a good dose of benefit of the doubt.

...on a lighter note, it seems that I'm doing a bang up job these days in my cluster sector and apparently my own self esteem refuses to acknowledge it even to my self but the results show that my efforts are producing the desired expectations and I should stop beating myself up just because some things are not readily visible. Need to look into that. When I examine all aspects of my actions I'm left with one conclusion; I'm doing the right thing. So why do I have these doubts? Because I'm operating without any true feed back other than mine thus there is a small splinter of doubt lingering in the back of my mind plus operating without a net over terrible waters? Who cares, I generally have to ignore this shit and write it off as a silly insecurity bullshit flea because I know I'm doing the right thing. I know and that's all that matters because I am Sparticus Marticus of The Welbious-On-The Tibious-Of-The Fibious! and don't forget it.

That's how I know.

highway revisited 61 times

bonny bonny boo bonny banana bana boo bonny bee bi boe bonny boo...


As the Path was well kept and navigable, my Zen kicked in and the Princess Bin nyot Pu will have to do as she plucks the pebble from my hand muhmuhring "yesssgrazzhoppah such chutzpa you has..." smiling through this side of moonlight and speeding on.

woa... The Path lives.

beware the Snides of March

I hate windy weather. It's the constantly roiling molecules wafting through my magnetic fields, the dust, the pollen, the aggravated ions all and it interferes with my electrical systems and makes my eyes itch and my damn nose run too woo woo that bothers me. It annoys me dammit janet for no apparent reason to you and yet it's so obvious to me. They's too many discharges and misfires in my circuits creating this this... this whatever when I stand in the teeth of cold wind that's been beating on my windows and doors for days & days and forcing a primordial response to aggressive weather and feeling hostile towards a drought on a windy day because of all the implications it has plus it gives me that crappy cooped up feeling I get staying out of the wind after I get home and I hate windy weather ashore more often than not because it's not as fun as windy weather offshore but still I would prefer quietude on demand going on a minute ago.

*note to self: must learn better coping skills.

all stupids over in that line... no dogs allowed

what a week and now the moron next door is cutting her trees down to make her taxes. she's got enough stupid for at least 3 people and I certainly see why she's divorced not the least of which is a nose that resembles a GPS antenna on a van. don't think I've ever disliked anybody as much as her in my entire life and I like a lot of people. I have zero tolerance for idiocy and chainsaws at 7 in the morning on a saturday 100 feet away just shows the depth of her mania because when it's all over, she will still be broke and her property ruined. everything she touches turns to shit and the problem is there's no law against being stupid plus the local constabulary couldn't care less but just wait until her hybrids kill something and then maybe they will get involved. I've exhausted all my legal avenues. only options left for me are against the law and she aint worth going to jail over, the bitch.

on the lighter side, the Bonster starts formal training next week for 3 days followed by another regiment of 6 weeks at the end of the month. don't think I've ever met a smarter dog and we've had a few others of the breed. she's problematic, hard headed and very bright which translates to a bunch of work for us but what the fuck, I'm retired.

explicating ganglia

The fact still remains this country is involved in pointless and morally corrupt adventurism, profiteering and mercenary endeavors that is eating our young and bankrupting the rest of us. The World Court is looking at us askance wondering where our good intentions went. We can't win in the high passes along the Afghan border with Pakistan or the oil sands of Iraq because it's impossible. There's much too much tribal warfare there and a modern military force just cannot prevail at altitude carrying 140lbs. or more on their backs in the cold or the other guys dropping munitions in the dark from 20,000 feet. The covert on the ground 'hot pursuit' operations accomplish little and turn the local population against us well duh, all part of the plan, have we learned nothing since 1975 after losing over 55,000 +/- American kids alone during a 10 year occupation in Vietnam? A whole generation gone. Committing more troops to fighting will solve nothing, further erode our already rusty visage and create yet another generation of broken war wounded on both sides of the shoe. Obama should rethink this troop commitment while he has time. There's no good coming out of constant warfare. Just look at our economy. You think Forever War is good? Good for what again exactly? Who you think.

I'm not opposed to an open hand, as opposed to an RPG, to the Taliban maniacs if they stop killing and form up Boy Scout troops for the next generation of extreme tourist of war-torn Aphfuckingstan in the springtime serving as tour guides and ambassadors of good will and grace.

I have a young family member slated to deploy in country with a Navy Construction Battalion. Prior to his leaving he will receive advanced weapons training in addition to his assigned duties. He will live in his Kevlar. He has a son on the way. His father is a bundle of nerves, his mother is scared to death and he's too stupid to be scared. So far.
My nephew has a lot to learn. I wish he had gone to sea instead where life is symmetrical and black and white, where the weather takes the guess work out of survival and where he can reap the benefits from being there when he comes home for good.

He will need counseling when he comes home and indeed he will come home. Yes he will.

Sigh...

Such a waste.

The Taliban and their cousins al-Qaeda are medieval bastards whose parents are motherfuckers. They are inbred morons that live in dirt, eat and wipe with the same hand, prostitute their sheep to the highest bidder on the uphill slope and sell their daughters to the downhill side.

Taliban

will self-destruct.

al-Qaeda

will self-destruct.

They are merely small vermin that will turn on themselves when their teeth get too long.

It will happen.

This I know because the voices tell me so. There is no way there will be a world wide Islamic Revolution. Bah! The odds, historically, are against zealotry and Murder Inc. These are pathogens that fade as they use up their energy like a hurricane coming ashore over a deserted landscape. Look at any pandemic in history. They all go away someday leaving behind a trail of dead and lessons both learned and unlearned. We must leave our occupation and allow the healing to begin on the one hand, continue our vigilance against terror on the other, plant trees and then kisses on the bloated faces of the dead to absolve our trespass upon the innocent.

There's no future in dying. There's not Paradise waiting for psychopathic suicide killers. They are megalomaniacs and they are stupid and their god will punish them for their crimes against Nature. They are thugs and the world is better off without them and I wish I could help send them on their way remotely without invading their country if they would just stop blowing their intestines all over the crowded market godammit it ruins the fucking vegetables...

So I send pulses through the network and it responds with reactive force dependant on the amplitude of the original pulse and it is good for I will kill them to death like the virus they are before they can ping me back.

Dumbling

tumbling tumbling is how i feel not stumble stumbling shit that's real across the frozen steppes of buzzard's bight against the icy cut of arctic night fuck i traverse on without my sight knowing knowing i'm in the light.


Canine behavior modification in practice is much more complicated than the written version as espoused by the expert we hired to train us to train The Bonster. We are working on garden variety aggression and dominance issues here and improper chewing, barking and a whole myriad of other items to deal with not the least of which is a highly intelligent dog that willfully challenges us for the top slot. There is however progress being made in glacial increments which is far better than nothing. I refuse to let her overpower and take control of the cockpit and for this due diligence we will be rewarded with a companionable canine worthy of the right-hand seat of somedaysoon.

yu peye o

Gains were made today on the southern slopes of nowhere and while on the slide there, redundant progress was also recorded dealing with gains on the slope to yonder too according to the Redundancy Department of Redundancy, again.

Some dialogue was established at the local level after a flurry of steam and diamond dust scoured the flutes thus restoring an A minor into the background again and reminding the opposing breezer that it's 'game on' and time to either stand down and shut the fuck up or both.

got dinkalink?

so we batten down, hunker down, buckle under, press on facing harsh gales of pending global implosion and financial collapse and take stock of our gots while the bulging hatch at the top of the ladder shrieks, piercing our every nerve.

... but being on the bright side of recession proofness: 1) our vehicles are paid for. 2) our property is paid for. 3) the note on the house is less than a car payment and the house has a new metal roof. 4) gas is cheaper. 5) we're eating well and with good health... what more do you want? and even though i'm sorta-retired at my tender age, 6) we still have double income, no kids
so...
it. could. be. a. lot. worse.

not a gloat to be grateful in the extreme i always say.

eeeeeeeeeeeooodddddd

practical trumps all sometimes. hearing instruments for the mom are canceled and she's none the wiser. would have been too complicated for her at her life stage.

now it's back to plain old fire tending and waiting on the buffalo to cross the walking river in the rising rain.

whiskey tango foxtrot

I must need my head examined. My demented moms is being fitted with hearing aids next week and I will give them, oh six hours or so max before they disappear into the black hole of memory loss and confusion. In the spirit of trying to ease my mother's burden of being both demented and deaf as a dead poet, I'm thinking if she can hear better maybe she would be less confused but maybe no, maybe I'm confused to think it will make any difference to a person who's at odds with everything disagreeable anyway but all I can do is try and in my spare time scream into the void at my dead father for leaving me this fucking mess to clean up. When she asked me how long does she have to live there, where she's currently residing, I couldn't answer without my inflicting gallows humor she wouldn't get so I said nothing, changed the subject lamenting to myself the fact she's become a bipolar, overweight clothes rack without a clue who can't function properly on her own if she doesn't feel sorry for herself enough or have something or someone to hate or at least have an intense, unreasonable dislike for...

...if she could just remember what the fuck it was.

the Bonster

okay so what we have here is my handler in the background handling a resting but growth factored 36 pounds of insane coiled sinew tightly wrapped inside a semi-feral hybrid high speed all terrain air dam that can tag a greyhound, wrestle a cow, box a horse, sass a swan sideways or hop your ass and hand it back and all before breakfast and she's only 8 months old in the foreground of a picture posing as my pal the friendly pirate queen, Bonny the Bloody.

disruptive to the bone

Well yes I suppose, it's sorta like a flying down the streets of San Francisco or maybe Oakland naked silently atop a 10 speed bike in the dark because that's all you need to die kind of a disruption thing probably. Or maybe not. I dunno. Always to the edge of the event horizon I say. Sometimes all I have to do is turn around and there I am and sometimes I have to sleep it off with eyes wide open. Depends. I usually only do what the voices tell me to do but sometimes my attention span just wanders off and a search ensues out back in the dumpster before my a.span is found again on some unheard of frequency telling me never mind. Uncanny innet?

JFK was warned by the French not to engage the Viet Minh. Too anti-colonial, too embedded, too tribal, too localized a struggle against Imperialist Dogs they said, never work Jack you can't just send in the Marines and the 1st Air Cav but in the name of all that's blue-blooded, apple pied and PT-Boat motherfuckered, he did it anyway by god and thus what was born into fire but every other covert gun boat diplomacy clone since. The father of modern Special Operations he was and frogmen and snipers everywhere can thank him and today the pinko culture of Vietnam is thriving thank you very much Yankee pig bubbasan.

...and I must say to hell with Krugman, I just thought he made sense in spite of himself. I don't really care. The national debt deflates me. I want Obama to win this but the thing might get him dead. How much more can you take of gimme gimme? For us, too late. The kids, mmm, if they fight tooth and nail might squeak by before the final curtain otherwise the end is near in 10 convenient installments of just $29.95 all of which go to tax deductible charity organizations engaged in the serious work of finding a cure for what ails you.

http://www.truthout.org/011709Z

and don't EVEN get me started about the Alaska governor oh god no please no-

Can you say stay tuned...
for this plainly oppositional freedom business of Obama's that's grinding into our contemporary culture and conscience like a comic book hero? Tell me now if this is all too good to be true. Is this shit for real really?
Me and Peter Parker and I predict there will be a Hollywood movie about this incredible event one way or another and there will be a great gnashing of teeth and rending of hair and eyeballs and many tears shed and a great many silver dollars struck for this oddly American occasion that is so fragile and yet so stalwart a human endeavor in the modern world and will have it's praises sung from now on however short lived this American dream might be, this flash of brilliance in the void of eternity.

Windwalking

Ok I admit it, I'm getting caught up in this Obama Moment. I feel like I just woke up from a coma for the last 8 years and now there's actually hope left in the world and maybe Americans aren't as stupid or brutish as they appear. We have elected a Black Guy and he reports to work Tuesday morning. What... in this country?... the white bread capital of the world? I'm dreaming. No wait, Martin said that. This is reality and I'm not dreaming. The Human Condition just improved by a factor of 10 on a scale of 1-5. Can we really see a world hug coming our way? The Principles of Humanity as seen by our Forefathers, who resisted a tyrant as well, is the foundation of our Condition and it will be restored and thrive and we will improve the world condition by proxy because it will be cool to be from here.

I have a new reason to love my country and it's not out of some sense of superiority or jingoism but what it is that makes this country so great a place to live. We are a country of the People, by the People and for the People. That is the nature of Democracy and for far too long in this country the Democratic Ideals have been the Tyranny of the Minority. Too much apathy has allowed the kind of criminality to occur that has tarnished all we stand for; equality, compassion and freedom. The tyrants are being run down. The Constitution is being reborn and put back in place. The Rule of Law is coming to town and it's checking it's list and checking it twice. Criminal misbehavior in government WILL NOT be tolerated and a War on a Whim will not be allowed. Impeach and prosecute Bush for High Crimes against Humanity so this won't happen again. We are not Fascists and we need to show the world that we really are pretty nice folks and given the chance we can enforce Democracy and make you pretty nice folks too.

scrubs in tights

"Osteomyelitis Treatment with Nanometer-sized Hydroxyapatite Particles as a Delivery Vehicle for a Ciprofloxacin-bisphosphonate Conjugate; New Fluoroquinolone-bisphosphonate Derivatives Show Similar Binding Affinity to Hydroxyapatite and Improved Antibacterial Activity Against Drug-resistant Pathogens."

hmmmmmmmmmmmm

...for the hopelessly scientifically challenged, this means that they are using tiny particles of the mineral that makes up most of the hard part of the bone to deliver cipro to infections of the bone.
well duh... you say.

meanwhile the war plays on. what doesn't kill you will make you stronger.

http://www.truthout.org/011509E

Rupert aka 'Bumpy Bugger' Bumpers R.I.P.

on a number of levels this graphic both works for me and offends me and if you got a minute i'll tell you whatfor.

graphic on the left has a perceived terrorperson with a white AK47 and ski mask fighting for their reason from behind a rubber baby buggy bumper shooting at graphic on the right where you have a perceived terrorperson with a black M16 and hard hat fighting for their reason from in front of a rubber baby buggy bumper shooting at the graphic on the left la la la ad nauseum...

this is an unfair justification to shoot at rubber baby buggy bumpers.

i GET IT already. painfully so.
and so do all the other rubber baby buggy bumpers.

to put a stop to it just wiggle your nose three times, click your heels together and you're there. see how easy that is now what's for supper?

i scream for ice cream.

yaaayyy!!!

ming's meow?

...a top drawer example of excellence and fastidiousness routinely fashioned and groomed to a fine cutting edge...

"Man this shit is the ming's meow."

tried to post this on urbandictionary.com and they decided i've done enough for one year. see zingpow for the skinny. don't know why they claim my email address is invalid when they sent the notice of publication to that address.
think the public needs to know just what the hell the ming's meow actually is because all blade managers know that a fine edge will cut with just a breath of air.

Little Cauliflower

baby's back dressed in black no longer intact and that's a fact. today she's home from the horsepistol with a sore gut, fuzzy thinking and bad breath. she's my baby girl.

anthropomorphised

with misplaced sadness and heavy heart the light of my day and the night of my dark will be presented for surgery posthaste in the morning

mope I will for my leetle Bon Bon

and

will not I rest till the deed is done



i said that...

grueling for naught

Go ahead stop okay enough now bite my shorts please we're even so go pick on somebody smaller than you somewhere else or better yet go pick on somebody bigger than you as usual and as usual get your brain handed to you on a bun see where that gets you so go ahead stop already okay?
I mean that's all I'm sayin just why is itit just won't stop? when these fucking tribal dissonances sanding out stains in the carpets...? over and over for the sake of it since it's part of the fabric of foreverwar and like it or not my god's better than your god so fuck you bang you're dead if you don't like it for the last twenty hundred something daftillion years or so like when Yellowstone blows her top after the National Geo Special last Tuesday and we're bathing in searing hot ash laden rain that closely resembles searing hot flash laden mud is that when? Huh? I don't know either but I'm keeping my flashlight loaded too just in case just in case and resign myself to reality once again.

there's always yesterday supposedly

well hell yeah it's the fucking new year and a big whoop goes up and happy as a pig in shit to be here again one never knows when that damn bell tolls just ask around thems that dont know so might as well be here for it am i right no?


on the other foot there's always days after yesterdays to sort this sort of thing out and if that dont work for you then you dont need my dog since she can fix most anything as well as take it apart right in front of you so she knows where my graycells grows and it's so tomorrow so she knows where not to look as if that's important today except what you need now is likely not what she has in mind in the mean time.

my dog is a good dog

clambering over the bodies

... so it goes, another holiday shot, shived and shoved, pushed aside, in a glide, diced, sliced and iced to make room for another as the band plays on bing bang bong.

the years are blurring like a reflection in the subway windows as it careens through the 42nd street station at 78 mph and i can't get on and i can't get off, just riding it out too tired to care in this winter of my discontent with no meaning as i age away and as usual... so it goes.

nippled & dyned to deaf

if it aint one thing it's another first it's hot then it's cold then it's hot. and then it's hot and then it's not and then it is. man this is taking it's toll this back and forth tittytatty bangbang because the yard already needs re-painting and the sky's burned out and needs a new one and my feet are old all the trees have all called in nude and headed to re-education camps & i'm sick and tired of being sick and tired of this heart of darkness morality play that keeps careening round and round my brainpan dodging clots while the dogs bay themselves to sleep without consideration for those of us emerging from the pool armed & ready and well shitfire that fucker needs a paint job too come to think of it better get on it.

hellifino this is expensive this always something never a dull laugh or cry oh well and ride the grey dog on out a here live to ride ride to live lucy i'm home moment but still...... what would be the point if you can't stand still long enough to find out?

'splain that.

from the subliminal to the subdural

this time of year disturbs me like a spike in sun spots and other solar activity that fucks with the tidal basins in my head disturbs me. i tell an old friend how i hate christmas and laugh. he says you do not and laughs. i chuckle back and say oh yes i do. then we change the subject and the elevator music plays on and the crowd is nice meanwhile the troops are not home yet godammit and now everybody in the world knows how to throw a grenade at the president and the next guy coming in is an african american born on the islands and shoots hoops and is under glass and covered from every manhole and rooftop and three piece suit in towns everywhere and i catch a whiff of the christmas tree lots as i drive by and remember the good old days and how i hate christmas now because they're charging 150+ bucks for that damn 4 foot farm raised fir and they stick it in sugar water for 3 weeks and sit around and ooh and aah it to death and drag it to the dump after the new year ambushed your sorry ass again as per usual and begins the slow crawl through january and fuck here we go.
shit.
i cant hardly wait for next summer so i can look forward to next winter and think about those christmas trees that remind me of my youth when we couldnt wait for next christmas during next summer. bah!
i hate christmas. no really.

oogedy-boogedy

so i'm kinda like a Wednesday opening on my busy shedyule this week will have mines call ya'lls and make it so eh? hot spicey noodles for lunch sound fartingly good what's not to like? and will leave room for fried greased supper-aramabamadingdong for balance mere hours later oooh baby oooh...


re:
best thing about people like Hank Giroux is that you can read their stuff, ponder their stuff and ignore their stuff without fear of an eraser being thrown at your nodding off forehead knocking out your stuff or miss anything else new for that matter in the comfort of your own home at the same time and stuff.

...alas learning critical thinking is a choice sadly enough like a career flinging shit.

however ol' stick as you know, me thunks crit think skills are essential to staying above the fray which is where the clearer visions are unless of course ok is good enough which is whatever feels good but the biological awareness of an uppity selfdom is still a serious focal point and leg up in understanding the point of it all anyway without being utterly ridiculous and mired in mind-numbing soul-sucking haircut boredom and just ok know what i mean?


watch more history channel or else.


bwoohahahaz

2 to 4 bits worth

Just what this country needs; a good war and a 5 cent cigar.

ha! thesesillyassholes...put everybody to work for the military-industrial complex making munitions for a better mummers world and a soup kithchen for the homies and their friends my friends, the muzzle of a gun is the only way to run a railroad because we're not here to introduce the local flora and fauna to the joy and freedom of democracy people, we're here to enforce the democracy people and if that means state sponsored terrorism in the name of democracy my friends then bygoodgod almighty come on down, we'll just do it and never mind the founding fathers and some vision of Camelot with a side of beef in every pot posing for a Norman Rockwell painting under some carpet bombs from 30,000 feet and never warned about.




this calls for another brigade strength phalanx of suicide for effect, Mr. Gridley, you may fire when ready.

damn the mosquitoes, full speed to dead.

catch 'em next time.

meanwhile--- slinc er slim and life's too short and we're all fucked anyway so might as well roll over and go back to sleep.

the alarm goes off soon enough.

away all boats...

Well today think is the day I arrived screaming pink with stink under hot lights and Mozart banging on the 88's in the background some many moons ago.

So far this life has been fun. No point in complaining because it's all been said before so it's pointless to be unhappy. I get depressed maybe since the world really is so very fucked up but I got this life and that's what counts in the final analysis.

Life after death? meh, don't buy it. Dead is dead and the longer I stay out of the ohbee's the better I like it because Bob happens and that includes the hospitals because there aint nobody in there except fucking sick people who are for the most part dying and who needs that? WTF! I mean... how can you rest in peace if there's some heavenly choir singing all the time and jumping up and down on the bed and stuff? I mean really... Repose is repose and it's under the daisies da tra la la.

End of story.

Happy Birthday to Myself and I...

and God loves Me too

The day of Turkely's Trepridation

One of the better t-days in recent years being only me and the wifey, the moms and the little evil doggie present for the usual bird, cranberries, yams and beat down spuds replete with gravy, greenbean almondine, bread of corned innards and chased by punkin pie, chilled water and tea. It was a short and sweet event geared toward minimal aggravation with maximum results and it worked and set a new benchmark for the next several encounters.

The moms has forgotten my wife of 29 years and most everything else in the last 10. My stress levels are more manageable due to her declining cognitive abilities because I'm getting used to it now that it's measurable and tangible like the sun going down or the moon going by or the river running dry. My wife provides a lot of interference for me as we advance into the haze for she has the soft touch of an angel and smooths it all out while I watch mi madre auger in and as she augers she thinks my wife is some nice young lady that just hangs around with me and the dog which is, as long as I don't have to further explain anything again, fine with me, never mind the grandchildren and the great one on the way.

a grinding flash

...and so it goes and goes and goes... a fine day to contemplate navels and practice dogspeak. Bonster is 6 months and draws a crowd everywhere she shows. if I could bottle puppycute I would be rich.

but money aint everything and although it helps it's the devil's work to disdain the finer things that money can't buy for a life of toil toil bubble and boil. one may gain feduciary advantage by striving for wealth but one will also lose the soul in the process and hence any chance of being happy. I think happy trumps monied everytime.

To my working class relatives: I have no use for your misery or your sorryass attitude.

obtuse indolence

this occurred to me last night during the counting of votes and it kept me up too late...

today however dawned in a superb sort of way somehow no different than any other day in it's typical unfolding but there was a lightness of mood while mired in the traffic because after all we're in this together and McPalin can go away now and we can get on with it.

so i dare not speculate on the outcome of this knife fight raging across our living rooms. i can only say i'm glad these 2 candy dates got every body's attention deficit disorder's attention and they all went voting and brought guns to the knife fight but will it restore my faith in these idiots we call 'mericans to do the right fucking thing for a change and go about taking the Constitution back or will everybody continue to continue... doin de doot dee doo?

only the shadows know...

but that's what they want see. resistance is futile. who was it said "If they can get you to ask the wrong questions then they don't have to give you the right answers."? that's how they control us you know. them. them guys. thems. misinformation and chaos wrapped inside a smooth outer layer of chaos and misinformation thems. you know, those guys that run it. the machine. the ones akilling us. the thems dammit! i hope like hell nobody burns down the hood somewhere tonight dancing to the Riots. omyfuckingawd r u kidn me? it could happen because of them. again. dammit man!

by the way, it was one mark twain said that about the future, i merely quoted him sorry but nevertheless, a fine observation with a straight face eh? we will indeed spend the rest of our lives there. the one about questions and answers was written by pynchon and observed by one of his characters in a novel of some repute so don't shoot me, i'm just the conduit in this whore house. yow! bring me a little lyre. dada boom. check's in the mail. ha. i don't even know your wife. wooo wooo

so this duck walks into a bar right and asks if they serve grapes. bartender says no and the duck says do you serve ducks. bartender says no get out of here. duck leaves but comes back a little while later and hops up to the bar and asks if they serve grapes. bartender looks up and says no. do you serve ducks says the duck. no says the bartender get out of here. i told you, we don't serve grapes and we don't serve ducks. duck leaves. sometime later duck walks into the bar, hops up to the counter and asks if they serve duck. bartender says yeah, what'll you have? duck says duck sandwich. bartender says with mayo? duck says no, with grapes. bartender says says no we don't serve ducks get outa here. duck says but all i wanted was a grape. this went on for a time and then a horse walked in and ordered a beer. he was nuzzling the foam a few minutes later when the duck hopped up on the bar ahead of the bartender and says to the horse so what's with the long face? horse says they don't serve grapes and the duck says yeah i know, they don't serve ducks either.

pie r squared

So here it is, fall falling and the late light hitting just about right along with air temperature that would fatten anybody if they could bottle it and bonnydog and me just getting it here in one spot taking it in like moon beams on a rainy night only it aint raining and it aint dark and bonny don't care about it anyway 'cuz she's my Leetle Bon Bon and don't eat pie nope and the rest of the story is my idiot nephew is just that and his parents are like a double shot of stupido and the whole motherfucker has consumed my shorts.

Mel's Rule

... imparts that delicate smokey flavor and texture found only in the charred remains of grass-eaters in from the all day de-worming project and brought to you by thoughtful smokers thereof and by smokers I refer to the masters of the smoke arts and drip pan handlers guild who know a thing or two about burned flesh.

... love is a many splintered thing

Please have fun in spite of yourself, now of course. Still working on it myself and figure if one works 40 years and retires @ 57 years of age then one has only had fun for around 17 years counting nights and weekends.
So the goal now is to have more fun fun than fun work fun even if the fun fun part is boring and under funded. ha...!

Never found a fun job zakly except the summer of '67 when working on the Lakeway marina was a 17 year old's wet dream. Or maybe liberty somewhere in some exotic swamp away from the ship a few years later. Whatever. I forget. Everything else has been scything under the sun. Gimme a ship and a star to steer by or barring that, a non-crisis weekend in the shade while the steaks are browning on the barbi, Miles is on the box and everything's right in the world all the live long day. Right?

Mels Rule baeebuuh!!!

... but then there are events beyond me: a young family member with a chip on his head decided to defy conventional wisdom and used up his luck when he wrecked 5 cars and knocked up his teenage bitch slut person. El Kid owes money for the next 100 years and the child aint even been born. He's really a bigger idiot than his parents will admit and he's only 21 going on 0. Meanwhile he admits sirehood for the time being of said bastard child stepping up and admitting publicly that he fucked his girl friend in front of his parents.
I'm screaming for a timeout and it aint even my fucking problem, even a little bit except there will be another death in the family soon enough and calling for pat-tests to make sure who's going to pay for this paint job is the only thing to do.

Ike clination like yo

the guys over at FEMA slay me. the coast is beat to shit, people's done down in the dumps over dis. yo!
local storm help is spread pretty thin what with the motherfucking war and all using up the help @. yo!
and away we go mumbling into the next room content in the shades of day while all the while at bay.
yo!

in leu of monsters...

...Bonster got her growed up shots the other day and her tag and everthing so now she's 4 months into the growed dog's life. she seems to enjoy being a dog so far as far as a dog can be observed to be enjoying itself in the general clatter and hubbub of your mind and doesn't seem to harbour any regrets for past crimes and/or high times but she is a child dog still and being a dog, being what it is, is what you get for being a dog. in most cases not a bad deal but you never know around here unless you're my dog. meanwhile these motherfucking politics are killing me like watching fucking paint dry what the hell is it with some people putting noony noony boo boo's in charge of the ice cream?

i know one damn thing motherfucker and i aint sayin that just because i can but i aint because i can.

got it?

anyway-

going to dallas in a couple of days to mingle with n-laws over the week end watch football eat drink meet mary tomorrow we die for about 2 hours max, i'm the youngest retiree in the bunch yes i'm liking it fine thank you, nodding off between the penalty flags...

casual tuesday

god here we go again. the moms is flaming out. gnat turds perhaps in the synapse causing a misdeed of electrons and disrupting the normal course of free association in the elderly brain by cluttering it with the hubris of daily whim. there is no cure. old age is terminal and all I can do is provide support from the bench which includes stuff I care not to mention like the ice floe north of the Bering Straits along with the frightful weather that accompanies said colder currents.

bonster monster is keeping us well lubed and cubed. her sparkling performances take us furthur. the game is afoot and they aint got nothing on her.

then play on...

Miss Bonny Blue Jean of the BonnyBonnyBooBaaBay

The Bonster Monster is the news and that aint much but she's fine and getting on like a glove. At 3.6 months her deductive powers astound and confound and are proving to be formidable. She's my baby girl doggie oh yes she is and will not let me forget it no my leetle bon bon, my leetle cauliflower.

Windowpane Theology

...and so it goes. Fucking pouring down rain with me and the pup warming a stump in the shade. Gotta play the laylow game today to minimize potty breaks. No training today nopes. Just me and the Bonster on a Tuesday sittin around here doing our best at nothin better to do. With the wife at work, there's no CNN creeping me out from across the room. Best way I know to get depressed is listen to CNN all day. Best way to stay out of that is leave the TV off. Hello?? Today I got all my news from the weather radar on the NWS web site. Much more refreshing than politics and warfare and changes faster than any fucking pointy head politician can conjure for us or promise us in televised debates with other pointy head political big spenders who promise to eat your babies and shit pure fucking gold in return. Warfare is always the cheap way to your heart. The expense comes later when you realize how had you were but then oops, you're broke and it's too fucking late. Oh dear god. Cry me a river but what the fuck were you thinking sending a generation off to die? And for what again?
I highly recommend keeping an eye on the weather because it influences you. Yes you. And it always will.

re:

i sally ferth

steel rims in sand

""...nothing surprises me..." lamented Cusecio squinting into the late afternoon sun as the wagon wheels of his stencil, redlining it downhill in a merry bliss shedding all detractors and their tractors alike, shook to beat the band I dare say and because really nothing ever surprised him even a little bit, even after the war and all because he was so surprised to be alive you know he just remained surprised. Like a baby duck every day he did and his wife always noticed how surprised he was every morning. He got out of bed everyday in the morning because he was so
surprised.
It was as foreign a concept I could imagine being so surprised and not being so surprised in/at the same time and space especially in the morning. Cusecio was an odd duck, a queer bird. Especially in the morning. Was considered by many to be quite shell-shocked and for him far as he was concerned that was nothing new and his gravity was matched. As a result this this whatever, zoning, or whatever, redlining downhill stencilfixer was fixing to become the surprise and he didn't even know it. The fix was in the mix."

...but I digress...

New pup Bonny is a heartbreaker. She's doing well and promises to be just as difficult as we thought she'd be. She's kinda like a teenager on four legs. More like a lot like a teenager on four legs.

puppy hell in a basket

today is the first full day around here for the new house mate: a 10 week old cow dog that flew in yesterday from out of state. she's kept me up most of the night with congestion, loose stool and general lack of sleepiness or remorse to which all i can do in response is sigh and say to myself i told you so. to the vet the first thing this morning when they open for her shots and maybe some antibiotics to clear up her chest, another day resting then to boot camp.
so far she shows a lot of good sense and great temperament and when housebreaking is done, maybe i'll get some rest.

aawww!

ya know I sit here and I wonder but I don't give a shit because I don't feel a thing and I wonder if talking to my silly self would help but I don't think so I'm drinking, beer to be exact, and I don't remember being here except for the meow part then I remember the bow wow part and it reminds me of the you know what part and then it's the no shit part. who should I believe?


...but be that as it may, it still can be the end of the world without us knowing it or for all I care
and in the mean time I'm going like, aaww shucks, what a beautiful baby.

pick a number, get in line, take a seat. get ready...

more from the retirement front

oh yes. the u o' t union is very rich dribbledribbledribble a tarjai but i tend to stay in my car these days so trolling the campus is out unless i park and walk 40 blocks trying to look innocent which in my advanced stage of decay, i shant do since my wife works on campus and the cops know me. small world.

mondays aren't so bad anymore. by the way. they tend to zippy right on by and leave me feeling utterly refreshed mostly. i recently went inside the HRC @ UT to look up a novel writer person i like had some papers there in the archive. i remembered how to act in a research library. it was inspiring.

been following the Peloponnesian War with more than a passing interest here lately. o my fucking gawd can Thucydides deliver a point or what?
rest of the time i'm blending in with the scenery. just buried our 3rd dog and already looking for a new pup. need new tires truck's almost paid for traffic sucks and gas is killing us but wtf, it cant eat us so right now the Riley, Life Of is ok if anybody asks. might get a chance here to buy wolf lady's property next door which would be like scoring a touchdown and winning the superbowl in the last second on national tv and getting laid on the fantail at the same time. awesome.
epic of wolf lady is long story.

we're trying not to get out much for obvious reasons so home grown deep in the heart of hanging out around the house is about the only game awake. parental issues on both sides have proven to be attention mongers. so far no need to get second job. having enough distraction right now for busy worth's. hope the wife can retire soon too then we can really save money.

whatever they tell you about retirement, dont believe a fucking thing they tell you and dont ask me because you wouldnt believe me anyway but if you did ask i would say yeps to you and to the uninitiated who insist on proof there is life after work. there is.
trust me...

bwwwhhhaahhaaahhhaaaaa

skegma hai

this retirement thing is alright but my working for a living friends have forgotten all about me being wrapped up in their so called careers and all and they just fucking forgot about me about as much i them so there and frankly francis surely that's okay because after all i'm retired so fuck it. right francis? a ship to drive would be the way to go friends or not then i could go skiing on a salmon too but...

not todaa oh mortal 1 bcuz 2dae is knot there dai as well

i care not what i think for today you saw pigs fly. oh yes you did.

so im thinking about surfing and personalized custom shoes for sleeping. but most of the time not. most of the time is away so thats fine for shoes. mostly.

texacajun gumboil

Have you heard oh noo, but bet it's good for you too like the side of melted butter on hot pepper cornbread part not to mention the wow factor of dining in faux posh Houston digs at the Big Ass Mall with a simple air of laid back arrogance as opposed to say, Dallas with it's britelitebigcitious elegance and conspiracy theorists lurking in every one-eyed sedan on the street after dark suggesting once again that mega-metro trends will probably be the death of us all if the food or the snipers don't kill us first.

hell bound

if we had listened to them in 1971 we might not be where we are now. if we hadn't let them lie to us as to why we are fighting this time around too, we might not be where we are now. if j.f.k. hadn't been killed, we might not be where we are now. if nixon hadn't been elected, we might not be where we are now. if bush hadn't been re-elected, we might not be where we are now. if enough people had said no, we wouldn't be where we are now.

Winter Soldier: America Must Hear These Vets' Stories

suck x suckfest

Lo these many days I've waited for the crowded streets to despair and disgorge their crawling multitudes in an out of townerly direction. My table is never clean and the waitress always surly. I would have tipped her if she had brought me all my change from that 10 spot but the 50 cents she kept cost her a dollar. I left the waiting list unattended for I care not, the atmosphere poisoned by second rate art. fucking austin...
The voices are insincere and overly loud, pointless to a fault. The music is dramatic and raw and utterly devoid of meaning, the bands being full of themselves upon their stage of irrelevancy and me anxious for them to leave and take their doting fawning fellatio devotees with them. Pierce your labia elsewhere please and hey you, yeah you, get the fuck out of my way before I cold cock your boyfriend.
This town really sucks.

oh woe...

well evidently your pulse has gone the way of wayward youth since there's to be no way of getting a rise out of you short of setting your hair on fire and even then at your advanced age you probably wouldn't twitch what with not having a pulse and all. you see. on the other foot, you might be in perpetual swoon due to the accelerated pulse now positively puling through your pinhead. for that i can understand but the other, the not moving, waking up on the right side of the dirt is preferable and in fact encouraged. all knitting aside, woe behark you? moy beane prhaps or worst kiawkle to smoot. no way hose be. lot much to see time on and on. no news here, pretty much steady edifice. the moms is going down in flames keeping me busy picking up the pieces. glad i have the time now to deal with it. other than that, all over? the more things change, the more they stay the same: you never call, write or take me to lunch and it's always too noisy around here.

living in a yellow can o beans

"Flying" from Magical Mystery Tour might have been a good choice as an accompaniment to the restless wind inside a letter box.

NASA Launching Beatles Tune Into Space

if you have to ask

you probably can't afford it.
another campaign year grinding me to a nub in the dust of the iraqimolcajeti. i'm so numb, my ears are ringing and now the motherfucker, this bastard, this... comes clean and talks about how he use to drink too much and how his faith has pulled him through and it was only a few lies to get his way and only 4000 dead on our side so far and not to mention the fact the world hates him but jesus loves him cuz he told him so and addiction is bad bad bad and god's on his side and america is god's team and we have to watch over your shoulder america to be sure cause we have to know and lizard skin don't itch trust us even though it's been 7 years. if i was an immigrant i would leave on the next tramp steamer.
not listening to it doesn't make it any less true george. go ahead turn it off. change the channel. it's all hate tv, it's all a distraction from your pious sobriety eh? george. you dumb fuck.

plowshares into laptops

the rest of the story...

Frontline Blogger Covers War in Iraq With a Soldier’s Eyes - New York Times

just the facts

just what this country needs; just another dirty little war and just another 5 cent cigar

Michael Yon Online Magazine

fuck me to tears

...this is just the kind of shit that's leading the decline of civilization and good taste as we know it.

Spears' manager says singer has mental issues Entertainment People Reuters

gauge is stuck on zero

ah winter... another january cold snap set in. temperature just above freezing, dogs in and wife at work. whoa baaeebuh...
quiet day to the extreme. no phones, no neighbors. just a distant freight train to remind me there are others on the planet.
half way through 'war & peace' and countless cups of coffee. chocolate is running low however. maybe next week will i go forth to replenish same. gotta hand it to tolstoy. he sure knows how to describe wealthy tsarist era russian society with all the attendant angst and neurosis. the broken hearts and dreams and teenage sex. the women are beautiful, the men are dashing, everybody speaks french and belongs to the english club. it's a non-stop party and napoleon is just around the corner with his troops ready to take on the russian winter. what's not to like?

incident in the strait

whole thing kinda reminds me of the day they pulled the same stunt in the Tonkin Gulf and went wah wah wah all the way home. Lyndon says let there be no mistake and pow! look where that got us. glad somebody was really awake on that hormuz watch and was having a slow news day. one of those letter home deals that begin with "Guess what I did at work today dear. I almost shot a ski boat that was yelling at me on the radio. But wait, there's more. Captain comes on the bitchbox says stand fast. Don't want some Incident harking back 40 odd years of bad judgment nope. Calls over to the Royal Texaco Princess on an outbound slant and yep they heard it too in fact they hear it all the time Navy just some joker sitting on a hill with a pair of binocs watchin the traffic and steppin on you. relax the GQ already... and boats sez aye soir secure all hands smoking lamp is lit now sweepers sweepers, man yer brooms...
boy what a day. later."

either that or all the mail will be heavily censored like ours was and we will never hear the rest of the story unless paul harvey gets a hold of it or we make it up as we go which ever comes first.

http://www.truthout.org/docs_2006/011208C.shtml

it's just real estate kid

well shit here we are again another new year and i wasn't through with the last one. where's all this time going?
we got a runaway war, dangerous men in office, dangerous men running for office and dangerous people that will vote for them no matter what the fuck i do running dangerously amok. brinksmanship all around. god playing favorites of all things. what i want to know is is when's all this shit gonna stop? i bet it's a good bet sunday school's rules take over cause that's what they want. we are not here to introduce you to democracy, we're here to enforce it. that's the godly american way and god bless america and all ships at sea thank you very much.

i hit this plateau recently and i'm seeing real good, my skin fits and i'm okay with the old days because that's what they are.
i'm grateful i don't have a child in the war. it will never end this madness, this open to endless interpretation and conjecture this war, this stupid war. stealing a generation for downpayment. a government bought and paid for by the powerful and they know who they are fucking us.

but shit, it's a new year, maybe it will hold steady for a few months.

horsi unchained

"thought you might find this interesting if you hadn't seen it already coinul. a sad state of affairs but what are you going to do, re-up?

http://www.truthout.org/docs_2006/121707A.shtml

as an aside, my beef with the horses next door and the pigs that owns them continues and judging from law enforcement's response there's nothing much i can do 'cept stamp my foot and hold my breath. can't squeeze water out of the shower tile as they say whoever they is. the crazy woman aint got a pot to piss in so it's kind of a rock and a hard place kind of a deal. everything points to owner responsibility to fence in horses from the standpoint of the law as presented in the book but enforcing that appears to be the bone d'contendaire de jour as there doesn't seem to be a challenge to the oftsaid "free range county" excuse for not doing anything that resembles work w/o the merit badges for busting a giant meth lab or something to make it worthwhile so nothing gets done until a pickup full of teenagers plow into a 2200 lb pregnant mare on the road in a dark curve on a saturday night and break something. then it's "the owner must have moved officer, haven't heard or seen anything over there for a month" story that makes it to tv after 3 of the kids are taken off life-support and die. i digress...
to me it would be prohibitively expensive to fence that property for stock in the first place and not worth the aggravation in the second place and further more if one don't know what the hell one's doing when it comes to livestock and tries to raise them by proxy then one should be shot for being stupid.
you know, you think, "move to the country and get away from it all", yeah get a little privacy, peace and quiet, the good will towards men routine kicks in and what happens, the stuff i'm trying to hide from follows me out here and squats next door like randy quaid in that silly ass christmas movie.
ooh this just in, the owner wants to meet me at the breaches in the fence so she can fix them. looks like it's going to be fence pliers at 3 paces in the morning.

...to be continued..."

but wait there's more, read on. if you must.

"shellsden@hotmail.com

Spoke to Shelly tonight. She said to call her (before 9 in the evening, email her, go see her this weekend and show her where along your fence line the horses are getting out. She will fix. If you know anybody that wants to buy the horses (the momma and her baby anyway), she is willing to sell them. Don't know the price. This is what she said. Above is her email.

I did tell her again, how upset we all were and about all the damage her horses have caused here and at your place. I also called and left another message for Tommy Cooper today. I will be calling him and leaving messages every single day I see these horses on our property from today forward. I also told Shelly I would have no problem getting him to come out and pick them up if we get them penned up again.

They were eating out of my feeders today and knocked several down and caused even more damage.

Don't know if this will do any good, but I tried. Chris is going to call her again when he gets home."

two more installments from the ongoing horse opera. mine to my lawyer friend and one from my sister n law to me. progress is slow out here and so it goes... uphill both ways in the snow barefoot.

a horse by any other color

i shot a horse in the yard last night. hit that mare so hard the projectile ricocheted into the side of the house thwack! made her colt jump mama mia what was that...
mare did the "omigod somebody shot me" routine and disappeared ass last into the dark. she's a dark horse. she's still out there tonight freezing mad.

this wristrocket is wicked bad.

i'll be waiting...

scopings the drape

meh
i'm so fucking tired of this shit. i like being retired and i don't want to go back to some job. for what? self-gratification? nah. still gonna die with or without. i quit smoking but i'm still gonna die. i quit drinking but i'm still gonna die. i drive safe, got married, eat well and i'm still dying yet. no matter what happens it's always the same. i'm still gonna die.
that's why i aint in no big fucking hurry to get in a big fucking hurry to get to nofuckingwhere faster than i already am because after all... so get off my fucking back about it already and i threw my back out two days ago anyway so fuck off.

but my point was the background noise that has migrated past the threshold of auditory awareness like the ambient sound of dallas on a wet night is now forcing itself into my sleep and disrupting my chi making me grumpy and setting a restlesstude of spirit adrift behind my eyes. i hate it. it's very negative and deliberate in it's force and i can only hope it away for to lean into it would be to invite blooding and troubles around the house which is so unworth it. other solution would be to move further out.

still, reading helps and cormac mccarthy is one of my favorite writers. been getting my mind around delillo for a while now. pynchon, barth, marquez and others. english the way it really works, the way it really is, the way it really paints. i actually bought the latest edition of War & Peace a week ago and there it sits eyeballing me from the shelf like a mad russian. never read it but it's there, waiting for me to tackle this new translation as i find more time to stretch my neurons. thousand+ page tomes don't scare me and i think the translation will be interesting reading.
the weight gain is bumming but with the new togs for the dogs, traversing trail heads is becoming more routine and getting easier. i'm only 20 pounds over since i quit smoking but i aint used to it so i gotta get balanced better. the doctor says eh, could be a lot worse. keep humping the trail.
but if i have to i will go back to work but only if i absolutely have to one way or another i'm going to avoid punching a clock again.

horse latitude (caution)

"hey Jack glad you called. My cell phone is in limbo around the house and it usually just chirps for voice mail but today due to weather and sun spots, it didn't so I got your call late during a brief respite from the aforementioned solar storm. ahem... and sitting logged on corrupts the land line as well. No DSL in the boonies. so solly. Don't bother calling my office phone, I retired. nanny nanny boo boo and it's my birthday phhttttt...After I emailed you I did a little looking around and found some fine print statutes talking about free-range la de da that applies more to the roast fowl and grilled rib-eye of today than the days of ass-busting yore but depending on the precinct (in Texas) and the county commissioners in place, the burden of the property owner to fence in or fence out livestock (in this case horses) is up to the locals and again in this case, is that right?, even the county commissioners and judge I spoke with don't know for sure which it is in this precinct so my options are to get up in front of these yahoos on the 10th and get their attention and possibly pursue a lawsuit against my neighbor for, if nothing else, having the wrong kind of wire strung at the wrong height between inadequate posts in general disrepair and for stomping around and putting 1900 lb. foot prints on my septic field while eating all the grass off it or busting a cap in the head of every horse (8, count 'em, 8) that walks around the corner of the house. The latter doesn't seem much like an option. A thought occurred to me though a lawyer could maybe send one of those "within an inch of your Chapter 11" type letters like willy peter at 300 meters to help things along know what I mean Colonel? I really don't want to go to court with anybody due to the fact I have better things to do but, never say never. I just don't know the details for running this down. Anyway, I'll give you a call. Been a long time Jack and I need a good laugh from the Naval Infantry. I'm just kidding jeez you jarheads are so sensitive. Semper Fi already."

another related document in this ongoing horse opera. my buddy jack and me grew up in the same schools and were always friends in spite of his academic kickass that got him through Annapolis, Harvard Law and a couple dozen years in the Marine Corps.
his irreverence towards his own excellence always impressed me. he called me back and left a message; anytime anywhere anyplace. yep can always count on the Marines.

idiocratical

""I thoroughly disapprove of duels. If a man should challenge me, I would take him kindly and forgivingly by the hand and lead him to a quiet place and kill him." Mark Twain.

well today was one of those days where i set out to wreak maximum chaos and mayhem, inflict extreme prejudice in the execution of frontier justice as i see it and ended up with way more than i could have bought even if i could have afforded it. having gotten to the point of no return in my tolerance of stray horses i headed into lockhart to inquire about suing my idiot neighbor for damages her horses are causing. so i'm sitting there getting info from a clerk about speaking at a commissioner's court next month challenging some obscure law about caldwell county being a "free-range" county and whether my yard and septic field is considered free-range as well when in walks the judge hisself heading back to chambers from the men's room. after brief introductions all around, a 30 second spot pleading my case to the actual judge right there in the front office and giving my phone number to the clerk, the judge says he will speak to the animal control deputy about this free-range nonsense and takes his leave being the old cattleman himself and knowing a fucked up law when he smells one. so i'm standing there and the clerk says way to go and me, i'm out the door to lunch. damn i's good. no point in calling the minions for help, just go straight to the top i always say.now whether anything will happen in the next few weeks remains to be seen but i have rattled around the hall of justice and pulled the string of a judge w/o the benefit of an appointment before his bench or the accompaniment of an armed guard. i walk with angels and bad dogs. do not piss off the wrong guy. some people should learn these things. i am the wrong guy.
as usual."

I wrote the above Thursday afternoon in an email to an old friend after I got home and it sums up my general attitude this year towards irresponsible assholes that fuck with me but Mr. Clemens said it best and so i'll leave it at that.

galloping idiocracy

Well shitfire, I'm back. Been away for a month getting the new roof done and chasing the fucking neighbor's horses around my property and not getting anywhere with the sheriff's department probably going to have to submit everything in writing and hire a lawyer to sue a person who has no money. What are the percentages in that I ask ya. Dammit.
Retirement is agreeing with me but the neighbor is pissing me off and generally making herself very unliked around here not that it makes a bit of difference. Sometimes I just want to throw a burning bag of shit at her house. All of this makes me very tired.
I think I will take a nap...

shiney side up

Hooha day 2 of a re-roofing job on the domicile man this is a good thing. Double-lock standing seam 24 gauge metal roof would float if turned upside down. Front porch roof re-built, rain harvesting system incorporated to keep the plants happy with natural water crew of 3 working hard and fast like they know what they're doing. No rain in the forecast sky clear and @ high 70's manomanomano...

paper or plastic?

...and to think I almost forgot what today is. Why it's the one month anniversary of my retirement...that much ballyhooed event that launched me off the books.

lancing a blister in the dark

It's just simply amazing to me that anybody thinks the way they do. I mean really. "What the fuck?" you may ask and I would tell you in great detail if I knew the answers to that and other burning questions but I don't and I can only speculate and cringe and rage at the Stupids with their little Pinheads. I don't have any idea what it is I'm talking about and I'm trying to keep it that way but one thing is for sure, killing for peace is like fucking for virginity. They are both mutually exclusive and the cost of this adventure we are currently engaged in has already been discussed in far greater circles than the average browser will discuss here and nobody is sacrificing for the effort except the families of the dead now rotting and all they can do is weep so let's keep it that way.
There was no threat. There is no plot to invade America. There was only Katrina and her sister Rita and the boys over in the Corps of Engineers whose funding was cut off because there aint no percentages in the weather and George. Poor inarticulate George. Explosions and their body counts are far more predictable so lets practice elsewhere shall we?
Heat and auditory weapons that could be deployed and end the fighting overnight are kept back because why? Because it puts too much policy out of a job. Warfare is human nature as is profiteering from the vast expanse of destruction.

the old mousefart on a cotton ball trick

... so as i was sayin' yeah yeah i'll get used to this aural trespassing and carry on like i own de' place right, know what i'm sayin? just like livin under the Union Pacific trestle next to I-10 holmz no biggie right? get used to it. but...... i mean i still protest it aint what i signed on for says right here and it's a pisser know what i mean? and it aint asking too much to ask you to please shut the fuck up but what the hell you gonna do about it anyway? i ask ya. it's just a fucking pisser and that's just the way it fucking is anymore. fucking pisser...
shit! whaacher gonna do...

...but living out here immaculate in East Jesus de Cortez By the Bay has it's moments that eventually add up to it's worth all this for all that as long as all that don't kill us and more. but then it wouldn't matter anyway would it seeins how we'd be all dead 'n all so it must be worth it for the moment anyway right? that's all i'm sayin's all.

forest for the tree

So I'm sitting here thinking, man we bought this place, this little 10 acre slice of paradise 21 years ago and blew the doors off the pumpkins, glowed in the dark, laid down the law and broke it and generally hurt our 2 brain cells for years until the public started encroaching and we downsized our appreciation for Nature's Bounty so as not to embarrass ourselves and besides all that, we were getting older and wiser and it was time to slow down anyway and we wanted to not offend anybody. Well, why is it nobody else respects their neighbors and let's their animals and children careen out of control without a thought to the consequences? I am feeling cramped and crowded and aurally trespassed upon and there's nothing I can do about it except move but with all the blood sweat and tears that I poured into this place, I cannot and now I'm trapped in my own device. This wasn't how retirement was supposed to play out.
But in spite of all that...

The Gospel according to Moondog

...perchance to dream a Dream of a Thousand Castles in the Bold Aire, each with a Thousand Windows, opened by unseen hands and illuminating Satan's Wretched Creatures of the Dawn sprawled across the lawn spawned in Pathos and doomed to loathsome bedevilment Begone begone thy foul and wretched excess, thy wanton and vile excrement is upon thine heart, why doth thou torment so?

...make fast thyself to the Wings of Light and cast away thy Earthly bonds, to soar upon the Solar Breeze, breathless and coy...

...we are Prisoners of our own Design, reigning over a desolate landscape of broken Dreams and pitiful Aspirations. We plunder our childhood and awaken at Death's Door wondering of the Child we were and beholding a frail and gaunt form that can no longer see the Innocence and Beauty. It is but a short journey from the forceps to the stone, fraught with Horror and unspeakable Terror. Why then must we be left to such impotent devices floundering like carp?

...ah yes, to slumber and dream the Dream of the Dead. To awaken renewed, at one with the ties that bind as The Heart is to the Hunter, home from the hill home from the sea...

...so verily I say unto thee Grasshopper, so thy may know and see thy Path. Go forth into the Sweet Night and tread softly upon it's still waters. Open thine eyes and thy will see what thy need is all around thee and what thy want thy cannot have. If thy sow Ice, thy shall harvest Wind. Strive to shed thy Morbid Concerns and thy will find thyself Righteous and Wholesome.

Verily...