Friday, December 30, 2005


Paycheck to paycheck...cut off notices hung on the door...power actually cut on two occasions. On the verge of giving up and shining it on. Dump it all and become a train jumping drag rat.
On the other hand, I'm struggling, we're struggling, but thanks to a friend, I'm learning a trade and earning a check and getting by.
I can cry like a bitch about my misfortune or be thankful for the fortune I've got...and you know what? I can bitch like the best of them, and I think I do here. Another thing I'm thankful for...this venue, to write about this hand I've been dealt.
But what's more important is the gifts I've been given over the last year.
The list is too long to count, but high on it is the unending love and support of shining light. We get so wrapped up in the day to day bullshit I miss my chance to say how much she means to I'm saying it here. My son and his wife gave me a gift, my grandson...and as much as I was conflicted about it, I look at that little guy and it makes me feel all warm, you know?
I do this crazy rotation with the dogs, they ride with me to the store to trade off scratch tickets and get a walk in between the store and home. it's a simple thing, but they love me more than they did before I started doing this with them, and it shows at night when we sleep...cuddles from dogs rock. They pile around me like I'm an energy source or something, and with the exception of claws in the ribs, neck and face , I don't mind it at all.
So maybe 2005 wasn't so bad after all...*
Unless you get into all the political shit that went down...and I won't. You guys know ALL about what happened in 05 and so do I. That's where the beatdown comes into play.
Here's to a better time in about 48 hours...
"I can swim"..."Hey Kyle! Whose this??? "Two words...first word starts with a "J" and envision this guy nailed to a word starts with an "L"...think about the cold blooded critters we caught on the greenbelt...anybody else care to wager?
* We're still here after all.

Or something like it...

Click on it for a bigger one...

We had cajun basted turkey with mashed potatoes and gravy and carrots and green bean cassarole and sage sausage stuffing and biscuits.

We had to do the generational thing :)

And of course there were prezzies...Annabelle likes the flannel :)

Click on it for a bigger one...

And of course the dogs had to score...

It was an awesome holiday...more pictures to come...

Wednesday, December 28, 2005


The kids came over for was awesome. there are pictures coming, but it's after 2 am and I'm here's a teaser of the great and awesome Sean...more to come.... it...he's fucking cute...

More later when Ann can help me out.
I'm such a retard:)

Sunday, December 25, 2005


We hung up our christmas decorations today, one pathetic little string of blinking white icicle lights along the top of the porch. And you know what? That's just fine with us. That we even did that says alot. And it was nice to come home from the folks home after christmas dinner and gifts there and see them twinkling away. That charlie brown christmas special with the wimpy tree has always held a special place in my otherwise anti holiday heart. I could echo Ann's sentiments, but I won't. That would be redundant. Instead, I give you this:

That something so slight could carry so much weight effected me since the first time I saw it to today...this christmas day.
It's not the size of the wallet that matters, it's the size of the heart.
And with that, I wish you one and all love, peace and joy and a better 2006.
Merry christmas from the gang!


Th' Rev

Theo "scammer for treats"

Irene "shish-ka-bob legs"

Sullivan "Barky boy-tell you a story"

Hippy holidays ya'll!!!:)

Saturday, December 24, 2005

Time to shake off the "Bah, Humbug" attitude
It's Christmas Eve and in an hour Rob and I will be visiting my parents along with my brother and his kids to have dinner together and open a few gifts. The gift side of things with my family has always been way toned down compared to other families I know. A box of home baked cookies, a flannel shirt or a pair of houseshoes are all fine and dandy as a present and if any one of us had enough money to buy someone a Lexus or a diamond necklace, you can bet we wouldn't dare do it as Christmas present. That would be totally unacceptable. I didn't realize how rare this attitude was until I got older and saw how stressed out my friends were over the whole Christmas shopping experience. Many of them felt they had to spend a set amount of money per person even if it meant running up so much credit card debt that it would take them the next year to pay it off. Some of them would scour all the stores in the area for days/weeks or even drive out of town in an effort to find some particular item that they just "had" to give. I had a taste of that kind of pressure when I was married to my ex-husband. I suppose I caused even further Christmas stress for my ex when I refused to go along with the game plan, but too bad. As a result, I'm usually pretty free of Christmas stress so I was a bit mystified by my humbug attitude this year.

It only took a couple of conversations with my co-workers yesterday and today to realize much of it comes from the work I do. The day to day interactions with customers who seem to get ruder and nastier this time of year, the fact that we are working instead of having any days off, plus it's the busiest time of the year so we are all overworked, well it definitely takes it's toll on the holiday spirit. But for tonight I will try to shake that off, enjoy the good food and company of my family and maybe feel a little bit of the Christmas spirit before I head back to work tomorrow.

Thursday, December 22, 2005


I don't know if all this maudlin shit I've been scribbling down has anything to do with christmas, but I suspect it does. When I left home it was after a row with my mom. I had wrecked the car they'd given me for my birthday, and had to hitch hike home from school. Now hitching home from school was a stress inducing experience. You never knew when a truck load of rednecks would come along and chase you, and if they caught you, kick your ass and cut off your hair. On this particular day there were no rednecks, no chase, just the drunk asshole that picked me up and gave me the white knuckle ride of my life down the windy bee caves road (back when it was still 2 lanes and not 4 with a turn lane). He missed my driveway by a mile and i had to walk through the woods to my house. Needless to say, I was still kind of stressed out when I got home and my mom decided I was pouting about the car, and how ungrateful I was and blah blah blah. One thing led to another, and I ended up packing some clothes into a garbage bag and bailing. My mom chased me out of the house with a stew pot and hurled it at me, losing her balance on the throw and almost turfing out on the porch, and what did I do? I went to help her only to be met with a hurling of recriminations and insults. I grabbed my bag of shit and hit the road with that north country voice drilling insults into the back of my head ( the english are really good at calling you out, especially the ones from the north, apparently).
I walked to the main road and stuck out my thumb again. This time a classmate picked me up and took me to my girlfriends apartment on east riverside drive...miles away from westlake hills and home. With my garbage bag and my soul. And while I stayed connected to my parents, in some sense, I never turned back.
I still have that garbage bag...just a pantry away.
And I it was yesterday.

Wednesday, December 21, 2005


My mom didn't limit her railing to my dad...her hammering drove my sister out of the house at age 16, and me a few years later at 17. I was a loser too. One I remember clearly was I was "a bloody hunch backed hippy hopped up on dope who would amount to nothing". Another one was "You're just like your spine. Ouch.
But the fact of the matter was my dad was a man before his time...a soldier/warrior and a middle aged hippy all in one lifetime. He was something to look at with pride.
But, according to my mom, he was a loser and by genetics, so was I apparently.
So here I am, thinking my dad was a loser, but at the same time faced with the reality of what an awesome human being he was. And as it turned out, he was. But by my moms estimation he was a useless pile of crap, and so was I.
While I was able to reconcile my dads situation, those hurtful things hurled at me for years by my mom stayed with me for a long long time. Faced with this kind of bullshit, a person can over achieve or fall into the abyss. A kind of "I'll show you" mentality. Well...I tooled it down to something I like to call "over achieving loser". I was a self defeating machine that somehow managed to reach a level of success while at the same time maintaining my moms estimation that I was a loserI was proving her wrong, but at the same time I was wrecklessly trying to destroy myself.
And I didn't even know it.
Why am I even rambling on about things that shouldn't matter? Because it does matter.
Where you've been is who you are.
Unless you figure out how to step out of the circle, and create your own.
And I did.
But I can still look back and see it all.
I was betrayed...and they never had a clue. But I'm here in all my fucked up glory.
Just trying to get by.
And it seems to be going OK.
And with that, I wish you all a merry christmas and a happy new year.
See you in 2006.

Tuesday, December 20, 2005


For a long time, my parents didn't have a very good relationship. In fact, my mom left my dad and returned to England twice. Once when I was about 14 and again when I was 18. My dad didn't say much about it the first time,and as a result I felt abandoned and spent alot of time listening to Led Zeppelins "Thank You" off of LZ II and weeping like a bitch. My mom had left me, and I was crushed. I knew my parents weren't happy, but the lack of information offered by my dad made it hard not to personalize it on many levels. Even though my mom and I fought like cats and dogs, I was thrilled when she came home.
I was out of the house when my mom bailed again. But since I was an "adult" my dad was more vocal about it. Tired of being picked on, tired of not being good enough. And truth be told, he had taken a beating from my mom on this subject for years. I was silent witness to alot of it, laying in bed and hearing my mom rail on my dad for being a loser...and by rail I mean fucking rail. He rarely responded, except when he had had that wound poked enough and would beg her to just shut the fuck up. Which resulted in more railing on his character. It wasn't pretty, believe me.
One day, my dad and I were going to the pet store together, and on the way, we were talking about mom. Where we worked at the time there was was this woman...a cowgirl...a rough and tumble woman who was my dads friend...and mine as well. In fact, when i was about 15, she invited me to her ranch to spend the weekend...her sons were at thier dads. This woman oozed horny to me, and while the weekend never worked out, I am convinced to this day I would have scored some hot MILF action out in her barn.
She apparently had the same effect on my dad, because he opened the glovebox and showed me a jumbo box of trojan condoms and professed his desire to "bang the shit out of Julia".
But he couldn't do it. In spite of all the anger, the temporary hate, the heartbreak, he loved my mom and honored his vows.
My mom must have felt the same way, because she returned once again and for the remainder of thier life together they were at peace, and i think, finally mended whatever rift was there to begin with.
This experience has had it's effect on me over the years and I have a string of bad/failed relationships to prove it. Fucked up marriages have a long lasting cascading effect and some people never recover from the damage. I recovered...or found my true soul mate ( or both ) and for the last 11 plus years have been happy and content for the most part. The parts that have been less than happy have nothing to do with Ann...just the stones of life, and we've endured them together.
The reason for all this nostalgia is a result of a betrayal. A blog friend ditched his family for someone else, and crushed them in the process.
I remember how that feels.

Monday, December 19, 2005


The president of Iran has banned western music This is the same asshat that has denied the holocaust ever happened and wishes Israel many bad things. All of this takes me back to 1979. This kind of bullshit coupled with our sabre rattling in regard to Iran just makes me nervous.
The Eagles? Kenny fucking G? Eric clapton??? Come on you raghead asshat...Now the hip hop thing...that's rotting your people's brains no doubt...get it??? NO DOUBT!...hahahahahahahahahahahahaha!
That's funny...but you, Mr. Ahmadinejad, you're just asking for trouble. And you gotta know you are...I mean just look at this idiot:

He's crazier than you Ahmad...take a slow careful look and you will see, and shut up about that holocaust shit already.


My fellow americans...When I said back in may of 2003 that major combat operations were over in Iraq, 140 men and women had died as a result of our invasion. Since then, 1585 have died as a direct result of combat with insurgents, approximately 475 have died from a variety of accidents unrelated to combat. But we are winning this war...the one I said was over back in may of 2003. Remember...I was all in my sock packed jump suit on the deck of that battleship with that banner behind me that said mission accomplished. Remember? Good.
That was a lie.
It was right around this time that I started spying on people in the united states ( I'm probably lying about this too, but I have told so many lies that it's becoming difficult to keep them all straight) without warrants. Now this is illegal as shit, but as you heard me lie about it today, I am authorized to break the law for myI mean your own good by the laws that govern this country and it's government. Now, most of you are too stupid to notice that I didn't mention or reference any specific law or precedent that would allow me to spy on americans. Well, that's because there isn't one. As Regis say's..."I'm outta control"!!!
And then there's that whole torture thing...I finally had to roll over for McCain, cause he has real credibility on this issue, and the latest info on the "iceman" makes us look really bad. Had Durbin held onto this legislation, I would have steamrolled it into the ground, along with every other piece of information that exposes us for what we are.
And then there's this whole Plame thing that just keeps growing and growing...and Condi getting ridden like a bicycle in europe over our secret prisons.
And beyond the war...we folded oil drilling in ANWAR into a must pass defense bill...GOD DAMN! We have giant balls. What the fuck does drilling for oil have to do with national defense? Nothing! Nothing at all. But if I say" terrorist" and" WMD" and" 9-11" enough times, you sheep will buy anything.And I can get away with murder...and I am.
It's happy make believe time in america and 1939 germany is the functional model.
Thank you and good monkeys.

What's the fucking difference to these people?
And they question the oppositions patriotism? Please...

Sunday, December 18, 2005


I am so completely and totally full of horse shit...if it's not obvious to you yet ( and it should be ) let me repeat this mouthful of retard I spit out earlier this week to NBC anchor Brian Williams:
"Whether or not it needed to happen, I'm still convinced it needed to happen".
I actually said this on national television.
Can you believe it?
Well 34% of you do anyway...of course, we in the white house don't believe in polls.
I think you can see why.
God I's a shame I can't own up to'd think my recovery status and my born again status would afford me the humility to own up to being a piece of shit, but my status as a sociopathic criminal won't allow it.
And all that money made on the backs of real americans.
Happy holidays suckers!

Friday, December 16, 2005


I would sneak down the hill to the house of Grace and wreak havoc. In the dark I could creep up to the back of thier house undetected. On the first visit, I opened the outdoor faucets to full bore...two on the back of the house, and one on each side. 1000's of gallons flowed to nowhere. it was a 12 year olds prank, meant to annoy, I never realized how it would effect the utility bill at the time. On that visit I discovered the breaker panel, and my subsequent visits focused on the switch marked main...which I tripped on several visits.
I tormented these miscreants for over a year, and forgot my new found empathy for the sisters for one episode.
The walk from bus stop to home was about 3/4's of a mile if you took the driveway, 1/2 a mile if you cut through the woods. I convinced the sisters to follow me on the short cut one afternoon and led them deep into the woods and ditched them in the middle of (for all they knew) nowhere. I knew these woods like the back of my hand and ran off like a jackrabbit.
That was the extent of my revenge for the killing of our Murphy...had this killing happened when I was 14 or 15 years old, I would have burned thier house down.Adolescent hormones can be an unforgiving thing.
Lucky for them.

Thursday, December 15, 2005


As a child, our family dog was an irish setter, who, duh, was named Murphy. He came from a champion bloodline of bird dogs and was trained in all manner of dead bird retrieval. When he joined our family, those dead birds were replaced with tennis balls, and his once predatory skills were reduced to really cool tricks with tennis balls. He was also prone to wander, sometimes for days, but he would always return, full of burrs and hungry, but there was no question that he knew how to find his way home after his wanderlust subsided.
When I was 12 we moved to 512 Grace Lane, called such because the Grace family owned the surrounding property of ours, and thier road was the only access. The Grace family had the monopoly on garbage pick up in the hill country at the time, were southern baptists to the extreme, and pumped out a variety of, erm, challenged successors to the the Grace garbage dynasty. The two daughters went to my school and were the constant ridicule of the other was called penquin, the other waffle wiffer...I too, engaged in this teasing until I got involved in the special education department as an aide and got to know Sherry and Nancy...the aformentioned penquin and waffle the encouragement of my dad who worked with the retarded for the state.
Sherry and Nancy had an older brother, Roy...he was in his early twenties, and I only ever saw him on the garbage trucks. Except for two times. Roy was not right...not by a long shot.
The first time, he was pounding on our door, weilding an ax, screaming at us about teasing his sisters. I tried explaining that I was trying to help his sisters not tease them, but he would have no part of it and stormed off. I'm not sure, but the ax was probably just a prop to intimidate us...but considering he was in the most shallow end of the gene pool, he was probably chopping firewood and ruminating on his sisters torment and just clicked off and marched up the hill to our house ax in hand.
The next time he had come to warn us to stay off thier property, all of us. After that, anything below the hill from our house was off limits. This was before westlake hills was littered with subdivisions and you could wander for miles in undisturbed woods out where we lived. I ignored the warning...I loved these woods, all of them, including the woods owned by the Graces. Wildcat Creek ran through the property and some of the best pools were below the hill.
Murphy took one of his walkabouts shortly after the last visit and when he didn't return in a week, we started to worry. Time passed, and even though we tried to be optimistic, after a couple of months, we accepted he was gone. but what had happened to him?
Several months later, I was in the forbidden zone, running along wildcat creek and I came across a skeleton on the trail...the skeleton of a dog, a red haired dog...bones and red hair, and a collar.
Murphy's collar.
I ran home as fast as I could and burst into the house and announced to my mom...
"I found Murphy"!
We could never prove what happened, but I am sure that Roy Grace killed him.
And I did what any 12 year old would do under the circumstances, I waged war on the Graces.
They had killed Murphy, a member of my family, and for that they would pay.

Wednesday, December 14, 2005

Time to get stupid
I avoid taking prescriptions or over the counter medication as much as possible, but there are times when my allergies get the best of me and I have to dose up with an antihistamine. It's something I've been dealing with for about 40 years and I've tried all the anithistamines on that very long list of old and new drugs. Only four work for me and they all have side effects. The best is Pheniramine Maleate which is almost impossible to find. There's plenty of Chlorpheniramine Maleate and I'd really like to know why if it has "Chlor" in front, it doesn't seem to work as well. I don't think it's all in my head, because I didn't even know what was in the products back when I was trying different things to find something that would work. The nice thing about these two is that they come in 4 hour doses so I can take it before I go to bed and when I wake up in the morning, it's worn off and I can think and function normally. Diphenhydramine also comes in a four hour dose and while it's the most effective, it gives me a day long hangover after it's worn off. I save that one for the bad allergic reactions to bee stings and accidentally eating crab or lobster. The other one that works is Clemastine (Tavist) which comes in a 12 hour dose and makes me stupid for the entire 12 hours. That's what I took tonight because it was the only choice I had in the medicine cabinet. You would think I was smoking pot or doing heroin when I'm on this stuff. I've never actually done heroin, but I used to know some one who was a user and I'd say my behavior was pretty similar to his after he was past the initial rush. It's already kicked in and I'm having a very hard time finishing this post. I was going to tell you just how stupid this stuff makes me, but it kicked in much sooner than expected and composing sentences is taking way too much effort. Time to go stare at the TV while I nod in and out of consciensness... consousness... con... ah to hell with it.

Sunday, December 11, 2005


I've seen in a long time...enjoy

Charlie Brown does Outkast



So the rest of you asshats can shut the fuck up. It's settled...

VATICAN CITY (Reuters) -- Pope Benedict has warned against rampant materialism which he said was polluting the spirit of Christmas.

"In today's consumer society, this time of the year unfortunately suffers from a sort of commercial 'pollution' that threatens to alter its real spirit," the Pope told a large crowd gathered in St. Peter's Square on Sunday to hear his weekly Angelus blessing.

He said Christmas should be marked with sober celebrations and urged Christians to display a nativity crib in their houses as "a simple but effective way of showing their faith and conveying it to their children."

Last year, under Pope John Paul, the Vatican launched a high-profile campaign to urge Roman Catholic Italy not to compromise the spirit of Christmas through excess or dilute its message out of fear of offending a growing Muslim population.

I'm off to target to buy my nativity crib right now! Fuck the tree...I'm getting a crib and were going to fill it full of presents.

Saturday, December 10, 2005


Lets start out by averaging our electric the summer months they average about 350.00, in the fall and winter we run about 200.00, give or take 50 bucks. This is ridiculously high in my opinion, especially considering we have window units for our AC that if we are not in the room they are not on, and we have 99% compact florescent lighting , energy efficient to the max. You'd think our bill would be much smaller considering, but the S in Austin energy looks like this: $. Actually, it looks more like this: $$$.
Since Austin is such a cool place to live, the people in charge have decided we have to pay for the privilege. Energy costs are exorbitant, property taxes are astronomical, traffic fines are's a money grab.
Having been here for most of life, and remembering a very different town from the one I currently find myself deployed, it's very easy to blame all you people who have moved here from someplace else in the last, oh, 15 or so years. California has a special disdain for me, but there are other states to blame for ruining our thing. Yankee is the word I'm searching for, and I wish you would go home. All of you, what you have done to this city makes me sick and sad.
It's like an alien invasion...things seem to be cruising along just fine, but...slowly but surely, these interlopers begin to infiltrate every aspect of our infrastructure. And all of a sudden you find yourself dealing with an asshole at Austin energy...a supervisor level asshole who has no discernible regional accent (because he's not from Austin, or Texas, for that matter...He's infiltrated us from somewhere north of the mason/dixon line) because he's a money grubbing yankee asshat.
Back in the day when a city employee asked if they could help you, that's what it meant and they did. Now when you escalate a call to a supervisor, they still say "can I help you" but what they really mean is "how can I shut you and your 'complaint' down in 30 seconds or less". Asshole...major asshole. ( You can thank Ann that I wasn't waiting for you in the parking lot of Austin energy with a sock full of wood screws the other night after you unleashed your special brand of arrogant, uncaring bullshit my way...consider yourself lucky ).
I don't have a problem with being told I have no option beyond your arbitrary, policy binded one, but you don't have to be an asshole about it. I need to focus on the predicament and the possible solutions, not react to being belittled by some interloper fuckstick with more money than compassion...go home dickweed, we don't want you here.
Phew! I feel better now. Plus, I found my box of wood screws and some odd socks...better park close to the building for awhile buck-o.And buy that minimum wage security guard something nice...

They shut us down at work on wed. afternoon because a cold front came in with some light, and by light I mean I could spit more, rain. They shut the whole campus down and sent everyone home at 2pm. They told us to report back on Thurs. at 10 am. I got a call from my boss at 9 am telling me they had shut the entire campus down for the day. So I effectively lost 25% of my weeks pay because people in this city are complete pussies when it comes to "inclement weather". I've lived up north, and for those of you who have or understand the true meaning of the term inclement. A patch of ice the size of a dinner plate every half mile or so hardly qualifies as such. Like I said...a bunch of pussies. Let me add that by 11am the sun was shining and the pitiful amount of ice was mostly melted.
Now, the good news is it put us behind schedule and as a result we are working an overtime shift sat. that will make up for the hours lost during our "Texas sized blizzard".
I get my 40 hours in exchange for sacrificing a day off. I'm not bitching about that...I'm happy to make up the lost time. We didn't need the hit to the budget.
But it's this very kind of give and take without moving forward kind of lifestyle that's slowly but surely wearing me down.
And then there's the city utility...Austin energy, that almost sent me south with a hand gun today.
I'll get to that tomorrow though, cause it's really late and I need to crash.

Tuesday, December 06, 2005


There's a lot going on in the world of american "politics" which has a new definition that includes the words and herring just to name a few.
The conspiracy charges against DeLay have been dropped, but the money laundering charges stand. It appears that the conspiracy wasn't one by law technically when it occured. There are no laws on the books for slimey ass tactics. Oh well. But money laundering has been around for ages and hopefully the bugman from sugarland will choke on it. Meanwhile, Cheney was down in Houston attending a fund raiser for DeLays defense fund.
The Vice president of the US of A is at a fund raiser for a shamed politician accused of money laundering???
Come on...these assholes can't be that brazen can they???
Sure they can...Condi's overseas talking about "mistakes" that could "be made" in a campaign of the scope of "the international war on terror", and how they will take every measure to correct them "as they occur". I think what she really means is " I'm laying the groundwork to cover the plethora of mistakes we already made"...I heard a guy on the radio today say that Condi would'nt know the truth if " it stepped on her 1000 dollar shoes". I agree.
Come they really think we're that stupid???
Sure they do.
The unending stream of horseshit from the likes of Bunnypants his own self in a lame ass attempt to counter Dean's comments on the radio comparing Iraq to Viet Nam. Bush is full of that transparent patriotism..."we support our troops...blah blah blah". Implying that to tell them the truth is unpatriotic...oh, wait. That makes perfect sense if you're a republican criminal.
I agree with Dean, this war is unwinnable under the current circumstances. If we want to "win" we need to dramatically increase the number of troops and just pummel the country into the stone age. We could do this. Why aren't we? If the war on terror is so fucking important, and Iraq is the "center" ( wholly manufactured by the bush administration ) why aren't we swarming over the country with the full force of our military might? WWII style? We could end this shit in a week, but we aren't.
Why not?
Good question.
What else could it be?
I refer you to this picture:

(rumsfeld greets hussein in baghdad during the iran/iraq war...1983)

Something must have gone wrong.
I wonder what it was that was so bad to manifest itself in the shitstorm we currently find ourselves in?
It's also of interest to me that Russia has signed an agreement to provide Iran with TOR missles this week. After they failed miserably in Afghanistan.
Bandwagonesque, innit?

Sullivan and I continue our nightly rides to the store and he has learned cues beyond the putting on of the cap and the handling of keys to signal his impending ride. For instance, that annoying fiddler at the end credits of NYPD Blue ( my 5 to 6 pm guilty pleasure ) and seeing scratch tickets.
Tonights ride was different, because Sully was, uh, gassy. We hadn't made it out of the driveway when the rodeo was filled with an aroma vaguely reminiscent of hashish.
I don't have any hash...and after the initial bouquet, I realized what was happening. It continued all the way to the store, growing in strength until I was flooded with memories of an old cheech and chong routine involving burning eyes and rosarita refries.
I let out a noxious cloud when I opened the door and hoped the smell wouldn't follow me into the store.
I don't know what he ate...maybe it was the banana he stole out of the turtle pen...

Sunday, December 04, 2005

A car in my future
It was a day off work and I could have slept late, but I was up at 6 AM when the dogs let me know they really needed to go out. Some days I can go back to sleep after that, but this wasn't one of them. Not a problem, it gave me an early start on lounging around in my pajamas and doing a whole lot of nothing. About 2 PM I finally showered, dressed and went over to my parents house to sign the title transfer for the Tempo. After tomorrow, I'll have a car again and it's one with an affordable, interest-free payment plan to cover the $2000 cost of repairs (some of that cost was just routine maintenance though.) That's a lot more than I would pay for the car from a used car lot, but it's impossible to know what you are really getting when you buy a used car from a stranger and it would not have come with such a budget friendly loan. I know this car has been well taken care of and at under 60,000 miles it should run for many more years. Even if the new harmonic balancer only makes 50,000 miles like the old one, that's still a long time given my driving habits. I typically put less than 5000 miles per year on a vehicle so that comes out to about 10 years provided there's no other major repairs needed down the road. Heck, if it lasts even half that long, it will still be money well spent.

Thursday, December 01, 2005

Bus Trip
Rob was working late today so I planned on taking the bus home. My shift ends at 3:30 PM, but I'm usually not out of there until 4:00 or so because a call will inevitably come in at 3:29 and even if it's a short one then I'll still have slew of trouble reports in my box that I need to finish off before I leave. Today we were really slammed with calls and I agreed to work a bit later to help out. I was more than ready to high-tail it out of there after what was most definitely a day from hell, but I stuck it out as long as I could stand it, until about 4:45. I caught the 5:00 bus by literally running to the bus stop.

It's a very rare occasion to see me running, but I knew I had an hour long trip ahead of me and I didn't want to delay it by waiting another 30 minutes for the next bus. I made it, but soon realized catching the 5 o'clock bus was a mistake. This bus is frequently standing room only for a stretch of the way at any time of the day, but I've never seen it quite so packed like sardines as it was this time. I hate crowds and it was a miracle I didn't hyperventilate. I would have been better chilling out on the bus stop for 30 minutes after the day I had just experienced at work. At some point on the trip I decided a cold beer or two was in order once I got home and since there wasn't any in the 'fridge, I figured I'd stop on the way and grab a six-pack.

I decided against HEB because I'd have to catch the same bus again and then transfer down the way meaning two more waits for a bus, but the Akbar & Jeff's mini-mart is right next my usual transfer point. Except that transfer point is usually populated by crack-heads and gangsters and it was getting dark so I opted instead to stay on the bus to another transfer point at the end of the line which was located in a more hospitable area, directly behind Central Market.

Unfortunately Central Market doesn't have a back entrance and while it's not that far to walk all the way around the sprawling strip mall complex, my ankles were definitely letting me know that I should not have run to catch the bus earlier. And then there's the whole Central Market experience which I thought would be much less stressful than the HEB. Well, there weren't any unsupervised children running wild, but there were a whole lot of pushy people in a hurry and I was literally whisked through the store by the momentum. It was an odd contrast to HEB where large groups of people blocking the aisles is the norm. And the check out lines were short, very short! Too bad I can't afford to shop here on a regular basis.

Another treck around the strip mall and after a short wait for the bus that goes by my house I was home by 6:30. Not too bad. Plus, the trip seemed to have cleared out some of those brain cobwebs that I usually have after a day on the phones. I wonder if it was the walking or the reflective time spent sitting on the bus staring into space? Either way, it's something I'd like to duplicate on a regular basis. The cobweb clearing that is, definitely not the bus ride.

Wednesday, November 30, 2005


As I sit here listening to Frank Zappa's sheik ...that track of him just ripping it the fuck up before the awesome song "Bobby Brown" and then "I knew you'd be surprised". He's ripping it on a gibson SG.
I got this big smile on my face knowing I can coax similar sounds from my own SG...and he just riffs away, like I do sometimes.
It makes me smile.
To approximate I know all the words.
Thank you Frank for putting the icing on a actually pretty cool birthday...Dinner at maudie's was about 40 bucks, but when the bill came it was 13.89...the manager cut our ticket for my birthday. Cool.
My friends at the package store gave me some free Dewars scotch...thanks guys, Ann loved it.
All in all it was a good if you'll excuse me, I have some tickets to scratch. :)
Dining Out
It only took two days of work for me to revert back to a brain-dead state at the end of the work day. I had a long list of things I wanted to blog about this morning, but now... well, I can't think of a single one. However, that could change since it's Rob's birthday and we are going to Maudies for dinner. That used to be a major stress-buster for both of us, back when we could afford to go out for dinner. It wasn't the drinks or that someone else did the cooking, but that we could sit and talk for a couple of hours. Of course, we could sit and talk for a couple of hours at home, but that's just not the same. Dinner out always seemed to revive me in the past, so tonight I'll get a chance to see if it still holds true with this job. If it turns out to be a miracle cure, maybe I can find a way to work eating out back into the budget.

Tuesday, November 29, 2005


Today was a test of my resolve. Over the past month, I have had periodic pins and needles in my left shoulder and arm, radiating to my thumb. I'm certain it's a pinched nerve somewhere between my neck and shoulder blade. On top of that, my inner elbows have been suspiciously tender for, respectively, left to right, 2 and three weeks.
Today we were working in the main building, where parking is always a premium, but with several projects going on in main, it's next to impossible. We had to park at the library lot, about a block away. Now, being the apprentice, it's my job to run for and bring material to the job site. Put 10 junction boxes, 20 connectors, 20 couplings, 20 stand off straps, a box of 100 toggle bolts, a box of fender washers and some other shit made of metal in a cardboard box and you've got a pretty heavy load.
Then there's the hammer drill and the battery drill, and the bender, not to mention the tool bag that clocks in at about 35 lbs.... Combine that with the trip from truck to elevator to job site, and I'm covering some serious territory with some serious weight as quickly as possible.
Now to be fair, the journeyman carries his weight as well in regard to his tools and packs the bender or the drill. Oh, yeah, the pipe...I forgot about that, bundles of 10, 10 foot long pieces of metal. My journeyman carries the pipe...mostly because I would probably give some student or faculty member a serious head trauma carrying a bundle like that through the crowded halls of a university.
Did I mention the crowds? Like kicking the top off of an anthill crowds...and us being service people and them being important students and faculty, we're invisible. So if anybody's getting out of anyone's way, well, you do the math...and imagine dodging self important/self absorbed kids and faculty in narrow hallways while balancing a bundle of 10 foot pipe on your shoulder.
The elevators in main are small, the largest barely able to accommodate that bundle of pipe, and it has to be wrestled in, providing there are no students or faculty waiting on the same elevator...if there is, you stand with your load and wait...sometimes three or four cycles.
Now, a 10 foot ladder fitting in one of these elevators is out of the question. The room we are remodeling has 12 foot ceilings. If you are 6ft plus, an 8 ft ladder works just fine and just barely...barely fits in the elevator. We have a new journeyman who is an inch or so shorter than me...he requires a 10 ft ladder to do his job.
He and I carried that ladder up several flights of stairs, after I carried it alone from the parking area to the main building. 10 footers are heavy...even when they're made of fiberglass...let me tell you.
But I did it. And I was proud to do it, all that back and forth, all that heavy material. See, most apprentices are half my age and younger, and the ones I've been around cry like babies about this kind of labor.
In less than an hour I'll be 46 years old and I can still kick their asses!
I feel like Kurtz, only without the crazy.
Back in the Saddle
The first day back at work went far better than I expected. It took a few hours to get used to wearing a headset again and having to squint at the tiny monitor. But I think the thing I missed the most about being on vacation was the ability to go to the bathroom when ever I wanted. At work I have to wait for my scheduled break or the in case of an emergency when I know I can't make it to break then I have to ask for permission. Every time I have to do that I always flash back to fifth grade to a particular classroom and the teacher who was the first teacher I ever had with a strict "bathroom only by permission and I might deny it" attitude. I suppose it was her way of preparing us for junior high and high school where virtually no teachers would ever grant a student a bathroom pass. And as it turned out, preparation for the work force as well because many of the jobs I've worked at have had similar policies. I never understood why, as a switchboard operator/front desk receptionist, I was allowed to put a sign on my desk and forward the phones to spend 15 minutes making copies for an executive, but under no circumstances could I do the same thing so I could spend 2 minutes taking a piss. I'm pretty sure that for some employers it was a nothing more than control issue, but that doesn't seem to be the motivating factor where I work now. In fact, this wasn't the policy when I first started there. I could go on a rest room break at any time without asking permission. I didn't abuse it, but there were plenty of employees that did and sure enough, the policy was changed. It's a pattern I've seen time and time again in my thirty years of employment. It's much easier to clamp down on the entire employee population than spend time finding and dealing with the ones who are causing the problem. And since 9-11, this same sort of corporate attitude has been applied to the population of the US by our own government. We are all logged, tracked, and monitored at every turn because a small percentage of the population might be ne'er-do-wells and/or quite a few government officials are control freaks. Most of us, myself included, just sigh and muddle on rather than kick up a fuss. Now I suppose some people are actually afraid to say anything or do anything, but that's not my issue. I just don't have the energy to do much other than whine about it. My adolescent self would be appalled, but I no longer have the fire and drive to try and change the world. That sort of thing is better left to the young, but I suspect the youth of today are not start the revolution of tomorrow. Although I do have hope for their kids.
I should be in bed right now, but I'm not. Yeah, I made an earlier comment about showing up for work sleepy and hungover, but there's not near enough beer here to induce a hangover and I'm a bit too fond of sleep to sacrifice it just to make a point. Rather I'm up late doing laundry because I checked the closet to see what I might wear to work tomorrow and discovered I had no clean shirts. I also have nothing for breakfast or lunch tomorrow which just shows how quickly I can abandon my normal practice of planning ahead for such things. Schedules, routines, planning - yeech. Although I might be a master at it (ask anyone who's ever worked with me) that doesn't mean I enjoy it. And I've often wondered if there's a correlation between my dislike of schedules and the fact that I can't wear a watch. Most analog watches just stop, but a few have actually run backwards. I thought when the LED watches came out that might be the answer for me, but they die as well or the LEDs go out after a few days making it impossible to tell what time it is. I also whack out alarm clocks, though much more slowly than watches. I've discovered recently that moving them to Rob's side of the bed usually results in a complete recovery after a period of time. Weird stuff.

Monday, November 28, 2005


Not my style here at depthmarker...I just spew the shit out as it comes...and you either relate or not. It's hit or miss, but it's a blog...I'm allowed to spew. It's more about my interpersonal "style" in real time, day to day interaction with people close to me. In regard to regard and proximity. I like most of the people I work with...everyone on my crew for sure, and there is no one in the periphery I don't like flat out...
But when it comes to personal things I have always been anecdotal, even when I was in the psych wars. Someone presents an issue and I search the data base to see if there is some similar experience on my internal hard drive that I can relate to offer support and understanding, and the important thing...insight into the terrain they are currently deployed on.
I'm only trying to help. And as much as I try to distance myself from my former profession, the one part I can't shake is the desire to counsel. And I do that with anecdotal blathering.I try to relate common experiences and offer kernals of enlightenment based on my own experiences that could help the recipient deal with thier current issue(s).
The advantage of experience is what I'm trying to pass on.
When I tell a story, there's always a reason. Always. But I fear sometimes they get lost in the story and miss the point.
And those stories with a reason worked so well for me in my former life...but I've got to wonder these days, as the people hearing these stories today don't always respond like the ones hearing them years ago used to.
Maybe they have to think about them a bit longer since they're not in the circle.
And then there's always the distance I have from that circle. Fallen away save a precious few.
But understand that when I tell a story, there's always a reason.
Man! That's some convoluted shit.
But I've got to figure it out.

Rep. Randy "Duke" Cunningham ( R- thief/liar ) has resigned today, admitting, amongst other things, taking over 2 million in bribes from three defense contractors. He explains his earlier lies about this and the other charges against him as his inability to own up and take responsibility, but that he wants to now "atone" for his crimes in his "twilight years".
Which is super rich fuckhead code for "I'm in a corner I can't lie my way out of"...he got caught and suddenly his lame ass excuses for his rolls royce and his yacht didn't hold water, not to mention his 2.5 million dollar mansion...all this on an annual salary of approx. 160,000 dollars.
To him I say... suck on it bitch. Crocodile tears won't help you now. Hopefully he'll flip on some of those other (R-thieves/liars) that keep popping up on the justice radar.
It's funny...3 hours ago the CNN headline said "Crooked congressman resigns near tears" , at this posting it's been cleaned up considerably ( see link above ) what's up with that? Responsible journalism at play? Hahaha. Let's examine this headline : Crooked? Yes. Congressman? Yes. Cry baby? Yes. It's factual all the way around. It might be just a wee bit partisan and inflamatory, but it's still the truth. And the dems are way past due for a little payback when it comes to inflamatory partisan headlines. This one has something else going for it that all those republican hatemonging headlines bantied about and embellished rather than toned's the truth.
Cunningham himself has admitted it, before a judge and the public. Make no mistake, this is the result of an ongoing investigation, not a series of muckraking headlines,accusations and TV commercials. Hard questions about the facts regarding corruption. OK...enough gloating...but Ghawd-Damn! I love it.

Confidential to William Kay...

Billy...say it isn't so.

The party's over in more ways than one
This is the last day of my vacation and I wish I could tell you that I had a spectacular week off, but it was far from spectacular. I did get quite a bit of physical and mental rest and while that makes for a boring vacation, it was exactly what I needed. Tomorrow I go back to work and there's been a few changes to my job during the week I was off, none of them good, especially the requirement of L2s to work additional weekend shifts. Some L2s don't work any weekends at all, despite a policy that they work at least two shifts a month. And rather than enforce the policy and get those slackers to work on a Saturday or Sunday once in a while, they decided to change it so that those of us who do follow policy will now have to work even more weekend shifts. After all the policy changes over the last few months which have made the job become more and more unpleasant, I think this one might be the worst. There's nothing in life that I value more than spending time with Rob. This is going to cut into that time even more and I'm not at all happy about it. When some person or some event fucks with the things that are most important to me, I always react and I know myself well enough to anticipate that I'm going to do some act of defiance over this in the very near future. Unfortunately I don't know myself well enough to predict just what I might do. I could blow up one day at work and get fired or quit, but I'm just as likely to dye the ends of my hair lime green to take advantage of a job that allows such things. It's anyone's guess at this point. That said, I've decided to make a start on the whole defiance episode by showing up to work tomorrow sleepy and hung over instead of my usual "ready to go to work" self. Maybe I can nip this in the bud without doing something drastic.

Friday, November 25, 2005


It's black friday!Time to go out and violate your credit cards! Go asshats go! I saw at CNN this morning that Walmart saw millions of customers nationwide trample through the door and each other when they opened the doors.Reports of people fighting over items...ahhh! the spirit of christmas.
Are we as a people really this fucked up?
It would appear so.

Thursday, November 24, 2005


Here's wishing you all a happy thanksgiving. I hope you all had a wonderful time with family and friends, ate copious amounts of food and lolled in front of the television watching Atlanta beat the balls off Detroit. That was the game we watched anyway, between trips to the weather channel. But there was something missing for me this thanksgiving...where was Bush with his fake plastic turkey? He didn't greet the troops overseas like he did last year in that fake supportive sort of way. Why not? Why not continue the lie? What's different between prior years and this one? I think the answer is easy.
He was full of shit then and he's full of shit now. And that plastic turkey told him to fuck off...nobodies buying into your shit anymore...the tide may be turning. And we give thanks to ... oh, I don't know...
In this land of bullshit what are you thankful for this year?

Tuesday, November 22, 2005


As I've been writing, I take Sullivan on rides in the the store mostly. I've been trying to spread the love around of late to the other kids, and I decided to take Irene with me. Now, irene is usually a very well behaved little diva of a dog, not requiring the requisite leash our spazzy Sully gets before the door is opened. Irene jets out the door and immediately flushes one of the neighbors cats out from under the rodeo. The cat hightails it across the street to home. There are cars coming and Irene is in hot persuit...across the street in traffic.
I race across the street after her...she is apparently travelling so fast that my voice is unhearable and she disappears behind the house. I turn around to see Theo in the driveway, the neighbors driveway the one across the street. Meanwhile, the neighbors bajillion cats are all ducking for cover, like that old video game duckshoot. I holler at Theo, and he cuts and runs, realizing he fucked up,straight to our front door...through traffic. This is when I see he forced the gate ( time to put the lock back on the gate )to the back yard and ran his narrow handicapped ass after his sister. Have I said
through traffic enough yet?
I put him in the house and Ann is looking at me dumbfounded and asks what happened? I just say shut the door and get my flashlight out of the rodeo and head back over to the neighbors for Irene, who I'm hoping hasn't captured and killed one of his fucking cats. I find her in the side yard, and as soon as she sees me she jets in her hyper speed mode...thats right...across the street with cars coming, straight to the front door.
After a spanking and alot of "bad girl" admonishment...she was tossed into her room, where she remains at this writing. Little bitch :)...I can understand the lure of cats, but it was the cars that they didn't see that freaked me out so much...whew!
What a mad minute.

Monday, November 21, 2005


Wolves@th' out.


Way,way back in the day, I was a fool for know...pot,grass,weed,maryjane,dope,and apparently the new slang...airplane and, oddly enough, brocolli.Here's a picture of me under the influence...

Way back in the day, I was a fool for speed...crank,meth,go...none of that pill shit for me, no sir...I was all about the snort. There are no pictures I'm aware of showing me under the influence of speed, but if there are any, they would be blurry because,whatever I was doing, I was doing it really really fast.
Fortunately for me, I learned the error of my ways before my teeth rotted out and my mind leaked out of my ears ( that actually, could be up for debate).
Which brings me to the chicken in a round about way. And our dogs.
As far as our dogs are concerned, chicken = crack.
I made king ranch chicken for dinner tonight, and, as is my practice, I saved back some crack I mean chicken to give to the dogs. I gave some to Theo and Irene, and while Irene was satisfied, Theo was restlessly wandering around the front of the house looking for something . Something to trade for more chicken! He finally settled on an empty pill bottle, which he rolled around in his mouth while standing squarely between me and Ann looking back and forth between us expectantly,wagging his tail like a three card monte dealer in times square.
I got my pill bottle back, and Theo got some more chicken.
He played me...again.
And I let him...any dog smart enough to find something to barter for more chicken deserves it.
Which has nothing to do with my former bad habits, except the time I traded an air wrench to a tool head friend of mine for a quarter ounce of hash.:)
Plus, it was an excuse to run that picture...again...which is a really long way of saying "I got nuthin'".
I should have left town...
This vacation is trying very hard to turn into no vacation. My dad has already called and come by this morning causing me to cut short my pajama time because I had to get dressed so I could help him work on the Tempo, the car that has been sitting dead in my driveway for over a year. Apparently it needs new windshield wipers and an air filter before it goes to the shop where it may or may not be fixed. I went ahead and did it, but I put my foot down when he told me we should go down to the tax office tomorrow to the get the title changed over and buy tags for it. Sorry Dad, but as much as I appreciate the fact that you've decided to give me the car instead of giving it to my brother, I'm not going to waste a vacation day standing in line at the county tax office. Meanwhile I managed to get five missed calls on my cell phone while I was out mucking with the car. That's more calls in one morning that I usually get in an entire week. Forget it folks, I'm not calling you back. Now the gas company is here because there's a gas leak. Fortunately they traced it to the neighbors house and not ours, but this morning has not been an auspicious start for my vacation. I hadn't planned on getting drunk today, but I think I've just changed my mind.
Ah, vacation
Today is the first day of my paid vacation and I'm sure Rob was scratching his head when I went to bed at the usual time last night and set the alarm for 5:00 AM just like I always do. There's a reason for this madness. I wanted to get up, make coffee, let the dogs out, and then savor the experience of not doing any of that other stuff I have to do before I walk out the door and go work. Right now I would normally be scrambling to pack my lunch and lock up the house. Instead, I'm sitting at my own desk in my pajamas drinking coffee knowing that I don't have to go any where unless I decide that I want to do so. Sleeping late just doesn't pack quite the same thrill.

Sunday, November 20, 2005


It could have been ugly, but it wasn't. But it was so perversely funny that we laughed until our sides hurt. I for one haven't laughed so hard in months...maybe even years. As I've said before, there is a church next to our practice space, and while the congregation has always been small and almost never present during our practices...that has changed recently...what with them having a service on that sunday we jammed...our bad timing, but this was a saturday night so, who knew that shortly after our favorite drummers arrival there would be a stream of cars pulling in and each of those cars would eject some of the largest hispanic women and thier men I have ever seen in my life.
So, we're sitting around the overturned "live specimens" styrofoam box that we use as a table on the driveway to our space watching these cars come in, and I'm amazed at the size of the women getting out of these sub compacts...they are HUGE. I make some lame ass joke about clown cars at the's the church of obese mexican chicks and thier miserable cheating husbands. Which is quickly deemed non PC and altered to the church of the post pubescent starch explosion.
You can do the math.
We are all laughing hysterically as Clutch blasts from the PA, and decide they should have some musical accompaniment to the sit down supper they are having.

(from left to right: fat...not so fat...OH MY GOD.)

It's mostly a free form jam with smatterings of old Wolves songs thrown in for good measure..."reststop" is played in it's entirety because it's just an ugly ugly song.
When we emerge from our second set, the parking lot is empty...they have dissappeared into the night, with only the zombie green neon cross burning on the front of the building as proof of thier presence.
We should probably feel guilty, but it was just too damned funny.


But WHY aren't people in your country protesting on the streets about this?

Or are they all so tied up in their consumerist media-driven lifestyles and their gods that they are blind to what murder is being committed in their name?

And I wonder why people from our country who know about this (ie the British army bods on the streets with yours) aren't making their voices heard to our government?
Blue Witch | Homepage | 11.19.05 - 4:37 pm | #

Where to begin...Let me begin by using the recent example of the visit of the klan to our fair city. Barriers were set up that put the anti klan people so far away that any "meaningful" exchange of ideas was effectively crushed. The city deployed police en masse...including helicopters and some say sharpshooters to ensure the klans safety. They even censored the media, arbitrarily deciding what constituted "legitimate" news sources. As you can imagine, civil suits have been filed, and the city of Austin maintains the measures were taken to keep people safe.
From what? Were the city leaders taking steps to avoid the possibility of the klan related riot that occurred in Ohio a while back? Or were they engaging in a far more malevolent practice instituted by the Bush administration?
Yes..."Free speech zones"...miles away from whatever horseshit they were ramming down our throats, and coincidentally, miles away from the cameras and the media at large. As Orwellian as it sounds..."free speech zones", think about that for a minute. You can excercise your right to free speech as long as you excercise that right in an area designated and controlled by what amounts to the enemy. And the bonus here is that if you do, no one will hear you.Which is exactly the result the bushites are seeking. They want to operate unfettered.Like those guys in the guiness commercials proclaim "Brilliant".
You can say what you want, but only at a distance where no one will hear you and it will be of no consequence, plus, we can further marginalize and belittle you and your cause.
Another example is the vigil Cindy Sheehan held in Crawford ( home of the asshat in chief ) Texas. Since she left, the city passed several ordinances limiting protesters severely, there is now a 5 (?) square mile buffer around bush's ranch, a camping ban and a portable toilet ban, all under the premise to "keep people safe".
But I think it's clear what's going on here.
Free speech is being squelched.
And as the critical voices in washington begin to rise, you will see more of this...from the top down.
We are speaking out, BW, but they just speak louder, drowning the voice of reason out.

Thursday, November 17, 2005


I was an image that was burned into my brain during that other load of shit war called Viet Nam.
That naked little girl doing the "Richard Pryor mile" had been burned by napalm(olive), (softens your hands while you burn villages), all that smoke in the background should give you an idea of how devastating it is. There's nothing there anymore.
That was first generation napalm...what they have now is second generation. The Pentagon hasn't ( to my knowledge at this posting ) admitted to using the new and improved
napalm, but has admitted to using white phosphorus (WP) or Willy Pete. Initially, it said it only used WP to "illuminate the night skies in Fallujah" but then corrected itself to say it used it as a weapon, but not against "civilians".
OK...let's talk about civilians for a minute. Indigenous non combatants...but there's no official army fighting us in Iraq...there are no uniforms, they are labelled "insurgents" from other countries, even though recent reports show that on our latest offensive, "steel curtain" or some such john wayne swaggering named horse shit, the vast majority of killed and captured are, in fact, Iraquis...Not battallions of republican gaurd in uniform, but the equivalent of the cong, who looked like, you guessed it, civilians.
So, what do you think is going to happen? Please choose from the following:
A. We can't differentiate between combatants and civilians, let's back off...
B. Light those motherfuckers UP!
If you chose A, you should be euthanized.
This is a WP round exploding...

White Phosphorus - A Filler, which burns extremely hot and gives off a thick cloud of white smoke. A unique characteristic of white phosphorus (WP) is that it burns when exposed to air. WP rounds can be very hazardous and should be approached with caution. WP UXO have been found on ranges that were not completed burned out because of a crust that has been formed over the once exposed filler sealing it from air. If disturbed the crust could crack and expose the WP filler to air thus re-igniting the round. WP is used mainly in grenades, mortars and projectiles.
Now, while there are smoke grenades for location and status of troops on the ground, and signal mortars for similar purposes, grenades, mortars and projectiles are by and large used to kill people.
I submit to you they lit those motherfuckers up, with the blessing of the criminals running this war and this country.
I can't wait to hear the "collateral damage" claims undoubtedly coming from the pentagon some time in a weak dicked "we regret the...". "It was necessary to"... and
"civilian casualties were, regrettably, unavoidable in a campaign of this scope".

"This is a slaughter"...Animal Mother, Full Metal Jacket.
No shit.

Wednesday, November 16, 2005


I saw it in the sky this morning...mocking me. This explains the bizzare dreams I've been having for the last 3 days and that twitchy, fucked up feeling I've had as well. Here's one of those dreams, as I remember it.
I'm in a house with a former clinical supervisor, she is all in a tizzy because "someone" has been spreading rumors of us having an affair, her tizzy involves a complete failure of motor skills and she falls over backwards to the floor. I pick her up, and as I'm carrying her outside, a truck pulls up. There's this amalgon of rednecks I've known since high school driving and some monkey looking guy on the passenger side.
I stand at the side of the road asking the driver why he's spreading these rumors...He says I'm not the only one who can dance with the doctor and begins to speed off. I scream some volley of expletives at him at which he screeches to a halt and leaps from the truck instructing monkey boy to take the wheel as he charges me.
And then it's on...we fight. We are pretty evenly matched, but then I get him on the ground and proceed to kick his ass without mercy. He starts laughing at me, even as I continue to pummel him...then I wake up.
Fucking moon...

Monday, November 14, 2005


My real horoscope makes mention of "a short term loss that will lead to a long term gain". As with all horoscope fortune teller like things, this says volumes or nothing, depending on your lithium levels. I don't read horoscopes as a rule, but I read the one in the chronicle every once in awhile because it has a common sense lean to it.
Speaking of common sense, with the exception of our county, every county in Texas overwhelmingly voted to pass prop 2, the gay marriage ban. Despite the fact that it was written by a neanderthal so poorly that it could nullify not only those deviants attempts at usurping a divine right available to only a man and a woman, but that man and woman who enter into a marriage, whether it be in a lily festooned church or a hand shake and a french kiss after a jello shot in some bar off 4th street. This amendment will be challenged post haste in the appelate and superior courts, and god willing, overturned as the short sighted, narrow minded piece of legislation it is.
Speaking of god...where the fuck is he these days?.
I find it hard to believe that he's up there on his throne scratching his head thinking " OK...they're this far from getting it right...I'm not gonna intervene...gonna give 'em some more time before I let the amphibians take over".
I imagine a conversation between god, St. Peter and Moses...Kind of a daily briefing if you will.
god: So, are things going in processing?
St.Peter: Well, Boss...not so good. The ratio of admission or banishment continues to give banishment a growing edge. Currently, 7 of every 10 arrivals are banished, 3 are given entrance to heaven.
god: Moses, can you break these figures down for me?Are there that many sinners down there? My figures show an opposite, in terms of believers v. me out here.
Moses: Well, Mr. G...While it appears that there are more believers than sinners on earth, a healthy portion of believers have twisted the doctrine and fooled themselves that they are holy, when in fact they are not.
St. Peter: I can vouch for Moses on this one god, I see them everyday at the gate...they plead worthiness at the gate, but, when examined closely, it's shallow.
god: Please elaborate, I'm intrigued.
St. Peter: For example, this woman was killed by a homeless person the other day, a tradgedy. She was a pillar in her community, a devout member of her church and chairwoman of the churches " drive for decency" council for 5 years.
god: Surely she was admitted to heaven, right?
St. Peter: No, your majesty, she was banished to burn in hell.
god: Why? And why did the homeless person kill her?
St. Peter: She was offended by the homeless living in the park by her high rise condo, and was active in the effort to get them pushed out...she did nothing to help them and was repulsed by thier presense in the park...they interferred with her once weekly walks with her children, a homeless man approached them and did his magic tricks...she was offended and after a verbal exchange, spit on him. He lost his mind and broke her neck.
god: Why was the confrontation so volatile?
Moses: Well...OG...The other 6 days of the week a nanny took the kids to the park, and his magic tricks were routine, he was harmless, she had never encountered him before and wasn't aware that this was routine for a trip to the park.
god: What became of the nanny?
St. Peter: She was detained and fired and deported back to columbia.
god: And what is she doing now?
Moses: She's a whore and a mule for a drug lord.
god: And what of the homeless man?
St. Peter: He was shived at Rikers Island over a sandwich and died on the dining room floor while other inmates kicked him around.
god: And what else can you tell me about this man?
St.Peter : He was a teacher before he became homeless.
Moses: He was also afflicted with a madness, a madness that caused his homelessness.
St. Peter: When he was a teacher, nothing gave him more joy than to delight his students with magic tricks, even in his madness, he remembered that gift.
god: And what became of him?
St. Peter: He was admitted to heaven, and now teaches and does magic on the childhood cancer cloud complex.
god: Even though he killed a christian woman?
Moses: She wasn't christian, she was just pretending to be.
god: What do you mean pretending?
Moses: There's alot of that going around these days OG...maybe you should focus more of your attention on earth instead of mars. 3 out of 7 is not encouraging.
god: But things are going so much better there.
St. Peter: It's still early in the game for've gone slower there ( St.Peter's pager goes off ) The numbers are down because there are many who believe like this woman...religion has become commercial and crass and status based, and increasingly comingled with politics.
god: Comingled?
St. Peter: I gotta a columbian woman waiting at the gates.
god: That columbian woman? Get back to me on this comingling thing.
St. Peter: You got it ... see you in the morning.
Moses: Yessir...that's the one...maybe you should review condom failure rates again...I know you don't like them, but they're not just for birth control anymore.
God shuffles his feet. I kind of wandered...sue me. :)

Sunday, November 13, 2005


As soon as halloween was just a glint in some hypoglycemic kids eye as he foamed chocolate fizz out of nose and mouth while convulsing on the bathroom floor, the television lights up with ads...most of them bypassing thanksgiving all together, and going straight to the mother of all debt fests, christmas.
Now, for the record, I love halloween, diabetic comas notwithstanding...and the fact that the religio-nutbags get thier collective panties in a wad each and every year, pointing to some satanic celebration going on under our very noses. To them I say where is the guest of honor??? In all the years I have been here for halloween, not once have I encountered the dark one unless it was a hershey special dark short, you are full of shit, halloween is about candy and parties and fun. Get over yourselves already.
Thanksgiving is my favorite. No gifts beyond the joy of gathering family and friends together and eating like there's no tomorrow. That's it, food,family and fun, except for that little detail of us systematically eradicating the race that introduced us to this past time in the first place... if you believe the pilgrims. I like food, family and fun and remembering the spirit of the day, pre small pox blankets and wholesale slaughter. Plus, you got that no gift thing going for it.
But, christmas...that's a whole 'nother critter. From now until the super bowl we will be inundated with buy buy buy! Gone are the days of " I sold my pocket watch to buy you this brush for your beautiful hair " and " I sold my hair to buy you this watch fob"... Now it's " I took out a second mortgage to buy you this holiday cruise" and "I sold a kidney to buy you this love me now, right? Please tell me the dialysis in my future will be worth it".
Have you seen that cruiseline commercial? Everyone's walking around with mini ships under their arms and the little girl who is so cute she should be thrown under a sand truck or abducted and held for ransom by the somalian pirates that will attack your ship if you come within 100 miles of the coast of africa, and take even more of your money because you got so caught up in the commercial end of this holiday that you bought a fucking cruise to begin with.
Whatever happened to home made cookies?

Saturday, November 12, 2005


I was gonna say "Please tell me you didn't name your dog after Godsmack."

"Hajimart" No shit. Every little convenience store and gas station. We don't need explosive growth due entirely to foreigners; legal and illegal, dammit.

How 'bout some good pics and stories about your ink?
Anonymous | 11.11.05 - 12:23 am | #

Thanks for the we go.

I bought the first Godsmack CD and then promptly forgot about it. I wouldn't name a bowel movement after them...well...I might, but it would have to be a really unfufilling bowel movement...kind of like Godsmack. Sullivan came to us with his name. he was a dump job puppy at my vet with parvo, dumped by the original owners and saved by my vet and then palmed off on me and Ann,because we liked black dogs. If the piece of shit human that ditched him named him after a godsmack song, that's on him. What godsmack song are you referring to anyway? Like I said...I didn't give them much time in the player.He's just Sully...

Hajimarts...There's this one at Cumberland and congress where I buy smokes and scratch tickets on a semi regular basis, and the guy there reminds me of the guy that tortures Marky Mark's character in Three kings...he doesn't look like that guy, but he sounds like him ..."my friend" and "my main man"'s creepy.
But, in the long run, anybody that can cash wetback paychecks for exhorbitant fees and then take some more money for beer and lottery has got a line on what could possibly be the commerce industry (for the south anyway) of the 21st century. By and large, I don't have a problem with the Hajimarts...these guys are just taking advantage of the promise of america...remember that? You know, that place where you could bring your sorry huddled masses ass and make something of yourself?
Somewhere along the line, americans forgot that they were a part of that too, and regulated themselves to the other side of the american dream that's populated by ssi claims and food stamps and workers comp claims and lawsuits. At some point, hard work and results left the consciousness of a large portion of the public and opened the door for a full scale fucking of the system.
Leaving it wide open for these ragheads to move in and steal our thunder. And we deserve it.
Narrow minded bastards we are.

There are precious few good pics of my ink, and even fewer stories. I am colored by choice. To my peril, apparently. Why am I tattooed? Because my dad was...that's the easy answer...But I lived in Austin and was of the age to partake in the punk scene that exploded here in the early 80' was an accepted practice and besides, some of the best artists going were here. I was picky...and lucky. I'm not ashamed of any ink I got, and any I had covered up was driven more by bad art than anything 25 years I've covered up 2.
There was this kid I had in treatment that showed up years later...covered in Tats...I wasn't into it that much then and asked him why. He was trying to cover himself up, like he could recreate himself in know, get away and deny his past, become someone else. It didn't work...he drove his motorcycle head on into a truck to solve his problem...he couldn't cover himself up, no matter how hard he tried.
I don't try to cover myself up...never have. I know who I am and If you don't like can go fuck yourself.

Wednesday, November 09, 2005


In an effort to stimulate our dog remember him, the barky one...I take him on store runs with me daily. In short order he has realized that when I put on my hat and pick up my keys that it's drive time. he has learned the words "store" "ride" and "go" and "him" and the resultant circular motion and enthusiastic barking makes it hard to put his leash on..."leash" is another one of those words that results in a jumping for joy barking like a mother, providing I have put on my hat and picked up my keys.
Like a good soldier, he jumps in the car and takes his place in the back seat. I lower the windows to head and shoulders level for him to get the smells available to him on our trip. The trips usually involve the exchange of scratch tickets ( I'm about 50 bucks up BTW :) ) at various locations in the hood. New smells. He loves it. Hell, I could probably just reverse to the end of the driveway and pull back in over and over and he would love it.
Routine...and my love of the dog. He's awesome.
He interacts with people he encounters in the parking lots in the strangest way, sometimes it's all waggy tailed good old boy, but sometimes it's a "kill everything" response.
I have noticed that, regardless of color, if you look like a thug, he wants to naturally kick your ass. I love this about Sullivan, a big dog that can discriminate in regards to potential danger...his vibes almost always match mine in terms of questionable characters, and there are many in the parking lot's of the haji marts in my hood.
And I can tell you from experience that nobody wants to fuck with a tattooed guy with a big black dog in the ain't me that scares them off, it's Sully. Nobody fucks with us. I love it.
And while I fully believe he would defend me like my best friend ever Buddy did, we haven't had the chance yet. He is so imposing that people just don't bother to find out.
And that's a good thing, after all, it's a just a ride to the store. With teeth.
No interpreter needed
I hate it when I dream about work. I'm there for eight hours a day and I'd just as soon not spend another eight hours at night even if it's just in a dream. This dream was the kind where you wake up and then fall right back into it when you get back to sleep. The whole dream revolved around having this coat that my dream-self usually wore to work. During all the different parts of the dream, I was always waiting for a service to come and line the inside of the coat with Teflon. What a great metaphor. Of course, all sorts of other things happened too, but since it involves real people that I work with I'll refrain from any more details. And as much as I hate dreaming about work, I'd be happy for one more dream if meant I actually ended up with the Teflon lined coat. Because that could really come in handy.

Tuesday, November 08, 2005


If it wasn't so pathetic, and baldly corrupt, and insanely conniving. Tom DeLay and his weasel are trying to get his trial moved out of Travis County because he can't possibly get a fair trial here. While no city has been suggested by DeLay's weasel...Texas law mandates that the trial be held in the defendants home county. BINGO! They are playing the law to get this trial moved to Fort Bend County...Sugarland, Texas is in this county, that's where DeLay is from. It is primarily republican and supportive of him.
This bullshit started with the removal of Judge Perkins, because he was "biased", because he contributed to democratic organizations. Fine, but when our DA started an inquiry into the political support of the judge assigned to pick DeLays new judge, there was a firestorm of wrangling, and before the inquiry could be officially entered, a judge was chosen. The judge assigned was a supporter of republican causes, and although this information came out, it came out after he chose a democrat judge to hear the case. Great! Unless he's in the republican pocket...or a pussy that's easily intimidated. Why else would the republican judge choose him? Well, maybe to avoid more shit coming out about his activities? He is, after all, a member of the Texas Supreme Court ( and I can only assume that means he comes with sour cream and cilantro ) and this fix Delay is accused of surely goes from the bottom to the top of the republican party here in Texas, he's complicite on some level. Or maybe he just had a moment of clarity and remembered that ethical thing for a minute...hang on a sec while I put a cigarette out on my hand for even entertaining that silly notion.
This is a local example of the absolute sham that's going on nationwide with these assholes. Ethics? Please. The folks on capitol hill are having ethics classes this week.
Think about that for a minute.
People who are working at the power base of the United states of rich america are taking time out of thier days to go to ethics classes???
Something is seriously wrong here
If your head hasn't exploded yet...think about it again.
I can't think about it anymore tonight...but here's another funny one for ya...
It was revealed last week that the United states of lets wipe out the middle class through tax cuts for the rich and hikes for know, the backbone of the country but fuck 'em! Were rich, is operating secret prisons around the globe to incarcerate terrorists and terrorize them. High ranking members of the repub-gestapo Bill Frist and some other asshat whose name escapes me demanded an inquiry into the source of the leak, only to reverse themselves hours later when they learned the leak may have originated within thier own party...HAHA...
Oh last thing. It was reported today that the military has used willy pete and a "new" formulation of napalm on civilians in Iraq. You know...the shit that melts you.
What's next? Flamethrowers?
I'll try for something lighter tomorrow...I promise.
Good night and bad dreams.

Monday, November 07, 2005


I'm pretty sure I covered this way back when when I was writing my autobiography, but it's part of the folklore of the band and in my estimation, worthy of retelling.
I hired this guy when I was the milieu Coordinator of TTC, he had considerable experience and presented himself as the kind of guy I was looking for to complement my team. I was right, he was a good addition to the mix...he had a kind of down home sensibility that blended well with the rest of the team.
He also had a history, like most of us in the biz, a history of substance abuse. He was a hardcore drinker and a pill head. Two habits that far outweighed his talent as a social worker, because he LET it. To his credit, he left the field before his habits destroyed his legacy...he was good at what he did, it just consumed him to do it I guess.
Anyway...He shows up at the house one night...already drunk with some fajita meat and a sack full of pecans...he's gonna smoke some fajitas for us. So...he fires up the grill and we sit down at the bar for some conversation.
I've got a CD of Black Sabbath Vol. IV playing and the conversation goes as follows:
Him: ( pulling a packet from his jacket pocket ) "Hey want some rupies"?
Me: " No thanks man...I don't do pills".
Him: " Hey man...I've got a cassette copie of volume IV in the want me to go get it"?
Me: " This is the CD playing now...."
Him: " pulls that packet again ) You guys want some rupies"
Me and Ann: "No thanks...don't do pills...."
Him: checks the fire and dumps some more GREEN pecans on a wimpy fire...throws the meat on.
This exchange went on for at least 2 hours,and I mean the exact same exchanges...the rupies finally caught up with him and he went home. The fire never grew and the meat never really got hot enough to was raw skirt steak HEAVILY smoked in green pecans.
We joked that he was making jerky. But oddly enough, the next morning, the fajitas were still raw. But our deck was permeated by the smell of roasted pecans.
I've got this copy of Sabbath Vol. IV on cassette in the truck...priceless.


Our drummer, and dear friend Badger is having cataract ( and all this time I thought he drove a rincoln!!!) surgery this wed.. He wanted to have this jam we had yesterday beforehand. I'm not sure why the two events are connected. I guess maybe he was worried. He's funny like that, sentimental and shit. But that's why we love him. We've known each other since we were kids. And while the definition of what makes a friend has changed over the years, he has been a constant in my life...often taken for granted as the other bullshit about life got in the way, but never forgotten. Always in my thoughts, between today and tomorrow. And when we get together, it's like no time has passed. We pick right up where we left off the last time, and we've got the pictures to prove it.
I'll be thinking about you Billy...I got your back. :)
See you at the shop in a couple of weeks...

Sunday, November 06, 2005

It was so worth the blister
The band got together today for the first time in a very long time. We played, we barbecued dinner, we played some more. We came up with some new stuff and rehashed some old stuff, including one old song that has a bass line that just kills me and was most likely responsible for the enormous blister on the middle fingertip of my left hand. It wasn't the smartest choice in songs to play after a long hiatus, but what the hell; we had a good time with it.

Here's the instigator of the get-together, our drummer Bill who roused us from our long slumber:

And my best friend, LT:

And here's Rob:

And myself:

P.S. No get-together is without some reminiscing and this is a reminder for Rob to blog about the time, long ago, that his old friend Dan dropped by for one of our jam sessions.

I didn't go to the rally today, after consulting on the phone with my friends, we decided it was pointless...the anti klan people were relegated to an area so far away from city hall that it was impossible to yell them down or respond to the bullshit directly. I wanted to engage in some face to face with these assholes, but the city saw to it that I couldn't.
I could have showed up for the news cameras, but I wanted a direct effect. I wanted a fight. Short of that, I blew it off.
And I'm glad I did.
12 klansman showed up at city hall...they weren't dressed up. 3000 anti klan demonstrators showed up, they were dressed up, and putting on a show. Good for them. There were 2 was an outstanding warrant, the other was somebody brandishing a club and "menacing".
This is a demonstration?
This was a worn out hate group who could only muster 12 people to come to a city in support of a fucked up proposition, countered by 3000 people who were undoubtedly more focused on the proposition.
And good for's wrong. I hope it doesn't pass. I don't believe the 12 members of the klan could make a difference on the kind of gravy served with chicken fried steak much less an amendment that is clearly biased and homophobic.
This is like going to see your favorite band but the guitar player is so wasted he can't's just not fair, and more than a little disappointing.
I remember when marches and protests were real and makes me sad and makes me feel really really old, in that "I remember when" sort of way.
It's a joke. And not a good one.

Thursday, November 03, 2005


Here's the line of comments I got on my post "It's a rally mofos!"...and of course it's immediately misinterpreted...

Because, of course, the Klan and the Christian/Family Values Right are the same in your knee-jerk, pathological, Christophobic fervor.
And then you'll feel like you made a difference for the better...and then pat yourself some more.
Anonymous | 11.02.05 - 12:25 am | #

So I try to clarify my meaning for the retarded amongst us that fail to understand...

Man...are you SO off the mark on this one! The klan is the klan, I don't care what party they vote for, or support for that matter.
Christian and or family values are not the klan, but that's what they're espousing on this swing through town. They are nothing but racist,bigoted opportunists.Jumping on whatever agenda that suits them and their hate.
The fact that prop 2 is supported by conservatives is just an ironic footnote to me.
My involvement in this is about humanity...not politics.
And when we shame them off the city hall steps this saturday, your'e god damn right I'll be patting myself on the back.
For everyone that joined us.
You need to learn there are two socks people put their shit in.
el robbo | Homepage | 11.02.05 - 9:12 pm | #

Anon refuses to understand, I'm not suggesting he's a retard, but I'm beginning to have my doubts...check this shit...

but you assign my beliefs with theirs and denigrate us as one and the same.
Anonymous | 11.02.05 - 9:29 pm | #

If he/she is a retard, he/she's a high functioning one who spells real good...if you know what I mean.I respond, hoping for a reasonable response.

What??? PLEASE elaborate on this line of thinking. Are you a racist? A homophobe?
A Klan-ster? Or just a conservative?
There is a difference.
el robbo | Homepage | 11.02.05 - 9:43 pm | #

This is what I get...

I'm just a believer
Anonymous | 11.02.05 - 10:30 pm | #

And with that, I have lost all respect for this troll...

What??? Are you that lame that you can't answer a simple question? You are falling down on the job Anon...I'm disappointed, but not surprised.
A believer in what exactly? It can't be that Monkees song from the 60's could it?
Ha Ha....
el robbo | Homepage | 11.02.05 - 10:51 pm | #

And then the truth comes out...

JC, reverend. I'm a radical, ultra, arch, far-right wing fundamentalist extremist...I guess. Just like the Klanclowns, right? And...nevermind.
Anonymous | 11.03.05 - 12:09 am | #

Anon GUESSES he's all of those'd call that CONFLICTED. I don't know if Anon's a "klanclown" but he is definately an "Assclown".

Oh dear Jesus.
special k | Homepage | 11.03.05 - 8:50 pm | #

Special K lends the voice of reason...why do I waste my time?

Check back Saturday for pics and stories of why I waste my time on these sorry bastards called the klan.

I love trolls like's too fucking easy to be right. Maybe that's because of my knee-jerk, pathological, Christophobic fervor.

HA HA...
You can't win if you don't play
How many years have we had the lotto in Texas? I really don't know, but however long it's been, during that time I have probably bought a maximum of 20 tickets. It's not that I haven't been able to spare a buck once and a while, it just the odds of winning are so astronomical that it didn't make sense to bother with the hassle of having cash in hand (my wallet is always empty of cash), visiting the store and then checking the numbers the next morning. But it has come to my attention that my odds of landing a good paying job with a decent retirement plan are also astronomical. So what the hell, I'm going to buy a lotto ticket now and again. Rob's covering the scratch off angle and for him, it's entertainment more than any thing else. I don't see where I can get any entertainment value out of buying a piece of paper with some numbers on it, but maybe that slim possibility, that little glimmer of hope, is worth throwing a dollar away.

Wednesday, November 02, 2005


Today at work I was inundated by fliers posted outside of elevators announcing an anti klan rally to coincide with our visit from the hooded ones this Saturday. There were vehicles driving around campus with people calling out through megaphones to join together in solidarity against hate and meet the klan at city hall and let them know they aren't welcome here. Yesterday, on the west mall, a group of Indian students were putting on a demonstration celebrating the culture of India and diversity. Today a group of Mexican-american students were doing the same in the same spot...on the day of the dead, which was an added bonus for us, since we both like the props of the day of the dead...decorative skulls in particular. But it was the clothing and the food and the music that filled the west mall with the essence of these cultures that struck me.
I wasn't too keen on the Indian hip hop, but that's a taste thing.
These young people were recognizing and celebrating their diversity, and sharing it with the droves of all manner of color, creed and station that happened by. It was a cool thing to watch and, peripherally, be a part of.
Seeing all of this reminded me of when I was a young person, full of life and full of myself, and my friends and I were active in political causes. Dedicated enough to spend a week enlarging the above image plus another one that I coudn't find on google to 18x36 signs to carry in this one particular march that was sponsered by the John Brown Anti klan commitee...John Brown was a white man who was executed in 1850 for supporting an end to slavery, but it grew into a multi group extravaganza...the bread not bombs people were there...the no nukes people were there, bikes not bombs, a smattering of all groups supporting peace and tolerance. From the rally point at the gazebo on auditorium shores it was diverse people as far as the eye could see down the hike and bike trail joined together to tell the klan to give it up already and to get the fuck out of our town. And they did. Out numbered and overwhelmed, they jumped onto their buses and hightailed it out of Austin. It was a great victory, and beyond the pelting of the buses with hiking trail gravel, there was no violence, nobody got hurt, and as far as I know, there were no arrests, the police behaved themselves. It was all good.
And,as far as I know, they haven't reprised that visit in any meaningful way, until now.
I busted out the shirt I bought at that, with a death head shroud pulling his hood back to display the nuke symbol with boney fingers, proclaiming "No Nukes" was paper could see through it. And beyond my surprise that it still fit me, what struck me most was how transparent it was. Like it was diluted with time.
And then I remembered the students I've seen over the last few days, and it's colors were vibrant again.
And suddenly I have that giddy feeling I had back then, and the chance to be a part of something so long in the making, again.