Chicago, Part II...

... where to begin... ahhhh, yes... another bar & restaurant.. this time a classy joint called Ba-ba-reeba... a tapas bar... actually, my first taste of that kind of cuisine... but their Happy Hour started at 3pm... so it was a very nice choice...

... once Matt and I got his broken vehicle squared away and found my "stolen luggage", we skedaddled back to his place to change and get cleaned up... we arrived at the front door of Ba-ba-reeba, and Blackfive told me to go ahead and go in... he had to run down the street to a pharmacy... his noggin was still thumping from Tuesday morning's fun... anyway, feeling bulletproof, I headed into the bar...

... seated in the corner and looking incredibly suspicious were The Laughing Wolf and That 1 Guy... by the way, Joe (T1G) is like a friggin mountain... I'm not a small guy, but he towered over me like a giant oak.. I had a flash that maybe the whole Wang deal wasn't such a good idea... but after a few handshakes, I realized that his sense of humor was even bigger than his physical stature.. so the knee-jerk reaction of imagining him slamming my face repeatedly into the tabletop was replaced by watching him jovially slam gulps of Guinness down his gizzard.. the relief in the room was palpable..

... Blake, The Laughing Wolf, I had met before, and it was a pleasant sight to see him again.. ominously, though, after our greeting he pointed to a backpack that was stashed in the corner.. "I've got us some Scotch for later", he grinned... heh.. a man of high character and moral fiber, he is.. but, alas.. after the previous night's activities, I cleaved unto the beer all evening... (with the exception of two shots of tequila as we left our final bar and parted)... but maybe next time, Blake..

.. we hadn't been there long when Teresa and Tammi arrived... being the upstanding guy, I asked them if they'd like a drink. and in a flash, an Appletini was presented to the tall, redheaded goddess... seriously, folks... if you ever meet Tammi.. you will quickly become a fast friend if you can magically conjure a steady flow of Appletinis... as for the platinum-haired, ever-smiling beauty, Teresa... she dropped the shocker of the evening when she asked for an Amaretto Sour... a woman of taste and culture, she is..

... next to show up was Graumagus of Frizzen Sparks... a Guinness-drinking fiend if ever I saw one... between him and That 1 Guy, you'd be wise to start buying stock in Guinness... if either of them pop their clogs, the consumption of that Irish brew will plummet in the northern United States... yeah, I know you don't get stock tips here very often, but trust me.. run with it, children.. you won't be sorry...

... the tail-end Charlies were Mr. Bad Example and his wonderful Wife, Smiling Dynamite... what an absolute pleasure to meet them.. they seemed like the two happiest people on the planet all night... and Mrs. Dynamite can work a pool table, too... but that is a story for another time...

... after a wonderful meal of various seared hunks of flesh, Mr. Blackfive directed us towards a few local watering holes... we pub crawled for blocks.. laughing and drinking... telling jokes, stories, and lies... at times, we'd get some one-on-one time with each other as we caught someone heading to the bar or jukebox.. we talked of blogs, books, writers, and our families... music, The Military, friends, and travel... we asked questions, and quoted each other.. we took notes - mental and written, and shuffled blogrolls.. but most of all, we simply enjoyed meeting each other... as with every blogmeet I have ever attended, I met some incredible, interesting, and truly talented people.. my thanks goes out to you all.. the pleasure was all mine...

.. I could go on about all of the wild fun we had... but the rest of you would just get jealous... so I will keep the small pleasures, moments, and memories of that night to myself... I actually started to list them here in this post, but decided against it... because in the end, if you want to know what REALLY goes on at a blogmeet... attend one... some things have to be lived to be appreciated.. and writing about them is just not the same...

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Chicago, Part I...

.... first off, let me just say that my Chicago adventure was broken into two distinct episodes... Monday night/Tuesday morning where Matty and I hit the town... and Tuesday night/Wednesday morning where we hooked up with some great bloggers for dinner and drinks.... as such, I shall dedicate two separate posts to my sojourn... why?... well, because the tales are too long to include in one post....

... that being said, due to National Security issues, the whole sordid tale of Matt and I on the town will be slightly sanitized to protect us... however, I will say this... either he, or myself are destined for great things... perhaps curing cancer... foiling terrorists... or something equally heroic.. verily... Divine Providence is the only answer to how we survived... God must surely be keeping us safe for a reason...

... airport... Navy Pier... beer & a chicken sandwich... swapping Search and Rescue stories... sunshine and sunglasses.. an Irish pub.. friendly locals... 4pm... more pubs.. name-dropping begins... Matty knows everyone... another Irish pub... dinner at Indian restaurant... Vietnamese bar.. Le Colonial.. gorgeous bartender and waitress... (thank you, Ladies)... more name dropping.. "aawwww... what a nice Southern accent".... "you don't know the half of it, baby"... double Taliskers on the rocks... again... and again... 11pm.. taxi... Irish pub.... South Side.. WTF... flattened tires... unfriendly locals at 4am... two inebriated palefaces... a recipe for disaster... circle the wagons.. abandoned vehicles... escape and evasion... scars, cars, and sixty bucks... phone calls neither of us remember making... Indian Country, part II... taxi... escape...

... break to morning....

... 10am.... slamming water from a children's sippy cup.. hey, it was all I could find... Matt writes this... where's the car?... is there a car?... trouble.. big time.. search begins... Indian Country at noon.. frantic search... topographical landmarks... Cook County Jail.. drunken memories.. gravel parking lot... success... amazement... disbelief... wrecker.. tow truck.. too surreal for words... time to meet the bloggers... holy shit...

... ok, now... you, gentle rubbernecker, can take or leave the random words above as you wish... the whole story is saved for face-to-face meetings... there is simply no way in HELL that I can do the story justice in a written media... however, I can tell you this... adventures such as Monday night & Tuesday morning are the things of which Legends are made... yea, verily... the luck of the Irish.. and the luck of the Redhead is not to be underestimated...

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by Eric | Permalink | Bullshit(9) | Drinking
» Drunken Wisdom links with: Mish Mash

Truth...

... word, rubberneckers.... as the world turns, this is the truth...

... do you have a blog, or does a blog have you?...

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I'm back...

.. good God... what a mess...

.. I'm back from partying with some great Ladies and Gentlemen... and, yeah... I use those terms in the broadest possible terms... heh...

.. a full report will be posted tomorrow... until then, just soak this over for a moment.. 45 minutes after arriving home from Chicago, with my blistered feet on the lam, the first of my Wednesday revelers showed.... what a party... thus, once again, it begins.... the truest cycle of life... eat, sleep, drink, laugh, repeat...

... the tale you shall hear tomorrow.... well.... it'll be killer... mayhem, children... mayhem..

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there's the danger

eric.bmp

Just think about it. Just imagine how humiliating it must be to blog your ass off for more than a year, then go out of town and ask someone to trash your house guest-blog for you while you're gone and see your stats go through the roof because YOU AREN'T THERE!!!

With a little help from my perverted loyal readers and this guy, Eric has increased his traffic significantly just by GOING AWAY. (Face it, Eric--- people just don't like you.) Of course, I drank all of his liquor, shot up his house, broke two windows, set his kitchen and porch on fire, left a VERY questionable stain on his couch, stole a pair of his wife's panties and.... uh... altered his cat somewhat, but he's going to forget about all that minor stuff when he checks his site meter.

Then, he will rejoice for the time it takes him to drive to Rincon and carve my guts out with his skinning knife.


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by Acidman | Permalink | Bullshit(10)

I'm in serious trouble now

Eric's liquor cabinet is empty. What I didn't drink, I spilled on the floor and I think I shit my pants on his sofa last night. (No... I don't THINK so...I KNOW SO! But I can wash my pants in his kitchen sink, right next to his dinner-plates. I don't know how I'm going to explain that stain on the sofa.)

I had a problem with gravity after I drank that entire bottle of Scotch he had stashed 'waaay back there for special occasions. I think I barfed on the floor, too, but I can blame that on the cat.

The whole house still smells like smoke and burnt plastic garbage can, so I decided to air the place out today. Damn! He sure has some of those tricky windows to open. I broke two before I figured out how to operate them. I'm going to blame that on the cat, too. Once Eric sees that tail-less, half-toasted critter, he'll believe my story. Hell... I would believe it and I know it's a lie.

I was staggering around, minding my own business, and I somehow ended up in Fiona's underwear drawer. She wears a size panties that fits perfectly on my head. They smell a lot better than I do, too. I probably should have not walked out on the still-smoldering deck wearing nothing but those panties on my head while my pants soaked in the kitchen sink, but I did, and I'm pretty sure that I was spotted by one of Eric's neighbors. I'm pretty sure that I heard someone yell "PERVERT!" as they were running away.

I hear sirens in the distance and I believe that I detect flashing blue lights approaching through the Tennessee hills. I may have to make a hasty exit here, to avoid a conflict with the law that I really don't want.

Damn! I don't know how fast I can run in these wet blue jeans, but I'm about to find out.

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by Acidman | Permalink | Bullshit(7)
» Fistful of Fortnights links with: Lesssons Learned Today.
» The Pink Flamingo Bar Grill links with: I wanna buy this guy a drink....

that was an accident

Did you know that if you try to be a good, polite house-guest and empty an ashtray into a plastic garbage can when a butt is still smoldering in the tray, you can start a fire? Yeah, I knew that, too--- but I didn't realize that my last cigarette wasn't completely extinguished. Eric must keep fresh batteries in his smoke alarm, because that motherfucker is LOUD when it goes off.

I was somewhat disoriented from raiding the liquor cabinet again and I forgot all of the extensive Fire School training I received over the years. I grabbed that pot on the stove and tossed the contents on top of the fire in the trash can.

Hell... I couldn't see well because of all the smoke and I thought the pot was full of water. How was I supposed to know it was grease? Bejus! I wonder how long it's going to take to grow my eyebrows back? I was thinking about shaving the moustache anyway, so that's no big deal, but Eric doesn't have the kitchen he once did.

Well, he's still got what's left of the kitchen, but that trash can had to be removed with a shovel while it was still bubbling like volcanic lava. I threw that out on the deck and I'll be damned if the deck didn't catch fire, too. Did you know that treated outdoor wood burns REALLY GOOD? Well, trust me. It does.

A cat came running up from under the steps and I grabbed it by the tail and used the cat to beat down the flames, until its tail came off in my hand. I put out the fire, but I don't think the cat likes me at all now. Its hairless, tail-less scorched and half-cooked ass hisses at me every time it sees me now.

I can explain away all the fire damage and the missing trash can. I don't know how I'm going to do that yet, but I've still got a couple of days to make up a story to explain the truth. I'm going to try to blame everything on the cat.

Meanwhile, it's back to the liquor cabinet for me.

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by Acidman | Permalink | Bullshit(4)

holy bejus!

You may THINK you know somebody from their blog and they may manage to fool you when you meet them in person, but sometimes, deep, dark secrets remain hidden. I am shocked, appalled and stunned by what I found in Eric's house when I crawled in through the window walked through the front door.

I never knew that he was a collector of black velvet Elvis paintings, but he's got them hanging all over the place. That shit is bad enough, but what's he doing with THREE Michael Jackson posters in his bedroom? One of them is life-sized and has some suspicious-looking fingerprints all over the crotchital region. That's disgusting.

But even THAT isn't as disgusting as that blow-up doll in the rec room. That thing seems to have had something resembling Elmer's Glue-All spread in obscene places. I wouldn't touch that thing with a pair of surgical gloves. Now I realize what REALLY goes on during those Wednesday night get-togethers with his perverted friends.

Whoa-ho! The liquor cabinet isn't bad. He's got some good shit in here. I think I'll try some of THIS and some of THIS and some of THIS and....THUMP! zzzzzzzz.

Damn! This carpet smells like cat-piss. It served well for the power-nap I needed after raiding his liquor cabinet, but now I smell like pussy cat, and I don't like cats. I need to take a shower. I'm going to crawl off to the bathroom.

But hey! What's this? It looks like a pistol. I wonder if it's... KA-BLAM!!! Okay, it was loaded. Man, I'm sorry about the television. I kinda shot it by accident. I'm usually very careful with guns and all I was doing was... KA-BLAM!!!

Oh, shit. I did it again, but this time I spared the TV and took out the stereo. I thought I had this thing on safety... KA-BLAM!!! Oh, no. That one hit a velvet Elvis right in the crotch. Eric is gonna be pissed when he sees this. I need to put this gun down and leave it... KA-BLAM!!! Got-DAM! That thing has a hair-trigger on it.

I must have hit a water pipe that time, because there's a bad leak spraying out of the wall. No problem. I can fix it. I'll just knock a bigger hole in the wall and wrap the pipe with duct tape. Eric will never notice. I'll just move one of his Michael Jackson posters over to cover the hole.

I kinda got my shower fixing that leak in the pipe. It's still drizzling some, but it's not REALLY bad. I'll fix it right just as soon as a pay another visit to his liquor cabinet.

Damn! This guest-blogging is turning into more work than I expected.

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by Acidman | Permalink | Bullshit(13)

knock, knock!

I'm just checking to see if anybody's home.

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almost gone....

... I've just returned back from the Easter festivities my family enjoys, and I am stuffed... I've got ironing to do, and a bag to pack.... my flight to Chicago is all set... and I leave at a relatively civilized hour tomorrow morning... and roughly, the plan is to be ensconced in a local watering hole by early afternoon... I have been promised a "drinking tour" of Chicagoland by a fellow blogger... I can hardly wait, rubberneckers... the only drawback is that weather.com says it is 40 degrees up there.. and it was 80 here today.. still, I remain undaunted.... I shall just have to deal with it....

... but fear not, though... I am leaving you gentle ones in the more than capable hands of a blogger of infamous World renown.... so for the next three days, prepare for heavy seas...

.. I'll be back late Wednesday evening with tales to tell..

.. later, children...

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Pockets...

... as many of you know, I am a lover of simple pleasures.... scratching the itch, per se... Hell, hedonistic even.. a blue sky.. a singing bird.. a sunset and a smoke... a large Scotch in the evenings.. a freshly grilled steak.. basic, but vital stuff...

... however, I do have another side.. a side that is objectively OCD... (don't most bloggers?)... and I often find myself clinging to small, yet significant things... for instance.. I smoke non-filtered Camel cigarettes... usually, my shirts don't have pockets.. in combating the fact that the cigarette packets get smashed and crumpled while in jeans, long ago I bought an old antique cigarette case... made circa 1921... so, when I head out on the town, I fill it up.. it snugly holds ten cigarettes and keeps them from harm... but, here is the thing.. I have carried this case in my pocket... every single day.. for over 8 years... my Zippo is much the same... I was gifted it for being Best Man at my Cousin's wedding in 1992... I've never lost it... never damaged it.. and it is still in my pocket these 12 years later... although once engraved with my initials, they have long since been erased by the constant polishing received from my needy fingers.. it may be worn, but it is still with me..

... the same focus can be applied to many other trinkets I own... my pocket-knife... my challenge coin... my leather wallet... things that I have in my pockets on any given day... they are usually small, dear things.... quite often shiny... and most have a story... either of how I found them, or how/when/why they were given to me...

... you know... in a way, I recognize that some underlying need must be present... something driving me to latch onto these mementos... wanting me to stay grounded in where I came from.. where I am going... and where I have been... like an Indian with his medicine bag, I suppose... a life's collection of mobile memories...

... one thing is for sure, though... the coroner who eventually empties my pockets will never even begin to understand the importance of the objects he places in that plastic bag...

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by Eric | Permalink | Bullshit(8) | Psycho Rants
» Gut Rumbles links with: i know what he means
» Fistful of Fortnights links with: Linky Love For The Masses.

Behold...

... hot damn... Sadie bares all... well, almost...

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11 Years....

... last year, I wrote this story of where I was on this day in 1994... it still applies... 11 years may seem like a long time, but it isn't.. it feels like it has passed in the blink of an eye...

... yesterday, The Wife and I drove up to Maryville for an early dinner at the Lemon Grass... a small, Thai restaurant that serves large portions of rice & spicy meat... just as we were arriving, I had the pleasure of chatting with Sandy for a few minutes... we were pulling into the parking lot when my phone went off.. so, our conversation was cut short.. still, she had just enough time to give The Wife and I a few pointers on what to order in a good Thai eatery... thanks, Sandy...

... after our meal, we pulled into a gas station to fuel-up before the lightning rocketride home... I started the gas pumping, and moved around to clean the windshield... when I was finished, I moved around the side of the car towards the pump... The Wife, with a grin and a "thank you, Sir", rolled down her window and gave me a nickel... damn, people... Scots really are stingy...

... today, the Wife is working.... and I am going into town to buy some gifts for the crowd I am meeting in Chicago next week.... 11 years... it seems like one or two... Happy Anniversary, Dear... you are the best...

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by Eric | Permalink | Bullshit(15) | SWG Stories
» Tammi's World links with: Happy Anniversary

Happiness...

... fleeting, elusive, and chameleon-like... this beast called Happiness often hides in the least imagined places... I think I caught a glimpse a few minutes ago...

... standing in my quiet kitchen with the morning Sun slanting through the window, I dipped a fresh glazed Krispy Kreme into my coffee and took a bite... the clock in the living room chimed 9AM, and through the window a small group of geese honked from East to West towards the lake a few miles away..

... as I finished the remains of my doughnut, I refilled my coffee cup and wondered if I should put on any clothes at all today... I smiled at the very thought, and laughed out loud...

.. "naahhh..", I thought to myself... "maybe around noon..."

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Wild Woman...

... Daniel tells a good story, people... but this one is just plain frightening..

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My Morning...

... unfortunately, I have a highly sadistic morning ritual that I just can't seem to break... after I brew the my first pot of Colombian java, I turn on BBC America to get the news.. yeah, I know.. but hey, I have already acknowledged that it is a bad habit... and admitting you have a problem is the first step in rehabilitation... right?...

... anyway, this morning was the usual.. sitting in the living room listening to the British newscasters piss and moan about everything under the sun.... growling over my coffee about how much I would love to beat Jonathan Head with a lead pipe... when suddenly his head-jiggle, and whiny tone became even MORE head-jiggly and whiny toned... what was it that caused that piece of naval lint to get his knickers all in a twist?.. a terrorist attack?... a British political scandal?... evil America invading another country again?.... nope...

... Bobby fucking Fischer... what an ever-loving train wreck of an individual... who gives a shit about Bobby Fischer?... if I ever met him, I would shake his hand for beating the Russians at chess... get his autograph... and then commence to pummel his gray-bearded ass with anything I could get my hands on... the prick... and no, I am not talking about what he did in Yugoslavia... I am talking about what he said here a while back...

... but, I digress... back to the point.... old Mr. Head was falling all over himself worrying about the upcoming fate of Mr. Fischer, and how he has finally been allowed to crawl out of that Nipponese hoosegow.. heh heh.. so, Bobby Fischer is going to be Icelandic now, eh?.. good riddance, asshole... I hope he freezes to death and is eaten by rabid polar bears...

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Disgusting...

... whoa.. hopefully, most of you have finished your breakfast already...

"Officials said the fingertip was approximately 1 3-8-inches long and a half-inch piece of fingernail was also found. They believe it belongs to a woman because of the long, manicured nail. "

... damn.. I had Wendy's just the other day... tell me that munching down on someone's finger would not put you off chili for life... sheesh..

... hat tip to Loyal Reader Charlie for this grisly news story..

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X-files, revisited...

... attention, campers.. Satan is alive and well, and living quite happily as a "red-eared slider" in Indiana...

.. you really, really can't make this shit up...

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.. double-damn...

... as much as it pains me to do this, dear Kel at Special K seems to have jumped the proverbial ship... as such, much like the final act of a desperate man.. or the first act of Henry V... I must do my little juggling act, and try to get her back into the fold...

.. dearest Kel.. please come back... we're worried about you, girl..

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Question roundup...

.. ask and ye shall receive... I know I still have a few rounds of questions to get out to bloggers.. but so far, Sheilah and Guy S have already belly'd up..

.. I'll get around to the rest of you volunteers victims as soon as I can..

UPDATE: Sweet Christina has decided to play...

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Concussed...

... Acidman has posed a thought provoking - yet simple - question... "have you ever been knocked out"... most people who have lived life free-wheeling can answer that question with a resounding "HELL, yeah, of course I have"...

... most of the people I know have scars and stories... yes, yes I have been knocked out... and I've got quite a few interesting scars... the latest one is still quite fresh.. on my left forearm.. courtesy of a 6" Voyager... hey, accidents happen... when you are having fun and acting wild, they happen with ever increasing regularity.. but, that is a story for another day..

... thinking back, I have only been KO'd once... I was playing soccer in Scotland on a cold, rainy day... all of Company B were in attendance... 1st Platoon vs. 2nd Platoon... (with only 35 Marines on base, we were organized into two small Platoons)... for some reason, I had been designated as goalie that day... hey, it suited me right down to the ground... screw all that running... I'll just chill by the goal, and watch the action... well, that is what I thought anyway...

... we hadn't been playing very long.. maybe 5 minutes... when our CO, Major Tyson got the ball... he darted left and right, mesmerizing the collapsing Corporals... outrunning the sagging Sergeants... and in a flash, he was suddenly on the fringe of my domain... a feeling of NCO tenacity coursed through my veins... I ran forward, and with a mighty surge, leapt - head first - toward the bouncing ball... but just as my hands brushed the ball, Major Tyson's size 11 Nike spun it out of my hand... the ball went up... my airborne body kept going forward... and his Air Pegasus continued the planned trajectory... result?.. he kicked me in the head.. hard...

.. my body kept going forward, but my head was rapidly traveling in the opposite direction trying its best to embed itself between my shoulder blades... whiplash of the highest caliber, children..

... I lost consciousness... I was out for almost 5 minutes.. everyone had seen what had happened, and had rushed over to where I lay (quivering, apparently.. I was out like a light and don't remember thrashing around)... anyway, they were afraid to move me, so they just left my jittery, KO'd ass laying there in the wet grass till help arrived...

... I was just waking up as the corpsman from the tiny base hospital ran through the huddle of Marines surrounding me.. he felt of my neck.. asked me some questions... and then said that I needed to go to the infirmary for a check up... the funny thing is, as soon as my eyes opened, I felt fine.. 20 people were crouching over my crumpled body when I awoke... Major Tyson was leaning in close over me.. possibly imagining that he had killed me... but as my eyes focused, he said..

... "Sorry about that, Marine"...

... to which, I can still remember my answer... an answer that my Plt Commander still gives me Hell over via email...

... I simply brought my hand up to my forehead.. felt the wound where the end of his shoelace had cut a gash in my noggin... looked at our beloved Major... and said...

... "Goddamn, Sir"...

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by Eric | Permalink | Bullshit(11) | Military Stuff
» The Origin of Soul © links with: Molested by the wall...

Outed...

... Ala over at the Blonde Sagacity started a "Challenge Series"... she wanted former (and current) military readers of her site to send some photos... well, I jumped in... so, if you want to see some photos of me from back in the day, head over here...

... the one at the top of her post was taken on the summit of Mt. Adagdak..

... and for the not-so-faint of heart, three other photos of lil old me are buried in that post.. heh... enjoy, rubberneckers...

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Q & A...

... I suppose I can't complain.. after all, I volunteered over at The Smoking Toaster to take part in this.. so, in the spirit of better living through blogging, I shall 'fess up....

1. Two parter: Folks that regularly read your blog know that you spent quite a bit of time in the British Isles. In fact, you married a bonny native flower of Scotland. If this one is overstepping my interviewing bounds or personal privacy issues, make up something interesting and you can kick my ass when you see me.

a. How did you and the fair Wife meet? Better yet, how does a ridge runner from the woods of East Bumfuck, Tennessee shamelessly coerce ask a Scottish lass to marry him? Did it involve a K-Bar and a M-16?

... I met The Wife on my 7th day in Scotland.. a friend and I were drinking K Cider and shooting pool in a small, local bar called "Breakers"... I immediately started trying to work it, but my buddy Miles was quicker on the draw.. so, I ended up spending the night chatting up my future sister-in-law.. yeah, The Wife's Brother's squeeze.. heh heh...anyway, the second time I saw her - the next evening, actually, I was hammered from just completing a pub-crawl... even in that state, she gave me her number... a week later, I called her... as for how I asked her to marry me?... well, after we'd been dating about 6 months, I popped the question... she dissed me hard.. still, we kept dating... two months later, I asked her again... same response... so, I resigned myself that we'd eventually part.. we did keep dating though... anyway, about 9 months before I was to PCS to 2nd Radio Battalion, we were sitting in my car outside the movie theatre in Aberdeen.. she leaned over and whispered in my ear as I was starting the engine... "If you asked again, I'd say yes"... I was floored, but I stood my ground... I said.. "I love you, babe.. and I have asked you twice.. I am not going to ask you again.. but, I'll tell you this... if YOU ask ME... I'd say yes..."... and, of course, she did... and I did...

b. What was the reaction of the future in-laws when she brought you home and you opened your mouth and spoke for the first time? Did Mom clap her hand over her mouth, go all bug eyed like my Aunt Blanche did after she swallowed the green fly that fell in her Co-cola, and hyperventilate? Did you have to prove that you had indoor plumbing before you took her off the Isle? Did Dad threaten to make haggis out of your interloping ass?

... actually, I think they liked me pretty well straight off... heh, imagine that... they had had very little experience with meeting Americans, so I was a kind of curiosity... (I still am, by the way)... I have a feeling that they thought I was just a passing fancy.. had they known I was going to whisk their lil' darling away from the Old Country, they'd have probably run me off... by the time they realized what was going on, I had my position entrenched...

2. Why did you leave the Corps?

... this is a very hard question for me to answer.. I guess you could say that I had a change of priority once I was married.. I had always planned on re-enlisting.. I loved my job.. I loved the Corps.. I loved the guys I worked with... but, once I got hitched, I found myself distracted... and a distracted Marine is an ineffective Marine.. my priorities changed.. so, four months later, I out-processed instead of re-upping... I still miss it every day...

3. Where did you go to boot camp. Every marine has a boot camp story. Let's here the absolute best story you have from boot camp. No holds barred. Down and dirty.....well 'cept for any naked pillow fighting that might have transpired. I don't wanna hear about that. No sir.

.. I went to MCRD Parris Island, SC... Kilo Company, 3rd Battalion... platoon 3072 - May 25th - August 27th, 1990... do I have stories?.. you bet.. but naked pillow fighting?.. just go ahead and lay that crack pipe down, Bitterman.... those things only happen in San Diego.. heh... anyway, a few tales have already been blogged about... one that first comes to mind is here.. actually, I probably should tell more stories about those smiling, happy, carefree 90 days...

4. Gonna rip off a duplicate from the one's Spud gave me. You are now officially an unemployment statistic. What one thing would you love to do above all else for a living?

... interesting... I never thought of myself as an unemployment statistic, but I suppose you are right... so far, I am enjoying this little break quite a bit.. but as far as my dream job?.. wow.. I'd like to be the guy who does reviews of bars, concerts, and restaurants for Rolling Stone/Playboy/Hustler/GQ/Ladies Home Journal/I REALLY don't care.. just PAY me to go to bars, restaurants, and concerts...

5. Which was worse and why: your adjustment to life out of the Corps and being an expat in Scotland, or The Wife waking up one morning realizing she had just materialized on the set of "Deliverance," surrounded by hillbillies, ridge runners, and hilltoppers of all shapes and sizes.

.. leaving the Corps was tough... but luckily, I immediately fell into a job working for a fellow ex-pat, and that softened the blow... that, combined with having a local girl as my Wife, really made the transition easier.. plus, I had already been overseas for four years and was quite accustomed to always being on the move and in a strange place... so I had a slight advantage... however, the Wife waking up surrounded by strange accents and a different lifestyle has been a battle... after three years, she is mostly over the culture shock...

Furthermore as a subset of question 5, to wit:

a. Are there rednecks in Scotland? Not that I would expect to see, Clifford in Tuff Nutt overhauls, driving the rusted out Scout, and asking for a pouch of Red Man at the chemist. How about the Pogues, even though they are Irish? Would they be the stereotypical redneck of the British Isles?

... that all depends on your definition of rednecks... if you mean country-type farmers, then sure... if you mean guys who have an old Fiat up on blocks behind their council flat, then they exist too... but, for the most part rednecks are a true modifier of the social hierarchy.. every civilization, once it reaches a certain level of success, spawns a redneck strata... I am sure that somewhere in the middle of the Masai Mara, there is a tall warrior sniggering as Cletusuthu drags his impala towards the family abode...

... "just LOOK at Cletusuthu!.. sheesh, he is going feed his family IMPALA!.. whatta redneck.. doesn't he wonder why we raise CATTLE?!?"..

... rednecks are everywhere, Bitterman... everywhere...

.. anyway, in the spirit of this meme, drop me a line if you would like to participate... send me an email, or leave a comment, and I will prepare five fresh'n'tasty questions for you to answer on your blog...

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by Eric | Permalink | Bullshit(10) | Psycho Rants
» Boudicca's Voice links with: Random Thoughts on My Future

Mysterious Nature...

... I found this article extremely interesting, and it started me thinking... at first, I thought.. you GO Beetles.. I mean, it's good to see a fellow creature not letting their handicap drag them down... but then, it dawned on me... just how many bugs did those scientists have to slice open before they found a "pattern"..

Some beetles are born with an imbalance rare in nature - they only have one testicle.

A new study found that three major groups of beetles, all of the carabid family, lack the usual second testicle. While the beetles get along fine without it, they are violating a major rule in animal biology - bilateral symmetry, where each half of the body mirrors its opposite.

"We've got two lungs, two kidneys, and females and males have paired gonads," said Kipling Will, insect biologist at the University of California, Berkley. "Even our brain has two hemispheres."

Evolution favors bilateral symmetry in animals, Kipling says, "so when we see that the rule is violated, as in the case with these beetles, it gets our attention."

... indeed... life's symmetry and insect privates... you never know what you're going to find here at SWG...

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an evening at home..

... I was up early this morning to see the dawn... a clear, bright blue sky was my reward.... I've just been sitting here having my morning coffee and playing a little guitar... the finger picking still isn't getting much better... I've been trying to play Hotel California, but the alternating bass is still kicking my tail... discipline hasn't been my strongest point lately... I think I should just stick to rhythm..

... anyway, last night I grilled three pounds of boneless pork ribs with a Jamaican style marinade.. pretty damn tasty, if I do say so myself... I cooked them slowly on the grill as the sun went down.. I had the garage door up, and James Taylor was coming out of the stereo beautifully... I was singing along with a Scotch in my hand just as my Mother arrived... she seems to have a second-sense about when I will be grilling ribs... so, she came on in and had dinner with us... after the meal, I kicked back and watched Buddy Guy get inducted into the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame on VH1.. sandwiched between B.B. King and Eric Clapton... awesome stuff, and about damn time...

... Mr. King will be playing the Tennessee Theatre in May... and, yes.. yes, children... I have tickets...

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Vermin...

... what is vermin?... mice are vermin, right?.. and yet, some people keep them as pets... strange, that... so, at what point does a vermin-class creature become a pet... or indeed, a pet-class animal become vermin?...

... Dax has just written about disposing of a luckless creature with the heel of his boot... I can relate.. you see, I understand what he is talking about... he had nothing in particular against that mouse... except that it was in the wrong place... as a hunter, he understands nature.. Hell, all of us hunters are conservationists at heart... but the whole idea of loving nature seems to be governed by two things - time and place...

... a mouse in a field = useful in nature, lunch for owls and hawks, and perfectly fine in my view....

... a mouse in my house = on the slippery slope of life, and it will receive the smackdown at my earliest possible convenience...

... what the Hell am I talking about?... well, I have a dilemma... a crafty dilemma in the shape of a large, gray and white tomcat... and after last night's antics, he has just been classified as vermin... as soon as I get a chance, Mr. Graycat will be going the way of Dax's mouse... sure, I know you may think I am being coldhearted, but frankly, I don't care...

... ok, I guess that an explanation is needed... fine... here goes... Graycat has no collar.. he is feral.. he scares Fred and Ginger (Graycat still has his nads, whereas Fred and Ginger are nutless pussies)... he eats their the food I buy for them... and last night, when I turned on the light in the garage, Graycat was pissing on my gun safe...

... enough is enough, people... Graycat has stolen his last kibble.. and marked his territory one too many times... the only tomcat that lives here is me...

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a plug for Ed..

... once again I am here to bring you the real news that you need to know... heh, I have another scoop... and remember, children, you heard it here first...

... the incredible Ed Haynes has just released a new album... mysteriously entitled "Snacking with a Vengeance"... it includes such wonderfully thought-provoking tracks as "I Love you so much - I hate myself"... simply marvelous... act now, brothers and sisters, while supplies last...

.. I first became addicted to Ed's music while overseas in 1990... his debut album, "Ed Haynes sings Ed Haynes" hooked me, and it remains a classic to this day... with hits such as "I Want to Kill Everybody", and "One Brief Liaison with a Lady of the Afternoon"... the album totally rocked.. but sadly, it is out of print now... still, us diehard Ed fans live in hope that some day it will be re-released on CD..

... anyway, get on over and get yourself a copy of Ed's latest... remember, you heard it here first...

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Trophies..

... in the course of returning the blogroom to some semblance of cleanliness yesterday, I found one of my old tee-shirts crumpled in a heap on the couch... I was given that puppy when I completed the MCIWS course many moons ago.. what a trip... gold on black... admittedly, not the most creative of logos... but still, it is mine, and I earned it... and seeing as I will be banned from computer use for the rest of the day due to gardening activities (read that as slave labor), I figured I'd share a photo with you rubberneckers..

survival_small.jpg

.. here's a better view... and yeah, Jimbo.. that's your hat up there... heh..

... ahhh... here's to the sunny slopes of long ago.. trophies come in all shapes and sizes, I guess...

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For the Record...

.. ok.. you see that look on ole Marty's face over on my sidebar?.. just so you know, I get that very same look every time I read comments left here... sweet Lord, rubberneckers... damn, if you guys are not entertaining... cudos to you all.. you guys and gals are incredible....

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Wildlife...

... I have spent most of the day cleaning this filthy blogroom... you would not believe some of the stuff I have found under all the unopened mail littering this place.. my giant, plastic Gila monster, for instance.. he was found lurking beneath an unread copy of Military History magazine... I'd been looking for him everywhere... oh, and my collection of Ogden Nash was hidden by 150 unopened credit card applications... yeah, this place needed a shoveling.. not really dirty.. just cluttered all to Hell..

... anyway, having gotten all the mail, newspapers, and magazines off the floor, I just sat down to read ole Nashy.. heh... the first page I turned to held The Wombat... bear witness, children...

Ogden Nash, 1935

The Wombat

The wombat lives across the seas,
Among the far Antipodes.
He may exist on nuts and berries,
Or then again, on missionaries;
His distant habitat precludes
Conclusive knowledge of his moods.
But I would not engage a wombat
In any form of mortal combat.

.. me neither...

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I was wrong...

... I put a post up this morning... a tiny little thing that linked to an article from Ananova.. in the article, the "average size" of the Taiwanese penis was discussed... I immediately threw up a unceremonious "BWHAHAHAHAHAHAH" post in regards to the purported average being 4.2 inches...

... after reflecting over the post for a while, I removed it... why, rubberneckers?... well, in these troubled times we live in, it seemed somehow wrong to be making fun of allied peckers... after all, our Taiwanese friends are standing tall before the Man right now... geopolitical dice are being shaken as I write this, and the Chinese are on a roll... the last thing the Taiwanese need is for some Hillbilly to be making fun of their wieners...

... so, I took the post down.. despite the reported fact that they have a teensy package, I have a feeling they have enormous balls..

... to our allies, I am sorry.... I will save the needle dick jokes for Kim Jong-il and Hu Jintao...

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by Eric | Permalink | Bullshit(14) | Psycho Rants
» Fistful of Fortnights links with: He Pissed Off The Chinese Again.

Last Night's Results...

.. last evening's Social Club gathering ended up being a very subdued affair... of course, it didn't begin that way... no, of course not.. it began like a house-on-fire... see, I was beaten sorely in my first two games.. and as they say in those old baseball recordings, "the crowd went wild".. cheers, jeers, questions of my manhood & parentage... oh yes, they were happy little campers in having beaten me...

... why the losses?... I have two great excuses, and I shall use them now.. I had not yet been given sufficient time to get my buzz on, AND I was hungry... so, I retired to the kitchen when the cute pizza delivery girl arrived, and slammed a few slices down while chugging my second Scotch of the night... after that, people, it was on....

.. I held the table for the remainder of play.. two more hours, undefeated.. heh.. I shut those bastards up hushed the crowd...

NOTE... this is not the norm.. usually, the thrashing I get is almost equal to the amount of thrashing I hand out.. last night was a fluke.. but, by God, it felt good...

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Creative Juices...

... now that I am planning on continuing my Man O'Leisure routine for a few more weeks, I really, REALLY need to buy this guy's book...


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Ponder this...

"What? No, no no no no. Fire is good. Fire is good, yes. Fire is our friend, yes. Let me show you, let me show you. You see, you see, yeah. Do you have your cigar? Let me see, let me see. Alright. Now now now. Now, just hold it right there. Now, don't inhale until the tip glows."

"RAARRRR!!"

"Wait, wait. Where are you going? I was going to make espresso. "

.. I have wandered down both sides of that path.. yes, yes I have...

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Options...

... during one hot and humid evening back in the Summer, the members of the Social Club held a coup d'etat of sorts... yes, hard to believe, but they did it.. they rebelled against my musical taste... openly, vigorously, and loud enough that my neighbor ceased unloading groceries across the street to watch and listen... the troglodytes, it seemed, had had enough of Warren Zevon... it was truly a sad sight to see fully grown men crying, "we ALWAYS listen to that!.. don't you have anything ELSE?"...

... so, being at an impasse, I suggested that the ungrateful bastards bring some of their OWN music over... well, they did... Hell, I even went out the next week and bought about 20 CDs to add to the collection...

... for the following two Wednesday nights, we listened to The Cure, Hendrix, Cake, The Doobie Brothers, Bob Marley, and Lou Reed.. from the sublime, to the ridiculous, and all the way back again... some music is just is not meant to be played while shooting pool...

... on the third Wednesday, the "Genius" album by Zevon was played again.. followed by "Texas Flood" by SRV... followed by "Life'll Kill Ya" by Zevon... and, to this day, those three albums are evening staples... we may start out with The Doors, Willie Nelson, Fats Waller, or Butch Thompson, but we always return to the path of righteousness, and those three albums are played.. always..

... the rest of the CDs we bought as a result of the little rebellion?... never listened to... strange, that... those bastards screamed for the ability to choose from a larger menu, and once I bought the smorgasbord, they decided to hang on to every day's cheese sticks... shit, plead for diversity and choice, and never exercise it.. I'm not sure, but I think that a life-lesson might be hidden in the contents of that CD case in my garage...

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Pocahontas...

... one of my favorite albums is Rust Never Sleeps, by Neil Young... there is wisdom there, friends... every song weaves a tapestry of visuals... last night, I was blissfully singing along to "Pocahontas", when I came to a sudden realization...

.. Neil Young is totally insane.. certifiable... behold, rubberneckers.. near the end of a hippie song about Whites murdering Indians, old Neilly just flips out...

I wish a was a trapper
I would give thousand pelts
To sleep with pocahontas
And find out how she felt
In the mornin' on the fields of green
In the homeland we've never seen.

And maybe Marlon Brando
Will be there by the fire
We'll sit and talk of hollywood
And the good things there for hire
And the astrodome and the first tepee
Marlon Brando, Pocahontas and me
Marlon Brando, Pocahontas and me
Pocahontas.

.. Marlon Brando?.. what ape-swinging tangent did that thought arrive from?...

.. certifiable, people.. word... but still, it is a kick-ass album...

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on Brothels...

... a few days ago, the Wife received a phone call from her sainted Father... he's just fresh back from a six-week trip across Australia from east-to-west... topped off with a week of sun'n'fun in Kuala Lumpur.. heh.. him and two mates road-tripping across the Nullabor Desert Plain... and then throwing down in Malaysia.. some guys have all the luck... anyway, he ended up chatting with her for almost two hours..

... when they were finished, she brought the phone through to the blogroom..

... "Eric", says he, "us guys thought of you when we got to Kalgoorlie"

... "You did, huh?... cool.. is that where they dig for opals?"...

... "nope, that's the other place.. Kalgoorlie had a gold strike.. but, that's not what I'm wanting to tell you... Kalgoorlie is the only place in Australia where brothels are legal.. so, we naturally went for a tour of a really nice one"..

... picking my jaw up off the floor, I mumbled... "you've gotta be shitting me"...

... "heh.. no way, not at all.. they had an Orgy Room all decked out Romanesque... a French Revolution Room... and even one room that just had a parked car in it.."...

... beginning to realize that he is telling the truth, I start to come around... "DAMN, man.. how were the women?.. on a scale of 1 to 10?"..

... ".. heh heh... probably about 8's.. but still, not too shabby for the middle of a bloody desert"..

... "wait just a minute... they REALLY had a whole car in a room?"...

... "aye.. they sure did.... I guess some of their patrons like the back seats... well, anyway, nice talking to you, Eric.. like I said, we all thought of you when we were taking the tour.. have a good night"..

... "alright.. ok, then... glad you had a good trip... all the best.. bye...."..

... the whole thing only lasted about 2 minutes... 2 hours with the Wife, and 2 minutes with me.. the Wife was standing here listening as I hung up the phone... she looked me up and down, and said... "HE never told ME he went to a BROTHEL!"....

... I let out a nervous laugh, handed her the phone, and shrugged my shoulders.. I mean, really.. what was I supposed to say?.. I have a feeling that no matter what I said, I would have lost that battle... besides, why did he want to tell ME that he went on a tour of a brothel?... I mean, was it just me, or was that conversation just plain whacked?... still, it is nice to know I crossed their minds while they were traveling.. heh...

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The Conclusion...

... Christina's gamble has paid off yet again.. fine, fine stuff.. each blogger contributed time, effort, and skill... and created a truly worthy tale...

Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six

... we here at SWG LOVE us some noir...

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I was RIGHT

.. I can spot a fellow blogger at 20 paces, people.. that's right, I have just received an email from The Lizardman, and indeed, he has a blog...

... bloggers friggin' rule..

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Visiting...

... if you want to know a place, you have to talk to the locals... tourists are just passing rubberneckers.. they breeze in with some brochures, spend some cash, and then dash back to their normal lives with a sunburn and a hangover.. thinking they have seen the City... they are 100% wrong...

... I am just back in from visiting with friends in Savannah, and I have to tell you.. their is no finer way to get to know a Great Southern City than by hanging with a crew of locals... Acidman, Catfish, Recondo32, Georgia, and Velociman.. children, between those guys, they know everything there is to know about that mysterious, moss-covered city... political bosses, corruption, streaking downtown, The Studebaker, coastal island-hopping, or cooking oysters on a car hood... those boys rock... they make this hillbilly see them & their city in a light that you don't get from brochures..

... as Key and I were standing in that graveyard, I could not help but notice the beauty of the place... tucked into a residential corner of a great city - a quiet, peaceful place... with trees spaced occasionally.. Spanish moss, mockingbirds, and sunlight... I saw a side of the real Savannah yesterday morning...

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by Eric | Permalink | Bullshit(7) | SWG Stories
» Key Issues links with: Away From My Desk

By Request...

... for Stevie... some Stevie...

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by Eric | Permalink | Bullshit(2) | Music
» caughtintheXfire links with: For Rob....

Trouble...

... drinking coffee in the blogroom this morning, I heard the sound of the television being turned on in the living room... I knew the movie in an instant.. broken dialogue.. music...

... the show was two minutes from being over... and in my opinion, the best two minutes of cinema ever filmed... a summation of a movie.... a life... an outlook... boiled down to two minutes...

... a conversation between two hermits... high on a mountain in the snow... eating rabbit from a spit... and wondering what month of the year it is...

... "you've come far, pilgrim"..

... "it feels like far"..

... "t'were it worth the trouble?"

... "eh?.. what trouble?"...

.... may I never forget that as long as I live...

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Memories...

... on the 19th of May, my Father will have been dead five years... I was in the room with him when he died, and I closed his eyes... losing him was the single most painful thing to have happened in my life so far... I still miss him... every single day... but one thing remains stuck in my mind... he was in pain, and he was suffering... the pain that I felt when he died was somehow overshadowed with a knowledge that the torments of the man I loved were finally over... no matter how much I wanted him to stay, he was better off being allowed to slip into the hereafter... as hard as it sounds, sometimes, when you love someone you need to set them free...

... Rob, you and your family are in our thoughts.. my sincere condolences, friend...

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Afghan Warrior, indeed...

... via Annika, I just heard that Freedom is ringing in a new corner of the blogosphere... this is truly awesome...

... best of luck, Waheed...

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Friday Booze Blog...

.. Moxie calls, and, well, we belly-up...

... this month, in honor of St. Paddy's Day, I give you the Green Fairy...

absente_small.jpg

... here's a better view, should you be so inclined..

"Got tight last night on absinthe and did knife tricks. Great success shooting the knife into the piano. The woodworms are so bad and eat hell out of all furniture that you can always claim the woodworms did it."

- Ernest Hemingway

... boy, does THAT sound familiar... heh..

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Drunken Wisdom...

.. heh heh... T1G gave Harvey and I the keys to his place... so far, we haven't made too much of a mess, but I think that's about to change..

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Equality....

.. once again, it is my pleasure to bring you the news that no one else does..

The way suicidegirls.com tapped into the retro/punk/goth aesthetic to create its version of alterna-porn, Sweet Action embraces messy, artistic guys who have no metrosexual tendencies whatsoever and the girls who dig them. And the girls (photographers, writers, artists) clearly feel comfortable objectifying their models but retain a sense of "Oh my God! He got naked for us!" giddiness. In an interview with salon.com, Micole said, "We respect the guys that we're lusting after."

... heh... we have come full circle, children...

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.. that kid...

... you know, I have been thinking a little more about that kid on the balcony last night... just imagine, he'll be telling that story for the rest of his life...

... I wonder if the experience of being told to practice by Buddy Guy will spur him on?... make him have a renewed desire to dive into music?... that kid was touched by the gentle hand of greatness, and given words of support.. how many of our entertainers, writers, and heroes became the people we love and admire because, back when they were just sprouts, they were touched by greatness?...

.. Buddy Guy may never know the impact his actions last night will have.. but it sure was incredible to watch..

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An Evening Out...

.... the old man rocked Knoxville, and that is a fact... he is a true old-school entertainer.. and it is impossible for me to praise Buddy Guy too much... at 70 years of age, you would never know it... BB King sits in a chair on stage while he plays... Buddy wanders through the audience from the balcony... to the back row.. to the foyer... imagine the shock of the guys standing in line at the bar when Buddy Guy ambles over... heh... he roamed, children... it was awesome... he is pure energy...

theatre_bg.jpg

... at one point, on the balcony, he took off his guitar and handed it to a little blue-eyed, blonde boy... "you play guitar?... well PLAY it, son!", he laughed... and he handed his guitar to the kid... I couldn't believe my eyes... with one almighty strum, the kid let it roll.. the worst E chord in the history of electric guitar... the crowd went wild... laughing and smiling, Buddy took the guitar back, and strapped it on... "Keep practicing kid!"... holy shit.. can you even imagine?!?... I guarantee you kid went home and practiced last night...

... the opening band was alright... they had a lead guitarist playing a sunburst Les Paul who looked exactly like Uncle Fester... but, damn, he could play.. the drunk guy who sat behind me kept yelling... "PLAY it, Fat Boy!!"... and "Work it, Fester!"... and Fester did...

... Calhoun's catered the event, and pulled pork sandwiches, baked beans, and cole slaw was available in the foyer next to the bar.. what better food can you think of to go with the blues?... it went down well with a couple of Killian's... in short, a wonderful time was had by all... I highly recommend a visit to the Tennessee Theatre if you get the chance.. the place is decked out to the nines... the restoration performed a miracle, and the place is a work of art.. you really have to see it to believe it...

... on the downside, I feel I have to complain about something... well... maybe complain is too strong of a word.. perhaps disappointment is better.. for one, Buddy didn't do an encore.... he also did not play "Mary had a little Lamb".. one of my all-time favorites... other than that, I got my 40 bucks worth out of the deal... oh, and before I forget, the bar at the Tennessee Theatre only has two brands of Scotch, and both leave a bit to be desired... next time, I'm taking a hip flask...

theatre1.jpg

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Escapism.. it's beautiful..

.. well, I'm off for an evening in Knoxville.. eating pulled-pork sandwiches, listening to some Chicago electric blues, and enjoying a few drinks in a newly renovated Tennessee Theatre..

.. I tried to find a Buddy Guy song for you rubberneckers, but all of the ones I had were on cassette.. so, you'll just have to make due with SRV playing a song written by Buddy...

.. enjoy, children... I'll give you the scoop on the concert in the morning...

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Books..

... Uptown Girl has passed on the latest Meme to yours truly... so, let's give it a go..

You're stuck inside Fahrenheit 451, which book do you want to be? .. this is a tough one... probably "Cat in the Hat".. I know most of it by heart already..

Have you ever had a crush on a fictional character? ... nope.. sorry.. at least, not that I can think of..

The last book you bought is: "Collected Short Stories of William Faulkner", The Modern Library - 1993

The last book you read: "Candy is Dandy - The Best of Ogden Nash"

What are you currently reading? ... babe, I am unemployed... I have a different book open in every room of the house...

Five books you would take to a deserted island.
"The Complete Robert Service"
"The Best of Ogden Nash"
"MYTHOLOGY - Myths, Legends, and Fantasies"
"The Witching Hour" by Anne Rice
... and a really, really good survival/cook book...

Who are you going to pass this stick to (3 persons) and why?
... Redneck... because he hit me with a screamin' meme last time..
... Sandy.. because she just is..
... and Boudicca... because I am nosy...

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by Eric | Permalink | Bullshit(4) | Psycho Rants
» Boudicca's Voice links with: Of All the Luck
» RedNeck Ramblings links with: Oh, I been Meme'd again... I been Memed again.
» Miasmatic Review links with: I must be a Son of a Witch...
» Snugg Harbor links with: Book 'em Danno!
» basil's blog links with: Book 'Em, Dan-O!
» aTypical Joe: A gay New Yorker living in the rural south. links with: I'm it!

Thought of the Day..

... just imagine being the cop who pulled the gag out of this woman's mouth...

... and Europeans think Americans are weird...

... pot, meet kettle...

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by Eric | Permalink | Bullshit(7) | Psycho Rants
» Uptown Girl links with: Passing the Stick

The Lizardman..

.. you know, I bet this guy has a blog somewhere... I mean, he just has that blogger look in his eyes... Hell, we should invite him to the Wreckyll in Jekyll... I bet we'd get along famously after a few belts of shine... besides, you want another selling point?.. just imagine him and the Mutant frolicking together on the beach...

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Quotes of the Day...

... today, our wonderful quotes come from Jacksonville's Florida Times-Union..

"We argue that government simply has no business generating a dress code for adults," said Edinger, who's based in Gainesville.

... I could not agree more... oh but, wait.. it continues...

"We have yet to see a case that gives the right to see the bottom half of breasts while drinking alcohol," she said.

... something needs to be done about this immediately... I am all for the "right" to see the bottom half of breasts while drinking alcohol... so rouse yourselves, rubberneckers!!.. to arms!!.. first Jacksonville, then the WORLD!..

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Extremists?...

.. are Marines America's Extremists???.. you decide...

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by Eric | Permalink | Bullshit(5) | Military Stuff
» Technicalities links with: Here's a Few Fun Things

Semper Gumby...

... of note to a very few readers, the weekly drinking party meeting of the Eagle Glen Social Club has just been rescheduled from Wednesday to Thursday Tuesday.. why?.. because I have better things to do than eat pizza and play pool with you retards... I'm headed to Knoxville for an afternoon of blues and beer... heh.. unemployment sucks?.. indeed..

... you see, gentle rubberneckers, unlike a lot of organizations, we staunch Social Club members are quite flexible in the timing of our festivities... we can party anywhere, anytime.. it's just how we're built.. and as such, spontaneous bouts of binge-drinking often occur at the slightest provocation...

... that said, Thursday Tuesday will do nicely... besides, I just heard Buddy Guy is going to be in town on Wednesday.. and I just got front row seats... so, screw you guys... come over Thursday Tuesday instead..

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Advice...

.. sooner or later, I am going to start looking for a new job.. having thought about that, I have a question...

.. do I, or do I not tell my possible employers that I have a blog?.. after all, SWG isn't that big of a fish, and I don't really stir up the shit-pot over issues here... but still, should I confess during my interview that I am, indeed, The Straight White Guy?...

... should I begin to try to make this doggie anonymous?.. take down my photo.. start going by SWG, or Doofus, or Big Daddy, or something... and hide the "Eric"?...

... and if I told an employer about SWG, what would they do?...

... Acidman and Florida Bill are all over it, but this conundrum is real for me... so, what do you think?...

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Just a thought...

... the other day, I posted about my way of target practicing... some people thought that I should be firing from a shorter distance...which, of course, is fair enough... I shoot at various distances as the mood strikes me... moving targets, multiple targets, combat reloading.. all good ideas... however, one thing did leap into my mind.. and that is the very nature of close combat... fast, brutal, and engaging...

... for instance, it occurred to me that if an assailant was within two or three feet of me and attempted to draw a pistol, I would not draw mine... instead, I would just use my knife... at such close quarters, I would not feel comfortable trying to draw, aim, and fire my weapon.. besides, I can get to my Cold Steel a lot faster... strange, huh?..

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by Eric | Permalink | Bullshit(4) | Psycho Rants
» Bad Bad Juju links with: Cold Steel

Inside the Blogroom...

... Velociman has Kunstler... I have Warr... blogroom art with a Confederate flourish... what kind of decoration adorns your blogroom walls?...

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by Eric | Permalink | Bullshit(5) | Psycho Rants
» On the Patio links with: On My Wall

Practice...

... I spent yesterday morning shooting with my Mother... and let me tell you, nothing says "family values" like practicing your Mozambique with your relatives... in these days of criminals wearing body armor, you can never be too prepared...

double_tap_small.jpg

... click here for the giganto version..

... anyway, two schools of thought exist... where do you place your third shot?...the high shot to the head, or the low shot to the pelvis... I like to practice both... here is the result of four magazines worth of "high" practice with my new .45.. two to the chest, and one in the noggin...

... the target was at 25 feet... the three shots were fired as I approached it.. the "head shot" was administered at about 15 feet.. if you are going to practice, try to make it as real as possible... work in movement over uneven ground.. or a moving target... it's a lot more fun than just plinking, and it is useful training... make sure you get your rhythm right, too... bambam... BAM..

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Battered...

.. once upon a time, I writ about my Wife's first reaction to seeing a genuine Tennessee opossum up close and personal... it scared the HELL out of her... today though, it seems she has bloomed....

... this morning, I was told a tale of true weirdness bravery... you see, a battle took place last night around midnight... I, saintly, of course, was well into my bed and missed the action.. so, what you are about to here are the words of the only eye-witness.... the story of a drunken Scottish lass conquering a mighty possum...

.. evidently, the poor beast entered our garage and scared the cats onto the pool table.... from that vantage, they proceeded to watch the errant possum scarf their dinner, defecate in their "comfort noodles", and hump their play toys... when the Wife heard a scratching on the door (as the cats are wont to do), she assumed her darlings wanted some luvin.... so, she flicked on the light and cooed in her Scottish lilt... she got nothing.... just more scratching...

... upon opening the door, a fat, dirty, and totally shocked possum sat licking it's balls.. and then, it casually looked up...

... what happened next is the killer.... normally, the Wife would have freaked out, screamed, and slammed the door... this was not the case last night.. last night, she kicked the bastard... the possum roused itself from the nut licking, and ambled off the stairs (possums can't move that quick, and a loping stagger is about the best they can muster).. anyway, it ducked underneath the stairs and refused to budge... the Wife, feeling her oats on a fine Merlot, began by yelling.... which escalated into assaulting the poor varmint with "Orange Clean".. yes, she squirted that shit into the poor, hissing beast's eyes... then, onto more violent outbursts... poking, jabbing, and whacking the vile creature with then end of a broom.. when this didn't work, her addled mind came up with a cunning plan... she'd freeze the guy out... dashing to the refrigerator, she reappeared with a large tray of ice... which she threw at the possum.. (yeah, I thought that bit was extraordinarily strange too)... so, there you have the scene.. a possum.. drooling, hissing, and blinded by a household cleaner.. punched, prodded, and thumped by a broom handle... and then covered in ice cubes...

... good God, children... my house is one strange, strange place...

.. eventually, she was victorious.. once the possum's eyes quit watering and it could see again, it left of its own accord.. I doubt it will come back.. however, I do see in this story a portent of things to come... I have seen the dark side, rubberneckers... I just hope that Orange Clean doesn't burn as much as I imagine...

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by Eric | Permalink | Bullshit(18) | Drinking
» Gut Rumbles links with: i'd have shot the bastard

Gun Street Girl..

.. for no apparent reason, and simply because I can, this song is for Queenie... I have a feeling she shares my addiction admiration of Mr. Waits... plus, the imagery in the song is awesome...

"bought a second-hand Nova from a Cuban-Chinese
dyed his hair in the bathroom of a Texaco
with a pawnshop radio - quarter past four
and he left Waukegan at the slammin' of a door"

.. besides, you have to admit... from the tales Queenie tells, one could almost imagine that she was, indeed, a Gun Street Girl...

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Everyone loves tests...

.. validation, children... it's all about the validation... I've seen this test all over the place... so, I finally took it.. English Genius??!!.. crazy assed test... still, I didn't do too badly for a guy who never punctuates...

English Genius

You scored 100% Beginner, 100% Intermediate, 93% Advanced, and 77% Expert!

You did so extremely well, even I can't find a word to describe your excellence! You have the uncommon intelligence necessary to understand things that most people don't. You have an extensive vocabulary, and you're not afraid to use it properly! Way to go!

Thank you so much for taking my test. I hope you enjoyed it!

.. now I am off to town in search of beer and Italian food...

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New Music...

.. some days, I wake up with a renewed faith in humanity... I pour myself a cup of coffee, light a smoke, and begin the morning's reading... then I find something like this.. at which point, I sit down my cup, snub out my cigarette, and go back to bed...

... people are just nuts...

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Guess the Author...

... in the finest spirit of theft, I offer you this humble meme... anyone know the author?...

Instructions:
1. Grab the nearest book.
2. Open the book to page 123.
3. Find the fifth sentence.
4. Post the text of the next 3 sentences on your blog along with these instructions.
5. Don't you dare dig for that "cool" or "intellectual" book in your closet! I know you were thinking about it! Just pick up whatever is closest.

"In the early afternoon, from the top of a tree, the Negro looked down into the plantation. He could see Issetibbeha's body in the hammock between the two trees where the horses and the dog were tethered, and the concourse about the steamboat was filled with wagons and horses and mules, with carts and saddle-horses, while in bright clumps the women and the smaller children and the old men squatted about the long trench where the smoke from the barbecuing meat blew slow and thick. The men and the big boys would all be down there in the creek bottom behind him, on the trail, their Sunday clothes rolled carefully up and wedged into tree crotches."

.. damnation.. now THOSE are three sentences...

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by Eric | Permalink | Bullshit(4) | Psycho Rants
» Shadowscope links with: Guess the Author
» RedNeck Ramblings links with: Yall will never guess this author
» Gut Rumbles links with: okay...
» Bad Bad Juju links with: THE POWER OF THE SHELL
» Moogies World links with: Guess the Author
» Tammi's World links with: A Good Book

Community...

... once upon a time, I wrote a post about my little Brother, Joshua.. I mentioned how tough he was... and how proud I was of him... cancer had just been cut out of one lung, and the operation for his other side would have to wait for the first wound to heal... we both knew it was the beginning of a rough path... a path he is still wandering down...

... sitting at my desk, re-reading the post, I received a comment to it... it was from Jack, and I wept as I read it... my Wife heard me and came through... she read the post and the comment while sitting on the arm of my blogchair... when she finished, she looked down at me and smiled.. stroked my hair, and went back through into the living room... my blog was my confessional, and she knew that...

... Christina once asked me why I blog... at the time, I refused to answer.. but some bloggers already know my answer to that question...

... right now, Rob's Mother is in dire straits... I wish peace for her and Rob from the very bottom of my heart...

... I will not tell you why I blog... why I keep this infantile collection of jokes and stories going... but I will tell you that the friendships I have made here are valued more than I can possibly describe...

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Warped...

... this is just wrong... I wonder if Smallholder is aware of this?...

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Thought of the Day..

"Let me fall out of the window with confetti in my hair
Deal out jacks or better on a blanket by the stairs
I'll tell you all my secrets, but I lie about my past
So send me off to bed forever more"

Tom Waits, 1985

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Bonding...

... this afternoon, I took my Cougar out for a wee test drive... she is one sweet ride, too.... I had my gunsmith grind down the spring on her action... she was a bit stiff out of the box... now she's got it right...

thursday_small.jpg

.. here's a better view...

... we are bonding, children... and it is a beautiful, beautiful thing...

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Tobacco Hornworm...

... whilst reminiscing about the evil tortures of the tobacco patch, a loyal reader mentioned the lowly muncher of the crop... the Tobacco Hornworm.. so, being in a sharing and still hung over mood, I thought I would shed some light on the subject...

.. according to the Wikipedia, we have the following information...

"Tobacco hornworms (Manduca sexta) are moths of the Sphingidae family common throughout the American continent. The caterpillar feeds on tobacco or tomato leaves (Solanaceae) and has mechanisms for selectively sequestering and secreting the neuro-toxic nicotine present in tobacco.

The tobacco hornworm is used in a variety of bio-medical and biological scientific experiments. It can be easily raised on a wheat-germ based diet. The larva is large and thus relatively easy to dissect and isolate organs from."

... used in a variety of scientific experiments?.. wow... I never knew that.. the only experiments I ever thought they were useful for was seeing what kind of artwork you could create by throwing them against the side of the barn... word, children... they splat like no other beastie... and they are huge..

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a Strange Tale..

... in between insults, curses, and belly laughs, conversation rambled towards my upcoming visit to Chicago... I've got to admit, I am pretty stoked with the idea of a quick getaway to a new town I haven't explored yet... I've only been to Chicago once, and I stayed in the outlying neighborhoods... a short tale of which I recounted here... (just scroll down to the post entitled "Theme of the week - Drinking")

... anyway, in the course of babbling last night, Cousin B chimed in with a cryptic warning...

... "Whatever you do, don't go to a bar called Coyote Ugly"

.. there was silence in the garage...

... he continued, "a friend of mine went up there a while back... when he walked into the place, women were dancing on the bar... well, he ambled over and ordered a beer from the bartender... and just as he was handed his drink, one of the women dancing above him slipped a dogs choke-chain over his head, and leaned back... strangling him, and pulling him nearly over the bar.. all of a sudden, another woman comes up behind him and starts flailing him with a belt, or whip, or something..."

.. shocked and awe'd by this story, we normally rambunctious group of lads just stood there, jaws agape and minds whirling...

... "evidently, this is a normal thing for the bar... guys get off on it.. but my buddy?... he was pissed.. after the first whack on the ass, he began drawing the line in.. bringing the chick holding the strangling-line to within punching distance.. see, he couldn't turn around to face his assailant until he had worked himself loose from the strangling lady... well, he almost had her within range when the bouncer grabbed his arm.. boy, was he mad.. can you believe that they threw him out of that bar?... Chicago is full of crazy people, man... you'd better be careful up there.. and whatever you do... don't go to a bar called Coyote Ugly..."

.. heh... now, let me ask you... after hearing that story, how on Earth can I NOT go to Coyote Ugly now?...

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Changing..

... last night was epic... the first victim arrived just after 6, and the last hanger-on departed around 11:30... heh... once upon a time, back when I had a day-job, everyone would skedaddle when the clock struck 10... but the past two Wednesdays have seen a gradual stretching of the pool playing envelope.. I guess that since I am now unemployed free to loaf, the gang figures they can stay longer... ahhh.... it's all good...

... ebb and flow, children... ebb and flow... it is 7:30 in the morning with blue skies... and I have coffee...

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Tobacco..

... for all of you dazzling urbanites, this post is not going to make any sense...

.. I humbly submit to you gentle readers that the tobacco industry in the South is one of the most backbreaking, torturous, and time consuming institutions in the world... most people have no idea how much work went into them having their daily smokes...

.. you begin by painstakingly hand-planting each seed into a specially worked tobacco bed... then, after a few months, you transplant the fledgling weed into an enormous field... around where I lived, the average field would be 60 to 100 acres.. you hoe, and weed... fertilize and apply pesticides...

.. then you "top and sucker" each plant... by hand... with a pocket knife... bloody Hell... cutting the bloom from each plant, and searching for "sucker" leaves that would drain nourishment from the proper leaves..

.. then the harvest... cutting each stalk with a machete or "tobacco knife"... the cutting was a two-man job.. one hunched worker would slash the plant, and hand it back to a "spearman" who would impale the plant onto a wooden stick... later, after the field was cut, each stringer full of plants would be loaded and taken to a barn for hanging... usually, the tobacco barns were filled top to bottom... tobacco was hung four to six rungs high... fun stuff, I tell ya... the man on the top rung was probably 40 feet off the ground...

... a few months later (while you have been preparing the harvested field for next spring's new planting) it was time to "grade" the dried tobacco.. you hand-stripped each leaf... examined it, and sorted it into grades.. once the whole barn was graded, you baled the tobacco... these were then sold... by now, of course, you have slaved from February to mid-December for this crop of nicotine-laced goodness...

.. ahhh.. rest on your laurels... take a few weeks off... enjoy the New Year... because, guess what?... in two weeks, you have to start preparing your tobacco beds again...

.. as a kid growing up, I hated working in a tobacco field more than anything...

... however, it did teach me one thing... the importance of hard work... the importance of endurance... my Great Uncle Rob was an incredible man... looking back now, spending those terrible days in the field wasn't so bad.. I may have been getting paid minimum wage, but I'd be a lesser man today without the experience... even though I thought it was Hell-on-Earth... he was actually doing me a favor..

... thanks for the memory, Sandy...

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by Eric | Permalink | Bullshit(10) | SWG Stories
» LoboWalk--Welcome to Blogville links with: Passing The Muster
» RedNeck Ramblings links with: Bacca Bloggin'

A Travesty...

... the fact that Stallone didn't even get CONSIDERED for an Oscar back in '86 when Cobra came out is a total fucking shame... I mean, c'mon.. acting like that is truly an art form.... "Cobra" was big budget, baby..

... Stallone got robbed...

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a Shag Bag...

... heh... for the woman who has everything?... get her one of these...

... "(If the balm actually works, I predict endless riches for generations of Brown's family.)"

... yea, verily...

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Tidy Bowel...

.. today's Quote of the Day comes from the St. Petersburg Times..

"Scavotto called his boss to tell him he'd be late because he'd had to wrestle a snake out of his toilet. His boss joked he would need a better excuse than that."

... personally, I think this is no laughing matter.. later in the article, it mentions iguanas, squirrels, snakes, and all manner of varmints appearing in toilets.. that is just so deeply, deeply wrong.. I mean, I have some very sensitive bits exposed whilst Kinging on my throne... and trust me, after that damn wasp episode, you can color my ass gun-shy...

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Beautiful...

... this is the truth.... beautiful and dangerous....

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