This a.m. I was thinking about, just about. I was wondering if I should go on telling my stories or not. I never do get around to a lot of them. Such as Dorie, Jenny, or funky Christine out in N.H. (Thats a good funk) Being a poor typist I also thought about how much I leave out due to laziness. A story I can tell in five minutes, provided I don't get side tracked, takes me an hour to write. Then for some reason I thought about weapons I have had pulled on me. Due to my interaction with officers of the law there was off course guns, but the strangest was a meat cleaver and sharpening rod. Two questions came to mind. Where was he hiding that cleaver, and why didn't I see it coming.
Never knew a butchers daughter, but I did know a couple dealers that wanted to make mincemeat out of me.
Friday, January 30, 2009
Friday, January 23, 2009
Three cheers for the red, white, and blue
Now don't go thinking I'm getting all patriotic on you. Just settling in for a round of Chimays. Now that the subject has been brought up, have you heard that black is the new white? In all seriousness, the era of change is here. Spare change that is. Tell me, how could so many people swallow this "I'm different...Fresh....An outsider....An ambassador of change"? This widget is a bi product of the same machine (welcome) that pushed out Bush, Cheney, Clinton, Edwards, and Dean. Nothing new will come from this egomaniac. That smug smile needs a sock to the jaw. Who was/is more naive? The Chocolate (white chocolate) Jesus that thinks he can make a change, or the roop scoops that voted for him believing in the same?
You may find this hard to believe, but I have a couple of ideas that will definitely bring about change. Both fall under the category of REVOLUTION. In the real sense of the word. Not by the means of another schooled and groomed, mind manicured automaton. System number one (yes I'm a man of the system) is the traditional violent uprising. (I have the feeling that this will need to be led by The Cheese) To the victor will go the spoils and no amount of whining by the losers will get them concessions...or tax free casinos. System #2 is more complicated and involves redrawing borders, and life long commitments by all North American individuals.
More on this after I tell you about Dory and the Aunt Jamima lady. And yes, I still have that broken glass.
You may find this hard to believe, but I have a couple of ideas that will definitely bring about change. Both fall under the category of REVOLUTION. In the real sense of the word. Not by the means of another schooled and groomed, mind manicured automaton. System number one (yes I'm a man of the system) is the traditional violent uprising. (I have the feeling that this will need to be led by The Cheese) To the victor will go the spoils and no amount of whining by the losers will get them concessions...or tax free casinos. System #2 is more complicated and involves redrawing borders, and life long commitments by all North American individuals.
More on this after I tell you about Dory and the Aunt Jamima lady. And yes, I still have that broken glass.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Sunday, January 18, 2009
This is only a test
Well this is my second weekend with out drinking, which would make it three weeks on Friday. (I don't usually drink during the week...depending on how pathetique my work day goes) Knowing my past I feel it is best to sit back once in a while and lay off, just to make sure that I can. There is also another reason. I am saving money so that I can place an order with liduidsolutions.biz. In imitation of the Trappist monks I will then drink in search of an out of body experience. Speaking of which, remind me to tell you the story about the gnome that was shaking the sidewalk. I wasn't the only one to see/notice this.
But back to "this is only a test" of the emergency broadcast system. For those of you old enough to remember television before cable, do you remember when in the midst of your favorite show the screen would go black and the local station would put up a "Please stand by" graphic. Of course someone would get up and stand next to the t.v. in hopes of their proximity to the television would satisfy the stations need for a stand by.
So my self help book. I see so many in a day that it makes we want to vomit. Mine would be one page, one paragraph. No need to check in to rehab or attend meetings. The answer is quite simple, and for only $15.95 I will email the solution to all you dependency problems.
But back to "this is only a test" of the emergency broadcast system. For those of you old enough to remember television before cable, do you remember when in the midst of your favorite show the screen would go black and the local station would put up a "Please stand by" graphic. Of course someone would get up and stand next to the t.v. in hopes of their proximity to the television would satisfy the stations need for a stand by.
So my self help book. I see so many in a day that it makes we want to vomit. Mine would be one page, one paragraph. No need to check in to rehab or attend meetings. The answer is quite simple, and for only $15.95 I will email the solution to all you dependency problems.
Saturday, January 3, 2009
AN EPIPHANY
So for many years I have been moving around the country, even hoping to get out of the country. People will often ask me what I am running from and in return I would ask them if they had thought about what I might be running to.
So what am I running to? I'll tell you when I run into it. As for what I am running from, death. It appears as tho I have had this thought in the back of my mind. When I settle down, saying this is where I want to live the rest of my life, I am conceding to the fact that I will be dying. Where as if I continually move I at would have the thought of "at least I won't die hear". There by never having to face my mortality.
That now brings me to the planning of my funeral. This idea actually came to me several years ago. You know, when you die others will be planning your funeral the way they see best, not necessarily how you would like it to be.
As I lay in my casket I will be surrounded by ice and beer, barley wines and Belgians. The only bottle opener in the joint will be in my cold, dead hand, irremovable due to rig amortise. As people hang out and commiserate (that is if I haven't become such a hermit to no longer know any one) saying "Do you remember that time Pauly..." or "whatever becomes of great bands like Chumba Wumba?", a loop of WILD HORSES as played by the Stones, Old and In The Way, and The Sundays will play over and over. When a crescendo hits, this you will know by the opening notes of Helter Skelter, every one will smash their bottles and glasses on the floor. After that you can bury me, burn me, or float me down a river. Either way I don't care and won't know.
So what am I running to? I'll tell you when I run into it. As for what I am running from, death. It appears as tho I have had this thought in the back of my mind. When I settle down, saying this is where I want to live the rest of my life, I am conceding to the fact that I will be dying. Where as if I continually move I at would have the thought of "at least I won't die hear". There by never having to face my mortality.
That now brings me to the planning of my funeral. This idea actually came to me several years ago. You know, when you die others will be planning your funeral the way they see best, not necessarily how you would like it to be.
As I lay in my casket I will be surrounded by ice and beer, barley wines and Belgians. The only bottle opener in the joint will be in my cold, dead hand, irremovable due to rig amortise. As people hang out and commiserate (that is if I haven't become such a hermit to no longer know any one) saying "Do you remember that time Pauly..." or "whatever becomes of great bands like Chumba Wumba?", a loop of WILD HORSES as played by the Stones, Old and In The Way, and The Sundays will play over and over. When a crescendo hits, this you will know by the opening notes of Helter Skelter, every one will smash their bottles and glasses on the floor. After that you can bury me, burn me, or float me down a river. Either way I don't care and won't know.
A HORSE IS A HORSE OF COURSE OF COURSE UNLESS...
We all know that YOU CAN LEAD A HORSE TO WATER BUT YOU CAN'T MAKE IT DRINK.
This leads me to ponder, IF YOU DON'T LEAD A HORSE TO WATER WILL IT GO WITHOUT DRINKING? And the snowballing continues. I examine horse society. The rolling thunder of hooves fills my head. I can only hope that they stop to drink. Suddenly there is a calm. They have discovered the reservoir that I hold in case of emergency. It tickles as they lap it up. People stare as I laugh at what seems to be no reason. My guffaw startles the horses and they're up and running again. Oddly enough, 90% of them took off in the same direction. After calming, they return to the same pool. I feel the strays meandering about in the different regions of my mind. They know that they will find the sources that feed that watering hole and be refreshed from a purer, flowing source (If they nose around they may find some left over mushrooms).
Back at the main herd things have changed. Sated, the horses stand about, occasionally returning to drink from the same trough as the others. I notice that they neither whinny or neigh. There is no bucking, just lazing about and sucking it up. But then of course I hear the horse talk. All of them! Was it something in the water? Or possibly it was nothing in the water. Listening more closely I hear nothing but PCCP, pop culture catch phrases. Horse sense? People sense? Non sense? No sense makes sense. Read into this what you will.
As for myself, I eat when I'm hungry and drink when I'm dry. I kick up my hooves when I'm happy, and never, ever knuckle bump. (do you remember when the term knuckle bump meant fighting?)
Got to go. I'm hungry and thirsty. Grazing in the grass is a gas, baby can you dig it. I can dig it, she can dig it, he can dig it. Can you dig it? Can you dig it baby?
This leads me to ponder, IF YOU DON'T LEAD A HORSE TO WATER WILL IT GO WITHOUT DRINKING? And the snowballing continues. I examine horse society. The rolling thunder of hooves fills my head. I can only hope that they stop to drink. Suddenly there is a calm. They have discovered the reservoir that I hold in case of emergency. It tickles as they lap it up. People stare as I laugh at what seems to be no reason. My guffaw startles the horses and they're up and running again. Oddly enough, 90% of them took off in the same direction. After calming, they return to the same pool. I feel the strays meandering about in the different regions of my mind. They know that they will find the sources that feed that watering hole and be refreshed from a purer, flowing source (If they nose around they may find some left over mushrooms).
Back at the main herd things have changed. Sated, the horses stand about, occasionally returning to drink from the same trough as the others. I notice that they neither whinny or neigh. There is no bucking, just lazing about and sucking it up. But then of course I hear the horse talk. All of them! Was it something in the water? Or possibly it was nothing in the water. Listening more closely I hear nothing but PCCP, pop culture catch phrases. Horse sense? People sense? Non sense? No sense makes sense. Read into this what you will.
As for myself, I eat when I'm hungry and drink when I'm dry. I kick up my hooves when I'm happy, and never, ever knuckle bump. (do you remember when the term knuckle bump meant fighting?)
Got to go. I'm hungry and thirsty. Grazing in the grass is a gas, baby can you dig it. I can dig it, she can dig it, he can dig it. Can you dig it? Can you dig it baby?
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