Ouch time!
Tuesday, January 31, 2006
Moving Day
Dave, his pregnant wife Jen and son Will were moving. While they had moved a great deal of their things, stuff was still there.
They asked for volunteers for the job. I wound up having the day to help them.
Their house was mostly empty. The obstacles that were the most difficult were:
the sectional sofa that, even with four beefy guys lifting it was, well, a challenge through not narrow stairways. The practical solutions was cables run over like straps, carrying the section gurney style. I'm not a beefy guy, those more able were the lifters there.
Piano. It wasn't too difficult, but if you haven't lifted one, especially without the wonderfully available piano movers, it is a "treat". The piano is long and the ramp onto the moving van was not long enough to be a slow incline.
The packing went well. Some things were there long enough that -- one forgets how to disassemble them. It was, uh, interesting ... the crib took some thought.
The best thing to move, most of all, was the cement planter, which Dave was, I think, not so happy to have to take with them. I think it was only 4 x 4 feet, like 4 tons x 4 tons. With all of us lifting it onto a truck, it was still an unhappy move. It could have snapped under its own weight.
Their transitional move went okay. I wasn't able to help them to their new home.
They asked for volunteers for the job. I wound up having the day to help them.
Their house was mostly empty. The obstacles that were the most difficult were:
the sectional sofa that, even with four beefy guys lifting it was, well, a challenge through not narrow stairways. The practical solutions was cables run over like straps, carrying the section gurney style. I'm not a beefy guy, those more able were the lifters there.
Piano. It wasn't too difficult, but if you haven't lifted one, especially without the wonderfully available piano movers, it is a "treat". The piano is long and the ramp onto the moving van was not long enough to be a slow incline.
The packing went well. Some things were there long enough that -- one forgets how to disassemble them. It was, uh, interesting ... the crib took some thought.
The best thing to move, most of all, was the cement planter, which Dave was, I think, not so happy to have to take with them. I think it was only 4 x 4 feet, like 4 tons x 4 tons. With all of us lifting it onto a truck, it was still an unhappy move. It could have snapped under its own weight.
Their transitional move went okay. I wasn't able to help them to their new home.
Ages
Monkeyjack, when in high school looked like a middle schooler. He also looked young. This once enabled him to get out of a ticket -- looking like a new driver.
I looked old in high school. Monkeyjack's early-developing cousin thought I was thirty-five. Boy! His cousin was not a good mix with horny teens. She was young, 14, but looked, well ... curvy. Too curvy for a 14-year old. We were around 17-18.
Monkeyjack always got carded and I never got carded. I still look about 5 years older than I am.
In that I looked old enough to buy, say liquor, earlier than I should, I never took this opportunity. I was too scared, chicken, whatever.
I looked old in high school. Monkeyjack's early-developing cousin thought I was thirty-five. Boy! His cousin was not a good mix with horny teens. She was young, 14, but looked, well ... curvy. Too curvy for a 14-year old. We were around 17-18.
Monkeyjack always got carded and I never got carded. I still look about 5 years older than I am.
In that I looked old enough to buy, say liquor, earlier than I should, I never took this opportunity. I was too scared, chicken, whatever.
We didn't start the fire
Oh, wait ... yes we did!
Monkeyjack and I were the only ones to have Apple computers in 1988. So, we were intersted in file-sharing, that's how we met.
Hey, who's [my name]?
Look for the guy with his shirt open with a full beard and hair hanging out. Keith found me with no problem.
While file-sharing, an inspired thought came about ... why not start that wad of paper on fire?! Why not then?
Light ... hold ... ouch, fire! Fire! Fire!
Run to toilet flush the fire. Wow! That was pretty stupid.
Monkeyjack and I were the only ones to have Apple computers in 1988. So, we were intersted in file-sharing, that's how we met.
Hey, who's [my name]?
Look for the guy with his shirt open with a full beard and hair hanging out. Keith found me with no problem.
While file-sharing, an inspired thought came about ... why not start that wad of paper on fire?! Why not then?
Light ... hold ... ouch, fire! Fire! Fire!
Run to toilet flush the fire. Wow! That was pretty stupid.
My last trip to Denny's
I only went there twice. Circa 1990?
It was late, we were all hungry, probably in the north part of town when we all went to Denny's. Good food -- not present. Service -- tardy. Stupidity -- common.
Most memorable was EM talking about a fun thing with holding your wrist in pain with "boisenberry jam on it."
Boisonberry, how very common.
EM is also known as, the close talker ... uh, hey! Could you like, not be 4 inches from me when you talk?
He also had a brother who I saw twice. His brother had the Joker character from Full Metal Jacket, 1000 yard stare. He looks like someone you wouldn't approach.
It was late, we were all hungry, probably in the north part of town when we all went to Denny's. Good food -- not present. Service -- tardy. Stupidity -- common.
Most memorable was EM talking about a fun thing with holding your wrist in pain with "boisenberry jam on it."
Boisonberry, how very common.
EM is also known as, the close talker ... uh, hey! Could you like, not be 4 inches from me when you talk?
He also had a brother who I saw twice. His brother had the Joker character from Full Metal Jacket, 1000 yard stare. He looks like someone you wouldn't approach.
More eggs, more fun
In most school systems there is the fragility test of protecting an egg from certain disaster when dropped. The students each have a couple of days to put a raw egg in a container to protect it from a fall.
Enter factor two: a teacher who, doesn't like you. She is the teacher for this science class.
MR had the misfortune of not being on her 'good' list. I didn't see it, but he reminded me of her special glee in flinging it horizontally to gain momentum having it destroyed. Gee MR ... you get an F. Thanks for the fair assessment!
She tried mightily to cast mine to the same fate, but it survived somehow. I talked too often and found her class to be ... uh, boring. I was probably deserving of her animosity. Frightening as that was, there was a common substitute teacher for her: Mrs. Burk, who we lovingly called Burp. She was loud, foul, and hated everything to do with people -- my perspective at that time.
Fianlly, you throw into that class, when alternately reading sections, M C who read much like grass growing. Syllables lasted days. Reading a paragraph was, well, not necessary punishment for us all, really.
Enter factor two: a teacher who, doesn't like you. She is the teacher for this science class.
MR had the misfortune of not being on her 'good' list. I didn't see it, but he reminded me of her special glee in flinging it horizontally to gain momentum having it destroyed. Gee MR ... you get an F. Thanks for the fair assessment!
She tried mightily to cast mine to the same fate, but it survived somehow. I talked too often and found her class to be ... uh, boring. I was probably deserving of her animosity. Frightening as that was, there was a common substitute teacher for her: Mrs. Burk, who we lovingly called Burp. She was loud, foul, and hated everything to do with people -- my perspective at that time.
Fianlly, you throw into that class, when alternately reading sections, M C who read much like grass growing. Syllables lasted days. Reading a paragraph was, well, not necessary punishment for us all, really.
Science of egg tossing
Really, there is a science in it. First, realize that eggs splatter in a wide pattern. Eggs, no matter how fresh, stink immediately after opening and they don’t smell any better with age. What to do; what to do? I know! Let’s play egg baseball. If you haven’t play this game … try it!
First, the batter should be well protected from the spray. I had an old shower curtain – that’ll do! Stand and get your proper stance.
There’s the pitch! Strike, an unceremonious death of an egg.
Pitch. Hit! The hit looks like the end of a comet! It spray everywhere, barely touching the batter. The pitcher, me .. was wearing some. MR called for another egg.
I tossed it and MR hit it with fury. The spray went farther – to the porch – not bad!
I believe I tried it and the egg all went on me. I stunk, both in talent and in smell.
At some later time, I grabbed some eggs and tossed them to someone in the lawn through the back door. Their catching it was astounding. TS tossed it back. I dodged it deftly and it splattered on the linoleum. I laughed about it. TS walked in and MR was there. They were stunned by my comic running in place on the slick of eggs the lay on the linoleum. MR claimed that it seemed like a minute of me constantly running trying not to slip on my face or back. I succumbed to gravity and fell backward. I wasn’t awarded applause.
First, the batter should be well protected from the spray. I had an old shower curtain – that’ll do! Stand and get your proper stance.
There’s the pitch! Strike, an unceremonious death of an egg.
Pitch. Hit! The hit looks like the end of a comet! It spray everywhere, barely touching the batter. The pitcher, me .. was wearing some. MR called for another egg.
I tossed it and MR hit it with fury. The spray went farther – to the porch – not bad!
I believe I tried it and the egg all went on me. I stunk, both in talent and in smell.
At some later time, I grabbed some eggs and tossed them to someone in the lawn through the back door. Their catching it was astounding. TS tossed it back. I dodged it deftly and it splattered on the linoleum. I laughed about it. TS walked in and MR was there. They were stunned by my comic running in place on the slick of eggs the lay on the linoleum. MR claimed that it seemed like a minute of me constantly running trying not to slip on my face or back. I succumbed to gravity and fell backward. I wasn’t awarded applause.
Monday, January 30, 2006
wierd things to mail
your beard once you've shaved it. Monkeyjack was the "lucky" recipiant. Left with the question ... why?
Truth in advertising
If they want to make another big budget gay movie, they ought to just call it:
Gay movie! We've finally made it!
Don't dupe people into watching some dang cowboy love movie or anything like that. Call it what it is ... gay movie, because you could.
Do you want to know something ... theaters will sell even fewer tickets than they do now.
I guess, although MR would contend that I am very politically correct will write this: If you have to declare what you are, you probably aren't. If you have to yell into people's faces that being gay is great and everyone should try it, you are probably wrong. If you're gay, great! Go thata way! I don't want to see it and would be peeved to be in a theater, paying $7.50 only to be duped into the theme.
Last Temptation of Christ hid nothing in its title. If it offended you ... don't go! There would be an easier way of titling the movie, "B__________k Mountain." That would about say it, eh?
Awards committees have long been idiots. The fact that they are hailing this as a revolutionary, innovative movie because it's so gay, isn't surprising. What's sad is that people still watch the awards hoping that decisions are made based on merit, not vindicating the repressed.
Gay movie! We've finally made it!
Don't dupe people into watching some dang cowboy love movie or anything like that. Call it what it is ... gay movie, because you could.
Do you want to know something ... theaters will sell even fewer tickets than they do now.
I guess, although MR would contend that I am very politically correct will write this: If you have to declare what you are, you probably aren't. If you have to yell into people's faces that being gay is great and everyone should try it, you are probably wrong. If you're gay, great! Go thata way! I don't want to see it and would be peeved to be in a theater, paying $7.50 only to be duped into the theme.
Last Temptation of Christ hid nothing in its title. If it offended you ... don't go! There would be an easier way of titling the movie, "B__________k Mountain." That would about say it, eh?
Awards committees have long been idiots. The fact that they are hailing this as a revolutionary, innovative movie because it's so gay, isn't surprising. What's sad is that people still watch the awards hoping that decisions are made based on merit, not vindicating the repressed.
wrong movie
The students (all of 3rd grade) I think, took home a movie, Secret Garden. One student had the wrong movie in the case, Clueless, which is just too ironic.
Fucher Gie
"future guy", that wasn't what I originally read ... boy! That was really funny to think that a third grader wrote about me with that title.
The assignment: write about a person who has a talent. What's the talent and who is it? I mentioned that I can made some good predictions from seeing patterns, like relative time to change to green from red, from no given original time. I don't see the future or predict it, but rather predict outcomes based on patterns. This has not lent itself to poker or gambling.
The assignment: write about a person who has a talent. What's the talent and who is it? I mentioned that I can made some good predictions from seeing patterns, like relative time to change to green from red, from no given original time. I don't see the future or predict it, but rather predict outcomes based on patterns. This has not lent itself to poker or gambling.
Sunday, January 29, 2006
My member
a far cleaner way of writing what my catch phrase was for a long while -- thankfully more than two decades ago. An example of to the absurb level it was carried appears below.
Hey! What's that on top of that [Napa] truck?
That's my member! Actually, I used a more precise medical term. Whereas others might have favored old standbys for comic sense, I stayed true with (uh, "OPP" by Naughty By Nature discussed this).
On that same trip, Monkeyjack, his nephew and I pulled up to the window at Arbys. His nephew states, loudly, "Hey! She's got a mustache!"
She was embarrassed and we might have received, "special orders"
Hey! What's that on top of that [Napa] truck?
That's my member! Actually, I used a more precise medical term. Whereas others might have favored old standbys for comic sense, I stayed true with (uh, "OPP" by Naughty By Nature discussed this).
On that same trip, Monkeyjack, his nephew and I pulled up to the window at Arbys. His nephew states, loudly, "Hey! She's got a mustache!"
She was embarrassed and we might have received, "special orders"
Brave, Brave Sir Robin
TS, MR, and I were out walking around where TS lived at that time. It was late, summer, and of no big deal -- maybe 1985 /86 or earlier
A dark ran zoomed around the streets and stopped, turned and headed for us. Comically MR and I turned to each other, to collaborate with TS that it would be wise to run, but also comically we saw a cloud of dust in which he was leaving us ... a good, seemingly 10 seconds ahead of us.
We also took off, never in real danger, but it wasn't good to know that TS wouldn't alert us to any danger that he might have thought or felt.
Thanks!
A dark ran zoomed around the streets and stopped, turned and headed for us. Comically MR and I turned to each other, to collaborate with TS that it would be wise to run, but also comically we saw a cloud of dust in which he was leaving us ... a good, seemingly 10 seconds ahead of us.
We also took off, never in real danger, but it wasn't good to know that TS wouldn't alert us to any danger that he might have thought or felt.
Thanks!
Lethal Weapon
Lethal Weapon was on Sunday night. It reminded me of an attempt (not really singular) that [friend who shall remain anonymous] and I had trying to "sample" the movie when it was new on VHS.
What's great about this whole line of statements are: they cannot be substantiated evidentially
He brought over his VCR and set it on mine. Getting the thing timed together was a pain. We tried to use the remotes -- they each worked both VCRs ... Keystone copiers. They also didn't record the first several attempts -- 4 hours in total to record it.
There was copy protection on the tape in that there was a cyclic rise and fall in brightness and color (around 20 seconds) throughout the movie.
Without the protection we ran into some of the same silliness with Aliens, but fewer. In the course of it, I learned both movies quite well.
It mostly fails when you have the same VCR, mostly.
Next I can hear, "You're gonna arrest Timely Demise of Sanity"
What's great about this whole line of statements are: they cannot be substantiated evidentially
He brought over his VCR and set it on mine. Getting the thing timed together was a pain. We tried to use the remotes -- they each worked both VCRs ... Keystone copiers. They also didn't record the first several attempts -- 4 hours in total to record it.
There was copy protection on the tape in that there was a cyclic rise and fall in brightness and color (around 20 seconds) throughout the movie.
Without the protection we ran into some of the same silliness with Aliens, but fewer. In the course of it, I learned both movies quite well.
It mostly fails when you have the same VCR, mostly.
Next I can hear, "You're gonna arrest Timely Demise of Sanity"
Monkeyjack throws a big bash
at the cost of everyone there
He instructed me to get vodka. Why I chose the brand I did, made sense, I think because with the limited money I was given he wanted one specific item and all the remaining to be spent on vodka -- cheap.
Cheap I got -- too cheap!
By the end of the night 90% of the people had puked. His nephew came over with friends -- to filtch liquor and they did. One idiot kid got so smashed he forgot he could walk and dragged himself through the house, puking, then putting his hand in it. Step drag, stagger, stagger (Yellowbeard). A couple of people slept in the bathrooms. I walked out to the street and let go there. I woke in the morning to find the rooms filled with lying bodies ... like a mob shoot out ... no blood, but gore everywhere.
I left, but felt the worst I had ever felt. Hours later, while I was propped up on a sofa, I let in Monkeyjack and his at-then girlfriend. They reported that BBS-name Toejam had passed out on the loveseat sofa nd filled it --- filled it with barf. He also nicely broke it. Monkeyjack took all the cleaning supplies he could find.
Nothing really restored things to normal. The smell before I left / before the cleaning was less pleasant than uncleaned kitty litter. That was a bad, bad, bad, bad night.
He instructed me to get vodka. Why I chose the brand I did, made sense, I think because with the limited money I was given he wanted one specific item and all the remaining to be spent on vodka -- cheap.
Cheap I got -- too cheap!
By the end of the night 90% of the people had puked. His nephew came over with friends -- to filtch liquor and they did. One idiot kid got so smashed he forgot he could walk and dragged himself through the house, puking, then putting his hand in it. Step drag, stagger, stagger (Yellowbeard). A couple of people slept in the bathrooms. I walked out to the street and let go there. I woke in the morning to find the rooms filled with lying bodies ... like a mob shoot out ... no blood, but gore everywhere.
I left, but felt the worst I had ever felt. Hours later, while I was propped up on a sofa, I let in Monkeyjack and his at-then girlfriend. They reported that BBS-name Toejam had passed out on the loveseat sofa nd filled it --- filled it with barf. He also nicely broke it. Monkeyjack took all the cleaning supplies he could find.
Nothing really restored things to normal. The smell before I left / before the cleaning was less pleasant than uncleaned kitty litter. That was a bad, bad, bad, bad night.
Lest I forget -- braving the unknown
A stupid experience with X.
We (yuck -- painful memory there) were in bed when there was a slight noise somewhere. X was worried of the tangible and intangible. She looked and saw the dogs (four of them -- white trash ... redneck -- insert name here, they were all hers) looking in some direction at a wall, leading to the basement and the second floor.
[my nickname] "Go see what that is."
"No."
[nickname] "Look! The dogs are watching." (they were all looking in the same direction.)
"So?"
"Go see!"
Now ... we weren't living the best neighborhood at the time, and during the time that we were there we heard several shootings, one murder. I didn't think there was anything about which to worry, but her continued comments were elevated in pitch in anger and worry. I grabbed the nearest weapon -- a 4 inch diamond-tipped saw blade, broken. The things that make this funny require the following understanding:
We didn't have a lot of money, and she was bound and determined to spend what we had.
In order to save some money, the heat was kept down low ... 55 at night.
She insisted on my wearing ... the simplest things -- not forming a barrier between herself and me -- namely ... my hair was my PJs.
Now ... I stand, stark naked ... shivering in the sudden cold. X quickly cocooned herself with my exiting. I hunch over for warmth and to be "less visible" in the unlit house. I looked over and the dogs -- unsurprisingly now looked at the naked fool walking around. One licked her lips, as if to hide a laugh.
I made a two-minute look and shuddered back to bed. I reported finding nothing but that the dogs knew a funny sight when they saw it.
We were quite safe -- we had nothing to steal, the dogs didn't like strangers -- noisy too say the least. The locals, seeing the dogs, worried about them, despite my statements attesting to their not real wishing to hurt anyone.
We (yuck -- painful memory there) were in bed when there was a slight noise somewhere. X was worried of the tangible and intangible. She looked and saw the dogs (four of them -- white trash ... redneck -- insert name here, they were all hers) looking in some direction at a wall, leading to the basement and the second floor.
[my nickname] "Go see what that is."
"No."
[nickname] "Look! The dogs are watching." (they were all looking in the same direction.)
"So?"
"Go see!"
Now ... we weren't living the best neighborhood at the time, and during the time that we were there we heard several shootings, one murder. I didn't think there was anything about which to worry, but her continued comments were elevated in pitch in anger and worry. I grabbed the nearest weapon -- a 4 inch diamond-tipped saw blade, broken. The things that make this funny require the following understanding:
We didn't have a lot of money, and she was bound and determined to spend what we had.
In order to save some money, the heat was kept down low ... 55 at night.
She insisted on my wearing ... the simplest things -- not forming a barrier between herself and me -- namely ... my hair was my PJs.
Now ... I stand, stark naked ... shivering in the sudden cold. X quickly cocooned herself with my exiting. I hunch over for warmth and to be "less visible" in the unlit house. I looked over and the dogs -- unsurprisingly now looked at the naked fool walking around. One licked her lips, as if to hide a laugh.
I made a two-minute look and shuddered back to bed. I reported finding nothing but that the dogs knew a funny sight when they saw it.
We were quite safe -- we had nothing to steal, the dogs didn't like strangers -- noisy too say the least. The locals, seeing the dogs, worried about them, despite my statements attesting to their not real wishing to hurt anyone.
movie review
It's unlike me to review movies, because I generally don't like them. The last two new / semi-new movies that I liked were:
40-Year-Old Virgin. If you're easily offended, don't see it. I would say that many adults would like it ... the profanity is strong in this one. A funny, quasi-unconventional section of this movie is, "Do you know why you're gay" bantering between the two friends.
Crash (2005) was an okay movie. Its intent is to address racism and wrongdoings because of those prejudices, each character being changed from circumstances and therein the racism comes out. A neat part of this movie is that there is no one leading character. I don't rate it high for most people's standards, but rate it fair 5 or 5.2 on a 10 point scale. That sounds low, but it's not so much. Unlike many videophiles I don't have a list of 2000 top 10 movies. I have very few ... less than 100, perhaps less than 50. The thought being twofold; how can you have two or more greatest movies; if all movies are nines or tens, are there middle ones?
40-Year-Old Virgin. If you're easily offended, don't see it. I would say that many adults would like it ... the profanity is strong in this one. A funny, quasi-unconventional section of this movie is, "Do you know why you're gay" bantering between the two friends.
Crash (2005) was an okay movie. Its intent is to address racism and wrongdoings because of those prejudices, each character being changed from circumstances and therein the racism comes out. A neat part of this movie is that there is no one leading character. I don't rate it high for most people's standards, but rate it fair 5 or 5.2 on a 10 point scale. That sounds low, but it's not so much. Unlike many videophiles I don't have a list of 2000 top 10 movies. I have very few ... less than 100, perhaps less than 50. The thought being twofold; how can you have two or more greatest movies; if all movies are nines or tens, are there middle ones?
Knowing local pervs
Welll, I wouldn't say know that well, but where I once worked, he was a regular. He was a local actor and advertisement narrator. I found it startling that he was a child pornography collector.
c/o adult girl relationship website
The wife of a Fort Wayne actor who impersonated George Washington was sentenced Wednesday in U.S.... Period actor?s wife gets 4
The wife of a Fort Wayne actor who impersonated George Washington was sentenced Wednesday in U.S. District Court to nearly four years in prison for helping her husband receive child pornography through her computer.
Yolande Saunders, 54, pleaded guilty in August to one of four charges: aiding and abetting in the sexual exploitation of a minor. Three other related charges were dismissed as part of a plea agreement.
Judge Theresa L. Springmann sentenced Saunders to the low end of the penalty range with 46 months in prison followed by three years on supervised release, during which Saunders must register as a sex offender with the state, enroll in counseling for sex offenders, undergo psychological and behavioral assessments for sex offenders and provide her probation officer with any financial records requested.
Additionally, Saunders is not allowed to consume alcohol or any mood-altering substance, have personal access to the Internet or possess any pornographic materials involving anyone younger than 18.
Saunders and her husband, Steven Black, 62, were indicted on several similar charges stemming from a 13-month investigation. The indictments alleged the couple possessed pornographic images involving children and most of the images involved children younger than 12, including one with a child between 18 months and 24 months old. Both indictments state that the images were sadistic, masochistic or violent in nature and that the pictures depict several sexual acts.
Black is serving an 87-month prison term after he pleaded guilty to possessing a picture of a young girl having sex with an adult man. He agreed to testify truthfully in any other trial through his guilty plea.
Saunders pleaded guilty to using her computer April 13, 2003, to receive a sexually explicit video depicting a child younger than 12 participating in various sexual acts. In admitting guilt, Saunders had to admit she used the Internet to download the files.
Saunders forfeited a computer and its related equipment, 85 musical CDs, camera, a cable modem and 22 floppy disks. Black already forfeited 47 CDs containing child pornography, nine videotapes and other belongings seized by police when they searched their homes.
The prosecution told a judge in February that if Black's case had gone to trial, it would have presented evidence that suggested Black had at least 200,000 images involving child pornography.
Black was known for his portrayal of George Washington locally and regionally at events such as the Johnny Appleseed Festival. His Web site stated he traveled to Pennsylvania, Ohio and other areas of Indiana to perform.
c/o adult girl relationship website
Friday, January 27, 2006
Harvey with Jimmy Stewart
I've wrestled with reality for 35 years, Doctor, and I'm happy to state I finally won out over it.
Dealing with the obstinent
Cross that line!
[step]
That one!
[step]
What is teaching the defiant like... that for 6 hours.
[step]
That one!
[step]
What is teaching the defiant like... that for 6 hours.
Madness in many forms
He's gone mad!
[echoed several times!) disapaiting in the distance as Hiss slithers away from John's stick beating.]
Arsenic and Old Lace
If you have not seen this wonderful old B&W movie, do! It's great!
Short Round from Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom
an avoidable movie
Aldous Huxley
Lewis Carroll
Baltasar Gracian
Terminator
The Frayed Ends Of Sanity
copied and usurped much to the displeasure of Metallica
Thanks guys, for all the work for a while. Hint -- don't win favors with the prison population. They are disposable (and not so heroes) and don't have income to buy your works.
[echoed several times!) disapaiting in the distance as Hiss slithers away from John's stick beating.]
Madness runs in my family. It practically gallops!
Arsenic and Old Lace
If you have not seen this wonderful old B&W movie, do! It's great!
He no mad ... he crazy!
Short Round from Indiana Jones and the Temple of Doom
an avoidable movie
You shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you mad.
Aldous Huxley
"But I don't want to go among mad people," said Alice. "Oh, you can't help that," said the cat. "We're all mad here."
Lewis Carroll
Better mad with the rest of the world than wise alone
Baltasar Gracian
Is he crazy?
In technical terms, he's a loon!
Terminator
The Frayed Ends Of Sanity
Never hunger
Never prosper
I have fallen prey to failure
Struggle within
Triggered again
Now the candle burns at both ends
Twisting under schizophrenia
Falling deep into dementia
Old habits reappear
Fighting the fear of fear
Growing conspiracy
Everyone's after me
Frayed ends of sanity
Hear them calling
Hear them calling me
Birth of terror
Death of much more
I'm the slave of fear,my captor
Never warnings
Spreading its wings
As I wait for the horror she brings
Loss of interest,question,wonder
Waves of fear they pull me under
Old habits reappear
Fighting the fear of fear
Growing conspiracy
Everyone's after me
Frayed ends of sanity
Hear them calling
Hear them calling me
Into run
I am sinking
Hostage of this nameless feeling
Hell is set free
Flooded I'll be
Feel the undertow inside me
Height, hell, time, haste, terror, tension
Life, death, want, waste, mass depression
Old habbits reappear
Fighting the fear of fear
Growing conspiracy
Myself is after me
Frayed ends of sanity
Hear them calling
Frayed ends of sanity
Hear them calling
Hear them calling me
copied and usurped much to the displeasure of Metallica
Thanks guys, for all the work for a while. Hint -- don't win favors with the prison population. They are disposable (and not so heroes) and don't have income to buy your works.
Phony King of England -- c/o Disney
Oh the world will sing of an English King
A thousand years from now
And not because he passed some laws
Or had that lofty brow
While bonny good King Richard leads
The great crusade he's on
We'll all have to slave away
For that good-for-nothin' John
Incredible as he is inept
Whenever the history books are kept
They'll call him the phony king of England
A pox on the phony king of England!
He sits alone on a giant throne
Pretendin' he's the king
A little tyke who's rather like
A puppet on a string
And he throws an angry tantrum
if he cannot have his way
And then he calls for Mum while he's suckin' his thumb
You see, he doesn't want to play
Too late to be known as John the First
He's sure to be known as John the worst
A pox on that phony king of England!
While he taxes us to pieces
And he robs us of our bread
King Richard's crown keeps slippin' down
Around that pointed head
Ah! But while there is a merry man
in Robin's wily pack
We'll find a way to make him pay
And steal our money back
The minute before he knows we're there
Ol' Rob'll snatch his underwear
The breezy and uneasy king of England
The snivellin' grovellin'
Measly weasely
Blabberin' jabberin'
Gibberin' jabberin'
Blunderin' plunderin'
Wheelin' dealin'
Prince John, that phony king of England
Yeah!
A thousand years from now
And not because he passed some laws
Or had that lofty brow
While bonny good King Richard leads
The great crusade he's on
We'll all have to slave away
For that good-for-nothin' John
Incredible as he is inept
Whenever the history books are kept
They'll call him the phony king of England
A pox on the phony king of England!
He sits alone on a giant throne
Pretendin' he's the king
A little tyke who's rather like
A puppet on a string
And he throws an angry tantrum
if he cannot have his way
And then he calls for Mum while he's suckin' his thumb
You see, he doesn't want to play
Too late to be known as John the First
He's sure to be known as John the worst
A pox on that phony king of England!
While he taxes us to pieces
And he robs us of our bread
King Richard's crown keeps slippin' down
Around that pointed head
Ah! But while there is a merry man
in Robin's wily pack
We'll find a way to make him pay
And steal our money back
The minute before he knows we're there
Ol' Rob'll snatch his underwear
The breezy and uneasy king of England
The snivellin' grovellin'
Measly weasely
Blabberin' jabberin'
Gibberin' jabberin'
Blunderin' plunderin'
Wheelin' dealin'
Prince John, that phony king of England
Yeah!
Word of mouth from R. Lee Ermey
Gunny Sergeant: "There is no precession in grenades, so therefore, you can't count and throw."
So I'm pullin' the pin!
Daffy Duck
Angels With Dirty Faces
Yosemite Sam
So I'm pullin' the pin!
You wouldn't dare!
Daffy Duck
1, 2, 10! Take that you dirty animal!
Angels With Dirty Faces
You draw the straws! I'm a takin' the parachute! Geronimo!
Yosemite Sam
Only a madman would throw the switch
That's it! I'm throwin' the switch! No more sanity, ever!
Young Frankenstein
No! Not the third switch!
Throw it! Throw it I say!
Young Frankenstein
Eww ... you farted!
ha ha ha ha ha
Eww! You farted again.
Okay ... once is enough, twice is too much. First graders and talking about farting. If you don't stop it soon, it won't ever stop and the farting won't either.
I was not the farter, but that was the conversation.
Eww! You farted again.
Okay ... once is enough, twice is too much. First graders and talking about farting. If you don't stop it soon, it won't ever stop and the farting won't either.
I was not the farter, but that was the conversation.
I've seen you work there before
Only ... it wasn't you, but you look just like him.
Where are these clones?
Where are these clones?
brazen
I'll just take that wallet, in full view of all the other people in the room. -- the thought of a would-be thief today.
After many lies, I sent her to a higher authority. The wallet was recovered with no money missing.
And the thinking behind this was?
After many lies, I sent her to a higher authority. The wallet was recovered with no money missing.
And the thinking behind this was?
Thursday, January 26, 2006
Aren't you the guy
You know ... the guy.
Oh, yeah, right!
from I love you to death
I was asked, "Aren't you the guy that was playing basketball with that kid the other night?"
"Uh, no."
"I ... are you sure?"
"Yes. I wasn't the guy."
"He looked just like you."
Dang clones! I knew there would be trouble when the empire fell.
Friends Flambe
Monkeyjack and Scott were having a party. At that time I had two bags of liquor -- port-a-bar and mixed really bad drinks. I mixed a typical one and was drinking. I walked by the firepit and said, "This drink sucks!" I splashed it onto the fire.
Little did I know that the drink was, well, highly flammable. It roared and, I understand was orange enough to pierce the blinds and shine onto the wall. I don't think it had a sound.
My friends, now on their backs did make sounds, cursing me, the situation, and calling in pain from mild leg fires.
Uh ... oops! I could have done the fireball, I just didn't know it.
At some other event, I tried a flaming shot. I had a mustache at the time and, well, fire and hair don't mix. I didn't blow out the shot first or fast enough and I got to smell wonderful burnt hair the rest of the night. Yumm!
In a little known event, my X liked to cook chicken. At one time I did eat chicken. There was a mess of grease on the grill, as she had covered the grill with foil. It was flaming up and I thought that, after pulling the chicken, I would put out the flames with water. Dumb idea! It moved the flaming oil to -- the siding. I continued to spray the siding until the fire moved, now weaker to the porch. It eventually went out. I thereafter had a different approach to oil-based fires.
Little did I know that the drink was, well, highly flammable. It roared and, I understand was orange enough to pierce the blinds and shine onto the wall. I don't think it had a sound.
My friends, now on their backs did make sounds, cursing me, the situation, and calling in pain from mild leg fires.
Uh ... oops! I could have done the fireball, I just didn't know it.
At some other event, I tried a flaming shot. I had a mustache at the time and, well, fire and hair don't mix. I didn't blow out the shot first or fast enough and I got to smell wonderful burnt hair the rest of the night. Yumm!
In a little known event, my X liked to cook chicken. At one time I did eat chicken. There was a mess of grease on the grill, as she had covered the grill with foil. It was flaming up and I thought that, after pulling the chicken, I would put out the flames with water. Dumb idea! It moved the flaming oil to -- the siding. I continued to spray the siding until the fire moved, now weaker to the porch. It eventually went out. I thereafter had a different approach to oil-based fires.
newspaper
on one birthday I got, "[my first name] farts and blows out birthday candles!" Gee, thanks Dad! It was funny, certainly not what I expected. I think I was eight?!
death of a tooth
Odd, but true: I was working at a video store and they had the typical gumball machine in the vestibule. The vestibule was tiny and open often to the cold air of winter. I went out one night, got a piece of gum and it broke my tooth. Now, how could this be? It would be from the following three factors: old gum, cold gum, possible weakness of tooth.
I don't have tattoos. I don't wear jewelry. I have scars are marks of surviving stupidity. They include: brow cut -- glasses broken on ice; forehead scar -- slamming into corner sustaining concussion; three forearm grease burns -- discoloration of skin (lack of usable pigment; wicked-looking shoulder scar from surgery; right elbow burn mark from late infection during healing; two other surgery scars; permanent indentation to right thumb from large and deep razor blade cut (pushing on pointy end); mild scalp marks from foundry work (source of elbow burn); slight rise in left palm from stitches; and permanent red, raised mark on chest from Calli the cat.
Calli -- the musical Calle, who made noises when you held her, which she did not like. She let me know, in no uncertain terms, that she didn't want held. I have that mark still today (from 1989). I think my marks tell their own stories. I don't need tattoos.
I don't have tattoos. I don't wear jewelry. I have scars are marks of surviving stupidity. They include: brow cut -- glasses broken on ice; forehead scar -- slamming into corner sustaining concussion; three forearm grease burns -- discoloration of skin (lack of usable pigment; wicked-looking shoulder scar from surgery; right elbow burn mark from late infection during healing; two other surgery scars; permanent indentation to right thumb from large and deep razor blade cut (pushing on pointy end); mild scalp marks from foundry work (source of elbow burn); slight rise in left palm from stitches; and permanent red, raised mark on chest from Calli the cat.
Calli -- the musical Calle, who made noises when you held her, which she did not like. She let me know, in no uncertain terms, that she didn't want held. I have that mark still today (from 1989). I think my marks tell their own stories. I don't need tattoos.
Monkeyjack causes five cars to crash!
We were riding back from university and Monkeyjack tends to drive, well, dangerously*. We were stopped in traffic. There was a gap to the next vehicle. Naturally Monkeyjack should go 50 to catch up in the small space. That we did! I was thinking we were going a bit fast and slowing might be good, but I looked over. Monkeyjack is standing with both feet on the breaks. We weren't slowing, but the vehicle ahead of us did stop us.
I met the dashboard. Monkeyjack braced himself on the steering wheel. Well ... although a mess, he moved the car to the emergency shoulder. He was in the wrong. We had to wait for a cop to see the, now, three of us. The woman he hit wasn't too happy, but wasn't course. It was a busy section, so cops are often around.
His car was a mess. It bent the frame and there was some engine damage. Her car did sustain some damage ... body only.
A cop saw us and was turning around to meet us on the right side of the road. Some fool who knew the woman Monkeyjack hit saw her, but stopped looking while driving. That guy hit another person, sandwiched in between another she hit. The woman in the middle had some minor injuries (from her reactions) and her car was very badly damaged.
Monkeyjack crashes five cars. Nice one!
If I remember correctly, his car was never really the same and within a year, it was gone.
This same car took out a cement planter on someone's front lawn. Why would he be on a front lawn -- good question. He was transporting a cat. If you haven't done this fun thing, sans a car carrier, then you are in for a GRAND treat. I don't know of a cat that likes a car ride. I also don't know of any cat that willingly enters a cat carrier.
The cat, on the way to the vet, escapes in the car. Worried that he would be hurt, Monkeyjack tries to find the cat, but loses control of the car. It runs up the lawn and takes out a planter.
Bad news for him, because the neighbors (2 streets away) are royal jerks! Supposedly, the bricks are local but the mortar is from Florida. I don't get it. Anyway, the appraisal for damages is substantial, because of the rareity of the mortar. He got soaked and they got a new van. Nice!
* dangerous -- By far, I have the track record for most dangerous driving, is that I was weaving through traffic and speeding and slowing like a maniac. E. K. was talking with Monkeyjack about this jerk driver. He tried to meet up with him to give him a piece of his mind. The driver was me.
I met the dashboard. Monkeyjack braced himself on the steering wheel. Well ... although a mess, he moved the car to the emergency shoulder. He was in the wrong. We had to wait for a cop to see the, now, three of us. The woman he hit wasn't too happy, but wasn't course. It was a busy section, so cops are often around.
His car was a mess. It bent the frame and there was some engine damage. Her car did sustain some damage ... body only.
A cop saw us and was turning around to meet us on the right side of the road. Some fool who knew the woman Monkeyjack hit saw her, but stopped looking while driving. That guy hit another person, sandwiched in between another she hit. The woman in the middle had some minor injuries (from her reactions) and her car was very badly damaged.
Monkeyjack crashes five cars. Nice one!
If I remember correctly, his car was never really the same and within a year, it was gone.
This same car took out a cement planter on someone's front lawn. Why would he be on a front lawn -- good question. He was transporting a cat. If you haven't done this fun thing, sans a car carrier, then you are in for a GRAND treat. I don't know of a cat that likes a car ride. I also don't know of any cat that willingly enters a cat carrier.
The cat, on the way to the vet, escapes in the car. Worried that he would be hurt, Monkeyjack tries to find the cat, but loses control of the car. It runs up the lawn and takes out a planter.
Bad news for him, because the neighbors (2 streets away) are royal jerks! Supposedly, the bricks are local but the mortar is from Florida. I don't get it. Anyway, the appraisal for damages is substantial, because of the rareity of the mortar. He got soaked and they got a new van. Nice!
* dangerous -- By far, I have the track record for most dangerous driving, is that I was weaving through traffic and speeding and slowing like a maniac. E. K. was talking with Monkeyjack about this jerk driver. He tried to meet up with him to give him a piece of his mind. The driver was me.
Jim, necromancer
or animator of the dead:
A long-since dead Nova ... more air than metal or plastic. It had holes through the floor -- nice for meteorologists. How the thing was moving, other than on hills goes beyond me. I remember the nuts operation of changing the alternator, which required tools that fit between 2" gaps and the ability to draw it out through a maze and out the bottom. Despite the home repairs on it, it was dead. The seats had the mouse-eaten look of ages.
Mirrors were gone, holes throughout and the fenders were similar to demolition derby cars. The tires were bald and the electrical was iffy. Yet... to Jim, it was drivable. Here again, I call him the animator of the dead, for in human form, the Nova would have looked half-defleshed, missing 30% of the body mass, inching along on its mission.
His truck, later on, was another super iffy, patchwork of metal and quasi-metal.
Before the Nova was the Pinto wagon, equally as charmed as the Nova in every way, save that it was often used as a sleeping place -- in certain times. It had that real rustic feel to it. It didn't sound as iffy as the Nova, but much of the flooring was licence plates and other spare sheet metal.
Planes, Trains, and Automobiles
A long-since dead Nova ... more air than metal or plastic. It had holes through the floor -- nice for meteorologists. How the thing was moving, other than on hills goes beyond me. I remember the nuts operation of changing the alternator, which required tools that fit between 2" gaps and the ability to draw it out through a maze and out the bottom. Despite the home repairs on it, it was dead. The seats had the mouse-eaten look of ages.
Mirrors were gone, holes throughout and the fenders were similar to demolition derby cars. The tires were bald and the electrical was iffy. Yet... to Jim, it was drivable. Here again, I call him the animator of the dead, for in human form, the Nova would have looked half-defleshed, missing 30% of the body mass, inching along on its mission.
His truck, later on, was another super iffy, patchwork of metal and quasi-metal.
Before the Nova was the Pinto wagon, equally as charmed as the Nova in every way, save that it was often used as a sleeping place -- in certain times. It had that real rustic feel to it. It didn't sound as iffy as the Nova, but much of the flooring was licence plates and other spare sheet metal.
Planes, Trains, and Automobiles
"Do you feel that this is a safe vehicle?"
"Yes sir, yes I do."
Another car's death
The Buick Century -- at that time was a common car and served me well. Its sad death was at 3:12 am on a Saturday. I was asleep when I heard a resounding crash. I looked out to see my car--folded. I ran out to look and saw the fluid trail of a destroyed radiator leak. The hit and run driver, drunk or other, left the scene. I never got anywhere with finding him.
The cops were pretty nice, since it wasn't an emergency, I waited over an hour. By that time, much of the fluid had evaporated. I saw nothing, so had little to offer. He gave me a control number and that was it. Killed by a random driver.
I called the insurance company the next day and told them I wasn't interested in having the totalled car on the policy.
"Why not?"
"Uh. It's totalled."
(silence)
"It's undrivable. I don't want to pay for something that I don't have."
"Okay. Let me check. Okay. Do you got a control number."
"Yes . #######."
"Okay. You insurance will be -- $30 more per month."
"How?"
"You no longer have a multi-car discount."
I don't suggest using Progressive, the company that I had at that time.
I wish I had a suggestion to you. My current company still charges me, I think unreasonable amount since I have no tickets on my record, nor accidents, and my car is old and [previous posts] a piece of crud. $700 annual, for that thing ... unreal! Im older ... what gives!
The cops were pretty nice, since it wasn't an emergency, I waited over an hour. By that time, much of the fluid had evaporated. I saw nothing, so had little to offer. He gave me a control number and that was it. Killed by a random driver.
I called the insurance company the next day and told them I wasn't interested in having the totalled car on the policy.
"Why not?"
"Uh. It's totalled."
(silence)
"It's undrivable. I don't want to pay for something that I don't have."
"Okay. Let me check. Okay. Do you got a control number."
"Yes . #######."
"Okay. You insurance will be -- $30 more per month."
"How?"
"You no longer have a multi-car discount."
I don't suggest using Progressive, the company that I had at that time.
I wish I had a suggestion to you. My current company still charges me, I think unreasonable amount since I have no tickets on my record, nor accidents, and my car is old and [previous posts] a piece of crud. $700 annual, for that thing ... unreal! Im older ... what gives!
When you hear the crunch, you're there
It was like any other trip back from school -- high school that is. MR was with me and we were traveling on the road, when I saw something in my rearview mirror ... enough to scar MR who said my eyes got very large and my legs stretched out -- as though I were jumping.
It was probably not a good idea to smash into a Pinto, but that wasn't going through the guy's mind who was behind us. D. Schwartz, also from that high school was driving like mad -- sad that he was a greater lead foot than was I, smashed into us going 55 mph. Ouch!
Ah ... what to say! I looked at the damage. Hey! You bent a corner of my licence plate. Meanwhile, his front end looked -- uh, bad. Left front headlight -- smashed ... bent bumper, broken plastic grill. Who knew I had the only Pinto not designed to explode?
I had at least four other people crash into the Pinto's rear bumper at different speeds. Its demise came from excessive damage from other things, including a guy who was going 44 in a 35, on slush, Dec. 27, 1990. I got side swiped -- time moving slowly as I hoped to twist to parallel with him on his mad dash into destiny. I had cinder blocks in the back to weigh it down.
After the hit ... blocks left the car via the hatch window. I was spun 500 some degrees. I turned the foul-smelling beast onto a side street. I was dazed, but unharmed. Pinto ... cough, hack ... sputter, gasp [engine now off]
I walked over to the car that was on the incline to a hill -- entrance to plaza. From the look of the car -- position first, I'm sure he was just plain stupid. He wanted to get my info, but was disinclined to share his. The cop found mutual fault -- the other driver was pissed.
Nothing says Merry Christmas like a destroyed car. It was patched, but never really repaired. It was dead. My next car was better, but its death is another story
It was probably not a good idea to smash into a Pinto, but that wasn't going through the guy's mind who was behind us. D. Schwartz, also from that high school was driving like mad -- sad that he was a greater lead foot than was I, smashed into us going 55 mph. Ouch!
Ah ... what to say! I looked at the damage. Hey! You bent a corner of my licence plate. Meanwhile, his front end looked -- uh, bad. Left front headlight -- smashed ... bent bumper, broken plastic grill. Who knew I had the only Pinto not designed to explode?
I had at least four other people crash into the Pinto's rear bumper at different speeds. Its demise came from excessive damage from other things, including a guy who was going 44 in a 35, on slush, Dec. 27, 1990. I got side swiped -- time moving slowly as I hoped to twist to parallel with him on his mad dash into destiny. I had cinder blocks in the back to weigh it down.
After the hit ... blocks left the car via the hatch window. I was spun 500 some degrees. I turned the foul-smelling beast onto a side street. I was dazed, but unharmed. Pinto ... cough, hack ... sputter, gasp [engine now off]
I walked over to the car that was on the incline to a hill -- entrance to plaza. From the look of the car -- position first, I'm sure he was just plain stupid. He wanted to get my info, but was disinclined to share his. The cop found mutual fault -- the other driver was pissed.
Nothing says Merry Christmas like a destroyed car. It was patched, but never really repaired. It was dead. My next car was better, but its death is another story
A man approaches MR
and starts talking nicely. I foolishly either willingly get in the conversation or am welcomed into it. The man is complaining about his depression. He is an accomplished alcoholic, being one for decades. His claims of drinking are -- well, claims. His other woes are, I'm sure real, but blurred by years and by alcohol. I stupidly offered him some advice: consider why you are alive if: you did indeed tried and failed to kill yourself, and have suffered the many loses in your life. This was about as useful as, "The wall over there is off-white, ya know?"
A man who drinks like that and does not eat, is going to die! When? It was a good time to get out of Dodge.
My lesson here is, if a person walks up to you with an alcoholic drink in his / her hand and says, "I'm an alcoholic!", just pretend your Serbian and English isn't your strong suit.
A man who drinks like that and does not eat, is going to die! When? It was a good time to get out of Dodge.
My lesson here is, if a person walks up to you with an alcoholic drink in his / her hand and says, "I'm an alcoholic!", just pretend your Serbian and English isn't your strong suit.
Desperately seeking Susan
So many years ago -- 11 years, I think, I was interested in a woman, Susan, and when I asked to go out with her she gave the put off line of, "Wouldn't it be better to just be friends?"
A dog's whine when closed in the house, as the rest of the family goes on a picnic, is close to the sound I made saying the word, "no" (stretched out for 8 seconds).
A dog's whine when closed in the house, as the rest of the family goes on a picnic, is close to the sound I made saying the word, "no" (stretched out for 8 seconds).
I'll race you up the wire!
MR and TS were passengers in my lovely (sarcasm) old Pinto. It was 2 something in that Friday morning. What to do ... what to do? We spot a Yosemite Sam on the curb. There was no wonder, as he was filthy, like a machanic's rag. I grabbed (pinched) him and we were off. We were on a gravel road. I tethered Sam to my back bumper. I couldn't see him, but MR could. MR had the misfortune of being the back seat.
I clearly demonstrated competent driving, going maybe 60 down a gravel road. We approached a curve that it was clear we weren't going to make, despite my slamming on the breaks (sliding nicely on the gravel). We were entering the curve, when we saw a worse fate than ditching in a field ... a telephone pole was heading toward us.
I gritted my teeth awaiting doom. MR, moments before had wisely put on his safety belt. I think, at this time, TS was trying to buckle up. We upruptly stopped. I saw no crumpled front ... no shattered windshield, but the horizontal hold was off. Through luck, God, or fate ... we rested on the guide wire that cut into the car like a cheese cutter, along the back wheel well.
I opened the door to have it mimic a kickstand. I tumbled out, as did TS. MR had to struggle to get from the back. Boy, was I stupid! We walked back from the car, and I thought it might be best to free the Sam that was on the back bumper. His ride wasn't as scary as ours.
At this time -- you would expect foul language or silence. I offered neither, but murmurred, "Curse my feeble driving skills!" It was a phrase that was stupid, but memorable.
I walked down to call the folks. They were ... not too shocked to hear me. We were all okay, and he was going to see us soon -- 4:15 /5 which seemed like 7. TS and MR were going to just walk back to either of their houses -- leaving me to catch it all.
Speaking of catch --- my father had a plan. Cut the guide wire and TS, MR and I would catch the car.
We were not so inclined, unlike the car. The snapping of the guide wire was the main concern. Darwin awards wasn't known then, but we weren't interested in dying that way. The car fell 4 feet -- unhappily. Unlike Herbie, this hunk didn't reassemble itself.
I clearly demonstrated competent driving, going maybe 60 down a gravel road. We approached a curve that it was clear we weren't going to make, despite my slamming on the breaks (sliding nicely on the gravel). We were entering the curve, when we saw a worse fate than ditching in a field ... a telephone pole was heading toward us.
I gritted my teeth awaiting doom. MR, moments before had wisely put on his safety belt. I think, at this time, TS was trying to buckle up. We upruptly stopped. I saw no crumpled front ... no shattered windshield, but the horizontal hold was off. Through luck, God, or fate ... we rested on the guide wire that cut into the car like a cheese cutter, along the back wheel well.
I opened the door to have it mimic a kickstand. I tumbled out, as did TS. MR had to struggle to get from the back. Boy, was I stupid! We walked back from the car, and I thought it might be best to free the Sam that was on the back bumper. His ride wasn't as scary as ours.
At this time -- you would expect foul language or silence. I offered neither, but murmurred, "Curse my feeble driving skills!" It was a phrase that was stupid, but memorable.
I walked down to call the folks. They were ... not too shocked to hear me. We were all okay, and he was going to see us soon -- 4:15 /5 which seemed like 7. TS and MR were going to just walk back to either of their houses -- leaving me to catch it all.
Speaking of catch --- my father had a plan. Cut the guide wire and TS, MR and I would catch the car.
We were not so inclined, unlike the car. The snapping of the guide wire was the main concern. Darwin awards wasn't known then, but we weren't interested in dying that way. The car fell 4 feet -- unhappily. Unlike Herbie, this hunk didn't reassemble itself.
Tuesday, January 24, 2006
You won't be angry
I -- will -- not -- be -- angry:
1. Was it Hans Grueber's brain? Ah, no. It was Abby. Abby who? Abby Nor-mal, I believe. [violent shaking]
2. You tramp! The first chance you have to be with him and you did it!
1. Was it Hans Grueber's brain? Ah, no. It was Abby. Abby who? Abby Nor-mal, I believe. [violent shaking]
2. You tramp! The first chance you have to be with him and you did it!
win ter
Ah ... winter, unusual here, but 40+ mph wind with hard ice/sleet. Lovely, and I'm not driving in it
Car money pit
rrr click
r click
click
no battery
Didn't I just have this fixed?
After a jump and a short drive to where I had it fixed, and a ride back -- I got a call that the belt was bad and not charging the battery right. More money down the drain. Hopefully, it will be less than a new battery and the tales of the guano auto de eledteacher
I was told that it might be ready tomorrow morning
r click
click
no battery
Didn't I just have this fixed?
After a jump and a short drive to where I had it fixed, and a ride back -- I got a call that the belt was bad and not charging the battery right. More money down the drain. Hopefully, it will be less than a new battery and the tales of the guano auto de eledteacher
I was told that it might be ready tomorrow morning
Monday, January 23, 2006
I like to watch
unlike Being There, I'm referring to channels that voice-over profanity. It would be better to intenitonally ruin the movie, like Mystery Science Theater rather than doing, "You scum bum!" in Smokey and the Bandit.
You _____ for brains! = You goofoff!
Better still, I like to do my own voice-overs.
MR did a nice one Are you threating me?
You _____ for brains! = You goofoff!
Better still, I like to do my own voice-overs.
MR did a nice one Are you threating me?
Cincinnati
"As God as my witness, I swear I thought turkeys could fly!"
"People are here, running into buildings, fleeing for their lives." [crashes nearby of cars being attacked by falling fowl]
"People are here, running into buildings, fleeing for their lives." [crashes nearby of cars being attacked by falling fowl]
WKRP
"Just listen to the lyrics, would ya?"
"Sounds like communism to me! Stop playing it."
Imagine there's no heaven, imagine there's no hell...
"Sounds like communism to me! Stop playing it."
Nothing says I like you more than copping a feel
apparently there is an amorous kindergartener who lets his interests knows he likes them with a squeeze of the butt, which includes adults. That's fun -- not!
In another circumstance, different school, 3rd grade; a girl student felt up the girl behind her -- very private area. There was a line of lies about it at the start ... who knows why. I sent the two to the office about it. The felt girl was a bit traumatized and scared and crying.
In another circumstance, different school, 3rd grade; a girl student felt up the girl behind her -- very private area. There was a line of lies about it at the start ... who knows why. I sent the two to the office about it. The felt girl was a bit traumatized and scared and crying.
Sunday, January 22, 2006
Winter Song
Tommy Don't Lick That Pipe
(c) 1995 John McCutcheon/Appalsongs (ASCAP) & Si Kahn/Joe Hill Music (ASCAP)
Winter is a-coming
And the weather's getting cold
I have to watch my brother Tom
He's eight years old
I never have to worry
That he'll slip on ice and fall
In fact there's only just one thing
That worries me at all
chorus
Tommy, don't lick that pipe
Your tongue will stick like glue
I've warned you twice
And I wish you'd mind
Don't you remember
What happened last time
You can do about anything else that you like
But Tommy, don't lick that pipe
(c) 1995 John McCutcheon/Appalsongs (ASCAP) & Si Kahn/Joe Hill Music (ASCAP)
Winter is a-coming
And the weather's getting cold
I have to watch my brother Tom
He's eight years old
I never have to worry
That he'll slip on ice and fall
In fact there's only just one thing
That worries me at all
chorus
Tommy, don't lick that pipe
Your tongue will stick like glue
I've warned you twice
And I wish you'd mind
Don't you remember
What happened last time
You can do about anything else that you like
But Tommy, don't lick that pipe
Do you still remember Uncle Albert
Such scientific curiosity
He stuck his tongue out on the old pump handle
It took us two whole days to get him free
Do you still remember Grandma Dawson
She touched her tongue on to a waterspout
She said she thought that it was made of plastic
It took us until May to thaw her out
Do you still remember our dog Fluffy
He went outside to do his doggy thing
We found him frozen solid to a hydrant
We couldn't break him loose until the spring
Such scientific curiosity
He stuck his tongue out on the old pump handle
It took us two whole days to get him free
Do you still remember Grandma Dawson
She touched her tongue on to a waterspout
She said she thought that it was made of plastic
It took us until May to thaw her out
Do you still remember our dog Fluffy
He went outside to do his doggy thing
We found him frozen solid to a hydrant
We couldn't break him loose until the spring
Free Range
What an absurd concept!
Here, we allow the chickens to run around like chickens with their heads on, then just like the confined chickens we approach them, chop off their heads and prep them. So ... they're happier or healthier? Certainly the spread of contagions is less, but their diet is less controlled. So -- who cares? It isn't as if they could claim that the chickens are happier, perhaps for a few months, prior to suffering the same fate as caged brethren, save their feeling of loss of freedom.
I suppose I should favor more expensive hand fished or ocean fished fare, instead of cheaper farm raised? I think if I could get cheaper, more controlled, less heavy-metalled (mercury) lobster and salmon, I'd take the safer, cheaper lobster and salmon.
Free range cattle and pigs with larger pastures to eat, eating less of their own fecal matter might make sense, but not at a high increase of cost, especially if they have fewer injections.
Here, we allow the chickens to run around like chickens with their heads on, then just like the confined chickens we approach them, chop off their heads and prep them. So ... they're happier or healthier? Certainly the spread of contagions is less, but their diet is less controlled. So -- who cares? It isn't as if they could claim that the chickens are happier, perhaps for a few months, prior to suffering the same fate as caged brethren, save their feeling of loss of freedom.
I suppose I should favor more expensive hand fished or ocean fished fare, instead of cheaper farm raised? I think if I could get cheaper, more controlled, less heavy-metalled (mercury) lobster and salmon, I'd take the safer, cheaper lobster and salmon.
Free range cattle and pigs with larger pastures to eat, eating less of their own fecal matter might make sense, but not at a high increase of cost, especially if they have fewer injections.
Soup
The folks told me about an organic soup from Healthy Valley. Organic Cream of Chicken soup.
The "Free range chicken" were, I understand, minscule tasteless bits of matter -- cardboard would have had flavor. The soup itself was inedible, not tasting like cream of chicken. My father likened it to Oyster Stew, which he doesn't like. My mum likes oyster stew, but found this just generally gross.
I don't eat chicken, so I don't plan on eating it. The funniest thing here is that the compnay doesn't show it on it's website. Perhaps it was so terrible, the store had the last batch of it. I thought of sending a picture of an Orec (TM) to them, letting them know what it was like.
Are you threatening me?
"Are you threatening me [directed at Mace Windu]?' At this time, MR pipes in, "I am Cornholio! I need t.p. for my bunghole!" Ah, the emperor is Cornholio. He wears something covering his head.
Thanks MR ... that was in my mind today.
future shock
I was tempted to try pot, but the time that it was more interesting to me, I couldn't "score" any. All the better. After talking with some people and reading a bit, I wonder if I don't already have those warped, stupid concepts all without the drug.
Hey ... what if, through progressive acceleration and accumulation, Earth became denser and have greater mass due to cosmic dust -- especially from the greater area, but overall smaller mass and gravitational pull of the sun as it exhausts its central helium core and loses mass. Since the Earth then would be greater and have greater mass, wouldn't the moon be less costly to travel? Furthermore, couldn't the expanding layer of nitrogen-carbon pollution be "pooled" over ozone thinning layers, slowly replaced by "free" ozone from growing thermonuclear power plants, needed to serve the energy needs of limited oil countries?
If there is a small gap of material between two fingers tightly pressed together: theory of matter, in which particles may be tightly packed but collisions are rare, and space being filled with less matter and greater free energy, wouldn't introducing more matter into space cause a greater potential for rare collisions which, could domino into large-scale nuclear chain reactions -- yielding vaporization of matter into greater levels of energy, in turn accelerating into greater levels of energy in space creating more and more collisions until finally all of space is turned from matter into other energies? Decelerating or finding equilibrium in slower states of energy, finally into a big ball of slowly and finally near-atomic stop matter a solid pile of goo. You know ... like diarhea that falls to the ground and dries. "Are you saying we're the bacteria of a universal turd?" "Yeah"
Conceptual stupidity -- profound and unmentionable. Why would I need drugs? I've not had them and worry that I would either be the same with drugs or ... scarier: wierder.
Hey ... what if, through progressive acceleration and accumulation, Earth became denser and have greater mass due to cosmic dust -- especially from the greater area, but overall smaller mass and gravitational pull of the sun as it exhausts its central helium core and loses mass. Since the Earth then would be greater and have greater mass, wouldn't the moon be less costly to travel? Furthermore, couldn't the expanding layer of nitrogen-carbon pollution be "pooled" over ozone thinning layers, slowly replaced by "free" ozone from growing thermonuclear power plants, needed to serve the energy needs of limited oil countries?
If there is a small gap of material between two fingers tightly pressed together: theory of matter, in which particles may be tightly packed but collisions are rare, and space being filled with less matter and greater free energy, wouldn't introducing more matter into space cause a greater potential for rare collisions which, could domino into large-scale nuclear chain reactions -- yielding vaporization of matter into greater levels of energy, in turn accelerating into greater levels of energy in space creating more and more collisions until finally all of space is turned from matter into other energies? Decelerating or finding equilibrium in slower states of energy, finally into a big ball of slowly and finally near-atomic stop matter a solid pile of goo. You know ... like diarhea that falls to the ground and dries. "Are you saying we're the bacteria of a universal turd?" "Yeah"
Conceptual stupidity -- profound and unmentionable. Why would I need drugs? I've not had them and worry that I would either be the same with drugs or ... scarier: wierder.
I wasn't listening
I think God, life and luck were trying to communicate to me:
"You shot the native" -- replace native with racial slur. For this, I got a very well deserved stern look from a guy, who seemed twice my height and twice my weight, a look that meant -- "Look! I shot the little punk bastard who said that!" And there was much rejoicing.
Joining in a mulligan's stew of sexually explicit tales, spoken all-too loudly, when behind me children are capable of hearing only me; one of whom, I think, knew me.
Smoking (see previous posts) only to be bleary-eyed and incapable of speaking above a Jack Palance whisper -- cigars are not my friends. That's a path I'll not take again.
I think that I'll take my regular path, as boring as it might be.
Everyone doing it, doesn't make it right.
Anytime that I did something, rather uncharacteristic, being outlandishly rude, using culturally or racial offensive language or trying to fit in with the crowd -- it ran around and bit me in the back (side)"You shot the native" -- replace native with racial slur. For this, I got a very well deserved stern look from a guy, who seemed twice my height and twice my weight, a look that meant -- "Look! I shot the little punk bastard who said that!" And there was much rejoicing.
Joining in a mulligan's stew of sexually explicit tales, spoken all-too loudly, when behind me children are capable of hearing only me; one of whom, I think, knew me.
Smoking (see previous posts) only to be bleary-eyed and incapable of speaking above a Jack Palance whisper -- cigars are not my friends. That's a path I'll not take again.
I think that I'll take my regular path, as boring as it might be.
Hidden lines
I remember when it was okay to play music when you couldn't understnad the words or when they were spoken so quickly that you didn't catch them. Now, of course, there is the internet where you can get any lyrics.
"Greased Lightning", was a song that was okay to play when I was younger, because no one paid attention to the lyrics, "You know that ain't no _hit when you're getting lots of _it (female anatomy)..."
"It's a real __ssy (nickname for cat) wagon..."
What's more useful is that some language is deeply hidden, so well contructed that you don't consciously process it.
"Sonsuvbiches, Bumpises!" -- Christmas Story. I really like this movie. It's great and the father, who reminds me of my father, uses Yosemite Sam profanities: Stickle fifer! (In that regard, my father was not G or PG) You really don't pick up on it, as they distort other curse words throughout, "f--u---d---g---e! Only, I didn't say fudge. I said the Queen Mother of dirty words; the f dash dash dash word."
"Greased Lightning", was a song that was okay to play when I was younger, because no one paid attention to the lyrics, "You know that ain't no _hit when you're getting lots of _it (female anatomy)..."
"It's a real __ssy (nickname for cat) wagon..."
What's more useful is that some language is deeply hidden, so well contructed that you don't consciously process it.
"Sonsuvbiches, Bumpises!" -- Christmas Story. I really like this movie. It's great and the father, who reminds me of my father, uses Yosemite Sam profanities: Stickle fifer! (In that regard, my father was not G or PG) You really don't pick up on it, as they distort other curse words throughout, "f--u---d---g---e! Only, I didn't say fudge. I said the Queen Mother of dirty words; the f dash dash dash word."
tele-idiot
or "boob tube"
On many channels when they play a movie they will nicely, though briefly show you a rating ex: PG, with letters underneath to hint at the content.
Some movies, it would seem, should have the alphabet under them.
D rugs
V iolence
L anguage
N udity
S exual situation
Okay.... why is this on regular TV? Moreover ... how can a movie be PG-13 and have DLVSN ? Who's doing the ratings here? I know that the PG movies when I was younger were ... let's say not PG, but PG-13. That makes sense.
Also, how can you censor language, to make it suitable for TV, but leave offensive jokes in it. It's okay if we call Black persons, N____, or insult Jews, but we can't use damn or (rhymes with "hit"). I think the jokes should be cut if the language is cut.
On many channels when they play a movie they will nicely, though briefly show you a rating ex: PG, with letters underneath to hint at the content.
Some movies, it would seem, should have the alphabet under them.
D rugs
V iolence
L anguage
N udity
S exual situation
Okay.... why is this on regular TV? Moreover ... how can a movie be PG-13 and have DLVSN ? Who's doing the ratings here? I know that the PG movies when I was younger were ... let's say not PG, but PG-13. That makes sense.
Also, how can you censor language, to make it suitable for TV, but leave offensive jokes in it. It's okay if we call Black persons, N____, or insult Jews, but we can't use damn or (rhymes with "hit"). I think the jokes should be cut if the language is cut.
Saturday, January 21, 2006
industrial devolution
And I wasn't even at the drive through ...
This year looks like better health year for those around me, but the machines around are dying.
My folks had 3 appliances die: dryer right before my father went in for surgery, freezer soon after, refridgerator after that. His HD on his old computer died a couple of weeks ago, then his speakers -- after he had his computer fixed with a new HD.
In my case: my alternator died (note previous posts), my computer mouse died. Although I have a laptop ... I like the convenience of the mouse, especially with the scroll wheel.
My sister's car was not working (head gasket ruined) and they were looking for cars ... good luck!
What I do have: My father, my family, my uncle who was discharged from hosptial yesterday after a 2-wire defibulator was installed. I have friends: Cerpicio has had surgeries over the course of a year, Lori who has had many different ailments, and my limited illness this year.
I think I'd rather take the pain of financial loss and the anguish of paying for repairs than to lose family or friends. I still feel screw'd at times.
This year looks like better health year for those around me, but the machines around are dying.
My folks had 3 appliances die: dryer right before my father went in for surgery, freezer soon after, refridgerator after that. His HD on his old computer died a couple of weeks ago, then his speakers -- after he had his computer fixed with a new HD.
In my case: my alternator died (note previous posts), my computer mouse died. Although I have a laptop ... I like the convenience of the mouse, especially with the scroll wheel.
My sister's car was not working (head gasket ruined) and they were looking for cars ... good luck!
What I do have: My father, my family, my uncle who was discharged from hosptial yesterday after a 2-wire defibulator was installed. I have friends: Cerpicio has had surgeries over the course of a year, Lori who has had many different ailments, and my limited illness this year.
I think I'd rather take the pain of financial loss and the anguish of paying for repairs than to lose family or friends. I still feel screw'd at times.
Friday, January 20, 2006
predicting the future
I haven't had a ticket in several years ....
My prediction: in around 16 months ... speeding ticket
They'll raise my rates and say ... bad boy ... good money ... thanks!
My prediction: in around 16 months ... speeding ticket
They'll raise my rates and say ... bad boy ... good money ... thanks!
My idiocy of renaming things
I often rename things out of disrespect or as it is worthy.
There once was a store named Service Merchandise, but I called it Merchandise, because you certianly weren't getting any service there.
I used to work there and at Walletbuster (Blockbuster Video). "Sir. Sir? Could I please get a membership, pay more money for each rental and get screwed on late fees and pesterd on the phone about them, please?" "No!"
Strange enough, Rod Woodson, of the Pittsburgh Steelers is from Indiana and had applied for a membership. I had to deny him due to lack of ID. He was, then at Purdue.
Hillcrest ... biggoted manager who directed all application takers to fold a corner of any non-white applicant. Money-pinching #$&%$^ !!!! He died of a heart attack, I think.
Walletbuster ... head manager ... biggoted and nuts. I thought the Hillcrest manager was nuts til I met a person who didn't like the flavor of oxygen --- hardly saw her without a cigarette in the mouth.
Another place ... ______ Fire Protection. One manager there was a bigot and a womanizer. He reported to me that the allegations of spousal abuse --- assault were false. I stupidly believed him. Lo and behold ... his second significant other charged him with the same thing --- no, no, no ... you see ... that's all lies!
The [insert homosexual duragatory here] was really friggin odd. We had a lame meeting in Indy and I lef the hotel room to get ice, or some damn fool thing. I got back, knocked and the guy's in his underwear, walking around.
"What? It's just my underwear."
(think ... did not pack nuclear explosive nor gun with silencer)
After the lame meeting, he thought bar shopping might be good. I knew of Broadripple. We went there and the last place we went was on the verge of gay Paris.
I think livid is the term here.
anyway ... got back unmolested and not needing to kill ... at that time.
I have a habit of altering names ... such as those above. I also commonly refer to Best Buy as Worst Buy, because the prices stink ... their service is absent (not tardy) not enrolled, and their specials -- rebates at 6 months in waiting.
I refer to Taco Bell as Taco Hades (not the humor) ... sadly, in a class I referred to this place as Taco Hades, having then to rename it. Thank goodness I don't have a more profain name for it.
When I have tried to find Walletbuster in the phone book, I was once looking under "W"
Thankfully, those around me are growing used to these stupidities. I think, certainly most agree that Blockbuster is Walletbuster ... charging you too much, whenever, however they can.
In a previous post I mentioned courtesy and not making others work on significant holidays. Do the lowly workers a favor -- don't rent or shop for movies ON Christmas Day. They have to work, but the CEOs don't. Don't make them work, while you look through shelves of nothing because everything good is already gone. Then don't go complaining to them, because they shouldn't listen to your criping because your lame butt didn't think of that before.
I never thought that, although I don't suffer schizophenia, that I would commonly use neologisms. They are hardly unique to schizophenics, but are generally less-well used. It's truly one if you negate knowledge of the original and true word/name.
There once was a store named Service Merchandise, but I called it Merchandise, because you certianly weren't getting any service there.
I used to work there and at Walletbuster (Blockbuster Video). "Sir. Sir? Could I please get a membership, pay more money for each rental and get screwed on late fees and pesterd on the phone about them, please?" "No!"
Strange enough, Rod Woodson, of the Pittsburgh Steelers is from Indiana and had applied for a membership. I had to deny him due to lack of ID. He was, then at Purdue.
Hillcrest ... biggoted manager who directed all application takers to fold a corner of any non-white applicant. Money-pinching #$&%$^ !!!! He died of a heart attack, I think.
Walletbuster ... head manager ... biggoted and nuts. I thought the Hillcrest manager was nuts til I met a person who didn't like the flavor of oxygen --- hardly saw her without a cigarette in the mouth.
Another place ... ______ Fire Protection. One manager there was a bigot and a womanizer. He reported to me that the allegations of spousal abuse --- assault were false. I stupidly believed him. Lo and behold ... his second significant other charged him with the same thing --- no, no, no ... you see ... that's all lies!
The [insert homosexual duragatory here] was really friggin odd. We had a lame meeting in Indy and I lef the hotel room to get ice, or some damn fool thing. I got back, knocked and the guy's in his underwear, walking around.
"What? It's just my underwear."
(think ... did not pack nuclear explosive nor gun with silencer)
After the lame meeting, he thought bar shopping might be good. I knew of Broadripple. We went there and the last place we went was on the verge of gay Paris.
I think livid is the term here.
anyway ... got back unmolested and not needing to kill ... at that time.
I have a habit of altering names ... such as those above. I also commonly refer to Best Buy as Worst Buy, because the prices stink ... their service is absent (not tardy) not enrolled, and their specials -- rebates at 6 months in waiting.
I refer to Taco Bell as Taco Hades (not the humor) ... sadly, in a class I referred to this place as Taco Hades, having then to rename it. Thank goodness I don't have a more profain name for it.
When I have tried to find Walletbuster in the phone book, I was once looking under "W"
Thankfully, those around me are growing used to these stupidities. I think, certainly most agree that Blockbuster is Walletbuster ... charging you too much, whenever, however they can.
In a previous post I mentioned courtesy and not making others work on significant holidays. Do the lowly workers a favor -- don't rent or shop for movies ON Christmas Day. They have to work, but the CEOs don't. Don't make them work, while you look through shelves of nothing because everything good is already gone. Then don't go complaining to them, because they shouldn't listen to your criping because your lame butt didn't think of that before.
I never thought that, although I don't suffer schizophenia, that I would commonly use neologisms. They are hardly unique to schizophenics, but are generally less-well used. It's truly one if you negate knowledge of the original and true word/name.
suffering mental blog
What important thing happened today ...
was sent friend's blog address
got armed and operational clown car
got several hugs from kids --- they're so sweet!
Played town marshal -- in that they were restless and were more interested in talking than anything else.
My got his computer back ... new HD
The "Geek Squad" of note / fame were not able to get the data off the drive, not that they put forth a whole lot of effort there.
They supplied about as much effort as Walletbuster (Blockbuster Video) did for MR and I when we sought to get a video.
Wait ... wait ... wait...
was sent friend's blog address
got armed and operational clown car
got several hugs from kids --- they're so sweet!
Played town marshal -- in that they were restless and were more interested in talking than anything else.
My got his computer back ... new HD
The "Geek Squad" of note / fame were not able to get the data off the drive, not that they put forth a whole lot of effort there.
They supplied about as much effort as Walletbuster (Blockbuster Video) did for MR and I when we sought to get a video.
Wait ... wait ... wait...
Sith
The Sith have abilities that some call, unnatural.
Yeah... I can see that. Those dang wussie Jedi can only jump 30' in the air ... toss enemies the same distance, catch Sith lightning in your hand, tell others what to say ... you know, natural talents.
Yeah... I can see that. Those dang wussie Jedi can only jump 30' in the air ... toss enemies the same distance, catch Sith lightning in your hand, tell others what to say ... you know, natural talents.
S.W.A.T.
should have shot.
A great kid told me that around her are drug dealers. The SWAT made a sting and multiple arrests, but they were out on bail within hours. I say, "Fire!"
I am thinking of the immoral command by the southern Union Major to set fire to the town in Glory. Sergent, command your men to set fires on ...
in the one case, it is illegal to fire on drug dealers, on the other hand -- they have no business living, I therefore condone murdering drug dealers, buyers alike. Are drugs illegal? Yes. Is it an institution where innocents are hurt, and they have no choice in the matter? Yes. Do I shed a tear about people who just wanted to get high? No.
I think that the many people supporting the US work in Iraq and Afghanistan applying lethal force to aggressors, should also support lethal force to those committing illegal acts: murder, rape, drugs, etc. The question should not be: Should they be executed? It should be: How slowly should they, or over how much time will they be punished until they are slain. I am a vindictive person, but see no value in torturing felons. Certainly their crimes demand punishment and some are so heinous, torture would be a perfunctory thought, but killing them outright is better.
Is there a 100% guarantee that an incarcerated person will not escape ... that has been proved wrong. Do dead people tend to threaten others or do the dead tend to commit more crimes? No.
It is a safety issue. Would I live next to a drug dealer or murderer or other felon, intentionally? No. Would I make it possible that the police knew where the person was, what they were doing? Yes. A notable exception to this was when I was with X and there was a house that had a vast number of 90 second visitors. I would hazard to guess that there was some business there, but it wasn't hair-cutting or cookie baking. X wasn't smart enough to find her way out of a bag sometimes, so putting her in jeopardy was not in my interest.
When we looked at that house, she went on about how stupid Mexicans were. That was so nice as the woman who was selling it, there in the room with us was second generation American from Mexico. X was stupid. I was more stupid for being with her.
A great kid told me that around her are drug dealers. The SWAT made a sting and multiple arrests, but they were out on bail within hours. I say, "Fire!"
I am thinking of the immoral command by the southern Union Major to set fire to the town in Glory. Sergent, command your men to set fires on ...
in the one case, it is illegal to fire on drug dealers, on the other hand -- they have no business living, I therefore condone murdering drug dealers, buyers alike. Are drugs illegal? Yes. Is it an institution where innocents are hurt, and they have no choice in the matter? Yes. Do I shed a tear about people who just wanted to get high? No.
I think that the many people supporting the US work in Iraq and Afghanistan applying lethal force to aggressors, should also support lethal force to those committing illegal acts: murder, rape, drugs, etc. The question should not be: Should they be executed? It should be: How slowly should they, or over how much time will they be punished until they are slain. I am a vindictive person, but see no value in torturing felons. Certainly their crimes demand punishment and some are so heinous, torture would be a perfunctory thought, but killing them outright is better.
Is there a 100% guarantee that an incarcerated person will not escape ... that has been proved wrong. Do dead people tend to threaten others or do the dead tend to commit more crimes? No.
It is a safety issue. Would I live next to a drug dealer or murderer or other felon, intentionally? No. Would I make it possible that the police knew where the person was, what they were doing? Yes. A notable exception to this was when I was with X and there was a house that had a vast number of 90 second visitors. I would hazard to guess that there was some business there, but it wasn't hair-cutting or cookie baking. X wasn't smart enough to find her way out of a bag sometimes, so putting her in jeopardy was not in my interest.
When we looked at that house, she went on about how stupid Mexicans were. That was so nice as the woman who was selling it, there in the room with us was second generation American from Mexico. X was stupid. I was more stupid for being with her.
Thursday, January 19, 2006
death of a paycheck
I dropped off my car to be checked, whether the battery was why my car wouldn't stay running or else. It was not the battery said Auto Zone who nicely, free of charge, charged it and did an analysis ... taking 4 hours. It was 8, and they weren't going to put it back in that night (though open until 9). I got there at 8 in the morning, but they weren't open.... wait, wait, wait...
8:20 some one flies in with keys ... others were there, but they couldn't / didn't do the register.
I got my battery back, but had to install it myself ... ya!
I drove it a short distance to a garage ... diagnosis --- alternator is shot. They tried for a while to find one. They did find one in Indy -- perhaps would be there the next day.
The estimate --- $350 about. That is about the value of the car ... great!
I will have to find a replacement for the vehicle this year, I suspect.
8:20 some one flies in with keys ... others were there, but they couldn't / didn't do the register.
I got my battery back, but had to install it myself ... ya!
I drove it a short distance to a garage ... diagnosis --- alternator is shot. They tried for a while to find one. They did find one in Indy -- perhaps would be there the next day.
The estimate --- $350 about. That is about the value of the car ... great!
I will have to find a replacement for the vehicle this year, I suspect.
Wednesday, January 18, 2006
car troubles
My car troubles here, remind me of one other time. Years ago
I was living in Wisconsin, with my then-fiance' and was driving on the highway back to the house when the drive lost power and died. It had run out of oil and had seized. I had bought it 2 months prior. I had no cell phone. I was slimy and dirty from work (foundry work). So... I stopped where I could -- side of the exit ramp (up) and walked to a house (farm house) where they were not willing to let me use the phone. It was now 6 pm, dark, wintery -25 F. At stop number two, I was able to use -- get this, an outdoor phone near a barn.
I called X. She was eating dinner with her mom and her mother's 5th husband. I told them my problem and got the response, "So what do you want me to do about it?"
uh ... I can think of no rational person who wouldn't understand that the caller would like assistance ... a ride, out of the cold, perhaps dinner after working a long day ... walking in the cold. I simplified my answer. I walked back to the car -- never anyone pausing to see if I needed help near the car with blinking lights, in the cold. I waited, and waited and waited.
I went into a fetal position in the back seat for warmth. After a while, my anger kept me warm. Around an hour later -- travel time from location was about 9 minutes, they arrive -- annoyed they had to come. They asked me to try to start it. Wow! It wouldn't turn over -- it was seized. They had the great idea of me -- alone pushing the boat of a car up the exit ramp on slippery roads. Bright idea -- didn't work. They eventually bumped it up and onto the other road ... the direction away from where I needed to go.
Brilliant!
So ... after about 2 and a quarter hours ... I get out of the cold, into the car ... the mood was colder than the winter. I return, have no dinner, tired and am out of luck. Much like tonight. Thankfully, Indiana isn't typically -25 F without windchill, unlike Wisconsin which gets that cold.
It was my only winter there ... married then separated, then the long process of divorce from a quack.
Later, in unwanted corospondence ... I was told, stupidly, that the used car dealer would have bought the piece of crap back from me ... really?! Did they pocket more of my money up there? Thank goodness! It might have burnt me.
This car -- now battery-less had been smashed on the side -- by me vs cemet pillons, an old man backing down the drive, at least one bump and run, and a woman backing into me at a light. The dents inward made it smaller -- if you can make a clown car smaller.
I was living in Wisconsin, with my then-fiance' and was driving on the highway back to the house when the drive lost power and died. It had run out of oil and had seized. I had bought it 2 months prior. I had no cell phone. I was slimy and dirty from work (foundry work). So... I stopped where I could -- side of the exit ramp (up) and walked to a house (farm house) where they were not willing to let me use the phone. It was now 6 pm, dark, wintery -25 F. At stop number two, I was able to use -- get this, an outdoor phone near a barn.
I called X. She was eating dinner with her mom and her mother's 5th husband. I told them my problem and got the response, "So what do you want me to do about it?"
uh ... I can think of no rational person who wouldn't understand that the caller would like assistance ... a ride, out of the cold, perhaps dinner after working a long day ... walking in the cold. I simplified my answer. I walked back to the car -- never anyone pausing to see if I needed help near the car with blinking lights, in the cold. I waited, and waited and waited.
I went into a fetal position in the back seat for warmth. After a while, my anger kept me warm. Around an hour later -- travel time from location was about 9 minutes, they arrive -- annoyed they had to come. They asked me to try to start it. Wow! It wouldn't turn over -- it was seized. They had the great idea of me -- alone pushing the boat of a car up the exit ramp on slippery roads. Bright idea -- didn't work. They eventually bumped it up and onto the other road ... the direction away from where I needed to go.
Brilliant!
So ... after about 2 and a quarter hours ... I get out of the cold, into the car ... the mood was colder than the winter. I return, have no dinner, tired and am out of luck. Much like tonight. Thankfully, Indiana isn't typically -25 F without windchill, unlike Wisconsin which gets that cold.
It was my only winter there ... married then separated, then the long process of divorce from a quack.
Later, in unwanted corospondence ... I was told, stupidly, that the used car dealer would have bought the piece of crap back from me ... really?! Did they pocket more of my money up there? Thank goodness! It might have burnt me.
This car -- now battery-less had been smashed on the side -- by me vs cemet pillons, an old man backing down the drive, at least one bump and run, and a woman backing into me at a light. The dents inward made it smaller -- if you can make a clown car smaller.
circling the coffee shops
Parting from the typical fare of beer, MR and I popped about getting coffees. He really liked the vending machine at the library, but wanted to try other coffees -- laden with flavorings. I believe he liked white mocha, of the selections we got, the best.
In his mind, a guy sitting at a computer, who asked us how to get to Bluffton, IN was cruising ... uh, and not the net. It wasn't clear to me. Sorry ... not gay -- wouldn't anyway.
Anyway, the second stop there was the lady barista who looked very similar to a woman who works at Applebees -- our normal stop on Wednesdays. She wasn't her, but I had to work to block that thought from my mind. It was loading up with people later on -- 7 something. There were some kids looking at MR and I while we played chess. I was reminded of the vultures circling pool tables at bars. I discovered that they weren't interested in playing, but rather in staring, I guess.
MR beat me in around 20 moves (each player making 20 moves), perhaps less. To finish the evening, we watched Renenge of the Sith, finding new critiques and voice-overs. Maia (cute little white dog who has a Mickey Mouse look when playful) wanted to play, for hours, and hours, and hours, and then some. Toward the end of the evening, she was prying through my jacket pockets, looking for goodies -- where I often keep them. It is odd, perhaps, that I buy dog treats, yet don't have a dog of my own. There are just so many around. I guess, now, I also need to get cat treats for Cerpicio and Paula, as they have 2 cats.
A tip -- especially for those who don't often drink coffee -- don't drink late at night and don't drink much ... no expresso. I'm a little energetic, but am growing sleepy.
In his mind, a guy sitting at a computer, who asked us how to get to Bluffton, IN was cruising ... uh, and not the net. It wasn't clear to me. Sorry ... not gay -- wouldn't anyway.
Anyway, the second stop there was the lady barista who looked very similar to a woman who works at Applebees -- our normal stop on Wednesdays. She wasn't her, but I had to work to block that thought from my mind. It was loading up with people later on -- 7 something. There were some kids looking at MR and I while we played chess. I was reminded of the vultures circling pool tables at bars. I discovered that they weren't interested in playing, but rather in staring, I guess.
MR beat me in around 20 moves (each player making 20 moves), perhaps less. To finish the evening, we watched Renenge of the Sith, finding new critiques and voice-overs. Maia (cute little white dog who has a Mickey Mouse look when playful) wanted to play, for hours, and hours, and hours, and then some. Toward the end of the evening, she was prying through my jacket pockets, looking for goodies -- where I often keep them. It is odd, perhaps, that I buy dog treats, yet don't have a dog of my own. There are just so many around. I guess, now, I also need to get cat treats for Cerpicio and Paula, as they have 2 cats.
A tip -- especially for those who don't often drink coffee -- don't drink late at night and don't drink much ... no expresso. I'm a little energetic, but am growing sleepy.
car service
or is it ... owned?!
My car was not holding a charge, which meant two very likely possibilities: the battery was bad or the alternator was bad.
I pulled my weak car into Auto Zone, at my father's suggestion, as they check batteries at no cost. They tried a diagnostic ... and the engine wouldn't run long enough to complete the test. They pulled the battery and charged it, then tested it -- taking four hours. After this time, I called them to find out what, if anything they determined. They reported that the battery was ... okay.
That's bad. An alternator costs much more to install. To couple this problem, they didn't re-install the battery before they closed. I now have no car, must wait until it opens AND someone installs the battery before I can drive it to get it repaired. In the meantime I have a job in the afternoon -- thankfully within walking distance and one all day on Friday. Joy of joys --- spend my I don't have on this -- and waiting more time ... of course.
God loves me, luck hates me.
My car was not holding a charge, which meant two very likely possibilities: the battery was bad or the alternator was bad.
I pulled my weak car into Auto Zone, at my father's suggestion, as they check batteries at no cost. They tried a diagnostic ... and the engine wouldn't run long enough to complete the test. They pulled the battery and charged it, then tested it -- taking four hours. After this time, I called them to find out what, if anything they determined. They reported that the battery was ... okay.
That's bad. An alternator costs much more to install. To couple this problem, they didn't re-install the battery before they closed. I now have no car, must wait until it opens AND someone installs the battery before I can drive it to get it repaired. In the meantime I have a job in the afternoon -- thankfully within walking distance and one all day on Friday. Joy of joys --- spend my I don't have on this -- and waiting more time ... of course.
God loves me, luck hates me.
Timely demise of my stinking bucket o' bolts
alas ... the 11 year mark and I see the start of many parts failing and the vehicle dollar and dollaring me to death.
11 years I think is like 110 car years, right?
It has served me, but I think that it will not last much longer. What a grand time to time ... winter! Maybe I'll luck out and find a reasonable car on a lot that an owner wishes to not pay on taxes.
11 years I think is like 110 car years, right?
It has served me, but I think that it will not last much longer. What a grand time to time ... winter! Maybe I'll luck out and find a reasonable car on a lot that an owner wishes to not pay on taxes.
Cans
That's right! Mafia-run Waste Management has dropped off cans to each of it's "customers", not that any resident has any choice.
The cans -- around 5' tall, were gingerly laid in the street so that cars and vehicles can crash into them. Why would they do that? Simple: they were too lazy to drop them off last month (when they were due), it was too much effort to actually move your butt off the truck.
We ensure our jobs by wasting your time!
Criping number two: this is THE CAN that each customer will use for trash. There will not be a two nor a three. There shall not be a one, unless it stops at a one. More ... is right out. The number of the cans shall be one, and one shall be the number of the count.
And the company did grin and the customers did pay, out the ___; out the ying-yang; out the wazzoo; out the backside; and did pay more money
Revision: customers may use other pre-existing (store bought)additional cans. Customer may obtain additional Waste Management cans for $2 per month ... forever.MR reported to me that there were two stickers (I got them too) that could be put on any cans to be destroyed. The caveat, unwritten, was that they must be put out the week after (only) the new can was received. Thereafter -- they don't do squat.His area was recently annexed -- to all of that area's opposition, and were subjected to King George taxation and subjegation.
The cans -- around 5' tall, were gingerly laid in the street so that cars and vehicles can crash into them. Why would they do that? Simple: they were too lazy to drop them off last month (when they were due), it was too much effort to actually move your butt off the truck.
We ensure our jobs by wasting your time!
Criping number two: this is THE CAN that each customer will use for trash. There will not be a two nor a three. There shall not be a one, unless it stops at a one. More ... is right out. The number of the cans shall be one, and one shall be the number of the count.
And the company did grin and the customers did pay, out the ___; out the ying-yang; out the wazzoo; out the backside; and did pay more money
Revision: customers may use other pre-existing (store bought)additional cans. Customer may obtain additional Waste Management cans for $2 per month ... forever.MR reported to me that there were two stickers (I got them too) that could be put on any cans to be destroyed. The caveat, unwritten, was that they must be put out the week after (only) the new can was received. Thereafter -- they don't do squat.His area was recently annexed -- to all of that area's opposition, and were subjected to King George taxation and subjegation.
Backing into a crash
Thankfully, God was looking out for me, as I near crashed into someone. It was due to my haste -- not taking long enough to look, and the vast array (banquet) of vehicles parked along the street that made visibility difficult.
Thanks God!
Thanks God!
Tuesday, January 17, 2006
about a boy
let's call him John Doe.
It is strange coincidence that a day or so ago, I posted about single-motherhood. I was given a very brief biography on a boy, whose mother apparently decided that she no longer wanted to be one, so she sent him to the biological father to raise. This man had not seen the boy in 8 years, had no experience being a father, and was living with his grandmother. Now, why would a person do that?
I would break this case (individual) to selfishness. I was given to undertand that she was a pot dealer who had spent a number of times in jail and that the boy had more hardship than I have ever had. Obviously, there was a better solution. I think now, though, erasing the abadndoining once-mother, would be primary. Then, find suitable caretakers of the boy.
All things considered, the boy is not too bad. He has been diganosed with ADHD, but his father doesn't believe in medicine. How ironic that the mother dealt drugs and the new-father doesn't believe in prescribed medicine.
Poor John ... I hope that someone adopts him and loves him. I am unsure of the new parent -- seems all too odd and sad to me.
It is strange coincidence that a day or so ago, I posted about single-motherhood. I was given a very brief biography on a boy, whose mother apparently decided that she no longer wanted to be one, so she sent him to the biological father to raise. This man had not seen the boy in 8 years, had no experience being a father, and was living with his grandmother. Now, why would a person do that?
I would break this case (individual) to selfishness. I was given to undertand that she was a pot dealer who had spent a number of times in jail and that the boy had more hardship than I have ever had. Obviously, there was a better solution. I think now, though, erasing the abadndoining once-mother, would be primary. Then, find suitable caretakers of the boy.
All things considered, the boy is not too bad. He has been diganosed with ADHD, but his father doesn't believe in medicine. How ironic that the mother dealt drugs and the new-father doesn't believe in prescribed medicine.
Poor John ... I hope that someone adopts him and loves him. I am unsure of the new parent -- seems all too odd and sad to me.
party invite
Mr. H., do you know where Candlelight ______ is?
Yes.
Well, do you know where # ______ is?
Uh, no.
Well, it's on the corner .... (other details)
You can come to my birthday party. And you can bring your bathing (swimming, I presume) suit.
Thanks for the invite Jasmine!
Yes.
Well, do you know where # ______ is?
Uh, no.
Well, it's on the corner .... (other details)
You can come to my birthday party. And you can bring your bathing (swimming, I presume) suit.
Thanks for the invite Jasmine!
Monday, January 16, 2006
stupid entry
Wild Gun Man
highest level... 64
In the arcade I would have never made it so far and would have never seen that the score rolls over like an odometer. Okay ... why the zeros? In the game many of the pointer are based on dollars for reward for criminals who may or may not draw on you.
---
criping ... games not requiring accuracy, unlike Wild Gun Man that counts a loss if you shoot before they draw, why have a fire button if there is never an advantage to not firing? If there is no accuracy % and that if you aren't firing, you are risking your "life" ... why stop firing? Why even make a fire button?
2. If are are entering into a game, why is your character invariably ill-equipped, such as a knife to a machine gun battle. There is tough and there is suicidal. Unarmed, I shall take on these 40 some people. I see their guns, but will prefer a club.
Hmmm Matrix got those ideas from somewhere --- moreover .... no.... I won't start tearing that movie apart --- too many comments will arise.
---
back to classic games: Bomberman ... I never played until this game system. What a wacky game!
Olympics ... ah, yes. I remember full well the Atari single joy with top left button. In the running games you had to jiggle the joy back and forth, usually holding the thing near your stomach. It was not a thing to see. Did the creators see what the results were? From the back you see only shoulder and arm movement in a predictable pattern. Worse was commentary ... "Come on! Get going! Almost there!"
highest level... 64
In the arcade I would have never made it so far and would have never seen that the score rolls over like an odometer. Okay ... why the zeros? In the game many of the pointer are based on dollars for reward for criminals who may or may not draw on you.
---
criping ... games not requiring accuracy, unlike Wild Gun Man that counts a loss if you shoot before they draw, why have a fire button if there is never an advantage to not firing? If there is no accuracy % and that if you aren't firing, you are risking your "life" ... why stop firing? Why even make a fire button?
2. If are are entering into a game, why is your character invariably ill-equipped, such as a knife to a machine gun battle. There is tough and there is suicidal. Unarmed, I shall take on these 40 some people. I see their guns, but will prefer a club.
Hmmm Matrix got those ideas from somewhere --- moreover .... no.... I won't start tearing that movie apart --- too many comments will arise.
---
back to classic games: Bomberman ... I never played until this game system. What a wacky game!
Olympics ... ah, yes. I remember full well the Atari single joy with top left button. In the running games you had to jiggle the joy back and forth, usually holding the thing near your stomach. It was not a thing to see. Did the creators see what the results were? From the back you see only shoulder and arm movement in a predictable pattern. Worse was commentary ... "Come on! Get going! Almost there!"
Secrets
a human concept
Either you keep them or you don't. I have so many, then I think about them it hurts. Perhaps, one day, before I die ... I can't forget them all. They are not military secrets. They aren't slander about any other person. Things spoken ... knowing that the listener listened and won't then speak. For when I listened ... I learned. I felt no different, really, about any person who spoke to me, but it did make me think and was emotive.
In retrospect ... even my own, have helped me be what and who I am. It helps that I don't hate myself.
My secrets about me ... I don't like typing and I don't like talking about me.
Either you keep them or you don't. I have so many, then I think about them it hurts. Perhaps, one day, before I die ... I can't forget them all. They are not military secrets. They aren't slander about any other person. Things spoken ... knowing that the listener listened and won't then speak. For when I listened ... I learned. I felt no different, really, about any person who spoke to me, but it did make me think and was emotive.
In retrospect ... even my own, have helped me be what and who I am. It helps that I don't hate myself.
My secrets about me ... I don't like typing and I don't like talking about me.
pure conjecture
I believe that more and more "popular" music focusses on the objectivity of women -- mainly as sex object and in some cases toys -- merely living, but inanimate objects. My hypothosis is: (assuming that the lyrics are reasonable foundation for the author's general belief system regarding sex and gender roles)
Is the intent of the discourse to fit in to the growing trend toward sexual prowess over others, sexual pomp and circumstance or (here is the dangerous statement); the attempt to subordinate a woman-figure, since, for so-long being controlled in a single-mother household?
In other words, finally free of being "dominated" by the only parent figure -- mother, a man acts out in opposition to authority, in a way he could never do with his only authority figure. The woman -- being more than a placebo for the mother, is a model of the authority, with specific differences in that a different relationship is formed with another woman, sexual in nature.
Being controlled is a terrible stigma in many groups -- more so in urban areas where you can gain status through subjegating others. This comes into play greater in institutions -- schools, detention centers, jails, prisons. A continuing and escalating cycle of control and violence to maintain that control manifests itself in quasi-obsession. OIn that failure to fully dominate this other, relegates the man back to the boy -- psyche in anguish.
Combine this with drug and stimulant use -- stimulants may include social seclusion through many avenues including single-player video games for many hours both buidling asocial tendencies and diminished discernment of non-comparable simuli.
Moreover, aggressive games (and violent games also) tend to favor the schema of subjegating others to your will. Many games offer reinforcement in that the greater the violence and aggression, the greater the outcome -- success and or short-goals (points). Media exaggerbates this with reverence for violent celebrities who include sports figures.
Aside: Bobby Knight -- a chronological adult, foul-mouthed, violent, even choking students and adults, was allowed to stay at IU Bloomington for many years despite his criminal behavior and was adored for it. I personally wished he had been in jail and would still be there.
Although it's nice to say, "there it is ... that's the problem right there!", but it isn't that simple. Even clearer is that, if the causation were just that -- and nothing else, how would you improve it and change it? Would you conjure reasonable, rational fathers out of the air?
An urban single mother, having little money for herself, now has at least one child. This strain worsens as the child and the mother grow older. Let us examine three overly-simplistic, plausable but unrealstic examples:
Mother A: little education, which leads to low-paying jobs. Assuming that she is paid at least minimum wage and has one child, she must know how to get help. Many do not. Assuming that she doesn't get help, either throuugh apathy, ignorance or denial; stress sets in -- tension in family unit. Money then is more important than safety. She might conclude that taking risks is better than not taking risks. Taking risks might include: endangering herself through vocation (illegal activities or activities that surrounded by illegal acts [huh? oh, drugs, theft, prostituion -- payment for sex even if it isn't money), co-habitator choice (man who is engaged in illegal activities or whose presence worsens the family unit -- not being in funds or overspending) or endagering her child through the above scenarios or through abandonment intentionally, disparingly (due to over working), ignorance of importancce.
People tend to learn through environment. What a person imitates is completely dependant on the person. If there is no positive consistent male role model, the child must seek out role models. In the above case, there is neglect -- leaving the child to wonder why. If there are other significant others in the area -- it is likely that the child will seek out those persons -- whether they are good or bad influences. She reacts harshly at seemingly random times and doesn't understand the illogic of children. She is in control sometimes -- harsh when she is. Here, women may be seen as violent, controlling and spiteful. To vanquish this beast, a man must take great conrol, at almost any means -- to defend himself.
add here the concept of large metro areas with gang activity where most children feel compelled to join a gang, leading to criminal activity and encouraging violence.
Mother B: she is better educated, with a more stable income and possibly better resources overall including car, house, furtnishings, food, freinds. While she is raising her son, she -- not a boy, is still ignorant of what boys are, how they change, what they do. Not wanting the son to feel unloved, the mother may overcompensate by either having a series of not-so good role models around or tragically either no role models (wishing to do it all herself) or only family members who are helpful, but aren't a good mix of some differing perspectives. Also, there may be difficulty finding a family member wishing to be father or uncle figure. Perhaps they are too busy or unwilling. The child, bored, seeks out others. Perhaps he finds positive role models, but perhaps not. Again ... a static evironment, leads to boredom. Through growing periods, boys will have testtosterone surges that will make them react like a woman during her menstration cylce ... happy, moody, wild, aggressive ... aloof. During the teen years, this doesn't quiet down or have months off. He never knows what he is. She's in control, but perhaps too much. Perhaps women, for this boy are unimportant or over dominant.
Mother C: a better situation for many. She is capable of caring for herself and at least one other. She is raising her child. She's doing very well and makes opportnities for her son that others could not. To overcompensate for the lack of father, she is all things ... and will not allow others to destroy what she has created. This will-be man is constantly shielded and protected from all things, including his own wrong-doings. While this doesn't, perhaps encourage violence toward women, but it may develop into a poor perspective, in that women are his servents or they are general pawns ... and that men are greater -- especially him.
Anyway ... the hypothosis --- examples, nothwithstanding is: a growing populaiton of women-controlled (single motherhood) of so many single or groups of boys, contributes to the perspective of the need to dominate women -- if through no other means ... sex or through violence.
In the develeopment of sex, it is a hormonal stimulating act, which requires stimulation of testtosterone and adrenaline. Through years of disturbance, and fear, sex becomes and stimulating act of control and dominance. Escalating this to sadism and sexual sadism (including rape) would then not be unpredictable. Preferences for ages may be an overextention of inferiority, fear, and anger. An easier target is one who is more easily dominated -- physically. Thereofore, younger targets are prefered, at least at first.
Cunning can be a powerful addition, in that deception is a greater part of seducing and illiciting a desired response.
NOTE: urban is exactly that... urban. I mean that an urbanite can be of any color, creed, etc.
Is the intent of the discourse to fit in to the growing trend toward sexual prowess over others, sexual pomp and circumstance or (here is the dangerous statement); the attempt to subordinate a woman-figure, since, for so-long being controlled in a single-mother household?
In other words, finally free of being "dominated" by the only parent figure -- mother, a man acts out in opposition to authority, in a way he could never do with his only authority figure. The woman -- being more than a placebo for the mother, is a model of the authority, with specific differences in that a different relationship is formed with another woman, sexual in nature.
Being controlled is a terrible stigma in many groups -- more so in urban areas where you can gain status through subjegating others. This comes into play greater in institutions -- schools, detention centers, jails, prisons. A continuing and escalating cycle of control and violence to maintain that control manifests itself in quasi-obsession. OIn that failure to fully dominate this other, relegates the man back to the boy -- psyche in anguish.
Combine this with drug and stimulant use -- stimulants may include social seclusion through many avenues including single-player video games for many hours both buidling asocial tendencies and diminished discernment of non-comparable simuli.
Moreover, aggressive games (and violent games also) tend to favor the schema of subjegating others to your will. Many games offer reinforcement in that the greater the violence and aggression, the greater the outcome -- success and or short-goals (points). Media exaggerbates this with reverence for violent celebrities who include sports figures.
Aside: Bobby Knight -- a chronological adult, foul-mouthed, violent, even choking students and adults, was allowed to stay at IU Bloomington for many years despite his criminal behavior and was adored for it. I personally wished he had been in jail and would still be there.
Although it's nice to say, "there it is ... that's the problem right there!", but it isn't that simple. Even clearer is that, if the causation were just that -- and nothing else, how would you improve it and change it? Would you conjure reasonable, rational fathers out of the air?
An urban single mother, having little money for herself, now has at least one child. This strain worsens as the child and the mother grow older. Let us examine three overly-simplistic, plausable but unrealstic examples:
Mother A: little education, which leads to low-paying jobs. Assuming that she is paid at least minimum wage and has one child, she must know how to get help. Many do not. Assuming that she doesn't get help, either throuugh apathy, ignorance or denial; stress sets in -- tension in family unit. Money then is more important than safety. She might conclude that taking risks is better than not taking risks. Taking risks might include: endangering herself through vocation (illegal activities or activities that surrounded by illegal acts [huh? oh, drugs, theft, prostituion -- payment for sex even if it isn't money), co-habitator choice (man who is engaged in illegal activities or whose presence worsens the family unit -- not being in funds or overspending) or endagering her child through the above scenarios or through abandonment intentionally, disparingly (due to over working), ignorance of importancce.
People tend to learn through environment. What a person imitates is completely dependant on the person. If there is no positive consistent male role model, the child must seek out role models. In the above case, there is neglect -- leaving the child to wonder why. If there are other significant others in the area -- it is likely that the child will seek out those persons -- whether they are good or bad influences. She reacts harshly at seemingly random times and doesn't understand the illogic of children. She is in control sometimes -- harsh when she is. Here, women may be seen as violent, controlling and spiteful. To vanquish this beast, a man must take great conrol, at almost any means -- to defend himself.
add here the concept of large metro areas with gang activity where most children feel compelled to join a gang, leading to criminal activity and encouraging violence.
Mother B: she is better educated, with a more stable income and possibly better resources overall including car, house, furtnishings, food, freinds. While she is raising her son, she -- not a boy, is still ignorant of what boys are, how they change, what they do. Not wanting the son to feel unloved, the mother may overcompensate by either having a series of not-so good role models around or tragically either no role models (wishing to do it all herself) or only family members who are helpful, but aren't a good mix of some differing perspectives. Also, there may be difficulty finding a family member wishing to be father or uncle figure. Perhaps they are too busy or unwilling. The child, bored, seeks out others. Perhaps he finds positive role models, but perhaps not. Again ... a static evironment, leads to boredom. Through growing periods, boys will have testtosterone surges that will make them react like a woman during her menstration cylce ... happy, moody, wild, aggressive ... aloof. During the teen years, this doesn't quiet down or have months off. He never knows what he is. She's in control, but perhaps too much. Perhaps women, for this boy are unimportant or over dominant.
Mother C: a better situation for many. She is capable of caring for herself and at least one other. She is raising her child. She's doing very well and makes opportnities for her son that others could not. To overcompensate for the lack of father, she is all things ... and will not allow others to destroy what she has created. This will-be man is constantly shielded and protected from all things, including his own wrong-doings. While this doesn't, perhaps encourage violence toward women, but it may develop into a poor perspective, in that women are his servents or they are general pawns ... and that men are greater -- especially him.
Anyway ... the hypothosis --- examples, nothwithstanding is: a growing populaiton of women-controlled (single motherhood) of so many single or groups of boys, contributes to the perspective of the need to dominate women -- if through no other means ... sex or through violence.
In the develeopment of sex, it is a hormonal stimulating act, which requires stimulation of testtosterone and adrenaline. Through years of disturbance, and fear, sex becomes and stimulating act of control and dominance. Escalating this to sadism and sexual sadism (including rape) would then not be unpredictable. Preferences for ages may be an overextention of inferiority, fear, and anger. An easier target is one who is more easily dominated -- physically. Thereofore, younger targets are prefered, at least at first.
Cunning can be a powerful addition, in that deception is a greater part of seducing and illiciting a desired response.
NOTE: urban is exactly that... urban. I mean that an urbanite can be of any color, creed, etc.
So very rude
patting your lover's bottom ... "Is this seat taken?"
Hey! That guy didn't get the baseball anywhere!
He's got four balls.
Walk with pride me lad.
Hey! That guy didn't get the baseball anywhere!
He's got four balls.
Walk with pride me lad.
Fixing a ladder
An old ladder in the garage to the attic space ... broke, snapped in half, ergo ... kaput.
Now. How do you fix the ladder?
Cut off broken ends; buy new bolts; attach pipe tape (metal hole-punched bands); drill holes; test out fixed ladder.
If ladder breaks; redo
If holes are too close; redo
If you are not interested in project; too bad
The ladder is fixed on the only warm day for January
Car is getting flunky ...
How to fix that car ...
plant C-4; move car to remote location nowhere near any other building or living thing; detonate; be sure to video the explosion and the process
Grin with great pride
Now. How do you fix the ladder?
Cut off broken ends; buy new bolts; attach pipe tape (metal hole-punched bands); drill holes; test out fixed ladder.
If ladder breaks; redo
If holes are too close; redo
If you are not interested in project; too bad
The ladder is fixed on the only warm day for January
Car is getting flunky ...
How to fix that car ...
plant C-4; move car to remote location nowhere near any other building or living thing; detonate; be sure to video the explosion and the process
Grin with great pride
Sunday, January 15, 2006
oh, oh, oh ... I'm so misinformed
Here, I got rumors that Larry Wachowski is a transexual. That's all wrong, maybe. Apparently he's a cross-dresser. That's all right then?
Gross.
BTW: I hated the movies.
Gross.
BTW: I hated the movies.
Dear Indy,
If you give the ultimatum of: "If you won't build us a new stadium, we're going to leave", then don't let the door hit you on the ____ on the way out!
Again ... high hopes -- _____ing rubber tree plant or something like that!
Again ... high hopes -- _____ing rubber tree plant or something like that!
This is my message to the Colts!
Grandpas
a teacher was giggling to herself that students were not talking about each other's mothers, nor about each other, but rather trying to get a rise from one another by critiquing or insulting each other's grandfathers. New generation, same story -- level of attack the same, target slightly varied.
smoker
a guy with big, bushy hair was sitting, idly watching another person bowl, when he instinctively put his had to his head. The hand held a cigarette which was, of course, hot enough to heat the bountiful hair. TS noticed this and shouted to him, "Larry, your hair's on fire!" He got only a grumble, mumble. "Larry, your hair's on fire!" Grumble, mumble ... huh? He wildly beats at the site of fire in a panic jumping up and down.
Tip: don't have bushy hair or don't smoke.
Tip: don't have bushy hair or don't smoke.
Ninja bowler
I bowled on a high school league, later at "midnight bowling" with friends. I was never as interested nor intrigued about it as were they. Still, I did bowl and enjoy it when I was in my 20s. I had, to say the least, a poor and quirky style of bowler that caught many people as a guy with the weird stance and throw. Ninja? Why ninja?
On the net today you will see many people who are great fans of Chuck Norris. I too, WAS a Chuck Norris film fan, never having an opinion on the man himself. Granted he's in better shape than I have ever been and will ever be, but I don't watch his work any more.
Anyway ... never having had any training didn't stop me from kicking and punching in a really random manner, hoping that somehow by freakishly doing so, I too would become martial arts master. Many object died due to my perspective. Glasses were smashed onto the ground with my childish thought that with enough speed, a cup would be gravitationally attached to my hand as I rotated it at great speeds. Nope. I spun my hand and it dropped ... shattered, having served its matyr purpose.
One, funnier epside, sad for the slain objects, was when we were playing pool at MR's house, ISJ decided to pitch a bottle cap unto my head. Although it wasn't my shot, I held onto the cue stick, my mighty weapon -- as it turned it was my mighty weapon. It was told to me that much like the slow-motion in many action movies, they watched the cap flip end-over-end til it reached me. It was luck that it hit me, much less my head.
Now. How would a normal person react to be hit lightly by something? They might look around in wonder. I am not the typical person. Armed with the staff of doom, I swung around slashing and smashing anything within a 2' radius. After the 7 second attack, the pool table had a board off and on the floor; at least one picture from the wall was down and the glass broken; the cue stick shaken, but not broken; the walled were scarred a bit; a can lay dead, gushing its contents onto the carpet.
Uh, why? No one knows. I don't know why either. Quick, impulsive responses ... not ninja like -- just wild, uncontrolled recklessness. I was never a good bowler, never a martial artist, but it made a good title for some one who could destroy a room, without a reason that even he could explain.
On the net today you will see many people who are great fans of Chuck Norris. I too, WAS a Chuck Norris film fan, never having an opinion on the man himself. Granted he's in better shape than I have ever been and will ever be, but I don't watch his work any more.
Anyway ... never having had any training didn't stop me from kicking and punching in a really random manner, hoping that somehow by freakishly doing so, I too would become martial arts master. Many object died due to my perspective. Glasses were smashed onto the ground with my childish thought that with enough speed, a cup would be gravitationally attached to my hand as I rotated it at great speeds. Nope. I spun my hand and it dropped ... shattered, having served its matyr purpose.
One, funnier epside, sad for the slain objects, was when we were playing pool at MR's house, ISJ decided to pitch a bottle cap unto my head. Although it wasn't my shot, I held onto the cue stick, my mighty weapon -- as it turned it was my mighty weapon. It was told to me that much like the slow-motion in many action movies, they watched the cap flip end-over-end til it reached me. It was luck that it hit me, much less my head.
Now. How would a normal person react to be hit lightly by something? They might look around in wonder. I am not the typical person. Armed with the staff of doom, I swung around slashing and smashing anything within a 2' radius. After the 7 second attack, the pool table had a board off and on the floor; at least one picture from the wall was down and the glass broken; the cue stick shaken, but not broken; the walled were scarred a bit; a can lay dead, gushing its contents onto the carpet.
Uh, why? No one knows. I don't know why either. Quick, impulsive responses ... not ninja like -- just wild, uncontrolled recklessness. I was never a good bowler, never a martial artist, but it made a good title for some one who could destroy a room, without a reason that even he could explain.
ebb and flow of chronic madness
allergies: reactions to environmental factors, either developmental or congenital. Through habituation, toxins can either build up or be more easily blocked by genetic factors, metabolic adaptations or time-specific changes. Alcohol, for well-seasoned drinkers has a smaller symptomatic affect, whereas intermittant or non-drinkers react, in accordance to their specific absortions and metabolism, more dramatically and generally faster. Moreover, environmental factors, unrelated to voluntary consumption, is more critical to address.
In my experience I have a few notable strong allergies. Fully recognizing them and identifying symptomology and characteristic changes took many years better understand. First: smoke, addressing first smoke from cigarettes. I would surmise that tobacco itself is a key allergy for me, but more over, the many, many chemicals consistant with cigarettes (I presume American -- as I don't think I've had much experience otherwise) either sigularly or in combinations with themselves or environmentally -- higher oxygen or nitrogen levels, etc.
My primary reactions and sympotomology to exposure are: sinus pressure (I believe habituation has prompted my body to predictable responses such as accelerated mucus production), over-stimulation of salavary glands, tear ducts, and generalized shortness of breath. Certainly not to test this hypothosis, but rather out of sheer stupidity, I tried smoking a cigarette several times. I was told I was not doing it right, for I was not breathing in the smoke, but rather leaving it puffed out like oral-borne halitosis. I took a, and only one, puff inhalation. I found out then what nastiness was. I thought eating bugs would be finer. I turned green, spit gray into the sink for 3 solid minutes. I had an instant headache and was thereafter nausiated. Wow! I could could have tried that until I got over that period of habituation ... no thanks.
I also tried smoking a pipe, which I did choose for the reasons of stupidity, fond memories of my uncle's pipe smoking (it had a nice aroma) and because it was less foul smelling than cigarettes. I also was not inclined to inhale the smoke. This produced some interesting, but longer lasting effects. I had an impaired voice for 8-18 hours after exposure. I had mildly-blurred vision for 4-6 hours. My sense of taste was negliable. Despite drinking gallons of water (yes gallson, for through habitiuation I am able to drink 1.5 liters in one long drink), my thirst was never quenched. Because my vision was faulty, my coordination was at fault as well. My smoking days were thankfully short-lived, being around 9-14 months.
Alcohol, another common toxin, with which I have had much experience I can list any number of reactions that are (apart from over-indulgence yielding vomitting and dehydration):
two beers (24 oz total) -- general sleepiness
tequilla straight -- aggression (free-floating anger)
wine -- giddiness, hyperactivity (geometic escalation)
rum -- like wine, but expotential ascalation
schnapps -- restlessness, dehydration, non-cognitive responses
kaluha -- hyperactivity, aggression, non-cognitive responses
sherry -- non-cognitive responses, sleepiness, unemotive rude responses
mead -- like wine, but to a lesser degree, mixed with sinus pressure and capillary spams
Many peopel over the globe love chocolate. I'm sure, at some point I loved it too. Perhaps more importantly, I recognized my allergy to this. It affects me much like some people react to cocaine -- mild euphoria mixed with hyperactivity, impulsivity, at times -- rudeness and aggression with little/no provocation. For this reason, I do not partake in chocolate, as it doesn't mix with company. Secondary reactions to this are cranio-facial muscular "tics", regional capillary spams, adrenaline overexpression, tunnel-vision diminshment of olfaction and delay of auditory simuli.
As for my general madness, I account for it by adatption to environmental, both voluntary and involuntary consumption / exposure and asocial psyche, denying rationale behind avoidance. Moreover, acceptence of general delusional feelings, auto-developed and chemical specific. Simply stated: I learned to cope with reality and fiction (reality with toxins) in a self-preserving way, so that self-preservation was foremost above conscious of others.
Now, reflecting, I can see (20/20) the many asocial responses that have developed me into what I was and am. I, hopefuly am developing new responses and reactions to reality more consistent with social cognition, than that of perfunctory and impulsive ones. It's strange then, that I, an immoral and asocial person, should choose a profession that would require those traits that I have chosen -- so many years -- to deny and abolish within myself.
[in comes the tide of sanity -- surely to go out again]
In my experience I have a few notable strong allergies. Fully recognizing them and identifying symptomology and characteristic changes took many years better understand. First: smoke, addressing first smoke from cigarettes. I would surmise that tobacco itself is a key allergy for me, but more over, the many, many chemicals consistant with cigarettes (I presume American -- as I don't think I've had much experience otherwise) either sigularly or in combinations with themselves or environmentally -- higher oxygen or nitrogen levels, etc.
My primary reactions and sympotomology to exposure are: sinus pressure (I believe habituation has prompted my body to predictable responses such as accelerated mucus production), over-stimulation of salavary glands, tear ducts, and generalized shortness of breath. Certainly not to test this hypothosis, but rather out of sheer stupidity, I tried smoking a cigarette several times. I was told I was not doing it right, for I was not breathing in the smoke, but rather leaving it puffed out like oral-borne halitosis. I took a, and only one, puff inhalation. I found out then what nastiness was. I thought eating bugs would be finer. I turned green, spit gray into the sink for 3 solid minutes. I had an instant headache and was thereafter nausiated. Wow! I could could have tried that until I got over that period of habituation ... no thanks.
I also tried smoking a pipe, which I did choose for the reasons of stupidity, fond memories of my uncle's pipe smoking (it had a nice aroma) and because it was less foul smelling than cigarettes. I also was not inclined to inhale the smoke. This produced some interesting, but longer lasting effects. I had an impaired voice for 8-18 hours after exposure. I had mildly-blurred vision for 4-6 hours. My sense of taste was negliable. Despite drinking gallons of water (yes gallson, for through habitiuation I am able to drink 1.5 liters in one long drink), my thirst was never quenched. Because my vision was faulty, my coordination was at fault as well. My smoking days were thankfully short-lived, being around 9-14 months.
Alcohol, another common toxin, with which I have had much experience I can list any number of reactions that are (apart from over-indulgence yielding vomitting and dehydration):
two beers (24 oz total) -- general sleepiness
tequilla straight -- aggression (free-floating anger)
wine -- giddiness, hyperactivity (geometic escalation)
rum -- like wine, but expotential ascalation
schnapps -- restlessness, dehydration, non-cognitive responses
kaluha -- hyperactivity, aggression, non-cognitive responses
sherry -- non-cognitive responses, sleepiness, unemotive rude responses
mead -- like wine, but to a lesser degree, mixed with sinus pressure and capillary spams
Many peopel over the globe love chocolate. I'm sure, at some point I loved it too. Perhaps more importantly, I recognized my allergy to this. It affects me much like some people react to cocaine -- mild euphoria mixed with hyperactivity, impulsivity, at times -- rudeness and aggression with little/no provocation. For this reason, I do not partake in chocolate, as it doesn't mix with company. Secondary reactions to this are cranio-facial muscular "tics", regional capillary spams, adrenaline overexpression, tunnel-vision diminshment of olfaction and delay of auditory simuli.
As for my general madness, I account for it by adatption to environmental, both voluntary and involuntary consumption / exposure and asocial psyche, denying rationale behind avoidance. Moreover, acceptence of general delusional feelings, auto-developed and chemical specific. Simply stated: I learned to cope with reality and fiction (reality with toxins) in a self-preserving way, so that self-preservation was foremost above conscious of others.
Now, reflecting, I can see (20/20) the many asocial responses that have developed me into what I was and am. I, hopefuly am developing new responses and reactions to reality more consistent with social cognition, than that of perfunctory and impulsive ones. It's strange then, that I, an immoral and asocial person, should choose a profession that would require those traits that I have chosen -- so many years -- to deny and abolish within myself.
[in comes the tide of sanity -- surely to go out again]
"Friction"
Lori's funny critique of my statement of always being hot when in bed -- to be sleeping.
"I can't sleep at night ... I'm always hot!"
"Friction will do that", said Lori. Her implication was that since I had no bedmate (girlfriend or wife) that the "heat" must be from some other under-the-covers action.
Very funny! Thanks!
"I can't sleep at night ... I'm always hot!"
"Friction will do that", said Lori. Her implication was that since I had no bedmate (girlfriend or wife) that the "heat" must be from some other under-the-covers action.
Very funny! Thanks!
Saturday, January 14, 2006
scrubbing bubbles
Tonight I found myself at the scene of an unwritten play -- staring Rescue Rangers in a pedestal sink with bubbles. They pitched each other into the water, then "bad guys", then went searching for tutrles and fish. Sadly, Orange Guy always had the misfortune of the torrent of conical rain dashed upon him when he tried to resurface. A reounding laughter of the contoller shook the basin itself.
"No! Wait til he gets to his feet, then drop the rock on him!" -- Who Framed Roger Rabbit?
Bubbles ... outside ... in 25 degree weather ... yes! Also, thankfully, the short term of this as the cold cement was nasty on the tookas.
This was followed by Stooges ... and attempted squashings.
For dinner --- 4 different stops ... KFC, McDonalds, Taco Bell, and Coffee shop
There are some things in life that you can't buy --- like your time, for everything else ... there's your salary.
"I love you, Marcus" -- can't be bought --- thankfully, I earned it!
"No! Wait til he gets to his feet, then drop the rock on him!" -- Who Framed Roger Rabbit?
Bubbles ... outside ... in 25 degree weather ... yes! Also, thankfully, the short term of this as the cold cement was nasty on the tookas.
This was followed by Stooges ... and attempted squashings.
For dinner --- 4 different stops ... KFC, McDonalds, Taco Bell, and Coffee shop
There are some things in life that you can't buy --- like your time, for everything else ... there's your salary.
"I love you, Marcus" -- can't be bought --- thankfully, I earned it!
Max
As in maximum. Max Payne ... in loading, in waiting, in unskippable movies ... in keeping settings (re-setting POV when on stairs). Max (imum) Payne in the ___.
Darn you Cerpicio!!!!
I've a song in my head all day because you! It's a very funny one, mind you, but I hoped other thoughts might enter my mind as well!
http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=5430343841227974645&q=what+internet+is+for
Extremely funny the first time!
http://video.google.com/videoplay?docid=5430343841227974645&q=what+internet+is+for
Extremely funny the first time!
Thursday, January 12, 2006
funny child quote
The game actually exists:
http://www.addictinggames.com/monkey.html
His quote while on the internet was, "Spank the monkey! That's my favorite game!"
http://www.addictinggames.com/monkey.html
His quote while on the internet was, "Spank the monkey! That's my favorite game!"
Wednesday, January 11, 2006
Looking for Lenny Bruce
If anyone has Mask Man aka Thank you Mask Man, please let me know. I have been looking for it for a while to put on DVD. I found no legitimate seller -- only those selling a dupicated (rough) copy thrown onto DVD for $15 not including shipping.
“Bull____ man! That was the deal! You said I could have anything I want … that’s what I want!”
The parties responsible for using fewer quotations have been sacked. Those responsible for sacking those people, have also been sacked.
“Bull____ man! That was the deal! You said I could have anything I want … that’s what I want!”
...
Mind you, moose bites can be quite painful.The parties responsible for using fewer quotations have been sacked. Those responsible for sacking those people, have also been sacked.
the term, "Fathering"
is usually wrongly used. Too often people view fathers as those that contribute genetic material.
In my previous entry I mentioned -- insulted, Lost, for it's shortcomings. I read a blurb on Naveen Andrews "
'Lost' star admits fathering child while separated from Barbara Hershey". That is more urban vernacular. Lions sire cubs, often killing other cubs either his own or others to get the lioness into estris. That guy doesn't smell like my spermazoa [mauling of cub]. This concept of siring as many his-scented youth as possible is urban fathering.
If only America could wake up a bit and turn on the "mental gears". I could throw money at a situation or I could involve myself in it and help it. Siring and then paying some money to the "mother" for the child (ren) is much like throwing money at a so-called problem. Invest yourself in it -- be the solution -- or the father, bringing to it your values, your input, your goals to make life what it should be.
Male lions in a pride generally don't hunt (not providers), take their share first, and (aforementioned) with cubs. They serve a protective role at times, but are generally not integral to the life of the pride. I was very fortunate in having a father who raised me. I am also from a family of non-divorced parents. This didn't prevent me from divorcing, but I "sired" no children and had I done so -- a difficult life they would have had no matter how much effort I put forth -- save being granted full and sole custody. Even that would have had its consequences.
Think, before you sire. A pack of your gene-filled people shouldn't fill you with pride if you have done nothing to bring them to be who they could be -- raising and fathering.
--please end--
In my previous entry I mentioned -- insulted, Lost, for it's shortcomings. I read a blurb on Naveen Andrews "
'Lost' star admits fathering child while separated from Barbara Hershey". That is more urban vernacular. Lions sire cubs, often killing other cubs either his own or others to get the lioness into estris. That guy doesn't smell like my spermazoa [mauling of cub]. This concept of siring as many his-scented youth as possible is urban fathering.
If only America could wake up a bit and turn on the "mental gears". I could throw money at a situation or I could involve myself in it and help it. Siring and then paying some money to the "mother" for the child (ren) is much like throwing money at a so-called problem. Invest yourself in it -- be the solution -- or the father, bringing to it your values, your input, your goals to make life what it should be.
Male lions in a pride generally don't hunt (not providers), take their share first, and (aforementioned) with cubs. They serve a protective role at times, but are generally not integral to the life of the pride. I was very fortunate in having a father who raised me. I am also from a family of non-divorced parents. This didn't prevent me from divorcing, but I "sired" no children and had I done so -- a difficult life they would have had no matter how much effort I put forth -- save being granted full and sole custody. Even that would have had its consequences.
Think, before you sire. A pack of your gene-filled people shouldn't fill you with pride if you have done nothing to bring them to be who they could be -- raising and fathering.
--please end--
Lost in Complaining
I have a limited interest in the show, Lost. I asked a friend about it to find out that they don't have a new episode yet -- 4 weeks, no new show. Gosh! That's gotta be hard, working there in uncomfortable Hawaii with nothing to do. I can see why it would be difficult to get the cast back to Hawaii to do more shooting.
"Hey, no! I'm staying here in Flint, Michigan, pushing out snow, thanks. Later this week I'm going to ultra-rural Saskatewan* and start building a house."
"Get on with it!" -- M Python
"Of course, I could be wrong you know." -- Bugs, WB
"Wrong? Wrong?! You ain't never been right!" -- Platoon
Anyway. I got this idea for a show about a mysterious torpical island. On it there are polar bears, company controlled / made sharks, hidden research bunkers, supposedly-derranged inhabitants, grayish invisibeats. There are hints to other mysteries and the Pennsylvania-sized island can't be found by any known technological means.
Okay... sounds good. What do you have so far. I have two scenes with a bear, four scenes with the invisibeast, 4 seconds of the shark.
What else?
I have great stories about people on the island, before they were there, including stories about characters of the 40 some that I just kill off anyway.
ummm ... okay. Anything else?
They now play golf on the untamed and dangerous island and heroin is available.
Uh, okay. So, [a sourness in his face, he directs attention to another person at the table], you had a new version of Three's Company in mind?
* Sassparilla, sassafras, Sesame? Hasann chop!
"Hey, no! I'm staying here in Flint, Michigan, pushing out snow, thanks. Later this week I'm going to ultra-rural Saskatewan* and start building a house."
"Get on with it!" -- M Python
"Of course, I could be wrong you know." -- Bugs, WB
"Wrong? Wrong?! You ain't never been right!" -- Platoon
Anyway. I got this idea for a show about a mysterious torpical island. On it there are polar bears, company controlled / made sharks, hidden research bunkers, supposedly-derranged inhabitants, grayish invisibeats. There are hints to other mysteries and the Pennsylvania-sized island can't be found by any known technological means.
Okay... sounds good. What do you have so far. I have two scenes with a bear, four scenes with the invisibeast, 4 seconds of the shark.
What else?
I have great stories about people on the island, before they were there, including stories about characters of the 40 some that I just kill off anyway.
ummm ... okay. Anything else?
They now play golf on the untamed and dangerous island and heroin is available.
Uh, okay. So, [a sourness in his face, he directs attention to another person at the table], you had a new version of Three's Company in mind?
* Sassparilla, sassafras, Sesame? Hasann chop!
Kari Byron -- again
What I could find was that she is a sculpter -- apparently a good (or renown) one from Frisco and a vegetarian. So far, that's not a lot of info.
comedy of vocation
Education is a great resource for humor. Yesterday I was asked if they could do, individual work together. My answer was no, but I was reminded of, "Let's be independant together". Thanks Herbie!
watching TV
I'm not known for my love of movies or TV. I haven't liked sit-coms in a llllllloooooooooonnnnnnnnnnggggggg time. That being the case, I sometimes find a show that I do like. I used to like Discovery Channel, until it and it's compadre's: History, TLC, Animal Planet, etc. decided that everyone would love to have a program they are watching blocked out -- sometimes up to 25% by USELESS animations of their other shows. I thought the corner label on the programs were bad -- thanks T Turner for starting that! Coupled with that are the commercial break so long that I often change the channel, forgetting that I was once watching Discovery or whatever. My criping aside.
I got to see Mythbusters, which can be entertaining. Sometimes it is more like idea ADHD -- are you planning on completing any ideas here? I like the ideas. I have become captivated by Kari Byron, about whom little information seems available.
She seems practical, comical and clever. When I saw her smile, that's what captured my attention. [drone on here concerning interest]
The same channel that does this includes a show with Jessie James something, who contributes to building various one-time things. I couldn't bear to watch the show anymore, as his personality is grating and his happy recalling of childhood violence towards others including a neighbor boy whom he claimed to have happily choked (implying to a painful degree). This guy has a son. I would hestitate to call him a father as that is a person who raises their child to be an adult capable of existing in the world -- hopefully, sans prison/jail.
What's another really bad idea from this group ... Growing Uo Gotti. Hey! Let's focus on a family whose criminal activity, either theirs or other family memebers who have a lot of money. Let's help those watching become complacent with the mafia and criminals. Yes! Let's copy HBO with their ideas of Sopranos and OZ with violence, evil, raping, killing, drugs, abuse (of many forms). Now that's entertainment. I guess if Eninem is still popular with songs of putting GHB into drinks to rape women and his lyrics stating his desire for a woman to do whatever, whenever, in perpetuity -- these will be the standard.
Not to me.
Returning to Mythbusters ... violence is either to Buster -- a disintigrating dummy with variable insturment chasis, Black Adder, or to the two would-be investigators who welcome their own doom on some occasions.
I got to see Mythbusters, which can be entertaining. Sometimes it is more like idea ADHD -- are you planning on completing any ideas here? I like the ideas. I have become captivated by Kari Byron, about whom little information seems available.
She seems practical, comical and clever. When I saw her smile, that's what captured my attention. [drone on here concerning interest]
The same channel that does this includes a show with Jessie James something, who contributes to building various one-time things. I couldn't bear to watch the show anymore, as his personality is grating and his happy recalling of childhood violence towards others including a neighbor boy whom he claimed to have happily choked (implying to a painful degree). This guy has a son. I would hestitate to call him a father as that is a person who raises their child to be an adult capable of existing in the world -- hopefully, sans prison/jail.
What's another really bad idea from this group ... Growing Uo Gotti. Hey! Let's focus on a family whose criminal activity, either theirs or other family memebers who have a lot of money. Let's help those watching become complacent with the mafia and criminals. Yes! Let's copy HBO with their ideas of Sopranos and OZ with violence, evil, raping, killing, drugs, abuse (of many forms). Now that's entertainment. I guess if Eninem is still popular with songs of putting GHB into drinks to rape women and his lyrics stating his desire for a woman to do whatever, whenever, in perpetuity -- these will be the standard.
Not to me.
Returning to Mythbusters ... violence is either to Buster -- a disintigrating dummy with variable insturment chasis, Black Adder, or to the two would-be investigators who welcome their own doom on some occasions.