Just Imagine...

... last night, I grilled some boneless pork ribs out on the deck that were so good that if you placed one on the top of your head, your tongue would beat your brains out trying to get to it...

.. and the baked beans weren't too bad either...

.. From a Dream..

.. and now for something completely different... a noir tale of loss.... oh, and sex...

Thought of the Day...

"I'm an educated man, but I'm afraid I can't speak intelligently about the travel habits of William Santiago. What I do know is that he was set to leave the base at 0600. Now are these really the questions I was called here to answer? Phone calls and footlockers?"

... indeed...

Leopard skin...

... I once bought a tattered old leopard skin at an antique shop in Arbroath... it was dried hard like parchment... clean, but a bit worse for wear... the skin where the lower jaw had been was pierced on both sides, and a small piece of handmade cord connected both jaws... I asked the owner of the shop for the purpose, and he dropped the bomb... that pelt had been used as a cape - of sorts - by some unknown African tribesman... using the handmade cord, the wearer could place the top of the leopard's head on top of his head, and the cord would could be slipped beneath his chin... thus hold the ensemble in place... with the body, legs, and tail hanging down behind the warrior.. protecting his back from the sun, camouflaging him, and showing everyone who passed that he was a badass leopard killer...

... I had just de-mobbed from the Corps, and standing in that cold shop holding that skin, I knew that I had to have it... 50 pounds sterling was the price, and I paid it... later that night, with much ceremony, I hung it on my manroom wall... alongside my military photos, mementos, and keepsakes that 5 years in the Corps had given me... it stayed on that wall for 8 years... when we were packing up to move to the United States, I gifted it to my friend John.. he was a local Scottish Nationalist politician and had been born in Africa, so I knew he would appreciate it... and besides, I didn't think US Customs would appreciate a 100 year old leopard pelt as much as I did... so, I abandoned it...

... sitting here now, I can tell you truly that I miss having that cape around... once upon a time, I too was a badass leopard killer... I knew the feeling of wearing a skin uniform that celebrated my victories with ribbons, medals, and badges... common threads were shared with the long-dead spearman who had felled that leopard...

.. today, a new breed of warriors are in need of their capes... Kevlar blankets, to be precise... these men and women keep the leopards away, friends.. they are our protectors.... go now, and donate if you can....

Breakfast...

.. yesterday, the Wife and I drove down to Cleveland and had lunch at The Roadhouse.... I am sure you know the kind of place I'm talking about.... peanut husks on the floor... a nice bar... awesome music... and great, heaping helpings of red meat served up with every order.. after a fine meal and a few beers, we made our way to a book store and spent a few lazy Friday afternoon hours browsing books... I bought two, and she bought one...

... the Sun was shining warmly as we zipped along the back roads.. the caddy was in fine form.... Spring will be here before we know it, and I can't wait...

... once back home, I received a call from a dear friend who is currently going through a custody clusterfuck regarding his daughter.. he sounded rough.. so, I invited him over... we shot pool for a while... talked, and had a few drinks... a quiet Friday night...

... now, it is morning... and another beautiful clear day is here... a country-fried breakfast is waiting for me in town...

Damn lies....

... recently, I was held down and ear-tagged as the White Trash I am...

... behold, children.. your hero, sandwiched between two scandalous babes... shocking... shocking, I tell you...

... even though Paris Hilton likes to take the camcorder into the boudoir, I'd still have to hesitantly say "no"... while I might like watching her mpegs on the internet, I have no desire whatsoever to actually participate in such a grindfest...

... however... this being the internet, I feel that I must turn the USS SWG broadside, and fire a salvo back Sadie's direction.. after all, I heard it said somewhere that if you don't strike back, bullies will come and kick sand in your face... or something...

... anyway.. to the chase... here is a photo I dug up of Sadie and her sister, Sarah... the mule in the middle is me.... see?... yeah, unfortunately, Sister Sarah only got 1 mule that night... but still, aren't they just the cutest bunnies you ever did see?....

... heh..

It continues...

... snipers, dog snatchers, exotic shoes.. kidnapping, murder, and a shower scene.. the plot thickens, children...

Poolnight Wisdom..

... or maybe just a bad attitude... either way, I feel like sharing...

... during a lull in the fracas this past Wednesday, one of the gladiators related a recent conversation he had enjoyed with a local farmer...

.. to set the stage, the man in question had just deposited two 50lb bags of feed into the back of the farmer's truck... and in doing so, he noticed that the two back tires were worn bald... casually turning to the old-time farmer, he remarked...

... "looks like you need some new tires, Sir"...

.. to which, said farmer eased himself back out of the cab, and rested his elbows on the edge of the truck bed.. peering across the expanse, he replied in a slow, steady speech...

... "well, sonny, that may be.. but what I DON'T need is some sumbitch telling me what I DO need"...

... spitting a thick stream of tobacco juice towards his feet, he slid himself back into the truck, and drove away....

Quotable Bitterman...

... get over to the Smoking Toaster and shout out at da Bitterman... go on, tell him like it is... he's ASKING for it... after all, you will not get this opportunity very often.. normally he would release the Weasel Death Squad at the first hint of discourse..

Sexy?.. no, Confident..

... I've read a few great blogs today who have responded to Christina's question... "What do guys do to make themselves feel confident and sexy?"... well, to be quite honest, I really can't answer that question... while I was getting my haircut this afternoon, I pondered the answer.. the same result kept appearing in my mind every time..

... first off, we actually have two questions here... one is "what do we do to feel confident"... and the other is "what do we do to feel sexy".... I'll tackle the latter first... let me just begin by saying that I believe there is a misunderstanding in how Men and Women perceive themselves.... how we feel about ourselves and our appearance... in my experience, during my entire 32 years on this planet, I can honestly say that I have NEVER used the phrase "I feel sexy"... I just don't think like that... I have felt horny... I have felt sexed-up... I have felt sexually spent... sexually frustrated... sexually victorious... and sexually inept.. but I have never looked in the mirror and thought... "Damn, Eric, you are one sexy beast"... that's just not who I am.... I am also notoriously bad at getting my radar to pick up women hitting on me for that same reason.. I just am not wired like that... I am polite, courteous, and friendly... (except at blogmeets).. the "sexy beast" deal does not figure into the mental image I hold of myself.. I wear cowboy boots, jeans, and tee-shirts almost every day... usually a fleece jacket too.. I am over 6 feet.. around 200 pounds... with very, very short red hair, and freckles... these characteristics do not a "Sex Beast" make... I am just Eric... your average, everyday Straight White Guy.. and I am totally cool with that... only once have I bemoaned it, and it is documented here...

.. as for the confidence, that is a different kettle of fish... in most circumstances, I know that I can take care of myself... in a bar fight... in a ship lost at sea... speaking before a crowd... or when a Server crashes.. I can handle it.... you know, I believe that I am the person I am today because of three overriding influences.. my Mother, my Father, and the United States Marine Corps... take away any of those factors, and I would not be who & where I am today....

.. but still, the question remains.. what do I do to make myself feel confident?... well, I read one of my favorite books, or I watch a favorite movie... I go to the range and pop a few targets at 500 meters... I go swimming... I cook a meal for the family... call up a friend on the phone and talk about absolutely nothing... sit back and remember that I am loved... I go back to the edge of my property, and build a fire... then sit by it, and look down at my house and the life I have built.... these things are what make me feel confident... not the clothes I am wearing, or the style of my hair.. in short, I guess I don't really DO anything... I just reconnect with parts of my life... looking at my life makes me feel confident...

"Time"

... my Tom Waits addiction is getting worse with each passing day.. I can't really put my finger on it... I mean, some of his stuff is just plain whacked... but others really get right down into your soul... I have been playing "Time" all morning while drinking coffee...

... I've taken to keeping his CDs in my car so that I can only listen to them while I drive... yeah, a feeble attempt to wean myself off, but the result is actually that I want to go riding around... heh... I think I am going to stroll into town and have lunch somewhere... I have an appointment for a crewcut at 1:30... in the mean time, chew on this one for a while... damned if I can figure it out... any pointers would be greatly appreciated.....

The smart money's on Harlow
And the moon is in the street
The shadow boys are breaking all the laws
And you're east of East Saint Louis
And the wind is making speeches
And the rain sounds like a round of applause

Napoleon is weeping
In the carnival saloon
His invisible fiance's in the mirror
And the band is going home
It's raining hammers, it's raining nails
It's true there's nothing left for him down here

CHORUS:

And it's time, time, time
And it's time, time, time
And it's time, time, time, that you love
And it's time, time, time

And they all pretend they're orphans
And their memory's like a train
You can see it getting smaller as it pulls away
And the things you can't remember
Tell the things you can't forget
That history puts a saint in every dream

Well she said she'd stick around
Until the bandages came off
But these mama's boys just don't know when to quit
And Matilda asks the sailors
Are those dreams or are those prayers?
So close your eys, son and this won't hurt a bit

CHORUS...

Well things are pretty lousy
For a calendar girl
The boys just dive right off the cars and into the street
And when they're on a roll
She pulls a razor from her boot
And a thousand pigeons fall around her feet

So put a candle in the window
And a kiss upon his lips
As the dish outside the window fills with rain
Just like a stranger
With the weeds in your heart
And pay the fiddler off 'till I come back again

CHORUS x2

Mood Music...

... yesterday morning, I wrote a shitty essay that was exactly 600 words long... I had the intention of posting it today as my Mars/Venus missive... it was a rambling rant on how the rise of feminism, early democracies, and Victorian stiff-upper-lippers had conspired to steal the feminine from the female.. heh.. it truly took us down a twisted path...

.. in it, I celebrated the fact that some women are now bucking the system... they have realized that being "equal" does not mean they are "the same".. bring on the sexy undies, ladies... but, I digress...

... this morning, while searching for blogfodder, I found this article... I immediately ran through and asked The Wife what song she thought it would play...

.. you want to know why Men are from Mars, and Women are from Venus?... her response was telling... a shining testament... after a few seconds of thought, she looked up from her oatmeal, and replied... "maybe 'Ode to Joy'?... why, what were YOU thinking?"...

.. I had to admit it, children... I was imagining more of a "wikka wikka waaa"...

.. Mars, indeed... and Venus in a nutshell..

.. Heh..

... the "Gentlemen" got their asses handed to them tonight... they blamed it on the "bass licks of the Flea sending bad mojo to their games", but rest assured.. it was pure pooltable poetry...

... I kicked ass... and that is that....

.. word, children...

... g'night... I am hammered, yet still Champion.... thus endeth my Wednesday..

The smell of cedar..

... this Wednesday finds me tired.. I've spent most of the day burning fallen limbs behind my house... a killer thunderstorm passed through on Monday, and some of the older trees found themselves unceremoniously pruned by Mother Nature.. so, I've been hacking, heaping, and burning the dismembered bits...

... I whipped up a quick meal of homemade chili-cheese-macaroni... and I'm about to dig in.... it's sitting on the stove cooling as I write this... the "Gentlemen" will be here in an hour or so... so I have just enough time to wolf down some chow, get a stiff drink in me, and steel myself for the evening's festivities...

... feel free to drop by if you are in the neighborhood... I can't guarantee any food will be left, but there will be plenty of drinks.... after all, The Eagle Glen Social Club is an equal opportunity asskicker...

Sinderella....

Cinderella wants to go to the ball, but her wicked stepmother won't let her. As Cinderella sits crying in the garden, her fairy godmother appears, and promised to provide Cinderella with everything she needs to go to the ball, but only on two conditions.

Cinderella replied, "I can't remember, exactly, ...Peter, Peter, something or other..."

.. hat tip to Loyal Reader Charlie..

Newsflash...

... it has taken sceintists years of study... backbreaking hours in front of test tubes and petri dishes...

"Italian researchers found that women who ate chocolate on a daily basis had higher libidos than those who didn't. They also found that chocolate-fed women had better sexual arousal and more sexual satisfaction. Their scientific conclusion: The craving of choice for many women has some real benefits for our sex lives."

... "chocolate-fed women"... indeed... off to the stores, boys....

From the Email...

... a few wonderful quotes about my beloved Corps...

A Marine as seen by...

Himself:
A handsome, buff, highly trained professional killer and female idol who carries a finely honed K-Bar, wears a crisp 8-point cammie cover and is always on time due to the absolute reliability of his Seiko digital watch.

His Wife:
A stinking, gross, foul mouthed lovable bum who arrives back at home every few months with a seabag full of dirty utilities, a huge Seiko watch, an oversized knife, a filthy hat and hornier then hell.

Headquarters Marine Corps:
A drunken, brawling, HMMWV-stealing, woman-corrupting "cumshaw artist" who wears a Seiko watch, an unauthorized K-Bar and a squared-away cover.

His Commanding Officer:
A fine specimen of a drunken, brawling, HMMWV-stealing, woman-corrupting bullshitter with an incredibly accurate Seiko watch, a finely honed razor sharp K-Bar and a salty cammie cover.

What others have said:

Congress:
Marines are overpaid, overrated tax burdens who are indispensable since they volunteer to go anywhere at any time and kill whoever they're told to kill, as long as they can drink, brawl, steal HMMWVs, corrupt women and sing dirty songs while wearing cammies, oversized knives, Seiko watches and really screwed-up 8-point covers that don't look like the Army's.

Ronald Reagan, former President of the United States:
"Some people live an entire lifetime and wonder if they've ever made a difference in the world. Marines don't have that problem."

General Douglas MacArthur, US Army:
". . . these Marines have the swagger, confidence and hardness that must have been in Stonewall Jackson's Army of the Shenandoah. They remind me of the Coldstream Guards at Dunkirk."

Admiral Chester Nimitz, US Navy, on the Marine Corps' battle for Iwo Jima:
"Uncommon valor was a common virtue"

General Douglas MacArthur, US Army:
"I have just returned from visiting the Marines at the front. There is not a finer fighting organization in the world!"

LtCol T R Fehrenbach, USA, in "This Kind of War":
"The man who will go where his colors go without asking, who will fight a phantom foe in a jungle or a mountain range, and who will suffer and die in the midst of incredible hardship, without complaint, is still what he has always been, from Imperial Rome to sceptered Britain to democratic America. He is the stuff of which legends are made. His pride is his colors and his regiment, his training hard and thorough and coldly realistic, to fit him for what he must face, and his obedience is to his orders. As a legionnaire, he held the gates of civilization for the classical world ... today he is called United States Marine."

An Anonymous Canadian Citizen:
"Marines are about the most peculiar breed of human beings I have ever witnessed. They treat their service as if it was some kind of cult, plastering their emblem on almost everything they own, making themselves up to look like insane fanatics with haircuts so short as to be ungentlemanly, worshipping their Commandant as if he was a god, and making weird animal noises like a band of savages. They'll fight like rabid dogs at the drop of a hat just for the sake of a little action and are the cockiest SOBs I've ever known. Most have the foulest mouths and drink well beyond man's normal limits, but their high spirits and sense of brotherhood set them apart and, generally speaking, of the United States Marines with whom I've come in contact, are the most professional warriors and the finest men I've had the pleasure to meet. "

General John J "Black Jack" Pershing, US Army:
"The deadliest weapon in the world is a Marine and his rifle! "

General Mark Clark, US Army:
"The more Marines I have around the better I like it! "

General Johnson, US Army:
"I can never again see a United States Marine without experiencing a feeling of reverence. "

Richard Harding Davis, war correspondent (1885):
"The Marines have landed, and the situation is well in hand."

A Marine Drill Instructor at Parris Island:
"Did you come here just to spoil my beloved Corps, maggot?"

A boot camp weapons coach:
"To a Marine, happiness is a belt-fed weapon."

LtCol Oliver North, USMC (ret):
"The only people I like beside my wife and kids are Marines."

MajGen J N Mattis, CG, 1st MarDiv - Iraq, March 2003:
"You are part of the world's most feared and trusted fighting force. Engage your brain before you engage your weapon. Share your courage with each other as we enter the uncertain terrain north of our Line of Departure. Keep faith in your comrades on your left and right and Marine Air overhead. Fight with a happy heart and a strong spirit. For the mission's sake, our country's sake and the sake of the men who carried the Division's colors in past battles -- who fought for life and never lost their nerve -- carry out your mission and keep your honor clean. Demonstrate to the world there is 'No Better Friend, No Worse Enemy' than a United States Marine."

Eleanor Roosevelt - 1945:
"The Marines I have seen around the world have the cleanest bodies, the filthiest minds, the highest morale, and the lowest morals of any group I have ever seen. Thank God for the United States Marine Corps."

An Anonymous US Marine:
"I recently attended a Kansas City Chiefs football game at Arrowhead Stadium. It was their annual Veteran's Day tribute so members of all the services were asked to participate in the festivities.

A color guard for the National Anthem was provided by the Buffalo Soldiers Association. They looked very sharp in their 1800s-era US Army Cavalry uniforms. Following that, the Navy parachute team put on an impressive display that brought cheers from the 78,000 football fans in attendance. Shortly thereafter, we were treated to the truly awesome sight of an Air Force B-2 Spirit stealth bomber flyover as well as a few other aircraft. All of these sights -- but especially the B-2 -- were truly appreciated by the crowd who let it be known by their cheers.

I expected that was all we would see of the US Military that day. I thought we would see a high school or college marching band during half-time. Few watch those shows anyway because they have to go to the head or grab another beer during the intermission.

Shortly before half-time, however, I looked down on the sidelines near the end zone and saw the Marine Corps' Silent Drill Team forming up. As the half-time show started, the players left the field and the announcer came on the public address system to advise us of the Drill Team's performance. Many of us Marines have seen these performances in the past and they're always awe-inspiring. I didn't expect that the large civilian crowd of football fans would be as appreciative of the Drill Team as they had been of the high-tech B-2 or the daring of the Navy parachute team. However, I was on the edge of my seat. As the Drill Team marched onto the field, the crowd grew noticeably quieter. Soon, the team was fully into their demonstration. The stadium was absolutely silent.

From high in the stands' upper reaches where my seats were, I was able to hear the "snap" and "pop" of hands striking rifles. Both big screen "Jumbotron" scoreboards displayed close ups of the Marines as they went through their routine. As they completed their demonstration and lined up for the inspection, the crowd began cheering as the Marines twirled their rifles in impossible fashion. Then came the inspection. Again, the crowd fell silent and watched intently as rifles were thrown, caught, twirled, inspected and thrown some more. Each well-practiced feat brought a "wow" or "did you see that?" from those sitting around me.

I sat there in silent pride as I watched my brother Marines exit the field. A young girl behind me asked her mother a question about how the Marines learn to do the things they just did. The mother replied, "They practice long and hard and they're Marines; they're the best."

Semper Fidelis!!!

.. hat tip to da Bitterman...

More on fingerpicking...

... one of the objects pictured below is now officially classified as an assault weapon at the Straight White House...

... here is a better view...

... Merle Travis, indeed...

Bravery...

... Michele of Letters from New York City has asked a question... she seems interested in hearing tales of a few select men's first loves... I don't blame her one bit... stories of love intrigue us.. they inspire us... hardwired into your minds, we seek out these stories... tales of love lost... love found... eternal love.. and love left unreturned... it doesn't matter what the flavor is, we are hooked on it... we need those stories..

.. having the capacity to bare your soul to another human being and truly love - for whatever period of time - is the most beautiful thing to behold..

... last night I watched "Shadowlands", and it crushed me.. it threw my heart to the ground, and twisted it underfoot like a cigarette butt.... the story of a C.S. Lewis falling in love with a beautiful American poet who slowly died of cancer... I felt it...it resonated in me... I watched my Father die the same way... slowly... drop by drop until he was no more... I simply cannot imagine what it would feel like to lose a spouse that way... at the end of that movie, I wept... Love, people... no matter what anyone tells you, it will end in pain...

... the pain may be caused by your lover jilting you... finding out she's banging the milkman every Tuesday... or, it might be from the fact that you simply love her more than she loves you... but even under the most perfect circumstances, love will bring you pain... you may be married 75 years to the most wonderful woman on the planet... who loves you more than the air she breathes... but one day... she is going to die... through no fault of her own.. she'll get called away.. leaving you alone and still in love... it is inescapable... to love someone is to call down heaven's fury... it will always end in pain... sure, it might be bliss for an hour... a day... a year... or 50... but it will end in the same way... pain...

... here is the key... when you love someone, you bond with them in a way that is deeper than any canyon.. you surrender your self to them... many of you know what I am talking about... if you don't, then you have never truly loved... the thing is, to feel that bliss, comfort, and joy of loving, you must also accept that eventually you will suffer the greatest pain of your life.. either when she leaves... or dies... or when you are on YOUR deathbed preparing to leave HER.. not wanting to let her go.. fighting to stay alive for one more breath, just to see her face... one more time...

... loving someone is an act of unparalleled bravery... and that is a fact, children...

... as for my "first love" story?... I am sorry, Michele... but that is a post for another day.. I will tell you this, though... I know that I have loved... and that I do love.... and that I will continue to love... even though I know I will get hurt...

The Sting..

... absolutely nothing on the planet says "WAKE THE HELL UP" like getting stung on the nutsack by a wasp first thing in the morning...

... well, not exactly on the nutsack... but close enough... right inner thigh - pretty high up... it's almost enough to make a man second-guess going commando...

... still, there is always a bright side... I mean, it could have been a black mamba like the one I saw on the Discovery Channel.. I mean, I wouldn't be writing this now if it had been a mamba... although, begging the question of how a mamba would get into my bedroom would be even more mysterious than wondering how that damn wasp got in there...

... now that I think of it, that wasp COULD have waited till I pulled my pants all the way up.. thus injecting the painful venom directly into the boys... so, I suppose I should just take this little morning drama in stride.. I mean, I'm not dead, and the jewels are secure... today is a good day...

... hark, children... listen closely.... no matter how bad things are, they can ALWAYS get worse...

UPDATE:.. sitting here now, I have had a chance to reflect a bit.. I would like to just take a moment to say how monumentally glad I am that it was not a gila monster.. they are venomous, and once they bite... well, they hold on like a vise.. that would have truly, truly sucked....

Lessons...

... I've spent most of today pouring over two books on Merle Travis' solo style... Damn, that man could play a guitar..

... for those of you who don't know, he was a Kentucky farmboy who was raised in the shadows of the old coal mines.. and turned himself into a true musician... sound like anyone you know?... in a nutshell, folks.. Doc Watson, Merle Travis, and Chet Atkins were the Kings of guitar back in the day...

.. sweet Jeebus... I've played guitar so much that it actually hurts to type this... and that is with D'Addario extra-light strings...

... Rob, if you can play like Merle Travis, get your ass up here... I need some serious help... 50 bucks an hour, free room and board, and the bar tab is on me... I've got nothing but time, and I AM going to learn how to play this... after all, my anniversary is coming up next month...

Jones & McCall..

... before my Sainted Mother's surgery a few weeks ago, I had invited her over for dinner... I made my World famous spaghetti and we had a grand old time... she had been stressed of late, and was needing to let off some steam before going under the knife... understandable, I suppose.. but add to that the fact that I was in an entertaining mood, and all Hell broke loose in the dining room... after the meal, our conversation started.. it was lively and varied... everyone was having a whale of a time... and then it suddenly hit the skids...

... part of the problem is that I was taught to make my spaghetti by a Jesuit priest.. and one of his cardinal rules was to treat the sauce like you would a companion... if you have a glass of wine while cooking, give a glass to the sauce... etc.. the result is that you have a sauce with an incredibly deep flavor.. full of texture.. the garlic, oregano, basil, onion, clove, and tomato flavors just deepen the longer it cooks... and of course, YOU end up sauced yourself by the time the meal is served..

... needless to say, I was feeling pretty nice by the time we started feasting... anyway, at some point during the after-meal conversation, someone mentioned Bright's Disease... now, I have no idea what Bright's Disease is, but the mention of the phrase immediately made me break into an old George Jones song... you know the one I am talking about?.. heh... it is a classic... I've just spent the past hour googling the lyrics and couldn't find it... so, here it comes from memory...

I've had a splittin' headache from my eyebrows to my backbone
arthritis, appendicitis, Bright's disease and gall stones
bleeding ulcers, ingrown toenails, swollen adenoids
the Asian flu a time or two, and inflamed vocal chords
I've had my appendix ruptured by an angry kangaroo... ooo oooo..
but nothing ever hurt me half as bad as losin' you

accidentally nailed my index finger to the wall
cut off half my toes and soaked my foot in alcohol...

.. and then, I ran out of gas... I had forgotten the rest of the lyrics... man, it sure is strange how a mind works.. I hadn't heard that song in years, and those words just burst out...

.. don't even get me started on Mr. McCall... Classified... Black Bear Road... Crispy Critters... Wolf Creek Pass... I can recite them all... the problem is, I just don't know if that is a good thing, or not...

Quote of the Day...

... She said: "Everyone can live here as they please."

.. yes, children.. even homosexual penguins..

Production...

.. on the way up to Knoxville today to have lunch, the Wife asked me what I was going to be doing with my time off... smelling a trap, I initially balked.. then proceeded cautiously..

.. I replied that I would really like to take some lessons to to learn the alternating thumb fingerpicking style of guitar playing.. catch up on my reading (I bought a new collection of Faulkner's short stories today)... and do some hunting...

... personally, I didn't think it would fly, but I just had to give it a try... after all, you never know until you give it a spin...

... she looked over at me.. doe-eyed... smiled meekly... and said... "that is good.. I was worried... I just want you to do something productive with your time off... and I'd love to hear you fingerpick like that"...

.. I forgot to tell her that Tommy Santelli charges a hundred bucks an hour for lessons... I'd better learn fast...

Noir Update...

... the Blog Noir continues at pace, people... Chapter Three is up, and it rocketh... Twisty, that was great work...

Confess, Dammit...

.... how many people who read this site are actually bloggers?... how many of you are just surfers?... and how many of you are people who are "eventual" bloggers?... you know, the kind of people who read this, and think... "I can do that"... and later start their own blogs?.. then again, how many of you are people who never plan on having a blog of your own, and actually drop by every day to check this crazy shit out?....

.. just curious... that's all.... have you ever imagined the question?.... do we really have an audience, or are we just talking to ourselves?.... and each other?....

One more Time..

... well, it looks like Goldie the Australian Drama Queen may have given up... if it is true, it is a crying shame...

... but as you know, gentle rubberneckers, we have a tradition here at Straight White Guy.. when a bright, young, sparkling blog goes belly up (especially if it is run by a female)... there is nothing left to do but throw a little Dean Martin at it to see if it wakes up... sometimes it works... and sometimes it does not... either way, I gotta give it a try...

.. c'mon Goldie.. get back in the game...

A Meme...

... apparently, according to The Redneck, "I've got time"... true, brother... true....

What's your favorite kind of cookie?

.. I don't normally eat sweets... I am not a cookie kinda guy... but, for the sake of this meme, I will say that I like those little round, white ones... with the chewy raspberry stuff in between them... if I was going to eat a cookie, I would set off in search of them...

Who is America's most overrated actor?

.. Tom Cruise.. enough said..

Name a guilty pleasure.

.. Gin and Tonics for lunch.. you ever do that?.. it's niiiiice... I highly recommend it...

"Scrubs" or "Everybody Loves Raymond"?

... I don't have much experience with those two shows... but, Raymond's wife is a knockout... so, if I had to choose, I'd choose "Everybody Loves Raymond's Wife Raymond"...

Name two things you can't live without.

... Scotch and tobacco.. or oxygen and water... damn, I am torn...

You pet's first name + your mother's maiden name = your porn star name.

.. all of my pets met brutal ends... either at the abbatoir, the hands of my Father, or on the road beside my house.. thus, I have blocked their names and visages from my childhood memory.. sorry.. I cannot answer this question.. were I to conjure up those memories of little (insert puppy name here) getting squished flat by Uncle Bob's farm truck, I'd probably go postal.. so I shall refrain...

What song are you listenin' to right now?

.. "Tush" by ZZ Top...

Name your celebrity crush.

.. Jennifer Connelly, Jennifer Connelly, Jennifer Connelly... or Pheobe Cates... actually, both...

Favorite punchline from a joke.

... "yeah, ever since my monkey swallowed that cueball, he measures everything first"....

Who do you want to pass this meme off to?

... just to peek inside his alcohol addled mind, I am going to send this to The Bitterman... besides, the bastard needs a pick-me-up....

Here I is..

... UPDATE:... because Velociman is pissed, do NOT read this post if you have not yet seen Mystic Pizza River.. THIS POST CONTAINS SPOILERS...

... chill out, people... I ain't dead... my Comcast internet connection went down hard yesterday afternoon... what a crock... AND the bastard was still on its knees this morning... I feel so betrayed... like catching an old friend getting a blowjob from my 18 year old daughter in the parking lot of the Taco Bell... except, of course, that I don't have an 18 year old daughter.. but, you catch my drift... you have all heard it said before, but I can now vouch for the term's validity... having no internet well and truly sucks...

... can you tell that I watched "Mystic River" last night?...

... what a movie... Eastwood must have had an epiphany... what would the American Public LOVE to see?.... that's right, children... Tim Robbins getting gut-stuck, double-tapped, and tossed in a river... heh... oh yeah, you got it, Clint.. perfect casting, Brother...

... man, I sure wish that Bacon had capped Penn's ass at the end of the movie... that would have been the icing on the cake... Sean Penn and Tim Robbins... two steaming turds in the slums of Boston...

... totally unrelated, but worthy of running up the proverbial flagpole, I nominate Ed Begley Jr. for a Velocifisty.. it has been a while since we've had one.. and Eddie is just begging for it... I saw that bastard on BBC America yesterday showing off his white picket fence... it was made from recycled milk jugs... what a wiener..

Day Four..

... I drove into town yesterday and had lunch at a nice Mexican restaurant...a very pleasant affair.... civilized, even... afterwards, I wandered around a few shops... no where to be, people... it's not that bad of a feeling...

... today was also my first time out in public packing my new weapon.. the size of the frame is considerable, and I had my misgivings... but the inside-the-trouser holster did an outstanding job of concealing it... I had bought the cheap synthetic fiber Uncle Mike's version... I had tried the leather Bianchi at the shop and liked it.. .but the salesman advised me to buy the cheap one first... his rationale was that a lot of people can't get used to carrying their pistol inside their waistband... and since I have always used paddle style holsters, I caved.... very clever salesman, by the way... now that I have worn the rig for three days, and found it agreeable, I have to go back and pick up the Bianchi... two rigs instead of just one... bastard.... I should have bought the Bianchi first... but a bright side is always present... see, with two rigs, I have an angle for getting another mid-sized big boy... heh.. yeah, cue the "evil laugh".... mheh...

.. in other news, I have been trying to sing and play Nanci Griffith's "Speed of the Sound of Loneliness" today... I ain't that bad.. and before you guys initiate a Freudian firestorm on my happy ass, relax... I am not lonely... I just like the song.. ok?... something about the line "out there running just to be on the run" is alluring...

.. I saw Nanci two years ago at the Tennessee Theatre in Knoxville... such a tiny little doll she was... a brunette with glasses, too... she held the stage for two hours with the crowd absolutely hypnotized.. at the time, it was hard to believe that such a great power emanated from such a fragile frame.. .. but as I am beginning to learn... it shouldn't have surprised me... women are just built that way...

Impulse buying...

... in recent discussions, the idea of pornography as art has arisen... as readers of this wee site will certainly know, we here at Straight White Guy are totally downtown with that idea.. porn has a place, children... porn has a use... and some of it can, indeed, be considered art....

... I have been a longtime Joanne Guest fan... yeah.. I admit it.. even though she is a blonde, she just does something for me... personally, I blame it on her double-jointed backbone... I mean, it is just not natural for a female to arch their back that much... but I digress... (by the way, that link is not safe for work)..

.. anyway, a few weeks ago, in a fit of lust artistic appreciation, I purchased a seven foot poster of Ms. Guest from eBay.... well, it just arrived... let me tell you, seven feet is big, people... I didn't fully realize that until just now...

... but seven feet is huge.. and what is worse is that I have just been informed that my new poster is most definitely not Art... to say the very least, I am crestfallen..

... impulse buying, friends... caveat emptor... anyone want to buy a seven foot poster of a half-nekkid blonde British babe with amazing physical characteristics?...

Cats and Snakes...

.. today's memorable Quote of the Day absolutely boggles the mind...

"The two natural enemies engaged in heated, mortal combat underneath the brake pedal and Wilkerson was unable to stop, tumbling into the ditch, where the Cadillac sustained more than $1,000 in damage."

.. heh... I do believe we have a future Darwin Award winner blossoming in Wyoming....

Poor...

.. it's time again... poolnight is once again upon us.... hot damn... The Eagle Glen Social Club will be kicking it with prime vigor shortly...

... one of the "usuals", Cousin B, called me this morning around 10 and invited me to lunch... we enjoyed a wonderful country-fried meal at a local cafe.. complete with sweet iced tea... afterwards, we retired to the house to watch some vids and wait for the rest of the crew to arrive... they should be here around 6... oh, and just in case you were wondering, the answer is "yes"... yes, I chopped that tree down... with an axe... and I do feel slightly better...

... you know, having all of this free time is great.. but, I must admit... missing those faces I had grown so used to seeing is the worst part... the smiles of friends, and the laughter of my mates.... I miss that... I miss that incredibly... I never realized how much of a part of my life those people were... I had an idea, but I never fully understood... I am a poorer man by not enjoying their friendship every day.... and that is the only thing that hurts about this situation....

well hung...

... would you have sex with this man?...

"PORTLAND, Ore. Feb 13, 2005 ” A man who used an Internet chat room to try to set up a mass suicide on Valentine's Day had been trying to persuade women for at least five years to engage in sex acts with him and then kill themselves, a sheriff said Sunday."

... no, I didn't think so...

Day One...

... knowing that you rubberneckers are a curious lot, and are just drooling all over yourselves wondering what I am doing with all this spare time... prepare yourselves... what have I done with Day One of my unemployment newly found freedom?... here's the answer...

... woke up around 5:30..
... made coffee...
... drank coffee..
... wrote two blog posts while nekkid..
... sent a "thank you" email to all my ex-workmates..
... played and sang "Roller Derby Queen" by Jim Croce..
... read some blogs and drank coffee..
... showered and got dressed..
... drove into town and had lunch at Arby's...
... toured the local gun shop...
... bought another holster for my .45..
... fielded a call from a concerned blogger...
... talked on the phone with my gunsmith
... answered some emails..
... poured myself a large Scotch..
... and just typed this...

... tomorrow I am going to chop down a tree with an axe for dramatic renewal of purpose... WHOO!..

Everyone's doing it...

... damn, children... everyone seems to be confessing stuff... what gives?... ok, ok... I have a confession too.. I mean, if Bitterman can fess up... and Tom is actually a chick... and The Jawa has the skinny on that Libertarian lady... I suppose I have to be straight with you guys...

.. the truth be told, I am not actually white...

.. as Geoffrey once said, I actually have a pinkish hue..

... there... I feel better now... and before you ask, no... I am not going to change the name of this blog to straightpinkguy... deal with it...

Casey at the Blog...

... heh... this is pretty clever... although I am not quite sure about the "passing out" bit.. I can hold my liquor pretty well...

For Lovers...

... for all of the loves of my life... past and present.. Happy Valentine's Day...

.. this song was written by Harold Arlen and Johnny Mercer... and this version is being performed by Robbie Williams.... enjoy..

It's quarter to three, there's no one in the place
Except you and me
So set 'em' up joe, I got a little story
I think you should know
We're drinking my friend, to the end
Of a brief episode
Make it one for my baby
And one more for the road
I got the routine, put another nickel
In the machine
feeling so bad, won't you make the music
Easy and sad
I could tell you a lot, but it's not
In a gentleman's code
Just make it one for my baby
And one more for the road
You'd never know it, but buddy I'm a kind of poet
And I've got a lot of things I'd like to say
When I'm gloomy, won't you listen to me
Till it's talked away
Well that's how it goes, and Joe I know your gettin'
Anxious to close
Thanks for the cheer
I hope you didn't mind
My bending your ear
But this torch that I found, it's gotta be drowned
Or soon might explode
Make it one for my baby
And one more for the road

... peace, Brothers & Sisters...

Unemployed...

... on this day in 1929, Capone took on Bugs Moran's outfit... if you look closely at the photo below, you will see history has repeated itself this year... heh...

.. Happy Valentine's Day, rubberneckers...

Doing my part...

... I've seen loads of bloggers talking about "MSM"... main stream media... and the fact that bloggers are rapidly morphing into a more valuable news source... out with the old Cronkites and Rathers... in with Instapundit and Protein Wisdom... well, I have felt remiss as of late... my blogging duties have failed to produce any newsworthy items to scoop for you rubberneckers.. instead, you've just been getting stories about litter...

... that's all coming to an end though... I have seen the light...

... a groundbreaking news story of epic proportions... what is it?.... well, it seems that everyone's favorite Tribute Bands have been interviewed about their sexual perversions preferences... remember, children, you heard it here first... just what does a Bono wannabe like to listen to while bumping uglies?... look no further...

... "Do you have sex to your version of the song, or their version?
Joe: Well, their version is ours. We do exact versions of U2 songs. If I could borrow Bono's penis, I would."...

... indeed...

Chili and Cobbler...

... I've spent the last few hours making chili and peach cobbler... what?... hey, bite me... I never said I was a gourmet.... it's my Valentine's present.... besides, chili and peach cobbler APPEALS to me.... it positively screams, "I love you, take off your knickers".... hey, what?....

... anyway, tomorrow, I work... and it is her turn to cook for me... fair IS fair, after all... I'll give you the rundown of HER menu tomorrow night....

... so, I am signing off for the night.... I have managed to spend most of my day cooking, baking, playing guitar, mixing drinks, watching some vids, reading some blogs, talking to bloggers on the cell phone, and generally making a mess of the blogroom... incidentally, I sure hope this Hopps Oil stain comes out of the carpet..

.. but now it is time to settle in with a nice vid of the Bride's choosing, and set her lips on fire with my chili.. more than likely, it will be (again) Seven Brides for Seven Brothers... "Bless your beautiful hide", indeed.... I still prefer the "Rape of the Sabine Women".. but, maybe later.... the night is young...

.. Happy Valentine's Day, Rubberneckers!!..

Tangents...

... three years ago, I dropped my life in Scotland, and moved back to Tennessee to take care of my Father... his cancer had worsened, and he was on the downward slope... and my help was needed.. so, I packed up, and skidded the Ocean.. just like that... quit my job... said a few goodbyes... and caught the first flight to Chattanooga... in the process of leaving so quickly, my Wife's immigration paperwork was found to not be in order... after all, I had never planned on ever leaving Scotland... as such, we were caught flatfooted... but with our situation, I could not wait on her... and I left her behind...

.. the result of this was that I spent 7 months living off of my savings... taking care of my Dad.. and staying in my old childhood bedroom.. telephoning the Wife every few days to let her know what was going on...

... when I wasn't sitting with Dad and reading or talking, I was outside... doing yard work... building fence... target practicing in the back yard... helping with the vegetable garden... but I never strayed far from home.. I wanted to be near just in case something happened...

... it is strange how our minds work.. especially with memories... I was just reading The Redneck talk about flinging beer bottles at signs, and it made me think of this... what a tangent... still, I suppose you never know what will ignite the imagination... what might cast you back to those old, dusty archives...

... in the course of those 7 months, on two occasions, my Cousin Brad dragged me out of the house to seek normalcy... once, we took a lunch and a case of beer and drove up to White Cliffs on Starr's Mountain... we just sat there eating and drinking until the sun set.. we both knew that my Dad didn't have much more time.. we didn't even talk that much that day.. we just sat... it was a welcome break..

... the other time is better seated in my mind... as I write this, I find that I can remember strange little details.. had you asked me yesterday, I would have had no idea of many of these things.. .but today, it all seems so fresh...

... it was my 7th wedding anniversary and I had not seen my Wife in 5 months.. my Dad was now bedridden... and my Mother and I were bracing ourselves for the inevitable... then Brad called... it was his suggestion that we celebrate my anniversary... I agreed... I needed to get away for a while... we decided on Calhoun's at the Marina.. a fancy dinner... so, we donned our finest suits... (it was the first time Brad had worn a tie in probably 10 years).. loaded into his old jeep, and headed out... I remember our waitress.. she asked us what we were celebrating... Brad winked at her, and pointed at me, "My Cousin here, he just made his first million.. that's what we're celebrating, honey."... the rest of the night, we received sterling service, children.. and she was given a worthy tip...

... I remember ordering their locally brewed beer... a dark, Cherokee ale... then, prime rib... a blooming onion.. and a side of white chili... I remember that the waitress told us she was from Kingsport.. I remember sitting after the meal drinking double Macallans and watching the waitress flirt with Brad.. after the meal, the sun had set on the lake, and the Fort Loudon Dam was lit up like a Christmas tree... fog was rolling in off the lake, and the dam looked as if it was glowing... we stopping at the Jiffy in Loudon on our way back home and bought a six pack of Miller Genuine Draft... just south of town, we turned left off of Highway 11 and disappeared onto those deserted country roads..

... halfway home, I did something that I had not done in years... I unzipped the window of Brad's jeep, leaned out, and tossed an empty bottle towards a County Road sign.. I nailed it... the bottle exploded into a million shattered pieces.. and I smiled...

... it's hard to imagine what one act of civil disobedience - coupled with littering a public road - did to me that night.. that night, I was 17 years old again... my Dad wasn't dying... and my Wife was not 5,000 miles away... that night, it was just Brad and I enjoying a slight buzz with bellies full of the finest food in east Tennessee... dressed to the nines... living life on the back roads of McMinn County...

Saturday Evening Post...

.. for those of you who might be wondering, I have just downshifted from Islay's fine Bowmore single malt to Bushmills neat.... so with many apologies to the faithful Rockwellians out there, this Saturday Evening's Post finds me channeling Tom Waits and growling.... yes... growling, children.. it really is a sight to see..

UPDATE:

.. actually, the Marine in this Rockwell painting favors me quite a bit..

Party Music...

... these people are having entirely too much fun... The Bad Example Family reunion is well underway... I'm not actually family... I'm more like the crazy Uncle Larry no one talks about... but I was still invited.... I had been scheduled to man the grill this weekend, but the ducks just didn't line up... dammit...

... anyway, since I let them down, I figure that the very least I could do is throw some music their way... maybe a little something for each of them... hmm... where to start?...

... for Harvey.... Mr. Bad Example....
... for Tammi... Honky Tonk Woman...
... for Boudicca... Sweet Baby James...
... for Johnny Oh... Born to be Bad..
... for FrankJ.... Lawyers, Guns, and Money...
... for SarahK... Love You Madly..
... for LeeAnn ... Sweet Child O'Mine...
... for Teresa... Satisfaction...
... for _Jon... Lenny..

.. enjoy the music, guys... I reall, REALLY wish I had made it down there...

UPDATE... for Harvey's Beloved Wife... more Cake... "at Citibank, we will meet accidentally"... heh...

Called out...

... my blogdaughter has called Daddy out... ok, Chrissy... I'll bite....

... you want to talk about holding hands?... c'mon, girl... romance, lust, and love are much more than that, dear... how do I show my beloved how I feel?... well, usually it is without a public display of affection..

...let me just rack this baby up a notch or two.... you see, love, lust, tenderness, and desire can indeed be shown without saying a word... but I will take it a step farther... if you do it right, and it is coming from your soul, you don't even need to touch the object of your affection... they can sense it... it is tangible, and in the air.. like static electricity with a will of its own..

... I have looked in a woman's eyes.. watched the pupils dilate and contract.. saw the wisp of a smile cross her lips.. caught the slight movement of her chest as her breath quickened... and seen the tiger within her purr to the surface... I have witnessed sexual tension so thick you could practically spread it on toast... I've seen too, the effect of mere words.. spoken AND written bring her - quivering - to her knees... I have smelled a perfume that could conjure the headiest of emotions...

.. being married to someone for 10 years, or having just met 10 minutes ago... if you lose the animal inside you, you have lost the spark...

... when I love someone, they have no doubt about it...

Finally... a .45..

... I am a joyous man, rubberneckers... I know, I know.. I am usually a pretty damn joyous guy anyway.. but today is special.... I finally took the plunge into .45 ACP... tomorrow, I'm off to the range to try her our...

... behold... isn't she just beautiful?.. Italian lines that would make Sophia Loren blush...

... the Beretta 8045 Cougar....

.. I handled a large selection of .45s today... I set off with my heart focused on the HK USP... but once I held it, it just didn't speak to me... so I went down the line.. Sig.. Kimber... Ruger.. Smith & Wesson... Springfield Armory... too heavy... too large... two-toned... just plain ugly... grip didn't feel right... didn't like the sight picture... and then, I saw her...

... quite literally, it was lust love at first sight.. "8 rounds in the mag, and one in the tube", she whispered in my ear.. and in an instant, I achieved wood..

... my daily carry weapon has just been replaced, children... the .380 can stay in the glove box.. because, as of now, I pack a .45...

.. did I mention that today was a wonderful day?.. yeah, I thought I did...

Boozeblog...

... Moxie's idea sounds like fun... actually, I am making a booze-run to Knoxville tomorrow to refill the liquor cabinet... still, I guess I could direct her attention to this gorgeous creature from a few weeks ago.. mmm... nectar of the Gods, it was..

Because I got nothing..

... ahhhh, Friday... I didn't think I'd enjoy having these Fridays off so much... but children, let me tell you, three-day weekends kick it..

... that being said, I was just sitting here going through some photos from the last Social Club meeting, and I feel like sharing... you'll have to forgive the blur... but the digital camera does not lie... heh.. by 10pm on Wednesday, everyone is visually impaired...

.. here I am in all my pig-skinned glory... my lizard, my Meucci, and me..

.. click here for the gigantosize...

Bone-scraping Update..

... a nice covering of snow is layered up near North River today... you can see it from the parking lot, cold and blue in the distance... a dry, light snow is falling here too.. the clouds are black and laden with the promise of more to come... but 36 degrees here in the valley, and it won't lay... the snow doesn't seem to care though, and it's coming regardless...

... the Social Club meeting last night went off without a hitch.. the regular crowd loafed in, and I force-fed them Willie Nelson tunes while kicking tail on the pool table... word, people.. Willie Nelson's Greatest Hits, Volume I & II are not ideal pool hall tunes... it is practically impossible to look fearsome and sing "Faded Love" at the same time.... anyway, after a while their protest reached a fever pitch... it was quite horrible to see grown men cry that much... so I caved, and we tagged Zevon to drag us to the finish line... he did so in fine fashion, too... another successful evening notched up for the Eagle Glen Social Club...

.. oh, and my Mother came through her bone-scraping surgery just fine... she's set to make a speedy recovery... she's a trooper...

The Tribe...

... art, children, is one of the truest signs of man's Humanity.... watching life, reflecting, and connecting.... not everyone can do that, you know... it is an enviable gift... and it can't be taught...

... this morning, as I skirted the blogroll, I found this post.. from The Velociman.. this, gentle rubberneckers, is art...

... as I read it, two thoughts flashed through my mind.. one is a quote from Thornton Wilder's "Our Town"... the part where Emily is watching her family...

Emily: Do any human beings ever realize life while they live it . . . every, every minute?

Stage Manager: No . . . the saints and poets maybe, they do, some.

... and what he really means to say is.. "and NONE of us ENOUGH"...

... the other thought was of that insidiously evil ditty from "My Fair Lady"... "all I want is a room somewhere..."...

... speckled pig, indeed... I feel ya, Brother... but still, that's my day hammered... I'll NEVER get that song out of my head.... so, c'mon.. sing it with me, children.. ..."far away from the cold night air"...

Ouch...

... I love watching Rugby... I really do.. and the Six Nations Championship is one of the best tournaments around... Ireland, Scotland, England, Wales, France, and Italy.. fierce, passionate rivalries.. hard fought matches... Fox World Sports carries the television coverage, if you are interested...

.. anyway, I just happened by The Alpaca Burger Forum, and found this little story... somehow, it really doesn't surprise me... the Welsh are anything, if not true to their word... the strange thing is, normally a bet that England is gonna stomp a hole in the Welsh is a pretty sure thing.. heh.. poor guy... dumbass...

...scraping...

... the dear, Sainted Mother is undergoing orthoscopic knee surgery today.. arthritis, it seems, has crept into a few of her joints.. when she spoke to the doctor, he said he would be "scraping the build-up off of the bones around her knee"... damn...

... just for the record, the words "scraping" and "bone" should never be used in the same sentence... unless you are talking about roast beef and Yorkshire pudding...

... in other news, I was just outside enjoying a smoke, and I read the label on my jacket... the new leather jacket I bought in Dundee a few months ago... heh... the label read "Porc Nappa"... charming... now, I'm no linguistic genius, but that sounds a LOT like swine skin to me... how absolutely perfect... my life has come full circle... karma, children... I knew I was drawn to this jacket on the rack for some reason...

Shadowy Figures...

... what a world we live in, children... what a world... when old ladies sue teenagers for bringing them cookies... the end is nigh...

"DURANGO, Colorado (AP) -- Two teenage girls who surprised their neighbors with homemade cookies late one night were ordered to pay nearly $900 in medical bills for a woman who says she was so startled that she had to go to the hospital."

... feeble, mean, weepy, weak, and pathetic... what a world...

Update: Mike the Marine agrees..

Interesting...

... hot damn... I just got a hit from a google search... the phrase being sought was...

.. "how the hell do you shave with a straight razor"...

... I am number 9 on that seach out of 42,900.. Acidman is, of course, numero uno...

... one can only assume that dear Sadie googled that.. hey... just don't cut me, darlin'.. I hate bleeding in the sand... remember that scene from Clash of the Titans?... just think Giant Scorpions... we do not want to go there...

The Truth..

... I see from the stampede of rubberneckers dashing to purchase a SWG shirt for their lasses, that you people really are completely worthless... not only are you snubbing your noses at the fine boob-separating logo on those delicate shirts, but you are foregoing the SWG BBQ apron AND wall clock... bastards...

... ahh.. It's ok... I really can't blame you... I mean, Hell... I haven't even bought anything myself..

... truly depressing, it is.. so.. since your beloveds are going to be without their decorative boobwear this Valentine's Day, let me just give you a tip from Ogden Nash... a man of vision and understanding... you see, the customary delectable for this holiday is the ubiquitous heart-shaped box of chocolate.. usually accompanied by a pink-enveloped card gushing some sort of heartfelt mushy sentiment...

.. as is the usual here, we must cut to the chase... drill deep, and find the core of the matter... in life, in love, and in achieving one's goals....

... "candy is dandy, but liquor is quickor"..

... clear, concise, and true... everything else is just smoke, children...

From the Email..

... I just found this little goodie in my email inbox... but before I post it, I feel the need to interject a quick quote from Will Rogers... he was, after all, a wise, wise man... ole Willie once said... "The income tax has made more liars out of the American people than golf has".. and he was right... oh, and that quote is from "The Illiterate Digest".. 1924...

... the tax proposed below?.. it will rival the income tax in liar creation.. on that, you can bet...

The only thing that the IRS has not yet taxed is the male penis. This is due to the fact that 40% of the time it is hanging around unemployed, 30% of the time it is hard up, 20% of the time it is pissed off and 10% of the time it is in the hole. On top of that, it has two dependents and they are both nuts.

*****NOTE*****
We are still waiting for answers for the following questions: - Are there penalties for early withdrawals? - What if one's penis is self employed? - Do multiple partners count as a corporation? - Are condoms a deductible expense as work clothes? - Is there an additional tax if you are not circumcised?

One of Those Days..

... you ever have one of those incredible days where you wake up wide-eyed, and find that the planets have all aligned?... the coffee you pick up at the 7-11 is pure gourmet stuff, fit for a king... the daily drive to work leaves you breathless with excitement?.. as the road, your car, and you completely merge into one throbbing, hurtling hunk of pure speed?... the walk through the office causes female co-workers to collapse from spontaneous orgasms toe-curling lust spasms as you walk by?... the men gathered around the coffee maker lower their heads in respect as you amble over, knowing you are the Alpha Male, and that they are simply not worthy?... then sit down at your desk with the phone ringing, only to hear the ex-high school cheerleader you once lusted after (now turned librarian bank teller), advise you that your 250K high interest CD is maturing today.. and that she'd like to discuss your reinvestment options?...

.. no?.. fuck, neither have I.... dammit...

Quote of the Day..

.. today's Quote comes from the Daily Pennsylvanian... a little toilet humor art to start your day...

"The relief you are now experiencing is made possible by a gift from Michael Zinman," read circular silver plaques above the urinals in the men's restroom of the Van Pelt Library."

.. I've got a fairly good sense of humor.. but this eccentric guy commissioned Poet Laureates to write poems about urinals.. in a million years, children, I'd never have thought of that... I love it...

Super Bowl..

... today is Super Bowl Sunday... not really my bag.. I'm not going to watch it tonight... I could care less.... for the most part, I detest professional sports... especially the big three... football, baseball, and basketball... oh, and I suppose that after this latest media ruckus, you can add hockey to the list too... money, money, money... what the Hell ever happened to playing a sport you loved?...

... I played organized baseball all during my childhood... Little League.. Babe Ruth... Dixie League.. High School... I was a catcher... I loved it... being part of the baseball battery is, in my humble opinion, the most exciting part... I handled every pitch... I got to know the batters... I could see their stances, and advise my pitcher properly... I'd give signals to move infielders and outfielders to better locations.... a catcher doesn't just catch the ball, people.. he catches clues... and he uses those clues to try to defeat you... I absolutely adored it... sure, it was probably the dirtiest job on the field.. sweating under all that equipment on those long Tennessee summers... but the thrill of it more than made up for the torment... baseball ruled me in my youth... and 12 years of catching ruined my knees.. but it was grand...

.. now, it seems that the idols we looked up to in our pasts were just in it for the cash... that is a truly sad state of affairs... and it is a deep, deep shame that this upcoming generation is holding those guys up as role models... some of the pros still have the spark... but most?... they are just in it for the paycheck..

... as a result, I tend to watch sports with smaller pay packets... or no paychecks at all.. Rugby Union springs to mind... for the most part, those players have real jobs when they aren't representing their countries in international matches... that, children, is what I respect... they leave their mantles as dentist, or farmer... take a few months to train, and go compete all over the world... why?... because the LOVE the game they play... for honor and pride, they play their hearts out... and bleed every second week...

... to a certain extent, collegiate sports catch my attention too... you have intrastate rivalry... tradition.. 18 year old Quarterbacks still wet behind the ears... it all just seems more real than watching the pros...

... Super Bowl Sunday can come and go.. I ain't gonna watch it... I'm going to go cheer for Jack Nicholson as he woos Helen Hunt on DVD... As Good As It Gets... at least with his character, I can relate..

Quote of the Day..

.. to err is human... to forgive, divine... however, neither of which is Marine Corps policy... heh...

"You go into Afghanistan, you got guys who slap women around for five years because they didn't wear a veil," Mattis said. "You know, guys like that ain't got no manhood left anyway. So it's a hell of a lot of fun to shoot them."

.. later in the article, we find this...

"I was a little surprised," said retired Vice Adm. Edward H. Martin. "I don't think any of us who have ever fought in wars liked to kill anybody."

... hmmm... I know that a lot of people are freaking out over the General's remark.... but, I understand it.... remember that scene in Lonesome Dove when they are getting ready to hang Jake Spoon?... Gus looks at the leader of the horse thieves and says.. "you're the kind of man that it's a pleasure to hang.. if you're gonna talk guff, you can go and talk it to the Devil"... and with that, he was executed...

... well, I think General Mattis was just channeling Gus.. give him a break... hey, ain't nothing wrong with that.. I do it myself at least twice a week...

Max & Spade...

... Jimbo has lit the fuse on the latest of Christina's brainchildren.. The Blog Noir... if the other chapters match up to what Jim has written, look out... he has certainly set the stage for the girls to perform on... it is a truly outstanding piece of writing... I have every faith in the Ladies who are to follow him... but, they'd better dig deep.. they sure have their work cut out for them...

Shaving...

... Dax got me thinking this morning... I needed a shave... a real shave.. being a redhead, I can get by with shaving every other day... my daily stubble can be felt, but not seen unless I go for more than two days... it is a blessing and a curse... a blessing in that I don't have to shave that often... and a curse in that if I ever wanted to grow a mustache, it'd take me 3 years of cultivation it before it'd be visible... dammit.... on the other hand, I had a roommate once who had to shave twice a day to keep the NCOs from writing him up.. he would have a complete, full beard at the end of a weekend of camping... compared to him, I feel perfectly blessed..

... Mr. Montana is right about another thing, too... if you have never had yourself shaved by a barber with a straight razor, you are missing out... I was shaved every day when I was in Dhaka by a little, gnarled-up, 100 year old man... he would wrap my face in a hot towel... lather up the soap.. and work that razor like a madman... never once cut me... afterwards, he'd comb my hair, douse me with a sweet smelling antiseptic, and send me on my way... fresh as a daisy... all for fifteen cents...

... I've never enjoyed using an electric razor though.. I always preferred a blade... it just seems cleaner... for the past few years, I have been a Mach III guy... I like'em... those puppies cut through my fair-haired whiskers like nobody's business... good stuff... and I prefer shaving gel to foam too, while we're at it...

... anyway, two weeks ago, I was gifted an antique razor.. gold plated... complete with the original box, spare blades, and leather sharpening strop.. it's a beaut... I was tempted to break it out, and give it a go this morning after reading Dax's post... but, upon further reflection, I lost my nerve... I'll leave the 1917 technology in the box, and stick to my Mach III... there is something deeply psychological about that little "moisture strip" on my Gillette... it just oozes "I will not cut you, friend"... this little darling does NOT give off the same vibe.. at all..

... the photos really don't do it justice.. this baby is a work of art...

.. the Valet AutoStrop Razor.. Made in the U.S.A..

cryin' genes...

.. well, hot DAMN, children.. meet my first troll!.. sure, compared to many, it ain't much.. but, I finally got one!!.. and she's a GIRL!...

.. the funny thing is, she laid her smackdown upon me in response to this post.. sheesh... out of all the stupid shit I have written here, I get slammed for being a brunette lover??.. Ben Stiller fans and girls with Australian boyfriends hate me, it seems.. heh... my life is complete.. anyway, quickly on to the point... our plucky Ozgirl replied to my post thusly...

"You are just lucky there aren't more Aussie men around or you'd become extinct. Your genes must just cry themselves to sleep at night. Women find that whole hubba hubba routine really really off you know. Give me outback Jack anyday. Well, actually, I've got a version of him. Sort of mute but capable, truthful and devoted. Gotta love Australians."

.. actually, dear, I fear extinction quite a lot.. so, I'll try to stay away from areas swarming with Aussie men... secondly, I had been wondering why I was having trouble sleeping lately.. now I know!... it was my genes crying and keeping me awake.. you are so insightful, Ozgirl.. your man is a lucky, lucky guy...

.. as for the women disliking the "hubba hubba" routine?.. where'd you read that, sister?.. I wasn't slamming Australian men, I was simply pointing out that Outback Jack is a total fucking moron for not picking one of the sexy brunettes.. especially Laura.. she was a total hottie... so please go back and re-read that post, Ozgirl.. this time with a little less PMS action...

.. yeah, yeah.. I know... I probably shouldn't have mentioned the PMS thing.. that was just crass.. I am sorry... let me close this by just saying how incredibly proud I am that you took the time and effort to leave that comment.. you have truly made my day, ma'am... I hope that you continue to haunt these parts, and weren't just a random googler... I wish you a long and prosperous life with your capable, truthful, devoted, mute, Australian man... go in peace, gentle sister..

.. oh, and HUBBA HUBBA...

Quote of the Day...

... today's quote comes from the student newspaper of Georgia State University...

.... "If there is any disturbing factor of an orgasm, it is only that one will not be enough"...

... higher education, people.. I love it... so, thank you, Casey Lythgoe... rock on, babe...

On Groundhogs..

... have you ever heard of those critters being referred to as whistlepigs?.. heh... well, it is true... why?.. I have no idea... absolutely none... but having grown up surrounded by farmland, Smallholder has the right idea about groundhogs whistlepigs... especially when they are predicting more Winter... bastards...

.. Punxsutawney Phil, indeed..

Wednesday again..

... well, Wednesday is here again, rubberneckers... the meeting of the Eagle Glen Social Club shall once more discuss the issues of the day.. set many wrongs aright.. enjoy a few drinks... and shoot some pool... we are unchangeable.... even though our circle has been rocked of late... we have found, over the past three Wednesdays, that we are not the same as we once were... we are different, these 18 months on, and it is a good thing.... our group has not really been whole for the past three months... some have strayed from the fold.. some pieces of our puzzle have been lost...

... it is truly sad... it really is... and, if the truth was known, my heart really isn't in the mood tonight.. distracted, disdainful, and brokenhearted, am I... but, it is Wednesday... and they are coming anyway.. why?... because it is Wednesday.. and they need this just as much as I do...

... we made a pact last weekend... no matter what happens... good or bad.. life, death, prison, or divorce... we will not stop... these Wednesdays have evolved from their drunken beginnings... and now represent a Greater Thing... an unspoken bond of friendship that can weather these storms...

... I am a lucky, lucky man.. as a matter of fact, the Social Club really isn't mine anymore... it is ours... we have each other...

Strangeways, indeed...

... while surfing for fodder to satisfy you beasts, I happened upon this tingly little article.... niiiiice.... tales from lovely ladies about various sexual escapades... what's not to like?... oh, and many of them are bloggers... imagine... who knew bloggers liked talking about sex so much?... shocking, that's what it is...

... here is a tidbit from Jen Hubley's frolic...

"That's not going to work. You're too short. Stand on the Joker step-stool."

"I really hope you're not expecting much, because I think I'm going to have trouble concentrating with Pogo the Killer Clown staring at me."

... yep... I can relate, Jennie... Pogo might have put me off just a bit, too...

Willpower...

... I had a long trip out to the cotton belt of Tennessee today... four hours each way.... few bright points, children... one of the few, though, was when I stopped at a Waffle House on the crest of Monteagle Mountain, and had a cup of coffee... it was perfection.. an oasis of civilization in a dark forest.. complete with a smoking-section waitress recently hypnotized (as in last night) to cure her from smoking... I didn't know that at the time, but she slid over, and asked for my order... her voice was honey.. a combination of growl and purr.... a smoke-cured Southern voice.. 35 years of inhaling the best the Turkish had to offer....

... later, as I rose up to pay my bill, she stood beside me... she watched the smoke from my Camel hang in the air... she took a deep breath, and purred.... "I could inhale that clear to my toes"... I laughed... and then, of course, came the story... I left her tip behind, and moved towards the counter... as she took my money, she recounted the story of the hypnotherapist... just last night she had taken the plunge... and even though she had been working in the smoking section all morning, she'd been doing fine... until she met me... she now wanted another smoke... heh... yes, I broke her will...

... as I handed her my 20 dollar bill, the old man sitting near me looked up... "you quit smoking last night?, he grumbled... "damn, baby... now that you've quit the cigs, it looks like you are gaining weight"...

.. I thought she was going to kill that poor bastard...

... yes, friends... this actually happened... just as I-24 crosses Monteagle.... good God... I love the Waffle House...

Hail to the Chief...

... Acidman is kicking it up a notch... not only is he posting more campaign promises, he is also posting (under the Freedom of Information Act, of course) minutes of our Cabinet meetings.... so far, none of us have been assasinated.. which is a very good thing...

... he's also stacking the deck fleshing out the rest of his Cabinet... heh... let the good times roll, children.. and remember... "Vote for the Reprobate in 2008!"...

.. I trust there shall be protesters at the Wreckyll in Jekyll.. oh, goodie....