Assistance...

... coming from a small town, New Orleans was the first major city I ever saw.. a family vacation years and years ago to visit family living in Slidell... I remember the amazing experience of driving across the bridge that spanned Lake Pontchartrain... and then, of course, the din and craziness of Bourbon Street... and the amazing beauty of the Garden District...

.. later in life, my love of New Orleans only grew... trips down for April Jazzfests.. weekend breaks for tours of bayous...

... now, that is all gone... and there is nothing we can do but watch, mourn, and donate..

... Laughing Wolf is trying in his own way, and the Evil White Guy is pointing to the Red Cross and others... even Yabu has his heart in the right place... his words?.. "If you and I don't do it...nobody will."

... give what you can... we've all lost an irreplaceable treasure this week...

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Kenneth Clarke...

... back when I was a young warrior overseas, John Major's conservatives were running the show in the UK... a pretty non-descript bunch... but they held power for a coon's age... of note among their administration was the Chancellor of the Exchequer, Mr. Clarke...

.. he was the man... channeling the stogie smoking style of Sir Winston, he once delivered the budget to Parliament while sipping scotch and tight-lipping a Torano Reserva Selecta... brilliant stuff... I remember feeling a strong sense of solidarity with him as I watched his delivery from my humble home in Scotland...

.. if memory serves, I believe I broke out a bottle of Bruichladdich
and joined him... well, at least in spirit... any excuse for a drink, you see.. and I was on an Islay malt jag at the time...

... anyway, the BBC reports that corpulent Kenny is going to be throwing his hand in at Leading the Opposition in the gummint over there...

... rock on, Mr. Clarke.. sure, I'm not a huge follower of pommie politics, but this is definitely worth noting... in my humble opinion, a smoking and drinking conservative leader (and eventual Prime Minister, if I may be so bold) would be just what the NHS doctor ordered...

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Big, Bad, and Dead...

... last Wednesday saw complaints flying... drift to the left here... etc... ingrates... so this morning the gentlemen from McDonald's Billiards of Knoxville paid a visit... new felt.. camel colored, as usual, was laid on... fresh leveling.. new Aramith balls... new night cover... the old girl looks right spiffy...

... still, you can't please everyone... I trust they'll find something else to bitch about... but tomorrow it shall hit deaf ears...

... one thing though, before I leave in search of lunch... there was a fairly large Carolina Wolf Spider hiding under one of the legs of old Schmidt as the technicians began the leveling process... being disturbed, she ran about six inches in towards the middle of the table.. entangled her long legs in a sister spider's web, and struggled... in less than five seconds, the teensy proprietress of said web started her descent... miniscule in comparison to the wolf spider, she was undaunted... nipping the ankles of the larger spider a few times, her damage was done...

... in less than 45 seconds, the spooked wolfie was reeled in by her wee sister... the thing is, I'd have laid money that the wolf spider would have destroyed the smaller one... I could not have been more wrong...

... in the end, a fearsome look was, it seems, just that... the real danger came from the unassuming.. which is usually the case...

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Sunrises...

... a few months ago, T1G rode his bike down to Tennessee for a visit.. it was an arduous journey... but not one without rewards....

... the mountains near where I live are truly beautiful to behold... especially at daybreak... and even though he was tired, cold, and wet, he managed to find the grace of the situation... heh... that's what it's all about, if you ask me...

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Dinner with Katrina...

... while glued to the television last night, I prepared dinner between commercial breaks... I succeeded in producing, around 7:35 pm EST, the planet's most horrible pork chop... baked that sucker to greasy oblivion, I did... I will report, however, that my mashed potatoes rocked the house...

... yeah, how the mighty have fallen...of course, I am the king of the sauces... chili and spaghetti are in the bag... and grilling meat?... I can hold my own with the best of them... but give me a lowly pork chop and a televised natural disaster, and I'll hand you a complete culinary failure... and for what?... I definitely should have spent my evening tending my pork and rubbernecking much less... well, you live and learn, I guess....

... still, my Uncle's home in Metairie is most likely under water... at least part of it... he and his family reside in a nice duplex just off of Veteran's Memorial Blvd... Kenner police report large pods of bandits swimming through the six foot swells towards the loot and booty of the Pontchartrain neighborhoods.. wow... that, children, is hardcore thievery...

... even though Katrina ruined dinner last night, New Orleans never ceases to amaze me...

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Nabbed...

... guess what?... some good news on this Monday afternoon... and no, I'm not talking about New Orleans' escape... spammers, people... caught... now let's proscute the bastards... oh, yeah....

The nine-count indictment returned Thursday names Jennifer R. Clason, 32, formerly of Tempe, Ariz.; Jeffrey A. Kilbride, 39, of Venice, Calif.; and James R. Schaffer, 39, of Paradise Valley, Ariz. The indictment charges all three defendants with two counts of fraud and related activity in connection with e-mail under the CAN-SPAM Act and one count of criminal conspiracy.

... good riddance...

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Nawlins....

... just heard on Fox News.. Joseph Suhayda is predicting 25 to 35 feet of standing water over parts of The City if Katrina passes to the east and pushes the storm surge out of Pontchartrain....

... great bloody hell.... what a nightmare...

Update: .. Boudicca says two things that echo Bitterman's comment.. "They're so screwed - Cat 5"... and unfortunately... "I see dead people"... good luck, all....

Update: ... 5 PM EST... just heard a report of people partying down at a daiquiri bar on Bourbon Street... incredible... don't get me wrong, of course... I love me a daiquiri as much as the next guy... but I sure hope they manage to stagger up a few flights of stairs by 4am...

Update: ... 6:49 PM EST... Fox News just interviewed someone named Boudreaux...

Update: ... 7:55 AM EST... the webcams reported by Instapundit are down now...

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Rattlin'...

... a few days ago, I mentioned a song my Grandpa used to sing loudly when he lost himself in the glow of Gentleman Jack... a mysterious and bluesy tune called "Rattlesnakin' Daddy"... not exactly one of the more famous of the barroom ballads, to be sure... but his gusto for belting it out always inspired me... well, after a lifetime spent wondering about the song, I finally took to the internet this morning with focus and purpose... and I've hit paydirt.... check it out... anyone else ever heard of Hawkshaw Hawkins?...

Rattlesnakin' Daddy (Taylor) by Hawkshaw Hawkins, 1951

I'm a rattlesnakin' daddy
I rattle everywhere I please
I'm a rattlesnakin' daddy
I rattle where ever I please
Now, when you hear me rattle
You better get down on your knees, oh Lord

I rattled last night and the night before
Got up this morning, wanted to rattle some more
'Cause I'm a rattlesnake daddy from Tennessee
Now, when you hear me rattle
You better get down on your knees, oh Lord

I rattle down in Georgia
I rattle down in New Orleans
I rattle down in Georgia
I rattle down in New Orleans
Now, when you hear me rattle
You better get down on your knees, oh Lord

When I throw my rattles across my back
Look out baby, you better clear the track
'Cause I'm a rattlesnake daddy from Tennessee
Now, when you hear me rattle
You better get down on your knees, oh Lord

... I am quite prepared to give my first born to anyone who can provide me with an audio clip of this song... yes, I want to hear it that much....

... oh, and speaking of "rattlin' on down to New Orleans", Katrina is on her way.. and she certainly is looking mean... very, very mean... y'all stay safe now... hey, I'm not normally one to recommend beating feet, but I suggest bugging out of The Big Easy as soon as possible...

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The Truth...

... once upon a time, it was considered honorable to tell the truth... forthrightness was an idea that was respected and admired... nowadays?... well, it'll probably get you sued...

...as proof of this, I offer the case of Dr. Bennett.. a criminal by many counts... a Godsend by others... what was his crime?... he told a fat lady that she was obese and needed to lose weight...

.. disgusting, isn't it... that poor lady... sitting in her car crying... her self image bruised and bleeding as she waits in line at McDonalds after leaving his office...

... it's simple, really... people don't want the truth... they want to be patted on the head and told that everything is going to be ok... they want a prescription for the magic pill that will make them happy, healthy, sexual magnets who can speak 7 languages and leap tall buildings in a single bound...

... there is a big difference between being rude and being honest... see, when my Doc tells me to quit smoking, I have a decision to make.. I either quit or I don't... it's his job to look after my health... it is MY job to make sure I do the healthiest things possible... if I don't quit smoking and I get lung cancer, well, here's a news flash... it is MY FAULT... and by the same token, if you tell an obese woman that she should lose 150lbs or she's going to die, she'll sue you...

... one of his other patients, Mindy Haney, seems to have a voice of reason:

"What really makes me angry is he told the truth," Mindy Haney told WMUR-TV on Tuesday. "How can you punish somebody for that?"

Haney said Bennett has helped her lose more than 150 pounds, but acknowledged that she initially didn't want to listen.

"I have been in this lady's shoes. I've been angry and left his practice. I mean, in-my-car-taking-off angry," Haney said. "But once you think about it, you're angry at yourself, not Doctor Bennett. He's the messenger. He's telling you what you already know."

... but that lady who is suing?... honestly, sometimes I read the news and I just don't understand it...

... I'm going out to sit on my patio and listen to the wind chimes... their random noises make more damn sense than what you read in the papers..

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Music stuff....

... it's been a long time since I've been asked to participate in a meme... and a new acquaintance has asked.... so, here goes...

1. Person who most influenced your musical tastes:

... probably my Grandpa... he was a notorious knower of obscure lyrics... and I'm still looking for the complete version of "I'm a Rattlesnakin' Daddy".. yeah, the one where the next line is. "I'm gonna rattle all over this town"... Grandpa was the man... also I have to give props to my Father-in-Law... he got me started loving jazz in a big way... Hoagy Carmichael, Sidney Bechet, and Fats Waller are both played occasionally around here... all in all, I'm a lyrics guy... I can stomach most kinds of music as long as I can enjoy the lyrics... which is probably one of the reasons that I'm now a fully fledged Deacon in the Church of Tom Waits....

2. Top 5 songs to drive to:

5. Step Right Up - Tom Waits... I can sing along at the top of my lungs and never miss a beat while driving... just ask T1G...
4. Serious Business- John Cougar Mellencamp
3. A Little Less Conversation - Elvis Presley
2. Back in Black - AC/DC
1. Born to be Bad - George Thorogood and the Destroyers

3. # of CD's you own:

... not as many as I'd like... I have around 300 cassettes... but only about 75 CDs...

4. Song/CD you were listening to when you lost your virginity:

... I lost my virginity on a blanket in the woods... sorry... just imagine one of those nature soundtracks with some heavy breathing thrown in...

5. Song(s) played at your wedding:

... when we marched out of the church, the organist played "Semper Fidelis"... as a Marine and a brand new husband, it seemed fitting...

6. Favorite sad song:

... "One for my Baby" by Robbie Williams...

7. Song you'd like played at your funeral:

... I used to imagine that I'd want Skynyrd's "Tuesday's Gone"... but lately I've been thinking about "Will the Circle be Unbroken" by the Nitty Gritty Dirt Band...

.. anyway, since this is a brand new meme... and I was the only one tagged... I can't just let it die... so, I tag the following unfortunates....

... The Queen of Cheese...
.. dear Tammi...
... and the Maximum Leader himself...

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by Eric | Permalink | Bullshit(4) | TrackBack (2) | Music
» Naked Villainy links with: Musical Tastes Meme
» Tammi's World links with: Sweet Sweet Music of Life

Gen. Lane.....

... I met the Wife for lunch yesterday at a nice Mexican restaurant in Athens... it's an interesting place... all decked out in Aztec murals... nice bar area... good food... we quite often eat there...

... anyway, as I was waiting for her to arrive, I sat at a table by myself and watched the traffic pass... and almost by accident, a waving flag caught my attention... a Baptist flag, I believe.. although my expertise in religious standards is far from remarkable... and below the outstretched banner was a drooped flag which I could not make out... behind the flagpole, a large stand of hardwood trees stood... funny, I had never noticed it before in all the years of living here...

... after a while, the Wife arrived and we placed our orders... I mentioned to her that I had noticed the flags, and I pointed them out in the distance... when we looked again, the second flag was now standing out... it was a civil war battle flag.. I thought it strange that in all the years of researching local history, I had never heard or read about a CSA graveyard tucked away in town... we immediately decided to investigate after the meal..

... well, we made a good decision... after driving across the road and climbing a small rise on foot, we arrived at a freshly mown clearing surrounded by ancient oaks.. two or three of which were probably 10 feet thick... and lying in the shade they provided was the whole Lane crowd... General Lane, CSA... his wife and children... and many unmarked stones which were probably servants or slaves...

... we took our time and read each stone... the dates proving that some had died young when the "General" had been a "Colonel"... daughters and their husbands buried side by side... we walked the entire length of the small copse... and when we reached the back side where the woods met a hay field, we stopped and turned around... you could see the tranquility of the place... even though it was only yards from a busy highway... I suppose the fact that it was on a hill kept most of the modern sounds from reaching into the trees... it was a very strange feeling to stand in such a place full of quiet and still be able to watch big rigs thunder by on I-75 and hear nothing but the sound of a hawk swapping a battle cry with an angry blue jay...

... once we got back home, I immediately tried to look up General Lane in "Generals in Gray", but he wasn't listed.... but he was being taken care of.... fresh flags of both Church and Nation were proudly flying over his grave... the grass was neatly being kept.... someone, and we wondered who, had certainly not forgotten General Lane... even with all these years past...

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Marley, mon...

... last night's festivities began bizarrely and continued to orbit the surreal all evening... the timbre of the Social Club meeting was a'kilter from the start... I can't put my finger exactly on it, but personally?... well, I blame Bob Marley... I mean, have you ever seen three full-grown whiteboys attempting to dittybop to reggae?.... shameful stuff... hell, and that was early on... the whole sordid affair climaxed when we started playing air guitar to "Exodus"... it was all downhill after that...

... indeed, Bacchus was smiling down on us gentlemen.... eventually, we made our way indoors once our billiard abilities had been snuffed, and discussions of recent conquests took place.. not by me, of course... I'm pure as the driven snow... but the others engaged... everything from late-at-night fumblings to being propositioned in the mini-mart... oh yes, children, the honor of many a local debutante was mulled over with knowing nods and evil grins... shock and awe, people... shock and awe... through much of the conversations, I sat completely stunned... were my hair longer, I am sure that it would have curled at some of the descriptions of decadence...

... in summation?... a very pleasant time was had... and there is no doubt in my mind that had we stuck to Zevon and Young - as we normally do - the evening would have maintained a steadier course... but, oh my... listening to reggae certainly took steamy tell-alls to a whole new level...

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Tassles....

... meanwhile, in Swaziland....

"After the tassels were burnt, some 30,000 Swazi girls danced in the national stadium in front of the king, before feasting on slaughtered cattle"

... happiness, it appears, is a burnt tassle...

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Great Bloody Hell....

... Dax, truly a force to be reckoned with, provides us with today's memorable Quote of the Day... yes, he's a sick, sick man... oh, and it's not really safe for work..

"That's when I heard her gently moan, "Skull fuck me baby, skull fuck me." I thrust harder and faster into her mind. I felt the culmination of all her effort build up from the depth of my loins. As I was holding back my lustful passion, I shouted, "Blink baby, blink for daddy."

... See what I mean?...

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Home alone...

... I fended for myself last night when dinner approached... and I did a pretty good job... no frozen Stouffer's lasagna for me, no, not last night... I even took pity on the pizza delivery guy and saved him from braving the jungle-like heat and humidity to deliver me a fresh pie... instead, I ate donuts... six of them, actually...

... Krispy Kreme's finest fresh raspberry-filled donuts.. and they were awesome...I know this may be a Southern thing, but I find it almost impossible to adequately sing the praises of Krispy Kremes..

... of course, I followed the fine meal with a one-a-day vitamin... you know, just to keep the ole bod in fighting trim..

... afterwards, I comfortably sipped two extra-dry martinis as I watched Fox News froth about Robertson's recently acquired foot-in-mouth disease...

... home alone... hey, I'm all about the finer things in life...

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Heroes....

... on this day... long, long ago... Sir William Wallace was put to death.... I've just had a request to post about it by Redneck... and, y'all know that I love nothing better than making each and every one of you just as happy as a bunch of clams.. so, here goes...

... damn... where to start?... I suppose with Burns... after all, the Bard said it nicely thus...

Scots, wha hae wi' Wallace bled, Scots,
wham Bruce has aften led,
Welcome to your gory bed,
Or to victory!

Now's the day, and now's the hour;
See the front o' battle lour,
See approach proud Edward's power
Chains and slavery!

Wha will be a traitor-knave?
Wha can fill a coward's grave?
Wha sae base as be a slave?
Let him turn and flee!

Wha for Scotland's king and law
Freedom's sword will strongly draw,
Freeman stand or freeman fa',
Let him follow me!

By oppression's woes and pains,
By your sons in servile chains,
We will drain our dearest veins,
But they shall be free!

Lay the proud usurpers low!
Tyrants fall in ev'ry foe!
Liberty's in ev'ry blow!
Let us do or die!

... indeed... them thar be fighting words... but you must understand where ole Rabbie is coming from... after all, his Scotland has just experienced the Act of Union in 1707... or, as Burns himself put it... his country had just been "Bought and sold for English gold.. such a parcel of rogues in a nation".... oh, yeah.. Robbie was nothing if not a nationalist....

... so yeah, he was pissed.... and even I, on the ancient bridge spanning the North Esk river at St. Cyrus, saw the graffiti once... quoting a Roman of yore.. well, paraphrasing actually... if memory serves, I do believe the ole Roman spake in antiquity... "we have made a desert and call it peace..."... then again, I could be wrong... my reading of the great classics has fallen woefully behind recently... so, who said that?.. anyone?...

... anyway, the scrawl in the stone bridge read like this... "Scotland FREE or a DESERT!"... now... see?... shocking, isn't it... yep, it's pretty damn harsh... and hey, that was 1994!...

... as a result, Wallace is many things to many people... in Braveheart, Gibson portrayed him as THE great hero of Scotland.. and that may well be... I'm no historian, after all... but as for myself, I will love William Wallace for another reason.....

... in the granite city of Aberdeen, there is a gigantic statue of Mr. Wallace in front of His Majesty's Royal Theatre... holding his menacing 5'4" sword and scowling... it really is a beautiful thing to behold... but the inscription is what won my heart... the devil is in the details, rubberneckers... it always is...

... what does the inscription read?... well, I've just googled it and can't find it verbatim... but as I recall, it says the following...

... "on this spot in 1298, Sir William Wallace - Guardian of Scotland - murdered the High Sheriff of Aberdeenshire"....

... that totally rocks... I mean, c'mon... who among you has NOT wanted to smack whack a surly Sheriff?....

... so, in fulfilling the request made by Redneck, there you have it... on this day in 1305, Sir William Wallace was executed... and it was a damn crying shame... Longshanks should be ashamed of himself...

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Rambling again..

... back when I was a sprout, a bootlegger named Bill ran a show on the bad side of Madisonville.... hard hooch... Ole Granddad.. Fighting Cock.. rough stuff... high octane corn squeezings.... his clientele being the type that was after the genuine busthead and frowned upon fine sipping whiskey... they sought the cheapest high around... and Bill usually had it laid on... how do I know this?... well, one does not grow up in the bald tire-haywagon area of the South without seeking fun and games... and I was no different...

... from early on, me and a few buds would slip into the black section of town and purchase a half-pint or two... then steal to the backside of the farm for a camp-out where we'd get hammered and dance like wildmen by the campfire... inevitably puke, fall asleep on the ground, and wake the next morning to find our jeans soaked by the dampness of the dew.. shivering.. hung over.. and tired... good times...

... not that I was a miscreant, no.. not at all... it was simply what was done back then by young snappers such as I...

... I actually met Mr. Black's niece in Pensacola while I was going through Crypto school.. a big, black, buxom lass... a SSGT in the Army at the time... she was teaching one class or another, I can't remember... I do remember that I was in awe of her technical abilities though... SSGT Black was a true cryptographic force of will.. crunching numbers and algorithms like a big number crunching thing...

... I'd known her for about two months before she finally told me that she was from east Tennessee... my 17 year old mind put two and two together, and I realized that this fine, upstanding woman who held a Top Secret SCI clearance was niece to a man who consistently got most of the youngsters, drunks, and deacons of Monroe and McMinn county wired up every given Friday night... it was an incredible revelation... and proof positive that the FBI currently crawling the county asking questions about my wayward childhood would find absolutely NOTHING to keep them from handing me my clearance when the time came...

... anyway, we had found a common thread, and it was beautiful... she a relative, and I, a customer of a fine bandit...

... she offered to give me a lift back to Etowah during the Christmas break from training... I immediately took the bait.. a great trip too... the long drive from Pensacola to Etowah zipped by in no time.. although, we must have been a strange looking couple... a fine black woman in her prime and a scrawny pup of a redhead with freckles tooling along the Alabama backroads in a 1985 Cadillac land-yacht..

... strange stuff, though... I heard a few years ago that Bill had checked out...died at home on the couch, I believe... and the neighborhood that he sold cheap liquor from was now in shambles... violence, drugs, and such... no more bootlegging there... meth and crack instead... no more kids sneaking off with a fifth of bourbon and a knapsack for an impromptu "camping trip"... instead, kids showing up with the trunk of their mustang full of stolen silverware and trying to score some rock... kinda fucking depressing, really....

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Jealous...

... this is a beautiful post... I just wish all Mother-in-Laws were like that.. mine, of course, is pretty damn awesome... but I have to admit, she ain't perfect...

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breaking the mood...

.. if you ever find yourself snuggling on the couch late in the evening while watching X2 with your Significant One... and if they happen to wistfully ponder a question... and then they answer it themselves.. and then propose the selfsame question to you... be very careful what you say... it is easy to allow the bonding of peace, serenity, and adult beverages to lull you into a false sense of security... for instance..

.. as Wolverine was slashing his way through fifty heavily armed kidnappers at the X-Men's base, I heard this from my Dear above the screaming of the recently knifed...

... "those mutants rock... if I could have those super powers, well... I'd want to be Wolverine... yeah... Wolverine... he kicks ass.... dear?... which mutant would you like to be?"....

... now listen closely... what ever you do in this situation, do not say the following...

... I took a sip of my Scotch, and placed the tumbler gently on the ottoman... I craned my neck as if deep in thought for a moment.. and as I lit a cigarette, I gave my answer.... "that's an interesting question.... hmmm... probably which ever one is doing the nasty with Storm on a nightly basis"..

... that is the wrong answer... trust me on that...

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Quote of the Day...

... just when you think you've seen it all, you find yourself shocked... stunned by mere words.. jolted over your morning coffee by a sentence that you imagined you'd never, ever hear in a million years.... well, except maybe at a blogmeet as Dax and Jimbo can attest to... but at least in Jekyll it was valid questions concerning marmoset masturbation... anyway, check this out...

... "He summarized the movie as "bizarre, generally slow, and features a baffling number of raccoon scrotums."

... yes.. yes, rubberneckers... you read that right... damn, what a sentence... for the full effect, have a look around here if you dare... I, for one, have nothing further to add...

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fishing and watching....

... just back from spending the day in the mountains fishing with family and friends...beautiful stuff... and now I'm off to make some firehouse chili to get the blood pumping again.. the water in the river was liquid ice and we need some fire.... caught two small fish, but threw them back.... dinner wasn't the point anyway... had a few brews and watched the Wife fish for a while as I sat on the bank... knee-deep in the Hiwassee and her khakis were clinging... not a bad afternoon when you think about it...

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Oh yeah...

.. let the streets flow with the blood of the non-believers...


Get your position here

.. nabbed from VW... who, of course, must be eliminated...

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by Eric | Permalink | Bullshit(5) | TrackBack (4) | Psycho Rants
» phin's blog links with: Bow to my greatness
» A Swift Kick & A Band-Aid links with: It's MY White House Now
» Gut Rumbles links with: I'll pass
» Theater of the Soul links with: Fear Me

Dancing....

... I was just reading about how Justrose loves to dance... and how she manages to get out and tear up the Philly dance floors ever so often... and she seems to have a great time... but it got me to thinking... I've never really liked dancing... of course, it could be that I don't enjoy it because I dance like a drunk spastic barefoot man on a hot tin roof, but I'm not sure... either way, watching me dance is not a pretty sight..

.. there must be some mental block... deep, deep down that separates those who can dance from those of us who just flail about... I do have a sense of rhythm, so that's not the problem... I think I'm just too damn self-conscious... either that or I'm afraid of knocking some innocent bystander senseless with an accidental elbow to the noggin.... I'd much rather be the guy propping up the bar and watching the action than out there jumping and wiggling... plus, if I were out there bumping and grinding, I'd end up spilling my drink.. and that would be a buzz kill for sure...

... now, I do enjoy the occasional slow-dance... and I can two step fairly well... and I've even played a hand or two at those whirly Scottish dances.. but they are more like exercises in drunken precision marching that just letting it all hang out to some funky groove... but just shaking my hips in wild abandon?.. it just ain't gonna happen...

... sure, I'm a stick-in-the-mud.. but I'm much rather find a nice, quiet spot... sip my drink... and watch people enjoying their dance than actually get out there with them...

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by Eric | Permalink | Bullshit(6) | TrackBack (1) | Psycho Rants
» On the Patio links with: Sunday Morning SideWalk

finding God...

... good afternoon, rubberneckers... I have a public service announcement... it seems that El Capitan has flipped right out... yep.. gone off his rocker in a fine, fine style... but hey, it's cool... I'd absolutely love to swap Eucharist recipes with him...

... oh, and the stripper factory and beer volcano in Heaven are very nice touches...

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the finer things....

... I'm not usually an impulsive guy... I'm fairly measured and extremely laid back most of the time... but after a few adult beverages, I have been known to, well, just come to a blogmeet and you'll see... however, my adventurous side surfaced unexpectedly yesterday on aisle 12 of the supermarket.. that wee flash resulted in the procurement of a small package of chocolate covered blueberries.. it was literally one of those "wow, holy shit... they make those?.. WELL, I've just gotsta try them" kind of moments...

.. sitting here now, I think I made a pretty damn good decision... I can now add blueberries to the list of chocolate-covered things I've eaten... a long and distinguished list... consisting mainly of cherries, strawberries, crickets, peanuts, raisins, ants, raspberries, apples, bananas, almonds, brazil nuts, and now blueberries.... although, in re-reading the list, I am quite sure I left something out but just can't put my finger on it...

... so anyway, I feel fairly well qualified now to make a proclamation... ready?... here it is.. everything is better when dipped in chocolate... animal, mineral, or vegetable, it really doesn't matter... a little bit of chocolate can tame the toughest of the inedible... even blueberries...

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Bite me....

.... I was watching a bad B-movie late last night, and the idea hit me... if I could be a movie monster, I'd quite fancy being a werewolf.... not those whacked out ones like in Wolfen or American Werewolf in London... more like the old 1940s version... just a big fuzzy man-wolf who looks a bit cheesy and chases swooning hotties.. that's what would suit me...

.. incidentally, the first time I ever graced a drive-in with my presence, I saw Lon Chaney Jr. drool and growl in The Wolfman... maybe that has something to do with it...

.. sadly, though, werewolf flicks have gone seriously downhill since Lon's genius... and while trying to google a photo of Chaney for this post, I found some shocking information... proof-positive that my favorite movie genre has been circling the drain for some time... behold...

Werewolves on Wheels (1971)
"With surfing music blaring on the soundtrack, motorcycle gang members curse, attend impromptu orgies, drink barrels of beer, and rough up some monks. In retaliation, cyclists are cursed with lycanthropy (they're turned into werewolves). What follows is some very unintentional comedy and some very unnecessary nudity." Source: The Creature Feature's Movie Guide..

... sure, it sounds bad... but in a very creative way... and you just can't NOT watch that movie after a review like that..

... but, hey... it gets even better... check this one out...

Werewolf of Woodstock (1975)
"A few days after the Woodstock festival, a beer-drinking, hippie-hating farmer (Tige Andrews from TV's The Mod Squad) who lives next to the farm, is struck by lightning and turns into a beer-drinking, hippie-hating werewolf who preys on the slow-to-leave concert-goers. The Creature Feature's Movie Guide describes it as "undoubtedly one of the dumbest lycanthropy movies ever produced."

... you know, it makes one wonder two things... first, what the hell were those people smoking in the 70s?... and secondly, I thought it was supposed to be hard to break into the Hollywood scene... quite obviously, that assumption is wrong... Werewolf of Woodstock??... it just goes to prove that anyone can write a screenplay and get it made into a movie...

... but the truly horrible thing is this.. after reading those reviews, I MUST see both of those movies.. but I suspect they'll be hard to find... probably being hoarded by rabid werewolf memorabilia collectors... bastards...

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by Eric | Permalink | Bullshit(6) | TrackBack (1) | Psycho Rants
» Gut Rumbles links with: b movies

England Swings...

... Roger Miller was a complete lunatic... total and unrepentant... but still, I am in awe of him... a man that could snort an entire concert paycheck in less time than it took the bemused country folk to drive back home... yeah, I'm talking serious blow.... a man who, with straight face, would sing "Don't Roller-skate in a Buffalo Herd" in front of music critics... a genius who wrote "Dang Me" in four minutes... and toiled six weeks to pen "King of the Road"...

.. yeah, I've been eased back here... chilling to some Miller... the finishing touches were placed on the patio this morning, and I'm kicking back.... time to nestle down onto those proverbial laurels for a bit... and for some reason, I was just craving the off-key voice of Roger Miller....

... see, here's what I've been thinking as the Aberlour works.... art doesn't have to be pretty... it doesn't have to be stiff or stodgy or locked in a museum... real art is like life... warts, wounds, smiles, and tragedy... the only thing art MUST do is entertain... even if it is on a level that you can barely recognize..... hey, I'm no high-brow, that's for sure... and tonight I'm raising a glass to Roger... clever, tragic, and complicated.... just like most people I know....

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Memories...

... like most good Southern people, I have some Skynyrd in my car... and after reading this, I feel the need to share....

.. Blackfive does a great service with his blog... and he has done great service himself.... he spreads the word and helps the troops... and it is good... he points us to noble causes... he shines light on bloggers who are working out on the bleeding edge of this war we're in... but when he writes something like the post linked above, the humanity beams through...

... visit his site and donate if you can... there are links on his sidebar....

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Awesome Hotdogs...

... the Wife and I drove down to Cleveland yesterday just for the hell of it... actually, that's not true.. we were on a mission to buy Cadbury's chocolates, but I like to think we just went for the hell of it...

... there is a deli in the downtown area... Mom and Pop type thing.. innocuously called The Gardener's Market... which is kinda funny in itself in that none of the stuff they sell is grown, produced, or remotely connected with a east Tennessee garden... it's all imported.... the proprietors aren't locals either... from Canada, I think... anyway, their wee shoppe is packed to the gunnels with British food... chocolate, rice, sauces, and teas... just like the stuff you'd find on the shelf of a Safeway or Sainsbury's.... I highly recommend it if you ever find yourself in Cleveland for lunch....

.... we make the journey down there every few months for the essentials.. for me, that is big jar of Branston Pickle... and if you don't know what Branston Pickle is, you simply have not lived... go forth and acquire some immediately.. that stuff completes the perfect cheese sandwich like nothing else on earth... but for the Wife, the trip is to fondle, squeeze, and purchase nearly everything else in the shop...

... indeed, the owner sure loves to see us come in the front door...

... damn... where was I going with this?... what's this all about?... crap.. I forgot where I was headed with the story about driving to Cleveland.. maybe I'll remember the rest of the story later... damn, I hate it when that happens... anyway, it's Wednesday and I'm off to shoot pool with the usual societal rejects... if anyone needs me, I'll be in the garage...

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by Eric | Permalink | Bullshit(3) | TrackBack (1) | Drinking
» Closet Extremist links with: So I finally got off my ass...

Woe..

... sweet Lord... two things recently have struck chords with me.... first, Fox news has Mr. T on this morning.... I thought that bastard was dead... and I've never fully forgiven him for pushing Burgess Meredith down those stairs... I'm glad Rocky kicked his ass for that... you should always be kind to old people, you know..... but how the times have changed... no more mohawk... stars'n'stripes do-rag instead.. the man's lost his shtick.. shameful stuff.... and on top of all this morning's mischief, I notice that the Thunderman was poking fun at me the other day.... what is this crazy world coming to?... it seems he doesn't feel my pain....

.. you know that pain, right... that embarrassment of being woefully unemployed?... poor and shiftless?... feeling the oppressive guilt and jealousy of all you working people?.. sitting and reading poetry and sipping Scotch all day long?... Jesus, ever been bereft, people?... hey, if it'll make you rubberneckers feel better, I'll put up a tip jar... then y'all will have no excuse....

... yeah, whatever.... listen... my life is not meant for everyone.. I am made of strong - yet remarkably flexible - stuff... it takes a special breed to handle being me.... and that is a fact... trust me, y'all can't handle the full truth of my existence... were I to disclose it completely, you people would go blind, or deaf.. or something... hell, Thunderman couldn't even hang ONE DAY in New Orleans recently... you want to talk shameful?... that's pretty bad....

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Talk slow, I'm from Tennessee...

... vacation plans are being set in motion.... some time during the month of September, the Wife and I shall invade Manhattan... just imagine Rob Roy and one of the Clampetts and you'll be on the right track... and I've been told by Twisty that I can't bring my pistol OR pocket knife, and that is truly a shame... but I still plan on laying down my own unarmed style of Hillbilly shock and awe... so it should be fun...

... the blueprints are still pretty sketchy at the moment, but the whole endeavor literally bursts with promise... and at the very least, it should prove an interesting diversion from the normal patio-blogging I've been doing... oh, and I've been to New York.. but I never left Long Island... and to hear Jimbo tell it, Long Island is the sticks compared to what we're headed for... and I'm in for a sensory overload when I hit "The City"...

.. ahh... it's all good... I'm not too worried about the crime or the hustle.. Hell, it can't be that much worse than London, Dhaka, or Paris.... I just hope that the Waldorf Astoria doesn't miss all the towels I'm about to steal...

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Poetry Day II...

... more recordings are at the bottom of the post below.... others, though not requested, will be placed in this post at various times during the evening as I see fit... of course, once the Bushmills kicks in, things might get difficult...

... one of my all-time favorites... The Pullman Porter... "a humble bard of boys and barmen"... that is why I love Robert Service...

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by Eric | Permalink | Bullshit(3) | TrackBack (1) | R W Service
» The Laughing Wolf links with: A Public Service

Poetry Day...

...Requested poems are at the bottom.. it'll be updated all day...

... this time one year ago, I was reading Robert Service to y'all.... it seems like forever since I've sung his praises... times change, I suppose... and I'm not sure that's a good thing... back when I started this blog, Service was a staple.. and I still read his poems once or twice a week.... but back in the day, you'd find something posted about him here nearly every week.... since then, I have ventured down other roads... and come to love the works of other poets... Tom Waits... Frost... and the incredible Ogden Nash.. they continually humble me...

... so today shall be a day of Robert Service... one of my heroes... and one of the inspirations for starting this damn blog to begin with...

... I will be recording myself reading and/or reciting Service works all day as I feel so inclined... so this is your chance.. if you have a favorite, let me know and I'll give it a shot and post it later..

... if no one wants to play, that's cool too.. it's not going to keep me from playing with poems all day long... you've been warned...

UPDATE... as requested... My Madonna... and one of Robert Service's fine WWI poems.. Victory Stuff....

UPDATE 2... by email request... Maternity... no, it's not really what you think..

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by Eric | Permalink | Bullshit(9) | TrackBack (2) | R W Service
» Bad Example links with: STUFF THAT YOU MIGHT LIKE
» The Laughing Wolf links with: A Public Service

Belly-up...

.. I recently found this blog... or it recently found me, I forget which... but after visiting, I knew I'd found a drunkard kindred spirit...

... I prefer Bombay Sapphire to Tanqueray, but still... if he's buying, I'm sipping....

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Fruit...

... the muscadine vine that I discovered in the Spring is finally putting out... she's bearing fruit for her very first time... I couldn't be happier... not too many, though... just enough to casually walk by and graze upon when touring your kingdom in the afternoon....

... one of my dear Uncles, wise in the ways of the forest, once told me that the wild vines would not produce fruit so long as they are on the ground... bowing to his greater knowledge of the ancient secrets, I purchased a trellis... that wiry sprout has climbed it all Summer and now I have muscadines... of course, I can not vouch for the truth in his tale... after all, it was not until we cleared half an acre of rainforest that I laid eyes upon the wee sapling... so the premise remains unscientific.. still, I do have fruit now... so there you go...

... next year, of course, she'll be rocking and rolling... sporting enough succulent fruit that I'll be able to make some homemade jailhouse busthead and get royally hammered on the patio... well, at least according to the almanac and Uncle Jim...

... after all, it is just for such pleasures that we toil... and I hear that Velociman has limes...

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Equality...

... today's Quote comes from the ever under-spoken Graumagus...

"If a woman needs a man like a fish needs a bicycle, then a man needs a Steinem-ized brainwashed feminist bint like my ass needs a hemorrhoid cream made from ground glass and chili paste."

... now, I ask you... how can you argue with that?..

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ADT & TV shows...

... ADT secures my house... well, at least they claim to... like most people, I like to think that the security of my home is my responsibility... but still, it is nice to have backup... when they installed the alarm system two years ago, each exit door was decorated with a sensor that would beep three times when the door was opened... at first it was irritating... but now, it's grown on us... kinda nice to know a door is opening or closing from anywhere in the house...

... well, last night, I crashed hard early and was dreaming in sweet sleep by 11pm.... around three, I was awakened by the distinct sound of three far-off beeps... someone had opened an external door in my home... I immediately slipped out of bed wearing only my warface and eased around the corner with my .45 at low port.... nothing... totally quiet.. I checked each room in the darkness and stopped to listen as I examined every door... all secure... very, very strange....

... I slinked back to the living room and lit up a smoke... sitting in the darkness, I had relaxed back onto the sofa and was enjoying the pre-dawn buzz of a nicotine high when I heard the three beeps again... now, from where I sat, all three external doors were within sight... I'd checked them all and knew they were locked... and now I could SEE each of them... and none of them were open...

... at this point, the Wife's head slowly appeared around the corner of the bedroom... 9mm in hand.... "I heard you get up," says she... "why did you go outside?"...

... "I didn't... but I guess you heard the noise too..."

... by now, we are kinda freaked out... two well-armed adults sitting on the couch wondering what was going on... and then, it happened again... three low beeps...

... that's when we saw it... a light was shining out from the face of my cell phone... someone had left a damn voicemail, and it was dutifully beeping every so often to notify me... upon checking the offending mail, I found that some chick I don't even know had left a message to the tune of "uhmmmm... someone from this number called me... I see from my caller ID that your name is Eric... do I know you?... anyway, give me a call back..."...

.. this crazy person called and left a message on my phone at 12:23AM... now, honestly... riddle me this... what kind of idiot calls a complete stranger after midnight and leaves a message like that?.. but really, even though that young woman obviously has her priorities wrong, I really can't blame her... my "defend myself from being brutally beaten to death by a golf-club-wielding crack addict" has been kicked into overdrive lately...

... I think I need to stop watching "Dead Reckoning" episodes back-to-back... somewhere, deep within my subconscious, that show fingers my psyche to self-defense fever pitch...

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Wounds...

.... this afternoon, I found myself attending the first function that my Surname-side of the family had held in quite a while... the eldest of my Father's family was having her 65th birthday party and all and sundry were invited... it was a very pleasant affair... kids of all ages jumping into the swimming pool... adults of various vintages milling around catching up on each other's lives...

... and it was in this blissful familial scene that I was asked to open a box of soda pop... a harmless act normally... but in this case, it triggered a set of events that I'll likely never live down...

.... see, I carry a knife.... no big deal really... most adult males of the Tennessee species carry one... the things are useful, after all... one never knows when he'll need to sever a seatbelt, open a surly box, or split the occasional watermelon.. and God forbid he ever have to defend himself.... so when asked, I simply whipped mine out....

... this prefaced gasps and "oohs" from the ladyfolk present... one even remarked thus... "damn, boy!... no one needs a knife THAT big!"... and with that, the audience to my box-killin' took notice.... all stopped..... all gazed at the blade I had miraculously produced from my seemingly unarmed trousers....

... well, someone asked to see it.... so I duly handed it over.... and before I could retrieve it, Cousin B began the tale of the wounding episode that took place in my kitchen once... of course, during a Wednesday Social Club Gathering...... horrified aunts.... belly-laughing uncles... various and assorted cousins scrambling for safety as I was forced to showed my scar...

... twas quite horrible, I assure you... those tales are normally only told to a select few.. the ones who will appreciate it... you know, the people who come around on any given Wednesday.... tonight, however, I was outed....

... the worst thing though, was when Cousin B began describing how he superglued it all back together.... that was too much for the squeamish among the bunch.... hey, at the time it was THE thing to do... superglue has antiseptic properties.... but today on the veranda?... well, it wasn't exactly the way you want to have your 65 year old Auntie celebrating her birthday....

.. for everything, it seems, there is a time and a place..

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by Eric | Permalink | Bullshit(7) | TrackBack (1) | Drinking
» basil's blog links with: Late Night Snack: 8/12/05

Hope springs...

.. today's Quote is dedicated to all of you people who are older than me....

"Helen has one rule. No touching above the waist.

Hey, at 85, she's been around the block a few times. She knows what young whippersnappers like 65-year-old Bob will try to get away with if you don't keep 'em in line."

.. and from the same article....

"Which is a lot better than innocently doing your rounds and walking by a room to see an old guy going down on a female resident, as was the case with one young nursing home attendant who was among the public health nurses and sex educators attending the Guelph seminar.

"I didn't know what to do," she explained. "I didn't think I should disturb them but I was worrying about things like, 'If the woman is incontinent, could he get an infection? So should I go clean things up down there? And if I do that, does that make me a dating service rather than a nurse?' It was pretty comical, yet distressing."

... time, people... it's coming for us all.... keep the faith, brothers and sisters.... and don't let a little dementia slow you down...

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by Eric | Permalink | Bullshit(5) | TrackBack (1) | Psycho Rants
» Gut Rumbles links with: Sad? I don't know...

Work....

... the workmen who were scheduled to help me today called off.... they'll be here tomorrow instead.. no big deal, really... in the great scheme of things, it's a pretty insignificant endeavor... besides, we should find ourselves putting the finishing touches on our masterwork shortly... so no harm, no foul...

... the result?.. well, I worked alone today from 8:30 to 2:30... I don't think I spoke a word out loud during those hours... just working, drinking water, smoking cigarettes, and resting... as it turned out, having my crew bail on me was a strange pleasure...

... I'd stop occasionally to water the plants, of course... and then, after a short rest, I'd dive back in.... a few times I even took a smoke-break in the shade and listened to the insects for five or ten minutes... unexpectedly loud for the hot time of day... cicadas, most likely, although I never saw one...

... sand and gravel were slowly moved - one shovel-full at a time - to their precise location and the beginnings of the path started to appear... first shrouding the stone and then grasping and hugging it as I soaked it down with the watering hose.... sand and gravel making a makeshift mortar...

... I was soaked by the end of it all.. my BDU working pants were wet, and my combat boots were squelching as I walked along the path from being filled with sweat... the baseball cap that I wore actually became a relief after an hour of wear... soaked to bursting, it offered a slightly cooling effect as the hot breeze dwindled past....

... funny, really.... I thought of my Father at times today, and how hard he would work himself... I never understood why he'd push himself so hard when it was just a simple lawn.. or fence row... or barn that he was working on... part of my mind would tell me as I helped him... "there is always tomorrow.. why can't we call it a day?".... don't get me wrong... laziness didn't factor into it... it was just that I'd rather be doing something else... listening to music or reading a book or playing baseball... instead of sweating and getting calluses on a hard-scrabble bit of land....

... but today, as I have done many times, I worked in my lawn alone... but it was different this time.... for a split second as I stood there sweating, I could almost understand the pride that my Father must have felt all those times.... lost, as it were, in the toil... goal in mind... focused... the finish line in sight.... bones and muscles aching but determined to see the course....

... it didn't last long, that feeling... and as I ground out the cigarette butt and picked up the shovel again, the idea passed from me.... there is a difference, and I see it now... between my Father and I... see, if he were here today, he would still be out there working... finishing the job.... me?... well, I am here... settling back with a Scotch and preparing to watch a DVD as the Sun starts to set...

... I miss him... and love him... but I don't think I'll ever really understand him....

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Body Art...

... I was talking with Biker Steve last night about all of his tattoos... pretty interesting stuff... each of them has a distinct meaning....

... I think I've decided to get one myself... trouble is, I can't decide on where to get it... arm, leg... chest.... I do have two designs picked out though... either Squidward in a flak jacket holding a M249... or a rabid USMC bulldog mauling Spongebob...

... I'm thinking shoulder...

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Last night....

... last night's festivities went well... my newly acquired "liquor tree" got plenty of exercise... it's like a four-bottle lazy Susan for dispensing perfectly measured shots... nice... a stainless steel work of art, it is.. and it spins... heh....

pool_small.jpg

... Biker Steve kicked tail, though... and I ended up losing overall... 7 to 5 in eight-ball... moonshine was involved as best I can remember...

... anyway, today is the day to finish work on the patio.. hopefully, that is.... so I am off to the back 40 to sweat out the poison...

... hey, that which doesn't kill us only makes us stronger, and all that...

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Cheated...

... as I was reading the news headlines today, one in particular caught my eye... it was an article on the inner workings of Marilyn Monroe's mind... how could one pass up such a gem to read over the morning coffee?... indeed, I certainly couldn't...

.. the article drops a few bombshells, too... it goes on to say that Monroe attributed her ability to achieve orgasm to the teachings of her psychiatrist, Dr Ralph Greenson.... well, at that point in the article, I was began to perk up just a wee bit.. my mind began to wander... dizzying tangents of possibilities spun and streaked... the overall conclusion?... I bet old Ralphie loved going to work in the mornings....

... add to that a quote from Miss Monroe...

"Speaking of Oscars," she says, "I would win overwhelmingly if the Academy gave an Oscar for faking orgasms. I have done some of my best acting convincing my partners I was in the throes of ecstasy."

... whoa... now, I'll be the first to concede that Marilyn's inability to find a man who could satisfy her is deeply sad... however, I also feel that we, her fans, have been horribly cheated...

... for instance... most men (and some women) get all kinds of hot'n'bothered when they watch Meg Ryan moan and coo through her fake O in "When Harry met Sally"... Hell, I'll admit that it is a sterling piece of acting... and it is not without it's turn-on ability either...

... but gentle readers, just imagine...

marilyn_glasses.jpg

... just imagine how much better that scene would have been if she'd pulled a Meg on us.. dazzling us with her Oscar-worthy orgasm-faking ability... and notice the glasses, too... very nice touch, if you ask me...

... I shudder to think, people.. I really, really do... but one thing is for sure, though... "How to Marry a Millionaire" would have been the biggest hit of 1953.... Hell, people would STILL be buying copies of it today...

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Discovery is Home..

... as a group, we Americans are spoiled beyond words... we're children of the sound bite.. junkies of the quick thrill... we'd rather watch a train wreck than a spacewalk... and it really is quite pathetic....

... sure, I am a victim of this too.. so don't go getting your knickers in a wad... but deny it as you might, it is a fact...

... . I have an attention span rivaled only by that of the gnat... but just now I watched Discovery touch down... and I have to tell you, I was truly moved...

... there is, after all, nothing routine at all about orbiting the Earth and coming home safely... every time it is done, it is a minor miracle of ingenuity, dedication, and pure will... we all should be incredibly proud...

... earlier in the week I spouted off about the possible negative fates of the Russian sub and the Discovery crew... in both cases, I was wrong.. and of that, I am very, very glad..

... still, the question remains.. how is it that we have lost our hope?.. where did we lose our way?.. where is the joy and marvel?..

... the last time I remember doing my happy dance was when Fox News announced that our initial POWs during the war had been found alive and well... it has been a long, long time since then... and you know what?... that is a sad state of affairs... I definitely need to change my perspective...

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by Eric | Permalink | Bullshit(8) | TrackBack (1) | Psycho Rants
» basil's blog links with: Lunch: 8/9/05

A cunning plan...

... feelings run hot over the same-sex marriage issue... I guess THIS isn't really a surprise then, is it?...

.... heh... never underestimate the power of tax relief...

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Goodbye....

... this week is starting off alllllll wrong....

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by Eric | Permalink | Bullshit(6) | TrackBack (1) | Drinking
» Random Fate links with: After the precedent...

The Human State...

... Shoe is in denial... but at least she's making it pretty damn entertaining.. and she hits a nail or two on the head with this line...

... "sweet sweet denial..keeping families on speaking terms for generations"...

.. indeed... she is wise beyond her years, she is... that's my girl...

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Trust...

.. I awoke this morning to a truly gruesome scene... as I was walking through the kitchen with a fresh cup of coffee, I glanced out the window into the back lawn... on either side of my nearly-completed patio, Fred and Ginger reclined.. I noticed their uncanny resemblance, in their own miniature way, to the lions of Trafalgar Square and laughed to myself... I stood there for a while and watched them... and then I noticed that they both were crouched upon juvenile rabbits.. headless, of course, and were leisurely crunching through fur, bone, and flesh...

... now, those two cats are the Wife's pride'n'joy... and I have to admit that even I occasionally enjoy their company.. they aren't snooty like most cats, and readily come when called... it is almost as if they imagine themselves dogs... but this morning I realized why, deep down, I dislike all cats... domesticated cats show a side of nature that cuts you to the bone... the hunt, kill, eat that is everyday survival... the problem is that even with "domestication", cats continue to follow their primal instincts... they are well fed and groomed... wanting for nothing... and yet the kill everything that happens to wander into their path....

... I have to admit, it pissed me off when I realized what those cats had done.... and I thought about putting the Wife to an ultimatum today.. either get them de-clawed, or stop feeding them.... after all, they are going to hunt, kill, and eat regardless of whether they are hungry or not... so if that's what they want, at least their victims can be for actual sustenance... OR have the Vet cut their switchblades off... render them slightly less harmful....

... domesticating cats is wrong... they are never 100% domesticated anyway... they are like miniature tigers who happen to let you pat them on the head once in a while... and if they weighed 200lbs, WE would be on the menu... and they'd kill us just because we moved... argue all you want, but it is true.. we admire some of their traits, sure... their grace and speed.. the beauty of their physical design... but some others are just plain offensive... cats are wild animals in their hearts... and on a very deep level, I simply don't trust them..

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by Eric | Permalink | Bullshit(19) | TrackBack (2) | SWG Stories
» Gut Rumbles links with: Quote of the day
» basil's blog links with: Lunch: 8/8/05

Canned...

.. maybe I'm just a bit jaded, but does anyone else sense a similarity between those Russians chilling with the halibuts near Kamchatka and the Astronauts hurtling through orbit?... no?... well, that's fair enough... but I do.. and as much as I hate to say it, I don't have a warm fuzzy about either of them...

UPDATE: ... it seems the Russian Sailors are alive and well... that's good stuff... now, let's get those Astronauts home in their brokedick shuttle...

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Crazy People...

.. actions often speak louder than words... this gentleman, for instance, has it going on... and had it happened in Tennessee, I would have sworn that he had been at my house on a Wednesday or two...

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Community...

... lookit.. I dig the whole idea of community... totally and 100%.. people helping people, and all that... and, of course, the small things... like saying "howdy, neighbor" to the neighbor as you walk down the street.. giving the well-meant "thank you, ma'am" to the 17 year old girl who hands you the Big Mac at the drive-thru... it's easy, and it works... civilization with a smile and a wave...

... I give, too... time, money, and a helping hand... to bloggers, charities, and with care packages for troops overseas, I give freely... one might even say that this blog is a result of that.. just me sitting here talking to myself and y'all rubbernecking and occasionally commenting... hey, it's cool... but, a community, it is NOT...

... which brings me to my point.. you people depress the living Hell out of me... not a single damn one of you rubberneckers has offered to come over and help me finish my damn patio.. sorry, sorry stuff... can't you see me suffering here?... indeed, where's the love?... and where's this blog-community you hear everyone talking about?... uh huh... it's a complete fabrication...

... I give and give... and all you bastards do is take, take, take..

... and for what it is worth, yes, I am working on that sand-swelled pariah again today.. and yes, I am tired, sweaty, and sunburnt... and you know what?... it's all your fault.. if all of my bloguncles, blogkids, and blogbrothers & sisters were to show up, we'd be done in no time and sucking down pina coladas in the shade... but, no... you people are just too selfish..

... so I shall continue on... steadily plodding towards my goal alone...

... fine... but I expected so very much more from you all.... each and every one of you should all be ashamed of yourselves... as for me?... well, it's 2:30 here... lunch break is over... and it is time to get back to work... dammit...

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by Eric | Permalink | Bullshit(23) | TrackBack (1) | Psycho Rants
» basil's blog links with: Brunch: 8/7/05

Fanatics...

... you know, Abdul is looking way, way too happy... and really, when you think about it long and hard, the fact that he's smiling is the most frightening part...

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Aches...

... as a rule, I try not to presume... I am, after all is said, just a simple man, and I forever endeavor to withhold judgment until facts become known... neither am I a reactionary, for that matter.... but today, I hurt in places that I hardly could have imagined existed.. toil, self-inflicted, is the culprit... base and mean and sweaty...

.. I will, however, hazard a guess... an out-of-character presumption... I can say with a certain certainty that tomorrow, this day's pain shall appear infantile in comparison... the veritable bud of the soon-to-arrive flower...

... muscles, they allow one to see the future...

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Velocimaid....

.... good God.... is nothing sacred?!?... behold... heh heh... apparently not....

... pity, though... as stylish as he is, you'd have imagined that his bonnet would've matched his shoes....

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Milkshake...

... yesterday was a complete success... not only did I manage to bag each of my elusive quarry, I also found some added bonii... for instance, the Godiva Chocolate Shop has taken lately to creating milkshakes.. yes, gentle ones... it is true...a Godiva chocolate milkshake.... I took a fancy to a white chocolate/raspberry puree example... marvelous stuff, I tell ya....

.. secondly, as the Wife and I were making our way to the exit of the mall, we passed a Victoria's Secret shop.... I took slight exception when she asked if we should go in... I am, at heart, a shy creature, and it was a moment of pure imbecility on my part.... so she ventured forth alone... as she disappeared into the sultry shoppe, I found myself sitting quietly on a thoughtfully provided bench out front of the shop sipping my milkshake.. well, I have two words for you.. Good.. God....

... listen, school is about to start here.. and I honestly had no idea that high school girls wore thongs.. no, really... a steady procession of young nubiles flowed past me and my milkshake... oh, and lest we forget, Knoxville is also a College town.... proud home of the glorious Tennessee Volunteers... so not only did I get the 17-19's, but also the 20-23's... as you can imagine, sipping an ice cold drink in front of Victoria's Secret was not at all a bad place to pass forty-five minutes.... and nary an ugly maiden passed before those gates, dear ones... indeed, as those waspish lasses exited the shop, they'd inevitably lay eyes upon the redheaded reprobate sipping his slushy... who, I might add, was sporting an enormous grim..

... bliss... total and unabashed... a milkshake and lingerie does a body good... well, at least my body.... we even felt the occasional stirrings....

... anyway, two things did intrigue me about the whole scenario... namely, that they must make Victoria's knickers out of air or something... a 5'3" maiden would enter and freshly exit with a bag the size of an apricot... sure, it sparked a lot for my imagination.. but, really... what kind of underwear could you possibly buy that would fit in such a small bag?... the mind, she does wander with possibilities... also, and here is the kicker.... as the ladies would exit, sometimes we'd accidentally make eye contact.... hey, it's not like I was staring, or anything... I was just quietly sipping my shake and minding my own business.. but many of the girls young women would blush.... almost as if they were embarrassed at being caught carrying their exotic unmentionables away... either that, or they thought I was being a total pervert..

... damn, what a day.. I've never been a huge fan of shopping... or the whole mall scene... but I am swiftly developing a newly found appreciation for late-Summer shopping... and all of the unexpected treats that it can offer... that milkshake was the bomb...

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by Eric | Permalink | Bullshit(22) | TrackBack (3) | Psycho Rants
» Naked Villainy links with: Around the Blogosphere
» A Swift Kick & A Band-Aid links with: The Perfect Panty
» Boudicca's Voice links with: Women's Undergarment Link Fest Plus Some

gone hunting....

... today I'll be heading northwards for a therapeutic hunting expedition... booze, sneakers, landscaping stone, Godiva chocolates, and a three-star lunch are all on the list of baggable game... you know, the indispensables.... the season is open, people.... besides, nothing says decadence like hemorrhaging wads of cash on frivolities while basking in the glow of unemployment.... and I know much you rubberneckers like to see decadence here... indeed, the things I put myself through for you guys... truly, it sucks to be me...

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Bullshit...

... I've been searching for the past half-hour for a decent clip of Jerry Clowers... either the "knock'em out, John", or "the coon hunting monkey"... my intention was to use a random clip as a demonstration of Southern Comedic Genius to my unimpressed Scottish Wife... so far, no joy... and with that, I call bullshit...

... sure, we all often wax poetic and long-winded about the massive social changes, sweeping media upheavals, and general feel-good factor that this new medium - THE INTERNET - has brought about... but we're all wrong.. what a load of horseshit... look, until I can downloading free Jerry Clower clips with ease, this whole internet thing just sucks ass...

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