gun problem? what gun problem?

I don't have a problem. I have guns and don't become part of any problem. Cry me a river, get the drunks off the road.

willfull bliss

if the weather gets any better I'm gonna have to strip down to my skin and roll in the dirt, sling my rifle and go native for a little while. nothing more exhilarating than walking around in the woods naked and carrying a gun. it's easy. just put your boots on and the world opens up all sorts of possibilities

death comes in many colors

there are times I'm grateful I don't have kids and times I wish I had the experience of raising them. This is one of those times when I'm glad I don't have any. I've done enough baby-sitting for my brother and diaper changing to know my way around a brat when I see one. yesterday the family had yet another near tragedy when my 24 yr. old nephew totaled his 6th car in 8 years of driving and walked away again. my gawd I says to meself, is he lucky or just stupid. I really don't know. I think his guardian angel needs a vacation. whoa, the molecules are starting to vibrate as they go by... that's always a good sign

here we go again...

once more, another orbit around an obscure little class M star in an obscure little solar system buzzing around in an obscure little popcorn fart of a galaxy... Happy New Year earthlings! there's still time before our sun self-destructs. have fun in the meantime

the roof over my head...

remodeling project completed and the new biosphere within the domicile is superb. I am pleased and can rest now

another bug on the windshield bites the wind

the mill stone grinds slow but sure
and Time remains enslaved by Spheres
I sit in awe of the vast hum of it all
for these are Forces vast and make me small
but yet somehow they quell my fears
lift me up when I fall
and gently brush away my tears

internal sanctuary

the man cave and the woman cave are replete in their appointments and the birds are singing to beat the band...

shit shower and shave

they're gonna scrape out my cave in the morning and put in a new one two days later. then across the hall, another scraping of the girlie cave much to squeals of delight and levity

...home from the hill

remodel begins and cosmic shift groans to life

...the rainman cometh

the air is thick with anticipation as the humidity roils across window screens portending a liquid sky falling and causing clocks to run forward round and round while the third stone from the sun wobbles toward oblivion as poison spreads, riding on the backs of human folly silently killing. the monster finds us woefully unprepared and the bill is due. the Evil afoot is palatable, it clings to the skin, the clothes, the food, reducing this miracle of life in the cosmos to a dead speck of dust. our lives have been auctioned off by Industrial Greed Inc. and the power elites in their stuffed leather and paneled board rooms, insulated from reality, encased in their bubble of delusion. we are doomed.  

grid disruption

the negative ions swirling around my bio electrics on this windy day are causing mood anomalies only cured by ensconcing under cover and waiting with shorting bar at the ready and a curse upon my lips 

time springs forward

the hard assed cold has been banished for the most part as the rotational physics and orbital declinations take effect. i welcome the warmth because it renews my lagging spirit that's been depleted by cold, cracked finger tips, dry subfreezing weather and a wind chill that constantly beat the shit out of me on it's way by

here we go again...

alright sports fans fucked up midweek weather antics just around the corner

white stuff looks like primo peruvian flake

big whoop we got snow and ice and remain bunkered in with a profound sense of rejection of the notion of going anywhere on the road. supplies were packed in yesterday so there is no need to venture out without a head exam first

monday, monday cold wet monday

...how could thy be so cruel...

... cuz i'm sleeping in, crib is warm
and i know i aint no fool...

Bonny

my little baby girl so sweet and sensitive with a canine intellect that is both wonderful and problematic. she's the unruly kid in the back of the class that makes A's, wears leather and is too cool for school. must retain a firm hand until she gets it but she's getting it so on we go

1-11-11

don't have any idea how significant the date is but it's pretty neato torpedo anyway. my next favorite coingkydink will be 11-11-11. now how cool is that?

1/9/11

a week into it not counting the weekends this new orbit around the sun and on we go shedding our skins along the way haunting our own shadows and babbling excuses

hello 2011

alrighty then, glad to be alive. crawled out of the wreckage this morning to be greeted by loud fucking sunshine. pain reminds me i'm still here which considering the alternative is preferable. i shall endeavor to persevere once again.

come on down 011

so here we go another happy ending to another tragic year and none the worse for wear in this immediate sphere but God help the foundering for the sea can be a cruel mistress. I'm glad to be out of the wind now and welcome another new year

loco side spit

i survived today the very nightmarish conditions i so dread. saw many sad stupid things being committed by many sad stupid beings while awash in Allah's Tears at high speed on film so thin-

there but for the Grace of God go i upon that field of play with instincts so alive to return one day-

scowling for Jesus

got it down to a fine art; the art of the rude kiss-off. my holiday spirit is on hold until after the first of the year when that fat old maid January begins to whine. then all will be right in the world. everybody else is back to their miserable jobs and I'm not. meanwhile stay back 50ft. K-9 unit on board. save the sad tale for somebody that might care. I don't. if you listen real close, you can hear the tiny violins between my thumbs.
but oh how utterly compassionate you are you say so sarcastically and you wouldn't be far from wrong so now go away and bring me something useful.

dang me, dang me they ought to get a rope and hang me

we are not alone

I noticed today that my blog is being tracked and has been for some time it seems. hope you guys enjoy my drivel

people different from the rest of us are left to their own devices

...into another yearly immersion we go and mingle and chuckle and bubble and belch all for the sake of bright and shiny things

the international redneck approved birthday is upon us and for those of faith and perseverance; merry christmas why thanks, you too happy holidays and be careful out there the mall is insane ought to stay home but there's one more... dammit sold out.. aarrgh...

Newsome J. Grimly, et. al.

did you notice how the author descends into great illustrious detail of our common affliction and malady and in doing so reveals in miniature detail our very human and very soft, white underbelly that stands helplessly in the passageway of time?

ye gawds

november slipped right by under my very watching watchfulness while i was looking, as holiday and birthday crept away through the fogs and night lighting and random chaos like zephyrs and here it is again another 2 holidays pending before that old maid january sits down and begins to loudly complain about the neighbors like she does every year

the view is tiny

elevation for perspective purposes should always be with the other ones

lo the pale rider

it's glorious today feeling more alive than usual as the fever sheets dry and I cope while my mad horse gallops at full tilt across the plain of perception dusting the landscape with sweet tiny sparkles of no small importance in my gleeful wake

laborious day

resting and retired laboring no more, the path shines on as I make my way

you can stop shuffling your feet now

my mother died yesterday and it's 123 123 123 rest

of death and taxes...

my mother is dying in a slow motion kind of dance, a waltz with the famed puppet master of ceremonies himself he's beckoning and twirling and laughing with glee as he teaches my mother the steps 123 and 123 so you see it's easy once you let go... and 123 123 123 rest..
my mother is dying one frame at a time and it's 123 123 123 rest..

...and the beat goes on

oh the hemorrhaging has ceased alright with no guarantees and the corpses float the water fouled in square miles of cubic inch density and ghastly in scope as the Petroleum God extracts His due...

tis but a small speck

...and so it goes trudging trudging like refugees into the dim dusty uncertain future, weeping on our sleeves hearts in hand hoping beyond the horizon for redemption and salvation our faith severely tested patience worn thin our world slowly deflating like a bad tire poisoning the food chain leaving our thoughts aflame amidst the wonderment of such nonsense where is the divine intervention to stop it? aarrgh except there's no divine anything just the two brain cells left out and directed to procreate and nurture a lucid dream of affection

run away run away

Been awhile since I was here and there's nothing really new to comment on. The oil still pours, we still have 2 wars, Sarah Palin is still an idiot, Ann Coulter is still dangerous and Obama is still under fire. The moms is slipping away, her mind reduced to rutabaga and I'm coping with stress as well as I can. The key I think is being aware of it and to intellectualize it into portions that are more easily dealt with thus minimizing the pressure to overcome it all at once. Sometimes I think it will be a relief when this is all over.

the moms

Hallie, a scrappy farm girl from Corsicana when she came to Austin to study piano at UT right after the war, could read classical music and play like her hair was on fire. She met some knucklehead on campus one day who was fresh out of the Navy, dated him, married him and promptly followed him Out West where he was in a post-graduate program at UC Berkley. I surfaced and then we came back to Texas a couple of years later where my brother appeared.

She was the Mrs. Cleaver on the block (no pun intended) and ran the place with an iron fist since she had two sons to chase and their furry friends to chase off, a house to clean and vestments to iron and toilets to scrub and meals to fix and dishes and laundry and PTA and choir practice and scouts and taxi service ad nauseam. It kept her pretty busy.

The moms... what a piece of work; mentor, limo driver, chief cook, bottle-washer, ace batter and pinch hitter with a hair brush during the punishment phase and pastor’s wife extraordinare. She was a woman of many hats.

We never misbehaved in church (much) or the grocery store (very much) or other people’s homes (at all) and learned early on that it’s bad form to get caught anyway. She always got me up on Saturday to do the yard and didn’t care if I was dying didn’t want to hear it... she was quick with a band-aid for the bo bo, iodine for the puncture wound or enema bag as needed. It was straight to the doctor if we even looked like we were going to faint. A swim at Barton’s on a Sunday afternoon followed by pancakes and bacon or scrambled egg sandwiches with Miracle Whip at home and Bonanza on the tube before bed was a high point of the weekend. She made us go to bed early and then got us up for school, fed us lukewarm gruel, sent us off, dragged us to the doctor or the dentist whether we needed it or not, made us do our homework whether we liked it or not and, I’m happy to report, we’re none the worse for wear and I still like oatmeal. I might add that the moms knew exactly how to wield her favorite secret weapon for full effect. Her withering hiss “...just you wait until your father gets home...” worked every time. It was indeed a brilliant tactic to maintain law and order around the house short of bloodshed.

Mom was a good mom and the best mother we ever had. She knew which buttons to push, when to take our temperature, when to feed us and when we needed a hug. She deserves a medal. And many hugs.
She was a great friend to those she knew and loved and was a more than generous mother and grandmother to us and the kids. I credit her for a lot of lessons learned growing up. Sadly she was robbed a few years ago by dementia so what more can I say? She has found the peace she deserved.
We love you mom.

40 mph out of the northwest

shit... this weather blows. the ions of spring are fucking with me again. at this point I say: my kingdom for the horse latitudes! becalm me so I can sleep please just make it stop.

bright and shiney

After yesterday the weather, being schizophrenic as usual, left behind today a crisp and clear new light that's hard wired to the voices within. They are all in their places with bright shining faces. A calm has appeared like an early warning. I wait and watch.

the sky is crying...

The fluid runs black against the tarmac and spreads like fibroids across brain matter while my mood reflects images of my day.

...dem bones, dem bones, dem lovely bones...

I find solace in the cemetery. There's no Frisbee golf and dogs running amok, no chatty Kathies or cyclists in tights. Only weedeaters and bobcats roam the grounds.
There is peace among the dead, the grateful dead.

So where to now St. Peter?

...papers, papers please, papers... rio de daginnero, papers... frenkfert... papers please, blin... papers please...

technology 1 me 0

Sprint 4G is coming to Austin soon among other select cities in Texas so I'm thinking next year I can upgrade to a 4G phone and really zoom. One of my perks is I can upgrade every year w/o contractual problems. Trying to squeeze all this in while I can you know. I'm not a complete Luddite. Of course there's never a free lunch really, they just want you to think that when you sign up for all this stuff that's "unlimited" but I like to think I'm getting what I'm paying for, inflated or not and I'll find the time to use it. Oh sure.
On a good night at home, which is almost all the time, I will go outside and burn incense and pray to the cell tower gods for cell tower offspring to form nearby. But WTF, I got a PC so I don't need no stinkin phone at the house anyway. What was I thinking?

There's a lot to research and I have to say other than the keys being too small to suit me, the blackberry is a serious device and a cool one for an old guy. I'm staying with Sprint because I am and I like the service and bla bla bla... next year I'll see what they're offering in 4G.

Upgrade! yay...

I will however resist an Ipod because I like hearing what's going on around me instead of being plugged into some jam and stepping off the curb in front of a speeding bus. Especially before the song's over and besides who wants to be remembered as that smear over there on the pavement?

Send in the clones

I sit and hide among alien life forms known as soccer moms and Sarah Palins mostly but sometimes Firstdudes all with their devil spawn in tow and I wonder about those brain cells that were left behind in their other pants back at the cave... no wait wait wait, never mind...

the moms

I saw my mother's pilot light blow out. She's been robbed and I can do no more. It's the saddest thing I've ever seen.

cracklinberries

the bee's knees, the king's fingers, the egg in your beer. what a great idea getting smarter...

crackenberry

First post from the pocket world. Big whoop!

Crackberry rools

not your father's telephony

who's your gerontologist?

The moms is going down fast. Moved her to Lake Travis today. By the time I'm ready for the pasture I'll be a fucking expert on Medicare and gerontology.

slow fade to black...

zaphi dell

so well what the fuck here we go again another split splat ration of 365 shots at the big time and we're coming and going with as much as ever and what the fuck you gonna do laugh or cry I mean what the fuck and here we go again but god how I love it along with all it's available options

happy all around again earthlings and peace if ya unt to...

jalopathy

it's the old age setting in, the droopy ears, the turkey waddle, sagging butt cheeks, the man tits, south-bound teeth and the otherwise flaccid self chugging along into the sunrise with tincans crossing at 2k yards off the starboard bow dogging down the datum and dealing in clogged arteries to the end of one launch after another that gives it away.

jalopathy... the getting old part. the dysfunction junction story as told by the passing Interstate on it's way either way but away don't matter where just somewhere. else.

because aging has no plausible deniability, no excuse nor alibi and gravity's cold hearth is the death grip promised to us all at sunrise on the gunline just the same, aged or not, live it up then says I

and from what I can tell there's no getting out of this thing alive no matter how hard you scratch at the lid. they can't hear you and you're only using up all your oxygen. good night...

chili today, hot tamale

pot o red on the stove, weather posed and faucets bunkered in for the onslaught. the first bug killing freeze is hitting the red zone in 12 hours and carries the threat of brain lock side effects.

oh watch out

hatchday

Strike me pink! Happy Birthday to me to me Happy Birthday to me too yay!

Awwwwriiight...

...day five

never had a bacterial infection like this before and it has had me beat to shit... just a few days left on a thrice daily antibiotic and 10 more left a twice daily antibiotic. fever dreams at night have played out like passion plays about good vs bad in the context of bacteria vs anti-bacteria in human form and scaffolding climbing at great heights, bare foot on greasy surfaces in the rain and low lighting and being watched... all very weird but today I feel better. a couple of sinking spells and fades earlier but still better.

all because, in my opinion, of another recent gone south tooth extraction on top of the first one that's unleashed a murderous horde of bacteria into my blood stream. it gives one pause since the mouth is pretty much the bellwether of the overall health of the system. as a cautionary aside: pay attention to your mouth---

but on the other hand it was probably dirty water coming off my dog after a dip in the tank full of E. coli in the cold darkness.

dead calm, azure sky and 78 degrees

today has been an award for good behavior. am humble and grateful for the precious crumbs of pricelessness tossed my way perhaps as an afterthought we know not but i feel a father's love through the fog of death still these many years after the war and relish my opportunities some squandered some cashed none ever fully realized and appreciate what an unfulfilled life can be like when directed by a third party so to all God's chillen i say, "Man Up!" and do your own thing ding dong...

turn me on deadman, turn me on deadman...

it arrived, finally after waiting over 6 weeks it arrived: the complete works, digitally remastered by the best rock and roll band in the world ever: The Beatles. This is the Holy Grail of Western Music in the 20th century and their influence runs deep in everything we hear today. I am humbled.

...with the sound of music...

...yes am alive in the hills and feeling very different than a week ago in fact feeling better than I've felt in many months, several years in fact. Low grade infection been holding me back. EKG next month and a fluid check under the hood and whip it, whip it good.

antibiotics are kicking all kinds of ass including mine but the only easy day was yesterday and I'm in fierce hot pursuit of the bad guys and heading them off to save the world.

yay me

zombieland

...so I'm home today after some surgery and staying nauseated from antibiotics and can't hold down any solid food and generally feel half dead while having hot and cold flashes and dry heaves and loss of appetite. I need to shower and shave but don't feel up to it.

the one you never saw coming

...the sky is falling and bending my car and crushing me into the metal and foam rubber and crushing the metal and foam rubber into the asphalt and crushing me right into the dirt and metal and foam rubber and the ground and stuff and crushing some more into the ground again along with everything else I mean what are you going to do? there's no time time to ponder it's crushing me...

just never know about that well placed charge that comes strolling into your nightmare

obviousness (sp)

i just love this fucking bullshit nothing better to do but glean from surrounding atmosphere know what i mean jean things are not what they seem ding dong baybuh honey bunny butter say that five times fast---


I'm called upon to parent in my own dottage o noes me thinks what next

so I press on...

aaand dodge things @ the same time____* aaand...

the air around me is taut, the root hairs vibrating when I take to the surface because what's next is crisp and done and gone and so--

and

so I press on...

*&@^%$&+)(!!

"I have found solace in profanity unexcelled even by prayer."

Mark Twain

...and further more

I will however scream at your dead momma about this stupid fucking war b' God!

If she aint around I'll scream at your dumbfuck asshole daddy fuck you dipshit!

and if that aint good enough for you well by fucking god

don't even get me started yelling @ you asshole motherfucker no good prick bitch sorry-ass cunt!

I'll fucking clean your plow. No doubt about it. I can reduce you you stupid bitch! Try me.



aarrgh




must be the war again...

again no complaints

I mean if I could talk to the animals and they go 'huh?' it would be a merkle.

Sometimes more often than not it don't mean doo doo

My dog loves me to death and likewiseacre and that's it mostly

She's a good dog that one

I'll cry over her corpse

one of these days

again real soon

got nothin to bitch about

so I'm headed into my 24th month sans a job other than looking alive and responsive to outside stimuli and as I was saying to myself a little while ago this not having to work for a living now and staying upright in the white water in spite of it and generally keeping an eye on my six, is alright as long as the health holds without any manufactured termination if you catch my drift...

... have found that the less I have to deal with sitting in traffic the lower level my metabolism has to work which keeps the ol' blood pressure running like a Rolex which in turn feels weird to not be uptight but easy to get used to and it's a good damn thing to slow down and relax more since I got shit to do and it aint going to do it by itself and really I don't need anybody's permission see, so...

...and so it goes, another quiet day for me and Bonny hanging out waiting for mommy to get home with some yummy. Me and girldoggy may head out to town again this week since the weather's starting to cool somewhat and check out the latest. I feel a yin coming on for some fried chicken and waffles.

backdrafting blame

blame it on the war. blame it on bush and cheney and obama and lbj and nixon and kennedy and roosevelt and de gaule and truman and franco and pinochet and ike and hitler and stalin and lenin and pol pot and mao and the little short fuck in charge of north korea and bin laden and that guy saddam hussein, blame everybody but the voters who put us here and watch where that goes.

we have no one to blame but ourselves.

hot tin roof

I been having this epiphany here lately from living in these latitudes and suffering from summer heat oppression, which is very bad this year and it's about all I can do to withstand it without going mad... an epiphany sired by the worse drought in my day sort of but not when it comes to solutions falling out of the air..

...problem is I don't have a solution except move up North Country and that ain't gonna happen because that's not a solution after I think about the snow and dirty ice build up, slick roads, tire chains, 4x4's dead batteries, broken pipes, sinusitis and heavy-ass coats. Not an option. Did I mention sub-zero wind chill factors and frozen lakes and frost bite?

Next best thing is to swim early, run the a/c like crazy and stay out of the sun. Come this winter I can break out the nylon wind breaker over my crocs to keep the rain off. yeah baby... we wear crocs year round.

That's my epiphany and I'm sticking to it.

it's the stupid, stupid...

all this carrying on I swear, we are on the best track I've seen in my short life and I don't understand why some people are screaming because yes you have to spend money sometimes to fix a problem when doing nothing sometimes is part of the problem and yep it's hurts and what are you going to do about it just sit there and fucking rot? pull the covers over your pointy little head and pretend it away? are you fucking out of your motherfucking mind crazy?

... just shut up all of you and go back to work and be glad.

4-2-4 Foxtrot

...watching my 6 for sure just in case.

http://www.stopabductions.com/

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.