Whoosh....

.... up, up, and away, children... up, up, and away... damn, where is my cape?... ahh, who needs it anyway....

... y'all play nice now... I'm off to Tejas to remind them about the importance of Tennesseans... the spirit of Crockett lives, people... at least for a weekend....

... still, I've heard they are a hard-headed bunch... so it may take some time.... but if I ain't back in a week, muster the troops and come a'lookin'....

Tangerines...

... boy howdy, I'm excited.. don't I look excited?... mercy, I sure am...

.. I was bouncing off the walls this morning trying to get everything ready for the trip tomorrow, and the Wife finally says.. "dammit!... quit fidgeting so much!... do something useful!.. "... so naturally I swooped into snogging mode... this wasn't shined on, and instead I was told to go shopping as we were out of coffee...

... I started rushing around, putting my shoes on, getting everything ready... the Missus sat on the couch drawing up the shopping list and watching Con Air (she's a huge Nicolas Cage fan)...

... anyway, cut to the chase... I'm wandering up and down the aisles of the supermarket crossing things off the list... coffee, ground beef (I'm grilling burgers tonight), cigarettes, tonic water, and tangerines...

... so I get back home and I'm sitting on the deck with sewing-machine leg and biting my fingernails... when suddenly the Missus comes out and says to me... "hey, baby... what's with the bag of oranges?.. ".... "ahh, sorry... they didn't have any tangerines... so I bought oranges instead... "...

... "okay... but WHY did you buy a whole bag of oranges when we're flying to Scotland on Tuesday?... we'll never eat them all between now and then.. "...

... "they were on the list you gave me, dear... that's why I bought them.. right below coffee, you had written tangerines.."...

... "huh?... I didn't write tangerines... "...

... "here," says I, digging into my jeans pocket for the list, "right here... see?... it says tangerines... "...

... walking slowly over to my chair, she leaned in and read the note... looked up at me and smiled... "that says tranquilizers, dear... you are in desperate need of them... "...

... ouch... so yeah, she was trying to be funny... tranquilizers, indeed.... but now we have this gigantic bag of oranges on the bar in the kitchen...

... damnation... anyone in Austin want an orange tomorrow?... I've got plenty to go around....

Nuts...

... further to an old theme, today's Quote comes from RSM...

.... he was a pretty good looking squirrel himself. Kinda beefy even... you know... the way macho squirrels can be. I imagine any fluffy-tailed mistress would have been happy with him. But maybe fluffy doesn't work for him....

.. go now and read the whole thing... sure, it is disturbing.. but what were you expecting?... this IS the internet after all....

Inspiration...

... tonight's pleasantry is from my homeboy Mr. Service.... one of the reasons I started this blog to begin with, he is...and I have been sorely negligent over the past few months in not visiting with him often enough... he's plain and he has a sense of humor... I'm down with that... as usual, feel free to read it out loud... you'll enjoy it more if you do... I promise...

... from Songs of a Sun Lover.. published in 1949...

Inspiration, by R. W. Service....

How often have I started out
With no thought in my noodle,
And wandered here and there about,
Where fancy bade me toodle;
Till feeling faunlike in my glee
I've voiced some gay distiches,
Returning joyfully to tea,
A poem in my britches.

So I'll go forth with mind a blank,
And sea and sky will spell me;
And lolling on a thymy bank
I'll take down what they tell me;
As Mother Nature speaks to me
Her words I'll gaily docket,
So I'll come singing home to tea
A poem in my pocket.

... nice, no?.... hey, I like it.... but the problem is, there seems to be a shortage of thymy slopes around these parts...

Waaay back...

... ten years and fifty pounds ago... top-roping in Friockheim at Legaston Quarry...

... wow... I've packed on the weight since then...

Falling...

.... back in my younger days, I dabbled in rock climbing....it was something that initially was alien to me.. having no knowledge of ropes, harnesses, or knots.... and also, being as incredibly afraid of heights as I was, it was 100% New Ground for me.... but it was an incredible learning experience... balance, feeling a crease, reading the rock, and being unafraid to reach out, hold on, and pull yourself upwards... it was something new...

... a friend of mine in Alaska started me off gently... he showed me how it was done.... clinging by sore fingertips and pushing upwards on 1/4 inch toeholds.... forgetting that your fingers were bleeding and your muscles were in spasm... Ballet on a Vertical Plane, he called it... and although I felt it was somewhat more dangerous than ballet, I never disagreed.... after all, I was the student......

... he laughed once when I was performing a layback on a vertical crack at about fifty feet... I jammed my hand into the rock and made a fist... twisted it slightly and leaned back... my eyes searched upwards for the next hold while my right hand dropped down to the small of my back where the chalk bag sat.... one foot on the rock... one hand paining as it held my weight... I looked up and chalked my next hand while my right leg arched back for balance...

... I heard Sam laughing down at the belay point... "That's IT, Eric.. you got it!.... and hey, it doesn't matter if you stick that next move or not.. that was fucking awesome... " .... I looked down at him, momentarily distracted, the five-foot overhang looming above me ... "huh?... what the fuck are you talking about, Sam?.. I want to get to the top... shut the hell up, you are distracting me.."...

... "you're missing the point, killer," he yelled up at me, tightening the belay rope... "that kicked ass, just now... see, it isn't HOW you climb... but how you LOOK while you climb... and just now, well, you kicked this wall's ass... you were relaxed.. you were in control... you were focused... and THAT is the point.. even if you fall now, you were there, man.." ....

.. I never really understood what he meant by that, but I used the same terms when I started teaching my Scottish friends to climb two years later...

.... grace, focus, ballet on a vertical plane... sure, it matters if you make it to the top... but it is much more important for you to comfortable with the situation you are in... namely, hanging by a thread with burning muscles halfway up the face of a cliff...

... yesterday, that was been driven home to me again....

... something drew me to dig out my old climbing shirt.... just a simple white cotton long-sleeved shirt.. the front adorned with a red embroidered "Aum" symbol.. and the Eyes of Buddha on the back.... now, I'm no Buddhist... but I did spend the better part of this afternoon watching my Wife rescue wandering caterpillars and ensconce them in nearby trees as I sipped gin.... so I do feel a bit kindred.... on a purely existential level....

.. but other things too, have dredged up these memories.. memories of old tee-shirts and continually reaching... unafraid...

.... sometimes it doesn't matter if you fall, I guess... it just matters that you tried... and that you enjoyed one incredible time while you were there.... after all, conquering fears is not an easy thing.... if it were easy, it would not be called "conquering" to begin with....

.... still, it's not all goodness... there is nothing like that pinch in the groin that you feel once your fall ceases...... that sudden stop when the rope saves you.... and you swing suspended, grinning like an idiot.... muscles tired, lungs burning, adrenalin coursing through your veins from the unexpected fall.... and all you want to do is swing back in and give it another try....

... I went to sleep last night thinking of that... falling... and this morning it is still here...

Heat....

... the jungle is back now.... green and damp and impenetrable.... rising up on three sides of my humble home, it has fully recovered from Winter's sleep... lush and vibrant and buzzing with a million insects, it is back for another few months...

... standing in the kitchen this morning looking out at it, it seemed almost frightening to me.... Spring is blooms and buds... but Summer is broad leaves fighting the slow strangulation as vines writhe in the undergrowth....

... steamy, sweaty, tangled, overwhelming....

... damn, I am depressed...

.. y'all have a nice day...

Hope...

... today's light reading has been focused on the mythical First Woman On Earth.... Pandora...

... now, like most peeps, I've gone through my quiet little life knowing very little about Pandora... the most famous thing, of course, is her infamous box.. (it seems stange to think of that, doesn't it?... "hey, bud, what do you know about this Pandora chick?"... "not much, man, but she has a really, really famous box..) ... is "box" on your list, Elisson?...

.. anyway, I digress... so, Pandora was created the gods on Mt Olympus as a punishment to mankind... the world back then was totally populated with Men, evidently, and Prometheus was responsible for that... Zeus got pissed and told everyone to get together and create a woman to irritate all the men... bingo, up pops Pandora... pretty bad rap for the First Woman On Earth, eh?..

... so last night over a bacon sandwich, I asked the classically educated Wife what was supposed to have been in Pandora's Box.. her answer was telling, people, but wrong... she cocked her head and thought for a second or two as finished her mouthful of bacon, and then said... "all of the temptations of the world"... good answer... and delivered with a self-confident certainty...

... I was impressed... some box, I thought... no WONDER she peeked inside...

... but today I found the real answer... it wasn't temptations at all... but all of the bad things that mankind had yet to deal with... plague, death, crime, bad breath... and lastly, hope; the reconciler....

... pretty cool tale when you stop to think about it... all that nasty stuff crammed into the same box with "hope"... as if the mere idea that "looking on the bright side" can conquer all of the other bad shit in the world....

... those Greeks, they could talk a good talk... I hope they are right about hope, though...

Crabs...

... well, today has been just full of little surprises... and you know, that's just wonderful.... sure, one would imagine that it would be hard to scare up enough mischief on a quiet Sunday evening... leisurely sipping iced-tea on a secluded woodland deck.... but then, one would be wrong...

... I received a call around noon with a command on how dinner arrangements should be... hey, I'm cool with that... and the menu item?... what delectable meal was requested?... a bacon sandwich.... yes, people, a bacon sandwich...

... good God, I love my life... my Missus wants a bacon sandwich for dinner... Kaiser roll, hickory-smoked bacon fried crisp, freshly sliced onion, slabs of 12-month old English cheddar, lashings of mayonnaise.... it is a thing of beauty, gentle reader, it really is....

... oh, and when I reached into the fridge for the bacon a few minutes ago I saw a large container full of Cajun crab dip... swiftly reaching the end of its shelf-life... so what did I do?... hmmm?...

... well, Fred and Ginger are slurping it up right now out on the porch.... heh heh... those kitties don't know what they're in for later tonight.... the poor little dears....

... you know, it really is hard to have fun in a place like this.. but I do try so very hard to keep myself entertained...

Hair...

... sitting out on the deck just now enjoying the sunshine, I noticed that the breeze was tickling my shoulders slightly... at first I thought it must have been an insect that had lighted there... but as I craned my neck around to look, I noticed that my shoulder was covered with extremely short, fine hair....

... amazing... I'd never noticed that before....

... so I began scoping out my chest and arms... and sure enough, they are all covered with the same fine hairs... except for the area of my arms down from mid-bicep.. there the hair is nearly an inch long.. but still very fine and blondish-red... in the sunlight, the almost appeared as copper...

... my chest is barren like my shoulders... excepting for the tiny hairs that I didn't know existed until a few minutes ago.... my abdomen, too, is relatively hairless... until the northernmost beginning of the Happy Trail just above my navel...

... and it was at this point in my observations that my finger absentmindedly found its way to my left nostril and explored slightly... nudging an errant hair back into line, grasping it, straightening it, and then plucking it out.... and as you do in situations like that, I inspected it... coarse, wiry and dark red... totally opposite to the baby-like ones being touched by the wind on my shoulders... it was pretty damn interesting, let me tell you...

.. obviously this led me to explore further... so I dropped trou out on the deck and compared the nasal hair to my pubic area... not a match, I'm happy to report... but then again, the hair in that area was totally unlike either my shoulderhair, armpit hair, chesthair, or armhair...

... it was quite perplexing, standing there with my pants down on the deck with the breeze tousling my fuzzy body... I mean, does anyone know about this?.. exactly how many different types of hair do us humans have on our bodies?...

Other people's pants...

... a few things that have been bouncing around in my noggin as the birds fight in the back yard and I drink coffee and laugh...

.... first, Big Stupid Tommy and his bees... the boy just ain't right... then again, most people in my general vicinity ain't...

... secondly, I can cook one helluva porkloin...

... and lastly, I'm finally wearing those jeans I bought at a yardsale last summer... and it really feels strange to be swinging around in someone elses pants... but they do fit pretty good... and they were only five bucks.... of course, I had to take the scissors to the legs though and chop off about two inches... hey, I'm stylin'...

... well, not really stylin'... but as good as I can be with five dollar pants on a Sunday morning...

1 Week....

.... looks like the last of the storms are over for the next few days... thunder broke the morning, but now the Sun is shining bright.... the rain and wind of Wednesday and Thursday has stripped the dogwoods of their flowers, and it seems that almost overnight lush green leaves have sprouted in their place...

... spent most of today watching the Milblog Conference live-cast over the internet.... good stuff, people... each of the three panels did an excellent job... and the first part of Col. Hunt's session was classic... the man knows how to work a panel, that's for sure... a day well spent....

... also, I've got family coming for dinner and a giant porkloin is marinating in the fridge... in an hour or so, it will be joined by a salad and a steaming scoop of scalloped potatoes.... after all, I gotta build up my strength this week...

... why?... well, this time next week I'll be hanging with some fine people in Austin, Texas..... and good God, I can't wait....

Swamped...

... well, boys and girls, I've spent an unbelievably enjoyable afternoon out on the deck with Melpomene, Erato, and a bottle of Czechoslovakian Absinthe... and Hell, it's only 6:15!.... it has been touch and go for a while now... but if I'm not dead by 10pm, all will be well... (wow... I sure have talked a lot about being dead lately.. must be a phase of the Moon or something)..

... anyway, word-up, people... it does not do for me to try to write Erotica... I am too easily swayed, I'm afraid... and it really isn't pretty... shiny things distract me.. and when you start writing about Adult Situations, well, everything tends to get a sheen on it....

... but in other news, well, by now the Milblog drunkfest icebreaker will be in full swing.. and I can't wait to see them on CSPAN tomorrow looking all hungover.... It should be a riot...

... Bitterman is dealing with his demons as only he can... and by that, I mean letting them run rampant....

... Velociman is mourning the passing of a legend...

... and Acidman is celebrating Earth Day in his own special style...

... hey, I'd link more great posts here, but I still ain't finished with spanking Melpomene while Erato looks on and masturbates....

... it is a hard, hard row I hoe, children.. it really is....

Blossoms...

... reading history books can sometimes be dry... the tales of battles, blunders, or politics are often boiled down to their essentials.. names, dates, general outcome, etc.. and much is left over for the reader to place between the lines... but today I was reminded of one of the most incredible historical descriptions I've ever read....

... this was all triggered by another storm running though today... as I was straightening myself from the flowerbed, I remembered something that I had long ago forgotten...

... the wind picked up and I heard a peal of thunder.. and as I rounded the corner of the house, a stiff breeze hit one of the dogwood trees and knocked every petal off of every bloom in the same instant.... I stood there watching the hundreds of broken flowers dance horizontally towards me and I remembered Shiloh...

... April of 1862... the Confederates charging, regrouping, and charging again through The Peach Orchard.. hundreds of trees fully in bloom... and Union bullets clipping them from the branches as the Confederates came on... wave after wave against the Union defenses until they finally broke....

... what a surreal moment that must have been.... the dead and dying staring skyward... and fighting men struggling forward as the delicate white petals landed all around them... shrapnel, bullets, and the Blooms of Spring....

... you don't often read stuff like that in history books... but when you do, it makes quite an impression....

10:29AM...

... damn, I'm really hungry... I think I should probably eat something...

Blame...

... wow... a few minutes ago I was sure I was dying.... I was picturing it all... Bird Flu!... Ebola!... Heart Attack!... Blood Clot!.... and now I'm being told it's just a rash... and that I should just take a Benadryl and hush...

... oh yeah, I'm feeling the love...

... but hey, if I DO die, be it known that the blame rests solely on the shoulders of The Wife and RSM... she made the diagnosis and he backed her up via phonecon when I didn't believe her...

.. so when I start hemorrhaging from every orifice later tonight and coughing up hunks of semi-liquefied internal organs, be sure to tell the CDC investigators that it was their fault....

Smoked Turkey...

... a storm thundered through a few minutes ago and I went out to the garage to commune with it... as I pressed the button that slides the door up, a gust of wind pushed a few discarded dogwood blossoms across the cement and underneath the pool table as I watched on... warm and moist, the air was.. and then the rain came...

.. it fell slowly at first, but landed hard... huge raindrops that swooshed as they flew... and then they arrived faster and faster until the first furtive thumps became a roar of water meeting soil...

... I pulled a lawn chair open and sat it just out of reach of the splashing... and I lit up a cigarette just as the thunder started....

... smoking in the rain is a strange thing... the air seemed to grasp the smoke and hold it still.. impregnating it with moisture and then dragging it towards the ground, heavy... as if nothing could rise up through the falling rain...

... coffee and cigarettes and rain... and now the sky is clearing and I've just come inside... the storm is gone..

... I think I'll make a sandwich...

Dreams...

... last night marked the end of an era.... the passing of an age.... my days of wallowing in the restless sleep of a deviated septum are at an end.... or so I am led to believe...

.. .that's right, kiddies... tonight the technicians visit my humble home bearing a sweet, sweet gift... and much like Balthazar leaning over the infant Jesus, I too shall be presented with an offering from a magician... one that will carry me away on technological wings to the Peace of Sleep... and I shall dream heavenly dreams....

... so yeah... the guys are installing my CPAP machine today at 4... and with any luck, I shall snore no more forever...

... I'm stoked... can you tell?...

Creme....

... earlier today I ventured into the town to do some husbandly shopping.... groceries, people.... jam, peanut butter, bread, luncheon meat, fresh flowers, washing liquid, beer, tonic water, sweet pickles, a bag of onions, milk... you know, the usual stuff...

.. but knowing that my Beloved was working her little fingers to the bone only a few miles away, and surrounded by her worker colony of females, well, I caved... and I bought a fresh Boston Crème Cake from the deli of the supermarket....

... you guys have no idea how many tiny orgasms were triggered by me walking into the shop with that cake in my hands....

... it was amazing..... worker-women appeared from every aisle... every corner....and some even snuck up behind me....

... I don't think they get out much, honestly.... I mean, by the way they acted over me randomly bringing them a sweet cake, you would think the poor darlings had been sugar-starved for weeks....

... still, it was nice to know that I could create such a pleasurable working environment by just bringing in a five dollar cake... and the chocgasms that followed were only a bonus....

... sheesh... and you guys think I live a boring life....

Poetry...

Ode To The Frog Whom I Dislodged Unceremoniously By Accident From The Outdoor Light Fixture With The Garden Hose Yesterday While Washing The Deck In The Cool Of The Evening And Nursing A Large Aberlour

Wee little froggie who camps in my lamp
I am so very sorry for making you damp
The jet of water was positioned to wash away crud
Not bring you to Earth with a squeak and a thud

Had I known where you rested, I'd have tread more lightly
But didn't the house gleam and glow spotless and brightly?
We each have to give in our own little ways
To ensure the Good Service in these halcyon days

Much like Rabbie Burns' to his Mouse, I invaded your space
And indeed, I am sorry, but you should have seen your face!
Bug-eyed and beautiful, you croaked loud with surprise
And I am so very sorry I scared away all your flies

The End

Limp....

... yeah, yeah... I know you guys were worried sick... wringing your hands and nibbling your cuticles in anticipation of my demise at the claws of a wild beast...

... fat chance... the varmint has not yet been hatched that can tree me, folks... especially when I'm packing heat...

... nah... actually, that's not true at all... when the moment of truth came, I decided that discretion was the better part of valor and beat feet back inside to download Eastern European porn.... what?... hey, I had to do something to keep my mind off of the unknown beast that was lurking under my floor boards...

... anyway, whatever it was is gone now... if I had to guess, I'd say it was a bobcat... I caught a glimpse of it last night as it dodged my flashlight beam and it was definitely a lot bigger than a house cat...

... so, as much as I'd like to report that I bagged the culprit, I have to say instead that no animals were harmed in the making of this blog entry...

... oh, and another thing... I'm beginning to see a worrying pattern emerging here at the SWG Compound.... not only did I chicken out when faced with the prospect of wrestling a bobcat bare-handed, but I just had a salad for lunch too... I'm telling you, people, it's all downhill from here... next thing you know, well, I'll be getting a manicure...

Flashlight...

... it is dusk... something is under my house... and it is really, really pissed off...

... it screamed at me as I was unloading the dishwasher a few minutes ago and scared the Jeebus out of me... it sounded like it was right below me... just under the floor...

... so that rules out a possum, as they normally just hiss... and 'coons just chirp and gurgle and chatter.... and both cats are in the garage looking frightened.... so I have no idea what it is....

.. we'll find out soon enough, I guess... if y'all don't hear back from me, then it was a bobcat and I'm under the floor bleeding to death...

... damn, maybe I should take my new Rosary with me...

Hose...

... one of my labors today was to hose off the deck and prepare it for this season's sitting.. and the job is done... two things though, were noticed as I stood bare-chested with hose in hand... firstly, there is a species of tree - Tennessee's state tree - whose seedpods are the most irritating shape that I have ever seen... and they jam themselves perfectly into the gaps between my choicedek planks and have to be removed by hand....

... and secondly, it is a miracle that there are any species of butterfly existing on the planet... seriously... have you ever watched one fly?... see, today has been windy and hot with a steady 20mph breeze pressing in from the west... and as I stood out there hosing down the World, all these butterflies were attracted to the mist being kicked up by the wind's buffeting of the streaming water...

... so there I stood while these giant Monarchs and Zebra Swallowtails drunkenly dive-bombed into the swirling mist... and just as they would emerge from the rainbow, the wind would hurl them up through the trees... and as if by magic, none of them got smashed into a branch... it was amazing... and then - at forty-feet - they would spiral back down towards Earth against the wind for the scene to start over...

... I swear, those varmints must be protected by a higher power... because, well, they certainly fly with a deathwish...

... anyway, I washed off the deck today.... I just thought I'd let y'all know...

... oh, and was it wrong of me to make the wind possesive in the run-on sentence at the end of the second paragraph?...

In the Mail...

... mercy... I now own a Rosary... it arrived in the mail yesterday from somewhere in Indiana... the box had a color photo of Pope John Paull II on it... and the rosary itself is decorated with red beads and medallions featuring John Paul II... and as a complete kicker, there was a handy-dandy booklet enclosed that provided the proper directions for saying the Rosary prayers...

... are the Catholics looking to sign me up?... wow... I kinda like being actively recruited by a religion... and I guess this means I can stop trying to learn Yiddish now... hell, those bastards never sent me shit....

... but the Big Question does remain, though... who sent it to me?... perhaps I'm on some charity mailing list... then again, maybe it's from an anonymous blogreader who is feeling my need for redemption... but having it arrive the day before Easter?... talk about a good marketing campaign.. it even came with a little leather bag (with zipper) to keep it stored it... "My Rosary" emblazoned in gold lettering across the leather... you know, just in case you forget what's in the bag...

... I am thankful, though... as my collection has been lacking a Rosary ever since I began it... it'll make a nice addition... and at long last my Ponca Indian war-rattle, embroidered kippah, and hand-filled mojo sack will not be alone...

... any port in a storm, people... you can never be too careful these days.... besides, it is best to keep your bases covered just in case you were mistaken...

Easter....

.... I worked up an incredible appetite this morning and ended up gorging myself at The Family's Easter Gathering.... turkey, dressing, fried okra, baked beans, mashed potatoes, country ham, buttered rolls, macaroni and cheese, and even a deviled egg.... all finished off with a big scoop of sweet potato pie...

... some mornings you just wake up insatiable, I guess... but like a good little boy, I did a pretty good job of cleaning my plate.. and now it is 4:30 in the afternoon and I'm still stuffed... what a memorable Easter...

... sat on the porch in a rocking chair and watched all the Mothers hide eggs around my Uncle's front yard.... then watched the young ones scurry around like their hair was on fire trying to "find" the most eggs.. it was a sight... laughing kiddies everywhere.... but I do believe that our generation has lost something in their ability to "hide" Easter eggs... goodness... from my perch on the porch, I could see at least fifteen eggs plainly... kids these days, they got it too easy... either that or the parents back when I was a kid just delighted in watching us scrounge for twenty minutes before finding an egg...

... still, plans are afoot tonight... the plan?... sit very still on the deck and sip iced tea until the Sun goes down..

... hey, I need to recover... it's been one helluva day....

Songwriters....

.... sitting in the garage with the door open and Townes Van Zandt's voice rolling out across the grass between the parked cars down towards the mailbox.... what an afternoon...

... "Pancho and Lefty" a few minutes ago... and right now, well, he's talking...

... it seems that when you listen to a songwriter performing their music, it always just makes more sense...

.... sure, some Big Star might come along later and re-record their song... and hey, they might make a million bucks.... but those songs have lost some of their bite at that point.... some of their soul.... when someone else records a songwriter's poetry, it loses a part of the writer's inflection....

... if you like a song, search out the writer.... and then listen to a recording of THEM playing it.... playing it as they meant it to be heard.... If you liked the song before, then more than likely you will LOVE the song after you have heard how it was supposed to be played.... often with just a guitar and a singer on stage....

... I think that is why I like Townes, Prine, Zevon, and Waits... their voices may not be the most melodic out there... and their deliveries might be less polished... but when others cover their tunes, well, they soften the edges.... and it is those very edges that make the songs to begin with.... those edges connect the song and songwriter....

... wow.... right now, he is almost finished with "If I Needed You".... a great love song.... Loop and Lil were parakeets?... that is wonderful... see?.. THAT is the beauty of hearing a song being sung by the writer rather than just the smooth cover artist.... when Townes sings it, he connects.... he wrote it while his parakeets watched on..

... anyway, the ribs are almost done now... time to put the grill away... and it's time to eat.... g'night, boys and girls... thus endeth tonight's sermon.... If you want the coolest water, you gotta find the source.....

... by the way, hit Mr. Hooker's tip jar if you like his music.... it's free until you feel guilty.... and he is a great songwriter....

Secrets...

... earlier this week, I let slip a secret to The Wife... nothing big, of course... but something that she had been unaware of through all these years of marriage...

... see, occasionally when we are discussing how we met, how we started dating, etc, she brings up the "missing two weeks"... these are, of course, the two weeks that passed from the time she gave me her number until I finally called and asked her out... no biggie, right?... ladies?.. is two weeks too long to wait to call a girl after she's given you her number?...

... anyway, it was nothing clandestine... I was busy with honest toil for those two weeks and didn't have the time.... but does she believe me?... not really... I think she is under the impression that I was pubcrawling and incessantly trawling for poontang for those two weeks... and when I failed miserably, I finally broke down and gave her a jingle...

... but as I said, nothing could be further from the truth.... and while we were chilling in Chili's awaiting the arrival of Liv on Tuesday, she brought up the missing two-weeks again... and that is when I laughingly mentioned that the only person I ever even considered going out with while in Scotland (and before meeting her) was Jacqueline Dunne...

... big mistake, campers... for I had unknowingly let slip a secret that I had naturally assumed she was already privy to... namely that I had performed a flawless full-court press on a cute English stewardess on the flight up from Heathrow to Aberdeen... and had, in fact, exchanged numbers with her... even going as far as to ask her to ring me up when she next found herself in Aberdeen..

... seven days into my duty though, I met the soon-to-be Missus and all was set...

... no harm, no foul... right?... but here is where the penny dropped... I carried on the conversation... and told her that I had arrived home one night after one of our steamy dates and was greeted by a message stuck to my bunk...

... "hey, hammerhead! .. some Brit chick named Jacqueline Dunne called and left a message while you were out on the town... she says she's at The Carlton in Aberdeen and wants you to give her a call"...

... uh huh... your humble SWG was getting a booty call.... but did I call the delightful Ms. Dunne?.. the hot, alabaster-skinned, doe-eyed stewardess who was in town for only one night and wanted my gentlemanly company?... probably for wild, tear-you-hair out, sweaty, no-questions-asked, monkey sex?...

... nope...no, Sir.... I did not make the call... but after telling the story on Tuesday, well, I think that I should have probably told The Missus about it before waiting through 12 years of marriage...

Lunch....

... you know, say what you will about all the illegals in our country, but I can only speak for myself...

... see, my sleepy county here in East Tennessee is home to quite a few fence-jumpers and some of the best nachos north of Guadalajara..

... and were someone to round up all of these wily culinary conquistadors, well, part of me would be deeply, deeply sad to see them go....

.. I mean, just imagine a world with no nachos... we'd be forced to start eating those round tortilla flakes with the melted cheese whiz that they serve for 99 cents at the Mr. Zip....

... and that would be horrible day for this American...

... look, I'm no politician... but it seems to me that our priorities are just totally messed up when we talk about immigration... and as for me, well, they can take my nachos when they pry them from my cold, dead hands...

... and that's all I have to say about that...

... and by the way, I will be recycling some old posts over here for Bejus this weekend...

Digging...

... lawn work is not my strongest suit... and that is putting it mildly... but today is the day for some major reconstructive surgery... out with the old, gnarled, and dead... in with the new, fresh, and perky...

... damn, I can't believe I just used the term ˜perky'... I really need to expand my vocabulary more...

... ahhh... there is something wonderfully reaffirming about getting a little dirt under your fingernails from time to time... not that I'd want to make a habit of it, of course, but I'm just saying... it's good for The Soul... in nice bite-sized chunks of moderation... oh, and when there are lots of breaks for iced tea and cigarettes in the shade...

Bugs....

... grill duty tonight.... and for a change of pace, it's burgers instead of steak or ribs... fine by me, actually... I've been craving a grilled burger ever since I read this post about militant vegans... and yes, I'll be packing heat... just in case the smell of searing flesh brings one of them out of the local woodwork... you can't really be too careful these days...

... been sitting on the deck soaking up the Sun most of the afternoon.. wearing my Amish underwear and slowly massacring four different species of wasps as they try to chew on my old, dead umbrella plant... I suppose they are just using the pulp to build their nest somewhere... but not on my watch... I killed that plant for a reason... and it was not to be used as nesting material for beasties.....

... chemical weapons and a flyswatter, people... hey, life's hard around these parts... especially for a stinging insect...

... anyway, I'm just in to get dressed and start prepping the meat... time to shift gears to something different but equally enjoyable.... and dinner is to be served promptly at 6:15...

... the stereo in the garage is currently pumping out "Goin' Out West" and the grill is warming up... I have a feeling it's gonna take a while to burn all the leftover barbecue sauce and pork fat off of the racks.... but that's alright... I have plenty of time..

Seasick...

.... Rob brought up a not-so-fond memory for me the other day.... sea sickness.... specifically, he asked for people to tell their stories of sailoring woe..

... now, I'm not much of a sailor... I come from a long, long line of guys who could barely even swim.. hillbillies, farmers, ridge runners, etc... not much call for being able to swim when the only water you ever get into is the six inches you run into your bath at night... sure, they could climb trees, jump ditches, and ride horses... but they steered clear of The Ocean...

... I traveled far and wide as a young man and relished the thought of doing new things... so when I found myself on an island off the coast of Siberia at 19 years of age, I leapt at the chance to head out into the Bering Sea with a group of my mates to hunt halibut....

... I remember starting out of Kuluk Bay that day... everyone else was in the cabin escaping the freezing wind... but I was hanging over the edge of the railings watching the two orcas who were following our boat.. big, meaty beasts with eyes that seemed to wink at me every time they surfaced just yards from our craft....

... the Captain of the little 30ft boat slid open the door and yelled out to me... "better get in here, Lance Corporal.. the weather says we're going to hit some rough stuff as we round Cape Adagdak.. "...

... I left the gaze of the killer whales and staggered into the warm cabin... and along with the other five "fishermen", I listened to the Captain verify weather reports....

.. it seems that the weather front was coming in from the Southeast... and was coming up behind us as we skirted the edge of the island heading northward... finally the grizzled sailor looked at us and said, "boys, we've got a decision to make... with the storm coming the way it is, if we round the Cape, we are committed to going all the way around the island to get home... if we don't round the Cape, we can turn back and be back in Sweeper's Cove in an hour..."..

... someone piped up, "so the fishing is off for today?"...

... the Captain grinned and shook his head... ".. just you wait and see... there will be no fishing today... we need to get back to the harbor... "...

... we turned south into the storm a few minutes later..

... at first, I was terrified... a 30ft boat smashing into 20 and 30ft waves... water crashing over the entire boat.. the ship being tossed sideways.. the groaning of the engine as it struggled to push the boat forward against the raging wind... I just knew we were going to die... but like I said, I am not much of a sailor...

... after twenty minutes of being brutalized by the Bering, I started to feel the first rumblings of seasickness... and then, with an incredible swiftness, it set in..

... someone else already had their head buried in the boat's commode... so the First Mate handed me a bucket that they had used to hold halibut bait... and as horrible as that prospect sound, I didn't care...

... never in my life have I ever felt such an overwhelming apathy... I did not care if the boat sank... I didn't care that the water would kill me in three minutes because it was so cold... I didn't care that I was puking onto three-day old chunks of baitfish... I didn't care about anything... I was too consumed with the lolling and rolling of my head and stomach... it was almost like being sedated - and still unable to stop puking...

.... fortunately that was the only time I've ever been through the effects of seasickness.... and I hope I never hit those same high notes ever again...

... but I do so still love me some halibut steaks...

Leigh..

... a few weeks ago I was forced to sit through Hitchcock's "Psycho" again... the Wife being a huge fan of anything remotely Hitchcockian, any time his stuff comes on the television, well, I'm forced to watch...

.... I found it really interesting that she commented on how pretty she thought Janet Leigh was when she was checking into the Bates Motel - just before she was brutally stabbed to death by a cross-dressing serial killer.. I told her then that she just didn't do it for me....

... but this morning as she was eating breakfast the television was playing "Two Tickets to Broadway", and who should be appearing as a fresh-faced brown-haired beauty?... Janet Leigh... check this out... here she is as a blonde in the same 1950's timeframe...

... not bad, eh?.... she looks a lot more sultry ala 1951 than she did when checking into that roadside hotel.... oh, and I had no idea that she was Momma to Jamie Lee Curtis!... by the way, did y'all know that genetically, well, Jamie is actually intersexed?.. after watching her dance on "True Lies", I could have sworn that was 100% woman...

... could have fooled me...

Miss Liv....

... I had the pleasure of buying dinner and drinks for a lovely young lady last night... and people, Liv from Not a Shrinking Violet is most definitely NOT a shrinking violet... boys, she has it all... pretty, intelligent, witty, and small enough you could pick her up and put her easily into your pocket for quick traveling if necessary...

... actually, that was the first topic we broached... me telling her that I had imagined her taller... and her retorting that she'd imagined me smaller.. hmmm.... I guess my blog makes me seem short... I'll have to work on that...

... still, it was a real pleasure to meet her and I wished we'd had more time.... but that is always the way with meeting interesting people... there is never enough time... plus, how many times do you get to sit around with a beautiful woman, drink beer, and compare knife wound scars?!?...

... that, people, is my kinda gal.... thanks, Liv... the Wife and I had a great time... come back and see us again...

Roadtrip...

... well, well... looks like Elisson and I are both quite the babysitters of blogdom... we should go into business... blogging got you down?... work taking all your time?... Hell, just toss us the keys and we'll be sure to disappoint....

... but he has posted a splendid idea over at Velociworld, though... and me?... well, I'm scratching a few lines in the dust over at Cadillac Tight... you know, the usual stuff... King Kong, Sex, the Great Mysteries of Language, nothing too strenuous...

... anyway, the Wife and I are off shortly to buy dinner for the young lady who runs Not a Shrinking Violet.. and it involves a bit of a roadtrip... but it will be well worth the effort...

... that said, I'll be sure to give you rubberneckers a full rundown once I get back... until then, head over to Velociword and join the Carnival of the Undraped Torso... you know you want to... and hey, we want to see ˜em.. after all, it's the natural progression of blogging...

Sweetgums...

... the half-acre of back yard that I have is dotted with trees... tall, slim pin oaks, tulip poplars, maples, sweetgums, and short, squat dogwoods.... the poplars are budding now and their tulip-like blooms give off a purplish tint against the sky... the dogwood's white flowers are everywhere... the maples are coming on too, but their leaves are being born burgundy this year... the whole collection creates a kind of strata as you tilt your head upwards... white, green, then a deep reddish hue... and then purple... what a great time of year..

... the guys came around and mowed my lawn yesterday while I tended some phone calls... they were working as a team as I watched out of the kitchen window... one man riding the lawn tractor and the other wandering from tree to tree and shrub to shrub with a weed-eater doing his thing... all was going as planned until the man on the mower plowed by the stand of sweetgums... now, for those of you who are unfamiliar with sweetgum seedpods, let me try to describe them... they are brown, hard, and the size of a golfball... and on top of that, they are covered in spines... as if, by some evolutionary mistake, a porcupine could lay eggs... and if a porcupine COULD lay eggs, they'd look just like sweetgum seedpods...

... anyway, the blades of the mower caught the seedpods and launched them at an incredible speed... like a scene from David and Goliath... it was amazing... the poor guy with the weed-eater got pelted by a spray of sweetgum seedpods that could have put off a charging rhino.. a full spread, people.... probably fifty pods in the air at the same time... there was no escape and the guy just weathered the storm... it sounded not unlike a .30cal Browning firing off half a belt.. heh... and the next time the guy with the mower came around, weed-eater man hid behind a maple tree...

... in retrospect, I guess I should have raked them up before they arrived... but then again, where would have been the fun in that?... besides, I'm paying those fellows good money...

Half-Nekkid Monday

.... If it is good enough for Elisson, well hey.... it's good enough for me... behold the product of a mere two months of playing with Helga the Nordic Trak, chain smoking, and eating at least one fresh garden salad a week along with my cheeseburgers... sure, sure... no visible muscles yet... and my love handles are still in need of adjustment... but here you go... hell, give me another six months, people... I'll shape up nicely...

... and by the way, Elisson... what are you, sixty?... Jesus, man... I'm impressed, you big Jew Stud Hoss... I hope I look half as fit as you when I hit your age.... I seriously doubt it though... I mean, I imagine that the Wife will have strangled me in my sleep before I ever hit 40... or even 35, for that matter....

Wind Tunnels....

... g'night, gentle ones... I am off to spend the night with a CPAP machine... constantly under the gaze of a large and friendly man named Stan...

... I tell ya, it's sure hard to have fun in a place like this, but I give it one helluva effort...

...so y'all play nice while I'm away... and I'll tell you all about it when the Sun comes up....

... oh, and Liv?... call me first thing in the morning, please...

Rowhouseland....

... keeping a blog is a strange thing... it's a cross between a sociological trainwreck, abject voyeurism, ego management, creative writing, and total bullshit... and yet we continue... and long may it be so....

... but word, people... if you are going to bitch about blogging, then take advice from Rose.... even when she complains, she does it with style and grace.... just scroll down to her Parenting/Kafka section that she dug up from July of 2004...

... hey, pissed off at your blog?... Rose sets the example..

.... see, if you're going to bitch about something, at least be entertaining while you're doing it...

Weird....

...I am not a huge fan of feet... in my view, they rank right up there with ears as the two greatest abominations God laid down upon us mortal humans back in the day... feet and ears, people... when the Great Creator was patching our bodies together, I suspect that the feet and ears were designed late one night after he'd been juiced up while watching old re-runs of Celestial Saturday Night Live...

.. after all, today is Sunday... and as I sit here reading from the Book of Tom Waits in quiet introspection, my eyes have just fallen onto a gem from "Heartattack and Vine"...

... all rise..

"Don't you know there ain't no Devil, that's just God when he's drunk."

.. be seated, please...

... indeed, there may be some wisdom there from old Tommyboy... at least it would explain the huge jokes that are our feet and ears....

... anyway, in other news, the Wife informed me last night that I have prehensile toes.. I was sockless on the couch and performed a mighty stretch last night - the kind where you do the whole-body flex/writhe - and she barked, "EWWW you should have seen what your toes did!"... ahhh... the bliss of married life....

... and it was at that point that last night's weirdness began in earnest... suffice it to say though, yes, it appears that I can perform many tasks with my bony appendages.. everything from flipping the bird to sloppily picking up small objects and putting them on the ottoman...

... hey, who knew?... I sure didn't... but I always have imagined I was a man of many talents, I just never knew how strange some of those talents would turn out to be...

Colonial...

.... been cooking today, and the house reeks of curry powder, garlic, and coconut milk.... those poor, poor chicken breasts.... I imagine that never once in their entire little East Tennessee chicken lives did they ever imagine checking out this way... slowly percolating themselves off into that sweet oblivion that is korma...

.. my naan bread is a bust though... but hey, it always is.... but that doesn't stop me... nope... when it comes to eventually conjuring up the perfect naan bread, I am dogged in my efforts.... but I'm thinking that it takes some sort of celestial-aligning for me to get that crap to rise properly... perhaps a sacrifice of some sort... or maybe some chants or a tribal-style dance...

... anyway, I think I'll go and slip into my silk Punjabi and read some Kipling out on the patio... that always freaks the neighbors out... the Punjabi, that is, not the Kipling...

.... I do so love my Saturday afternoons....

Limbs....

... ouch... looks like Middle Tennessee got pummeled last night... here in the East, I went to sleep to thunder and lightning and high winds.... and this morning I wake to find that the storm didn't even blow the blooms off my magnolia...

... storms are funny that way... two miles from here there are trees down and limbs on the roads...

... hey, say what you will about hurricanes being massive, strong, and prolonged... but at least you know they're coming... tornadoes just sprout out of the sky and reach down indiscriminately... smashing the ever-loving crap out of whatever they hit in an act that seems purely random...

... and at least you can run from a hurricane... with tornadoes, you never know which direction to skedaddle towards...

Nature....

... storm is a'comin'.... be back later... maybe....

Little Friends....

... alright... I really didn't see this coming, but here it is.... lookit, women... every man on the planet has named his manly bit.... every single one of them... it's one of those cosmic constants... like water being wet and, well, you get the picture...

... for humor value, I suspect that we should probably delve a little further into this phenomena...

... so far, some bloggers have made it no secret as to the identity of their manhood.. Acidman/Roscoe... Velociman/Girth Vader... so we might as well make some sort of list for posterity... after all, blogging is really just kinda like sitting around and talking about your dick anyways, right?... well, whatever... and with that, here goes...

Acidman & Roscoe
Velociman & Girth Vader
RSM & Max
Me & Petey
GuyK & Little Richard
Redneck & Mr. Buddy
T1G & Oscar "Sluggo"
Hoosierboy & Clyde
Boudicca's Ex-boyfriend & Simba
Ironnerd & George (Of the Jungle)
Reader (And Marine) Oakleytexas & "Galllo del Cielo"
Johnny-Oh & Joey

.. any other guys (or gals) want to confess?...

... and pay attention, ladies... you may glean some wonderful insight into the minds of guys here... just by how they view their little man...

More on my crotch...

... success, she is sweet... a few weeks ago I was pretty damn bummed over the impending loss of my favorite jeans due to testicle-rubbage.... but today while sitting in the sunshine with The Wife on the deck, all is well...

... as I was cradling an assault rifle in one hand and a can of Balistol in the other, the Wife peeped up from her book and let her gaze slowly drop to my crotch... and then, of course, she laughed and went back to reading her book...

.. but hey, I know that you were worried about my jeans... and probably wondering how I would ever either 1.) fix the air-conditioned crotch, or 2.) live without my favorite denims....

... well, wonder no more, rubberneckers.... all is well... and you know what? ... I am pretty impressed with myself over coming up with the solution all on my own... yes, indeedy.... you guessed it, I now own a pair of underwear!!...

... and don't worry too much this time... I know last time a bunch of y'all freaked out... but this time, it is safer... Petey was tucked snugly beneath my hand...

.. anyway, at this rate I'll get at least another year or so out of the jeans.. and I'm one happy camper.... now all I have to do is get all of the gun oil stains off of them, and I'm set...

Work...

... with Spring comes cleaning... or so I am told.... and today is Gun Day....

... I've got to empty out the gun safe, gather all of my beloveds onto the deck, and give them all their springtime once-over...

... and just in case y'all think it is an idyllic thing, me sitting outside in the sun cleaning weapons, just trust me... it isn't... the following Works of Art are scheduled for their bi-yearly baths...

Rifles
1972 Winchester Model 94 30-30
Ruger .44mag Carbine
1967 Mossberg Model 640K "Chuckster" .22mag
Remington Model 700 "Mountain Rifle" .280
Busmaster AR-15 .223

Shotguns
Four damn 12 gauges

Pistoles
Beretta Cougar .45ACP
Beretta Model 86 Cheetah .380
1978 S&W "Highway Patrolman" .357
1990 Taurus Model 92AFD 9mm

... and that, children, is a lot of gun oil and elbow grease...

Curious...

... anyone who is curious about my taxes can read about it here.... in a strange kind of way....

... and hey, if I am not around here, I'll be over at Cadillac Tight keeping Bejus' seat warm...

H&R Block...

... well, today is tax day here at the house.... and I've spent the better half of the morning scrounging through various cupboards and drawers gathering up the Imperial Paperwork for inspection..

... this should be fun, actually... year before last, we were slam-dunked by the Taxman... last year we broke even... this year?... it should be interesting....

... there is nothing like watching a heavyset, spectacled, retired white woman diddling your numbers under Penalty of Law to get the old heart a'pumping... I'll be sure to let y'all know how it turns out...

Downtime...

... good morning, rubberneckers... I trust y'all slept well and had pleasant dreams...

... if not, well, it is probably because you each have a guilty conscience.. repent!... I'm hearing confessions in about half an hour.... and the line starts to the left..

... anyway, I just got a mail from Jimbo of The Rest Stop... his site is busted and he claims it isn't his fault.. which sounds dubious at best.... still though, he wanted me to be sure and tell you ˜tards that his site is down until further notice..

... so there, you have been told... and it is a pity, too... his story about Hector's Home-invading was quite popular...

... now, about those confessions.... you know you can trust Uncle Eric...

Footleather....

.... the internet is amazing.... it seldom ever ceases to astound me.... like today, for instance... it seems that my shoes are developing quite a fanbase around here... and hey, that's cool... heaven knows they are a lot more interesting than me anyway... besides, they totally are some kickass shoes... and they deserve all the praise they can get...

... and after Brother Phin's latest mention of my footwear, I suppose a little backstory is in order...

.. well, it all started one day back about a year ago... I was preparing for my Big Chicago Adventure with Blackfive, and I needed myself some bitchin' footwear to wear while cooling my heels in various Big City pubs and restaurant-type places.... so I decided upon a nice pair of H.S. Trask saddle shoes....

... next thing I know, I have a blogmeet here at my house back in October... and people are asking for a tour so they can see the legendary leathers in their comfy closet... you know who you are...

... ok, so now the shoes have quite a following... fast forward to January of this year... and after actually seeing them on my little feet, the silver-tongued Elisson writes a post specifically about my lovely shoes and how much he lusts for a pair...

... even the mighty Velociman once called me a metrosexual right to my face because of my shoes...

...good God.... I have the most popular pair of saddle shoes in the blogosphere, and I didn't even really try... amazing....

... anyway, head on over and buy yourself a pair of H.S. Trask, children.. you really won't regret it.. well, except for when everyone on your blogroll starts writing stories about your shoes all the time... but other than that?... hey, you'll like'em.... I sure do love mine.... but y'all knew that already....

Blue...

... up this morning early and greeted the dawn... watched the sky blue as the Sun came up over the mountain... an amazing color... and now that the ibuprofen has kicked in, I'm off to the nap on the couch... five hours of sleep just wasn't enough today....

... but looking at the sky just now, wow... I bet God has blue eyes...

April, 1968....

... my Pa with 1st Shore Party BN, 1st MARDIV at Phu Loc in '68.... I wonder what he was thinking...

... Boudicca has a photo of her Pop up too... The Great Omnipotent One, as he is known... and he cuts a handsome figure...

.. and even ole Elisson is digging through the photo albums...

.. must be something in the air...

Fans...

.... enjoyed a late lunch today with two lovable ladies... my Mother and my Aunt... conversation was varied and fluid and a smorgasbord of topics were covered... including, incidentally, the reason I was so sore yesterday....

... needless to say, the two girls didn't believe me... bullshit was called by my Aunt as she and my Mother giggled into their iced teas... and then my dear Momma thunk back and suddenly gasped at the memories she found....

... and hey, just like that, I was vindicated... and people, it was a beautiful moment... my Mother blurted out "good Lord! His Daddy was just like that!"... heh.. I do believe my Auntie was impressed...

... anyway, I get back home just in time to catch a call from Zonker... hey, Thunderman, how's work today?... good, I hope... still, it's always a pleasure to listen to you tell me how bad my blog sucks... I do so appreciate your continued reading... it's guys like you who truly make blogging a worthwhile endeavor... I love you, man... now post, bitch...

... so just for Thunderman, guess where I'm off to?... you guessed it... the patio... to sit at peace among the blooming dogwoods and listen to the bluebirds argue over who gets the lion's share of their ladyfolk's loving...

Clarity...

... so yesterday as I was thinking deep thoughts and soaking up the sunshine, a sudden wave of depression swept over me... the finality of resolution, people... the crystalline realization that I have been trying to fool myself all these many years... hiding behind lies... making excuses to the mirror... forever wearing long britches even during the mightiest of Summer days...

... yes, I finally concede defeat... I will never, never, never get a suntan.... no, not ever... and it is a sad thing to say.... I have tried so hard for so long....

... so, behold... the drumstick of the whitest blogger I know... namely, well, me....

... and I do so envy you people who brown on the first day of spring.... you bastards...

Grable....

.... I've just spent the bulk of my afternoon sitting on the deck cloudbusting up through the poplar trees.... hey, someone has to do it.. you don't think those badboys just break up all by themselves, do you?.... oh no... it takes individuals like me, people, to keep our skies blue and free of cloudjams....

... anyway, I managed to break a few of them up pretty good... but my skills ain't what they used to be.... of course, everything comes with a price... everything.... and the byproduct of today's creative loafing is that I have a nice, pink sunburn over most of my lily-white body... being a redhead truly sucks sometimes....

... overall, though, today has been a pretty good day... earlier, I suffered through "Mother Wore Tights"... goodness... and for 1947, one of the opening scenes totally took my breath away... I found it incredibly erotic... the Wife?... nada... and when I explained it to her as "I" saw it, I got the usual smack to the back of the head...

.. check it out...

... three hot little school girls (who graduated from high school the previous day) are off to the Big City... set in 1900 San Francisco.... they figure they can score some free tickets to a show and start needling the geeky guy who mans the counter... flashing their eyelashes and cooing - trying to get their way... so the Big Bossman overhears the geek saying "If I get caught doing this..."... so, yeah, he's busted... .but he recovers nicely and tells the Big Bossman that the three young cuties are actually wanting to audition as chorus girls...

... next scene, cut to the three young ladies... standing shoulder to shoulder in ankle-length Victorian dresses right in front of the fat, bald Big Bossman... awesome...

... he lights a cigar and eyes the girls for thirty seconds or so... obviously with a heart filled with lust... and then says... "AWWRIGHT, girls.. show me your legs..."... two of the three run screaming like banshees towards the door and disappear... Big Bossman is rolling around in his chair laughing his ass off... and then he stops.... see, he had just noticed that the blonde was still there... feet together.... gloved hands hanging just below her crotch... the prim dress bunched in each fist... showing off her perfect legs from knee to well-turned ankle... and people, it was Betty Grable...

... the Big Bossman nearly had a heart attack... (and probably a stiffy).. and he circled Grable a few times before the scene ended... needless to say, she got the job....

... 1947, people.... wow.... and a fat old man giving casting directions to Betty (who, by the way, did I mention she is pretending to be a shy little schoolgirl who wanted to be a cabaret dancer?) ...

... alright, I'm sorry.. but the whole thing just totally turned me on... Betty Grable standing there doe-eyed with her dress bunched just did it for me... and hey, I don't normally go for blondes... but there was something deeply seedy about the whole scene... the young girl doing as she was told by the Big Bossman...

... of course, the rest of the movie sucked... but if you get a chance to see it, that one scene makes the whole movie worth seeing....

Sore...

... damnation, I am sore today... my shoulders, neck, and thighs ache... my lower and mid-back is tight and attempts to spasm when I twist... good Lord, even my butt cheeks are sore....

... my once proud body used to be built for marathons... now, alas, the occasional sprint is about all I can physically handle.... but the problem is that my mind still thinks I can pull the long hauls and overrides the flesh... mercy...

.. it could always be worse, though... I mean, I could be dehydrated too... I mean, after yesterday, I should be dehydrated....

.... I think my lips are chapped too...

Uranium....

... good afternoon, gentle reader... today's random bit of interesting bullshit was inspired by last night's wailing sing-along with Zevon as he belted "Roland the Headless Thompson Gunner"...

... did you people know that the uranium used in the atomic bombs dropped at Hiroshima and Nagasaki came from the Belgian Congo?... well, just trust me, it did... the Congo is a nation rich in uranium and coup d'etats...

... and that is why so many American and European mercenaries (with CIA backing) fought there during their civil war... assisting one side to keep the uranium deposits out of the hands of a pro-Soviet faction... now, don't you guys feel some much smarter?.. God knows I sure do....

... but Zevon is a bit artistic with some of the details in the song... but hey, he was an artist, so it's all good... like it all taking place in 66-67.. didn't happen, folks... the civil war was put to bed by Mobutu taking power and kicking ass in 1965...

... anyway, there you go... I really don't know what you can do with the knowledge, but there it is...

.. and, as always, you're welcome...

Found....

.... "you are incredible... you are so damn yummy.... good God... it is like some cosmic deity from a storybook plucked you up from a naked slumber and dipped you head-first into the River Styx of Wonderfulness... coating your entire body in a shining layer of nibbleability... leaving only your Achilles tendon to wallow in mediocrity while the rest of you glows and vibrates... I'm dying.... just wait till I roll you over, baby... "

... wow... the things you find on your computer screen in the morning after a 2AM session of inspiration...

... one really should refrain from writing fiction while under the influence of alcohol....

Cheap...

.... you know, I am very, very proud to be a Tennessean... I really am... it is a fine state with a great history.. full of beauty and grandeur.... and evidenty, criminals who give kidnapping a bad name....

... but there are days when I read stories like this and, well, I am torn... I don't know if I should hang my head in shame... or laugh myself into a stupor...

.. Ronnie Ellis and Steketra Donsha Garrett.... look, I am sure they are both traumatized... but still.... I mean, c'mon....

.. I can't wait to see this story come out on "Cold Case Files"....

Getting Ready...

... drove into town this morning to pick the steaks up from the butcher... and five beautiful fillets were lovingly selected... had the sunroof open and Dire Straits blasting during the ride back.... Tunnel of Love... excellent stuff...

... now the steaks are cooling themselves in a puddle of Worcester sauce in the fridge... the Wife is curled up on the couch watching "Mr. Smith Goes To Washington"... and I'm about to settle myself for an afternoon on the patio...

... Spring is finally here and it's awesome.. it's been a long time coming.... at least it seems that way.... I noticed that the camellia I planted beside the steps out back is blooming.. as is the Tulip Magnolia in the front yard... pretty soon the dogwoods will be too...

... as for me, it's certainly time for a cool change... time to shake things up a bit... make a move.... stretch a little... this is going to be one interesting Summer...

Sweeping...

.....I was just sitting on the deck searching through my Ogden Nash book for spiritual guidance when the phone went... mercy, 9:00AM just seems an uncivilized time to telephone someone on a Saturday morning, doesn't it?... even if the are up?... anyway, it looks like I have to dust off my old suit and tie.... it appears that I'm off to a wedding tomorrow down by the river...

... tonight though, well, I have my sights set on steaks again... some friends are coming around and I am playing host...

... sure, I've gotta replace the lava rocks in the gas grill and sweep out the garage before they arrive... but otherwise everything is in place...

... wow... an April wedding... good luck, Big Guy... all the best, man..... I'll be there pressed and starched....