ONE WIND = THREE HILLS

Or
ASK A STUPID QUESTION, GET A STUPID ANSWER

Well, after looking at the dream I posted up at 2.22 AM last night, still sportin’ wood and everything, I almost wish I had'nt because it is kinda rude.
But that has never much stopped me before, has it?

Any way, I know what that dream was all about.
Seems like I was in a running battle with just about everybody I had to deal with last week, except for the Xmrs Bulletholes.
I was asking questions I wasn’t supposed to ask, and even if it was a good question, I phrased it wrongly.
People were asking me some of the most dipshit questions I ever heard, all designed to inflict some kind of mental anguish in me, or to reduce my overall self-image.
I was coming up with ideas, good ones too, all soundly rejected.
I offered great suggestions that would save money time and material. All dismissed casually by the powers that be.
I can't think of a single thing I talked about last week that anyone had ani idea what the hell I was talking about.

I was the recipient of 173 eye-rolls that I am aware of.
I got 1 lousy "Good Morning" and 6 direct "fuck-You's", one of them coming from the nice Christian lady that lives around the corner. That was my fault though, you shouldn't share your blog with people you blog about.

A little old lady at the Supermarket hit me with her purse when I reached to pick up the quarter she dropped.
The little doggie that lives next door, the one it took a year to befriend, started back to barking incessantly every time I walked out my door.
My key broke off in the mailbox, and the Post Office wants to charge me $50 to fix it.
No Sunday Paper. I don't want to fight over a newspaper.
I called an old friend to see if he wanted to go to dinner. We managed to argue about everything including the check. I let him win that one, but I sure remember why I don’t like him much.
That’s all just for starters, just the little stuff.

To cap it all off, I was to have a phone line and Internet installed with AT&T last Monday. In the course of 9 days I was on the phone with them or at one of their worthless little outlets for about 6 hours. If it actually gets installed today, as “Promised” it will be nothing short of a miracle.
Need I say more?
So that is my explanation and apology for such a dream as "Immaculate Conception”.
I can't think of anything I am less interested in arguing about than the Virgin Mary 'cept maybe Dudley Do-Rights horse.

On the bright side, I went for a long bike ride Saturday, and found that for my return journey I would be riding into the teeth of a 35 MPH headwind. So, yeah, Miss Mule, life can be a frightening bitch!

IMMACULATE CONCEPTION

Just woke up, moanin' and groanin'.
Had one of my Patented Church Dreams.
I was in Sunday School and I was debating the Virgin Birth with Sandy, when I did something really detestable.
I resorted to the lowest form of logic called....I don't know what its called...but I was arguing the following point:
"Ya'll aren't the only ones trying to claim a Virgin Birth. There was a Religion that claimed a Virgin Birth thousands of years before Christ so... either ya'll stole it from them, or else it happened again!"
I woke up with my hand down my pajamas, holding my dick.
I think I'll skip church today.

With My Cinnamon Girl

My turn for the Oatmeal Bath.

Its as Easy as Fishin'

Reminds me of my pal Keith, who could lower a hook into a haystack and catch a whole mess o' fish.

Jeremiah was a Bullfrog

Joy to the world
All the boys and girls!

My friend Kim sent quite a number of these pictures to me. I don't know who the Artist is or what city he is in, but his perspective is right-on!

NOT QUITTING MY DAY JOB

Sometimes I come upon a site, and it may be one of my good friends too, and I see that whatever they are writing up today is more than 3 paragraphs long and I’ll thing “Oh Geesh” and I’ll scroll down and find that it is actually like forever long and I’ll think
"Sweet Weepin' Jesus, what the hell are they doing to me?"

So when I get on a trip and start posting these darn 8 part stories, I just gotta figure that ya’ll be doin’ the same thing.
But that’s OKAY man, because I usually go back at some point and read what ya’ll wrote up.
And I hope that you come back when you have time and read about fightin joe because
“one, and this is secondary to my purpose” (have you ever read a stupider sentence?)

Because (1) I never would have thought I could write in the fashion that I have written these
And (2) because it really is a great story!

Here are the links:
P.1 URBAN LEGEND (click here)
P.2 SCARIEST HOUSE ON THE BLOCK (click here)
P.3 THE CONT. CHRONICLES OF FIGHTIN JOE (click here)
P.4 PURCELLS TREEHOUSE (click here)

PURCELLS TREEHOUSE

PART FOUR OF THE CONTINUING CHRONICLES OF FIGHTING JOE

Purcell looked up the three flights of ladders that led to his perch. It was like the worlds biggest Deer Stand, 30 feet up from the blacktop, and situated smack dab in the center of the Drivers Ed Course. From here he could keep an eye on the 15 year old Hoodlums that were learning to drive in his program. Years ago, he felt like he was doing the Community a real service. These days he didn’t know.
Something had changed.
The kids were different, that was for sure. The kids today had changed everything. They had changed in the way they acted, especially towards any authority. They acted so oppressed, like the National Guard had been to their School, fired M-16's into their mob, cut their classmates down, hit their heads with nightsticks and blinded their eyes with tear-gas.
None of that had happened to these kids, so why did they act that way?

When he reached the top and settled in to his chair, he put out the Green Flag indicating the course was open. He fired up the radio with which he could communicate with each car. There was always some joker out there that thought they could get away with something, like smoking a cigarette, or worse, fire up a Reefer, and the CB Radio was there to let the kids know Purcell was on top.
“On top, darn right I’m on top, I’m more on top than that gook sniper that took out my best buddy in the ‘Nam” Purcell thought to himself.
Then he reached into his pocket, pulled out the little silver flask.

Looked like it was gong to be a long morning.

With his Binoculars, he could see Bulletholes up on the hill, right on that blind corner of the building where the gooks, I mean, the Kids, could get away with murder.
Bulletholes! That kid was too sharp to be a slacker, but that’s what he was allright. And now, he and that new kid, blacker than the Ace of Spades, are smokin’ on campus. And it ain’t cigarettes either. There goes the neighborhood.

Whoa! Whats this? Theres Cross-eyed Myra, always lookin' for some trouble. She's found it with those two!
That slut.
Purcell licked his lips and refocused his binoculars for a better look and muttered to himself:
"Every boy in school must be bangin’ that. Every boy but me. What are they lookin at?
Oh shit… Fightin’ Joe and Tiny. Shit, they’re headed this way.
Whats this?
Car 17? Thats Perk, Hogshead and Buck!
They’re pullin’ Perk Perkins out of MY car!"

Purcell took a quick swig from his flask and reached for the Red flag that signalled "All Stop".


(Radio Static)
Purcell:
“Perk, you get that car under control or your ass is grass!
(static)
"Perk, I want your butt back into that drivers seat now!"
(static)
Hogshead, can you hear me? I want you to make Fightin Joe leave Perk alone, and if you can’t do that I order you to gain control of that vehicle!”
(More Radio static)

Purcell gulped hard as he watched Fightin’ Joe wrestle Perk the rest of the way out of the drivers seat. He saw Buck Boopman exit from the rear passenger side door and run for his life. He saw Hogshead exit the passenger seat, go ‘round the rear of the vehicle and try to peel Perk away from Joe.
The whole time, Car 17 was idling along in a slow wide arc, driver-less, but still in gear. But all eyes were on the hand-to-hand combat taking place on turn #3 of Purcells beloved Drivers Ed course.

It looked like Joe was about to remove Perks head, and Perks upper left arm was bent in a most unnatural way having been both broken and dislocated from his shoulder while being extracted from the vehicle. Why Joe went after Perk the driver instead of Buck in the backseat has been a subject of much conjecture for many years now.
Blind rage coupled with mistaken identity seems as likely an answer as any.
Maybe it was just Perks lucky day.
It was only during the investigation the next week that Buck's affair with  Joe's girl Betsye that it came to light.

But now, Purcell could only watch in confused amazement from his Tower..
Joe saw Hogshead approaching from the rear of the car right before he got there..
Hogshead was a big ol boy, but a peaceful, slow-movin' kind of guy, no match for fightin' Joe.
Joe let Perk go and Perk sat there, holding his arm and trying to keep Tiny from pummeling him more with those little fist of his.
Joe squared off and met Hogshead head on with a straight right that would have sunk a battleship. In his Binoculars, Purcell could see Hogsheads face flatten, and his ears bulge out. Hogshead sank to his knees and kissed the asphalt.

The fight was over, but Purcell felt a hole in his middle. He could taste the coppery flavor of some impending doom.
What was it?
What was that sound?
What was this screeching, crunching, scraping, noise?
And why was his tower leaning now as he watched the parking lot get closer and closer to his window?

Purcells day seemed to have gotten significantly shorter.


CONCLUSION TO FOLLOW

SEVEN DAYS OF SEX

A local Pastor gave a Sermon Sunday urging the married couples to have sex every day for the next week. (click here)
I see troubles innumerable, but I am definitely going to be at that Church next Sunday morning.I just can't decide if I should go alone to the Singles Class, or take a date to the Couples Class.
I have a feeling it will be "Standing Room Only".

THE CONTINUING CHRONICLES OF FIGHTIN' JOE

A NARRATIVE - PART 3
(click here) for the "continued from".

“Howdy do...yeah, I got somethin for the head!
Come on, come stand over here, it’s the best spot on Campus. Want a hit? Yeah, its Wahokkan and it is good. See, from here you can see down the side of the building both ways and if a Counselor or any Narcs show up, we got a runnin start to the Parking Lot. They'll never know what hit 'em. Lobo is out there with all her girls. See that “72 Civic, the Purple one with the smoke comin’ out the rear window? Theres more girlie-girls packed into there right now than a Future Teachers of America Convention. Sometimes they let you party with em, but you gotta wait for the invite. Won't take long, man.

When the wind is just right, comin out of the lot, you can get high just standin here, and seein’ as how jus’ ‘bout every other car is packed with Freaks all tuned in to KZEW its like were getting’ “Smoke on the Water”… in Quadraphonic too. Pretty cool

From here we can see everything. We got a better view of the Parking Lot and the Drivers Ed course over there than Mr. Purcell up there in the tower. They put that in last year, looks like something out of a Yogi Bear vs.The Park Ranger episode. Purcell thinks from up there with his Binoculars he’ll be able to see whats goin’ inside the vehicles while everybodys practicing driving.
Say again? Yeah, it looks like something a Boy Scout Troop made. He climbs three flights of ladders every day to get up there.
No, you’re right, they didn’t spend much money on it and it don’t look real safe.

Uh oh, there goes Fightin Joe. Looks like he's on a mission. He’s got Tiny Fontana with him too. They’re probably lookin’ for someone for Tiny to beat up while Fightin’ Joe holds ‘em. Tiny is little, but he’s a coward and that makes him dangerous, especially since he’s Joe’s only friend besides Mimi.
No, she’s not French... but don’t look now cause here comes Soafy in that Rabbit Jacket of hers.
88 degree's in the shade, Soafy's gotta wear that jacket. Her mommas REAL French, barely even speaks English, but Soafy's from Brooklyn. She likes to think she's French though.

Listen! Hear that squeaky sound?
No, it ain’t her snatch, but you crack me up… its that Patent Leather Ultra Miniskirt she wears. Man she’s really truckin’ ain’t she? Check it out, she’s gonna want a light for her cigarette…she’ll let it dangle until she decides to make Gentlemen out of us, and ask us if we ain't gonna light her cigarette.

Hey Soafy, whats happenin'?!
No, ma’am, I do not know what Joe and Tiny are up to besides no good. Lookin for who? What do they want with Buck? He did what? You don’t mean it! He and Mimi? But she’s his Half-Step Sister. Yeah, I guess that don't plug no holes. Aren’t I gonna what? Oh sure, here you go…man I need a cig too after hearin that shit.
Buck and Mimi. My my!
Ok, catch ya later!

Man! Buck Baumgardner is screwing his own half step sister, Mimi, which just happens to be the most notoriously baddassed’ dude in the world's girlfriend. Fightin’Joe must be wiggin’ out. Someone's gonna get hurt, I guarantee you me.
Buck better keep his ass well hid.

Whats that? Soafy? No, not me…everyone thinks I am but the fact of the matter is I’m the only one thats not.
Yeah, it gets pretty intense around here for sure. Whats your name? Good to know ya, Stanman…They call me Bulletholes. See ya ‘round”

to be continued

PAST PRESENT FUTURE

I find that one of the most difficult and important aspects of writing is finding and staying within the correct tense.
I figured this out all by myself.
I really had trouble with that my last post, and I'm not altogether sure I got it right.

VETERANS DAY

"It is easy to pick up the rifle...it is hard to put it down"

Chief Joseph of the Nez Perce

I think part of what Joseph means is that it can be easy for a brave and courageous person to fight for what they think is right, and that once that path is taken, it can be difficult to find the trail to peace.

I suspect our new President may gain firsthand knowledge of this.

I don't know if I am brave, or courageous. I have never been tested in that way. I suspect I may even be a coward disguised as a peaceful person.

So today I honor those who have been in battle, and done service to my country in order that I may live in peace.

It seems to be almost a forgotten day of remembrance, Vetereans Day.

No matter what your feelings may be towards War, let us remember those who have honorably paid tribute to our country, and give a salute to those who are presently in earnest service of their Patriotism.

I doubt that it is easy to be brave.

In the beginning of a change, the patriot is a scarce man, and brave, and hated and scorned. When his cause succeeds, the timid join him, for then it costs nothing to be a patriot.

Mark Twain

addendum- I started to give a special salute to Citizen H and Dave Mows Grass, my two buddies that have served. After posting this, I went to check out the Citizen, and found a most excellent list of 233 reasons to love Marines and the Corps, and two speeches Citizen holds dear.

Go check it out...it will enlighten, amuse, disturb and uplift you, I guarantee!

(click here)

Consider this my special salute to my bro's and anyone else deserving.

400th Post

To celebrate my 400th post I will direct my friends to my pal the Banquet Manager and a little something I did called "If the Banquet Manager Ain't Happy, Ain't Nobody Happy" as a Guest Post. (Click Here)
Please do leave him a comment over there so it don't look like nobody don't like me.

And for any of Banqman's friends, here are a few snippets froma few of my posts as a way of introduction. Thanks for stopping by!

Four Jobs jobs I've had, from "The Underacheiver"

1) Ran a Newspaper and Detective Service in the Fifth Grade.

2) Rockhound/Gemologist in the 7th Grade...during 1 Summer my friend Billy and I brought about a Ton of rocks home (1 mile) from the Creek, thinking they were Rare and Precious gemstones. When my dad took us to sell them at a Rock Shop, the man actiually bought some of them for a Dollar, I think out of pity for us.
My friend, Billy, sold his Harley Davidson Franchise last year. He is a Millionaire now, and runs one of those Pimp your Motorcycle shops. In High School, he was the kid with the crappy car, a 63 Dodge Dart with the Mag wheels and a hood scoop it.

3) Delivered Circulars/Handbills to a Dumpster when I was 17.

4) Chef for 24 years.This led to an extraordinary position doing Food Demonstrations at the Local Grocery store, wearing a Bowtie and Blackslacks, trying to sell Fritos, Air Fresheners, and Soy Milk ect..
Except for the Soymilk and all the ladies that lined up to talk to me, it was a real low point.
Almost like being the model for the Logo for a Pizza Box or something.
I quit when they tried to make me wear a Chefs hat.
I was their "Best Guy" and the lady cried like a baby when I quit.

One of the Seven things that make me weird, from "Cuckoo, Cuckoo"
Life= Time,
Time= Space,
Space=The Planets,
Human = Race
I am very good at random thought.
In the second grade we had an exercise where we were to draw lines between objects that matched like a Dog and a Doghouse, a hat and a pair of gloves and a hammer and a nail and a bat and a ball. I had no idea what they wanted me to do.
To the point of tears.
I realize now that there really were no wrong answers.
I can think outside anyone’s box.

Lastly from "Hells Kitchen"
"I was a Chef for almost 25 years. Its a great career...it demands a superior work ethic, an eye for detail, a love for food and people.
You may not be Artistic; I wasn't, but in time you will develop a Visual Style.
Most people do not realize that it is a very physical job. This is why you see more male Professional Chefs than female. You move a lot of 50 pound boxes and 15 gallon pots and a large skillet with product could weigh 20-25 pounds while you are "one arming" it from the stovetop to the prep table.
Try making a 90 Yolk batch of Hollandaise and you will find yourself vigorously whisking for 15 minutes. A 50 gallon batch of Honey-Mustard is made with a 4' Whip in 60 gallon trash can.
Trays and mirrors for Buffets can weigh a couple hundred pounds. A block of Ice for carving weighs 350 pounds.
Piping out 2000 Duchess Potato's from a pastry bag will build some forearms that look like Calf muscles.
The hours are long and the pay average.
There are Waitresses and Barmaids.
You can fall in love with it.
You are never really hungry and you are never really cold.
You have to move your ass, which is wrapped up pretty tight all the time.
Sanitation is at the front of everything you do.
I don't think there was a word one concerning proper food handling techniques on "Hells Kitchen"."

If that is not enough for you, Click here to get to "A Nicer guy" which details the ways I have changed since leaving Foodservice.

"OCTOBER"

I WROTE ABOUT THIS PIECE TWO YEARS AGO. (click here)

The first time I heard this piece, I was sitting in the stands, watching High School Marching Competition. From almost the first note, I cried like a baby. X-mrs. bulletholes looked over at me and said "What the hell is the matter with you?". The Band adavanced, and when they played it again that evening, I cried again.
After the show, I told the Director how his Musicians had moved me to tears, not once but twice.

"Which child is yours?" he asked.
'Oh, no, you don't understand" I said 'my child plays for a different Band."

It was one of my first posts. I seldom click on a You-Tube when I see it posted, and I doubt anyone really wants to hear this all the way through, but if you will listen to the last minute, and the way the Composer presents the last 2 notes of "October", you will know what November (click here) is all about.




Keep in mind that this is done by High School Students.

AUGUST AND EVERYTHING AFTER

I started to post Dylan's "Times They are a Changin'" today, along with ump-teen other bloggers because...well...it just seems like the lyrics would fit again, right now.
But I'll save it for another day.

Some of my favorite songs I have no idea what they are about even though the lyrics seem to be plain enough. There must be a message here somewhere, a message that I can't quite understand, that I am just not ready to grok in fullness.
But I do like the way it makes me feel.
Don't ask me how it makes me feel.


From the Counting Crows 1993 release
"August and Everything After", another Bulletholes pick of albums that play well all the way through. I apologize for the video content, but its the best audio I could find.




OMAHA
Start tearing the old man down
Run past the heather and down to the old road
Start turning the grain into the ground
Roll a new leaf over
In the middle of the night, there's an old man treading around in the gathered rain
Well mister, if you're going to walk on water
Could you drop a line my way?



Omaha
Somewhere in middle America
Get right to the heart of matters
It's the heart that matters more
I think you better turn your ticket in
And get your money back at the door



Start threading a needle
Brush past the shuttle that slides through the cold room
Start turning the wool across the wire
Roll a new life over
In the middle of the night, there's an old man threading his toes through a bucket of rain
Hey mister, you don't want to walk on water
you're only going to walk all over me


Start running the banner down
Drop past the color come up through the summer rain
Start turning the girl into the ground
Roll a new love over
In the middle of the day, there's a young man rolling around in the earth and rain
Hey Mister, if you're going to walk on water
You know you're only going to walk all over me.

Omaha
Somewhere in middle America
Get right to the heart of matters
It's the heart that matters more
I think you better turn your ticket in
And get your money back at the door

YOU CAN LEAD A HORSE TO WATER

BUT YOU CANT LOOK HIM IN THE MOUTH

I try tyo keep an open mind.
And that is why I had remained undecided as to who to vote for until I got into the booth last night.
I thought about Detroit, and Chicago and Memphis.
Then it became so obvious that I would be voting for Obama.
I realized that I had made up my mind when I was 11 years old in 1968.
I had tried hard over the months to find a reason not to vote for him.
The only reason that would come to mind was his youth, his inexperience, his lack of seasoning.
And then I would hear him speak.
He was smart, he was fluent, and any trace of inexperience drowned in the face of his ability to find the essential issue behind any problem, and to intelligently describe and define what could and could not be done about it.

Then, when the TV cameras showed the jubilant crowds of Americans, weeping, laughing, and ignited by his victory I realized just how significant his election was.
And I wept, I sobbed, I clapped my breast.
I went outside and spit on the ground.
It really chaps my White ass.
How, Good-God-Amighty, could this have taken so long?
A black President!
If we have not "gotten over" then maybe we have at least "gotten through".
We can only underestimate the positive impact Obama's victory will have on America and around the world.

I wrote about the Peaceful One and the Big-Eared Man (click) in August. I have to think they are smiling bigtime.

I am more proud to be an American than I have ever been!

SCARIEST HOUSE ON THE BLOCK

“Fighting Joe” was far and away the most baddass’d dude in these parts and a real life Urban Legend. I writ about 'im a while back.
He came from a long line of notoriously violent people.
My Mother –in-Law, Sparks, used to manage one of the toughest Redneck saloons that actually had a REAL Liquor License, one of the toughest places way out on the Jackboro Highway. She knew Fightin Joes dad “Cutter" and she may be the only person on earth that might could take him.

Sparks don't abide no bullshit in her Bar. Back in the 70's, they say she put Cutter out on his ass by his ear more than once. That was why he never come to her place no more. Sparks kept a sign over her bar said "You are Welcome but your Dope is not" and if she got wind that anyone in there was holdin' it was 'Who hit John?" and out the door with you.

Cutter would take offence to anyone unwitting enough to cast a glance in his direction. But he was right clever about it. Sparks said his usual method of operation has to down a couple dozen Boilermakers which just seemed to bring out all the hate in him, then he would look for someone to unload on. He would act all friendly to them, even buy a few rounds and then out in the Parking lot he would give ‘em the knife.
He never killed anyone that could be proved but he left a long trail of men with only one ear, or minus the tip of their nose and a finger or two and there are enumerable fellows walkin’ round having a jagged tear down one cheek and stitches in their side like that guy Dalton from Road House.
All souvenirs of the night they made a big mistake, thinkin' they had befriended “Cutter” Womack.


His son, “Fightin’ Joe” was a bit different. He never pretended to like nobody.
Nobody ‘cept his girl, Mimi Baumgardner that lived down the street from me. She really wasn't a Baumgardner at all. neither were her two half sisters.
I shall try to explain now the Scariest house on the block.

The Baumgardeners were the most unusual family you’d ever want to meet. They were like the Brady Bunch on a mean batch of Crank.
There were three brothers, all sired by the same father, Bum.
But all three had come from different mothers.
There was Butch, Boomer and Buck. Rumor was that Butch's Mother had been killed by Boomers Mom, then when Boomers Mom got the chair, Bum re-married and Buck was born, but his momma ran off with...some Carnival called ...
Dr. Darks Traveling Pandemonium Circus or somethin'.
Buck was the most normal of the brothers. The other two were like Tweedle-Dee and Tweedle Dum and they were in a constant struggle against each other and for each other, all at the same time. They seemed to be living some kind of ancient geneaological war begun by two women, all the while having more in common with each other than their differences.


There were three sisters that all came from the same Momma, but they each had different Daddys. Their Mommas name was Eve, and she really got around I guess. I never did get comfortable with the way she would eyeball me from time to time.
There was “Ruthless” the eldest of the three, and “Lobo”, the one in the middle. Me and Lobo got to be pretty good friends. She drove a “72 Honda Civic, smallest car there could ever be and sometimes I would get to be the 7th person in the car while a Grass Mask was passed front to back in the Parking lot before School.
I never did know what her real name was, but one night I did find out why they called her Lobo.
Mimi was the youngest, and she was the apple of Fightin' Joe's eye. Mimi was 16 going on 21. She was the best looking of the three. When she got all dressed up she was probably the best looking girl in the school, but instead of giving her confidence, she had become a Mouse, a kind of Cinderella Girl, quiet,shy and easily manipulated by Fightin Joe.
So when Bum and Eve got married, they combined to produce a household of six half brothers and sisters, onl;y they were more like thirds.
Its like nothin' I've ever heard of before.

The most crazy thing about all this is that any of these 6 siblings could have legally married each other. At least in the traditional ‘Man-Woman” sense.
It was like that song “I’m my own Granpa” by Ray Stevens.

There were a lot of jokes about what went on at that house, you just didn’t want to tell ‘em when Fightin Joe was around.
You had to know about the Baumgardners before I could tell you about the day that Fightin' Joe took Perk and Hogshead apart during Drivers Ed.

to be continued

BEST FIRST DATE MOVIE EVER

ROCKY HORROR PICTURE SHOW

Sweet Transvestite - Tim Curry


Can you believe that shit was on TV?
I made my Nice Christian neighborlady watch it…at least until Tim Curry comes down the elevator,as seen above.
Blew her mind.
She went running out my front door, ran into a tree and knocked herself out.
Had to call 9-11!
Ambulance arrived and Time-Warped her to the Hospital.


Pronounced DOA, 8;26 P.M.
I signed for the body and tonight...I'm going to try to rebuild her.
like I said, she makes the BEST tea
Happy Halloween Everybody!

GREAT MOMENTS IN BASEBALL-CROTCHETY OLD MEN

and this was the greatest ever!

Watching the World Series last night I could not help but think of the day that the 46 year old Nolan Ryan showed 24 year old Robin Ventura what its all about.

Ventura was hit by a pitch and charged the old man on the mound, as batters are wont to do. Pitchers are not usually known for their scrappiness in these situations, but Ryan is as scrappy as they come.

As soon as Nolan saw that Ventura was heading his way, Ryan did not hesitate. Off came the glove. Striding briskly, he met Ventura at the halfway between the plate and the mound and in a split second put the lad into a headlock and started giving him the nookie-nuks.

Note that the Catcher, Rodriguiz, was in no way there to aid his teammate, but was trying his best to tear the 24 year old away before the great Nolan Ryan killed him.

Too bad Ryan didn't play Hockey!

CROTCHETY OLD MAN

Neighbor lady is going soft on me.
Keeps callin’ me “Sweetie” and asks if I want a cigarette while she chain smokes.
I tell her AGAIN that I quit last year. My mistake is that on occasion I might smoke one

Wants to wait on me hand and foot. I can’t stand it, but she’s a "giver" and I try to be nice.
We might be watching the Cowboys on TV.
"Do you want some more tea?" she'll ask.
'Sure, but keep your seat, I'll get it, I know where the refrigerator is" and I get up go into the kitchen, open the cooler door and start to pour my tea. And then, there she is, right under my feet asking:
"Is it sweet enough for you?"
"You make the best tea I ever had " I say, and she does!

Yesterday she tells me about the Sunday School class she formed up for the 19-29 year olds.
She had been wanting to do this for them for a number of years and she finally got the chance.
'We had our first meeting yesterday." She is beaming.
“Are you 19-29 “says I”
She and I are both quite obviously past 50.
“No, but they need a leader” says she.
"They need a leader? What for?" I ask, somewhat incredulously.
"Well , just to help guide them " she says
“Well, these must be some lame ass 19-29 year olds.” Says I.
It seems to be a sad testament towards the competence of the younger generation.

So then she proceeds to tell me that she fell asleep during their first class yesterday.
I just laughed and laughed. I couldn't help it. The way she said it was just hilarious.
And then, when I finally stopped laughing, wiping the laugh tears that were streaming down my cheeks, I looked at her I could tell I had hurt her feelings.
"Its not funny” she says
“Then" says I, laughing even harder "why did you tell me?”

And she didn’t know what to say.

Jeezus.

She is such a nice lady, and I like her I really do, but I am so afraid that I will hurt her feelings really bad before she really gets to know me, so bad that she never wants to talk to me again.

Are all men as big a prick as this? If I can be so hurtful when I am in a good mood, can you imagine what its like when I'm crotchety?
I get like a mean ol grumpy-bear, believe you me.

YOU WANT ME TO WHAT?

Yet another argument for Minxies clean knickers. You never know when you might go missing.



"You think you're having a bad day? That Bitch Lassie called in sick on my Birthday...and now...get a whiff o' this"