NEW CHAPTER

Up at FULLMETALJACKASS

FYI

A NOTE IN THE MAILBOX

When Ann and I got home yesterday there was a note in the mailbox from a friend of ours. I snatched it out and carried it into the house before reading it ( I had groceries in one hand, keys in the other ). I read the note...stopped by, blah blah, lost my phone so I don't have your number anymore,blah blah, I set Marks ashes free today, you expressed interest in having some of them, these ashes are for you...
Whoa.
I went back out front to the mailbox and reached inside, and lo and behold, there was a ziplock bag containing the mortal remains of our fallen friend.
Yesterday was the one year anniversary of his death.
We still think of you often Mark, and wish you were here.

PICTURES...RANDOM

Here's a shot from the swingin' 60's display at the LBJ library...thank god for photoshop...



Here's one of my Boxies after a soak and a feed...



And here's a picture of my losing tickets...I'm a scratch head...I took 3...turned it into 15...turned it into three...and so it go's



And the state government says they don't promote gambling...they promote education funding from the proceeds...but the money isn't going there.
So...where is it going? I don't know...I just have this compulsion to Scratch...SCRATCH SCRATCH!!!!IEYYYYYYYYYEEEEEE! Gimme a ticket man!
C'mon! I'll suck yer...way of making shitloads of money for the state of Texas !!! Really...just trade me this winning ticket for 2 junior break the banks
and one triple bankroll.
Names that aren't designed to attract the weak...cause you're stand up...this is for the chidren of texas..I'm playing for the children of texas.
Oh, who am I kidding? I'm an addict...and this is your way of allowing me to exercise my habit.
A dollar here and a dollar there.
Someday I'm gonna win a million...
Yeah...sure I am.
Fuck you Texas.
Really.

TALKING POINTS FOR RED HERRINGS

Our political landscape is currently littered with so much shit, it's hard to take a step without soiling your soul, erm...shoes. We have the reality of the war in Iraq.
Speaking of...did anyone else catch the premier of "Over There" on wed.? It was intriguing, as much for the fact of how the war is presented, but more importantly, that it was even allowed to air.
But anyway..."the war on terror" is now being called the "struggle against global extremism"...I think a better name is "rich neocons doing whatever they can to steal as much as they can before the second term is over".
They are trying to distract you and me. It's like reissuing Grand Funks "E Pluribus Funk" as "The greatest fucking album...EVER" and changing the silver coin cover to a gold one.
A turd is a turd.
Supreme court nominee John Roberts Jr. "Can't recall serving on the steering commitee of the federalists".
That John Bolton asshat "can't recall being questioned about his questionable requests for information on CIA analysts" that pissed him off.
I did lots of drugs growing up and my memory is still sharp and surprisingly intact...what were these two fuckwits smoking and snorting that renders them unable to recall significant events in thier lives? Nothing...because they are fucking lying.
English authorities have already captured the suspects in last weeks attempted reprise of the bombings in London. Sure, they killed a brazilian electrician in the process ( risidual american effect on the "struggle against global extremism" ) but they got the bastards...in less than a week. Way to go, England. Please don't let Bushco take any of your thunder.
Ann Coulter was quoted as saying the right "has the media now"...two things about this Ann, where the fuck have you been? and what about the continuing cries of the unholy cabal that is the liberal media???? Bitch.
I keep reaching out, trying to grab it, but everytime I do, it isn't there.
Perfect! Keep it up you assholes...the wall is coming, and it's closer than you think.

ANOTHER FREAK MOVES TO TEXAS

I urge you to go read this article :"meet the new neighbors". This is some scary shit. And I agree with the notion that whatever happens, it won't be pretty.
Crazy ass mormon polygamists...And Warren Jeffs is apparently King Krazy.

GOD DAMN WHAT A WEEK WHAT A MONTH WHAT A YEAR

I rolled off the books at the local...if you go 6 months without paying your dues, you doodlebug, and you have to appeal to the international brotherhood to get reinstated. i thought I was at 5 months and was waiting for my vacation fund to build up to pay my back dues. As it turns out, I should be ok with the union thing and there's enough $$$ in my account to pay back dues and death benefits AND buy a feul pump for the Rodeo.
I totally spaced on my tickets from last month and got a "warrant warning" from muni court. So today I went and set a court date...sept. 12 it is. however, I can show up at any time between now and then with proof that I met the deadline to renew my inspection and registration and they will still wave the fines for 20 bucks. Just like Toody always said...flittin' around the brink. It's an art form I guess. One that I am destined to repeat every decade or so, apparently, until I get it right. If I ever get it right.
A couple of weeks ago over drinks, I asked a friend if he had any coke...he said not on him, and my other friend remarked " I thought you couldn't do that stuff" ( because of my hypertension ) and my response was " yeah, but I don't care anymore " which was met with "man don't say that"...
They knew I was drunk, and the reality was I didn't want any coke, but at the same time I really didn't care anymore. I have been careful with my health in regards to the hypertension within reason...meaning I get away with what I can get away with, and drugs like coke are on the definite no list.
Maybe it was an impulsive drunk stupid thing, maybe it was a lame assed attempt to gather my friends around me in a time of need...no check that...desperation to have my friends see the shape I'm in. Whatever it was it didn't work. They dropped me off at my house when the drinking was done.
And there I was, still wallowing in my own shit...feeling sorry for myself, drunk and sloppy.
A couple of days later I unloaded all of this on a friend...the hopelessness, the fear, the anger and resentment...the tears. The ocean of tears born of frustration and self pity that you can only unload on your best fucking friend.
And she listened, and she asked the hard questions, and she hugged me. And she had the filter to sort out what was me with a buzz and me with a hurt. And she helped me.
And a couple of days later me and my friend celebrated our 11th anniversary. And I felt better cause I had at least one person in the world that I knew, without a doubt, no questions, had my back.
I still have that lingering "don't care" thing following me around, but it's lessened and while I'm not exactly climbing out of the hole I dug for myself I haven't lost a rung for a few days.
Fuck it indeed.

SO, WE WENT TO THE LBJ LIBRARY

But first we had lunch at Los Altos...Tex Mex on the service road just north of the library. I didn't get stoned because I had the good sense to remember that getting that way generally renders me useless and anxious and paranoid unless I had been drinking to the point where I shouldn't be driving in the first place.
That sounds like a fun date dunnit?
The display was a lot smaller than we imagined, but it was still pretty cool. A short overview of our stroll down the path of hippy-ville. Probably the coolest thing for me was the section dedicated to R & B and motown...they had the butterfly dresses worn by the Supremes on display and a bunch of other Al Green related stuff.
It was a nice reminder of how much the african american community contributed to the hippy movement.
There were also posters from the fillmore east and the Austin equivilant ,The Vulcan Gas Company.
I would give it a small but cool 7.5 out of 10.
I brought the camera, but the flash rule was in place and I couldn't find the menu command to turn my flash off...so alas...no pics.

ANN AND I HAVE A DATE

Tomorrow, Ann is working a half day for overtime. But after, we are going to the LBJ library at UT to check out the latest exhibit " The swingin' 60's" an interactive retrospective of the decade that made it possible for us to be hair farmers in the 70's. It should be cool...I got to get stoned for this. Plus there's lunch at Los Altos beforehand. I'm taking the camera.
look for an update tomorrow.

I DON'T KNOW ABOUT YOU BUT I HEAR BANJO MUSIC

I cracked my ass up over the headline, THIS people is breaking NEWS.
(Seriously...good for you Dr. Jeff...somebodies got to do it, and I'm glad it's you ... trenchmouth is an ugly ugly thing )


Fighting toothlessness in Appalachia
Mobile dental clinics hope to brighten smiles

Thursday, July 21, 2005; Posted: 10:31 p.m. EDT (02:31 GMT)


STANTON, Kentucky (AP) -- With a silvery Airstream trailer as a dental office, Dr. Jeff Bailey goes about his work, brightening the often gapped smiles of people in a part of the country with the highest rate of toothlessness in America.

Bailey, one of many volunteers who are bringing free mobile dental care to poor people in the hills and hollows of Appalachia, sees case after case of severe tooth decay and gum disease -- the consequences of sugary foods, cigarettes, chewing tobacco, a lack of fluoridated water, and simple neglect.

"People have a mind-set that if your grandfather and father were in dentures, then you're going to be in dentures, too," the dentist said. "We need to break that attitude."

The volunteers are trying to reach people who cannot afford dental care but make too much money to qualify for Medicaid.

The central Appalachian states lead the nation in toothlessness. More than 32 percent of Tennessee residents surveyed last year had lost six or more teeth because of decay or gum disease, according to the Centers for Disease Control. That number was 38 percent in Kentucky and 43 percent in West Virginia, which holds the distinction of the most toothless state. Kentucky ranked No. 1 in toothlessness in 2003.

"The problem is almost epidemic in the state," said Dr. Gerald Ferretti, a dental professor at the University of Kentucky, which has four dental vans. "Dental care is a very, very critical need."

Bailey is part of an effort organized by Southern Baptist churches. Other charitable organizations have opened free clinics in church buildings or held dental-care events in Wal-Mart parking lots across the region, handing out free samples of toothpaste, floss and toothbrushes.
Changing attitudes one by one

On a recent day dozens of people made their way into the Airstream parked outside Stanton Baptist Church 45 miles from Lexington, while clowns entertained the waiting crowds. Bailey handles only fillings and cleanings in his mobile dental office. But the University of Kentucky vans are equipped to take X-rays and pull teeth.

Jill Adams, a West Liberty bookkeeper for a surveying company, said the mobile clinic will help her and her children keep their teeth. She took her twin sons, 8-year-olds Aaron and Barrin, to the Airstream, so that Bailey could apply dental sealants to prevent cavities.

"Those sealants are expensive, $25 per tooth, and I don't have insurance," Adams said. "I thought it was wonderful. I would have not expected something like this. I was really caught off guard."

Organizers of the mobile dental offices said too many people in mountain communities have the mistaken notion that losing teeth is a normal part of growing old. Some do not seem to realize that teeth are intended to last a lifetime.

"People feel like they can do without teeth, or that they can always buy false ones," said David Aker, mountain missions director for the Kentucky Baptist Convention.

Ferretti said he hopes the university's mobile dental service can help change that attitude by instilling good habits from the start.

"We're trying to get to the children as early as we can," he said.

PERSONALITIES ARE CONTAGIOUS

My usual Journeyman has been reassigned temporarily to an off site location far north from where we normally work.Since my car is down and another
journeyman's apprentice lives a stones throw from the off site location there has been a switch-a-roo authorized by the foreman.
The journeyman I've been working with for the last year presents himself as a dyed in the wool redneck electrician, we could'nt be more mismatched if you tried, He's a redneck, I'm a ...god...how would you describe me? Ex hippy, ex punk, redneck at heart kid that had the unfortunate fate of growing up Texas.
Over the course of the year, I have been able to forge a working relationship based on our common ground.
No...not the redneck thing, the texas thing. And plus he has a high work ethic like me, like I had in the psychic wars, I just needed to learn about the song and dance of electricians and apply it...for my redneck journeyman, it was as close as you can get to right on, or right on, preferably.
I've learned to appreciate this over the last 14 or so months and even to apply it to my own craft.
But now I find myself working with a different kind of electrician.He has the same knowledge, in fact, he was a journeyman way before my usual journeyman, so obstensibly, he knows more than the former.
But there's a problem. He's me in 5 years. This guy is 5 years older than me, but grew up in the same austin I did, did the same shit that I did, he is austin hippy, just like me, only 5 years down the line. He's stumbly and scattered, but always gets there in the end, almost the exact opposite of my usual journeyman...no method that you can discern, kind of a scattershot approach to the task at hand, but you always arrive at the same spot in the end.
Give or take 10 minutes or a day.But there is no question that he understands electricity, he just understands it in a different way, I am the lucky recipient of both approaches. I look at this guy and see myself... sort of, cause when I'm with my usual journeyman I'm all focused and task oriented, and when I work with the other one it's all laid back and scattered,but we get to the same spot in the end.
But I manage, in both situations.
In looking back on my time in the psychic wars, I was the distillation of these 2 guys, focused enough to get to the goal but stumbly enough to get you to play along.
Fuck...I'm Columbo.
And I really wasn't going there when I started.

HEY JOONYER! LETS TURN OVER THAT ROW V. WADE ABORTION THINGY RIGHT AWAY!

And so it begins...John Roberts Jr. is Bunnypants pick to replace O'connor on the supreme(ly fucked up) court. He's obviously pro life, as evidenced by this quote from 91:

"We continue to believe that Roe was wrongly decided and should be overruled. As more fully explained in our briefs, filed as amicus curiae, in Hodgson v. Minnesota, 110 S. Ct. 2926 (1990); Webster v. Reproductive Health Services, 109 S. Ct. 3040 (1989); Thornburgh v. American College of Obstetricians and Gynecologists, 476 U.S. 747 (1986); and City of Akron v. Akron Center for Reproductive Health, 462 U.S. 416 (1983), the Court's conclusions in Roe that there is a fundamental right to an abortion and that government has no compelling interest in protecting prenatal human life throughout pregnancy find no support in the text, structure, or history of the Constitution."

It is likely that Roberts's own opinion on abortion and birth control will be questioned during his confirmation hearings before the U.S. Senate Committee on the Judiciary.*

* Yeah...sure it will, but it won't make a bit of difference. He is also in line with Bunnypants anti environment asshattery.
In other words, he's a shoe in. And he's young, at 49, this fuckstick could make our lives miserable for a LOOOONG time.
So this is what "moderate" looks like in 2005...jeez.

I am still asking where do these people come from, and why can't we get the rest of the world to see what the fuck is going on in this country and put a stop to it?
Here's another example, hot off the presses...Bunnypants originally said he would fire any staffer involved in the outing of Plame, after a series of hiccups and stonewalling when Rove was fingered as the leak, sir lying ass has changed the rhetoric to "anyone who commited a crime" in regard to the Plame outing would be fired. What a slimey, offensive asshole.If this were high school, someone would sneak up on him in the locker room and beat him with a sock full of wood screws and leave a note pinned to his shirt that said simply "knock it the fuck off, asshole".
It is so fucking obvious that this is a ploy to cover Rove ( bunny can't take a piss without Karl holding his dick ) and I'll bet dollars to donuts that the democrats let him get away with it.
There are carpetbaggers in the white house and they are robbing us blind, of our money, of our credibility and of our lives.
What continues to amaze me is most of these fucks learned their chops with Reagan and Iran-Contra, but here they are, shaping the future and fucking you and me.
And when his second term is over, he will leave the white house hunched over with his spoils...
Unless he invades Iran or N. Korea just prior to the election and claims a state of emergency and cancels the election and installs himself as president.
Empire.
Bastards.
It puts me off my supper.

Work has been kicking my butt these last few weeks. In theory, a promotion to L2 means less time on the phones, but my typical luck of the draw landed me promoted in the middle of a busy spell. As a result, I've spent my whole day on the phones just as before except that now I'm also juggling multiple chat windows from L1s needing help with their calls. Most of the employees there have no trouble juggling multiple chat windows while talking on the phone, but they are from the "IM/chat while talking on the phone generation" and had plenty of practice while they were teenagers. I'm from the "parents *might* let you talk on the phone after you finished your homework" generation. Plus, phones had cords back then and there wasn't a whole lot you could do while chained to the wall. And while I've had plenty of practice multitasking in various jobs, this is my first experience with having five or more simultaneous conversations, each one about something different. It takes some getting used to, but I think I'm starting to get the hang of it. Although I must admit I managed to destroy my last stress ball today. Yes, I use a stress ball because it gives me something to smash while I sound all sweet and nice to customers that really should be poked in the eye with a sharp stick. What the heck, all that negative energy has got to go somewhere and it might as well go into a handful of rubbery foamlike stuff. I suppose now that I've exhausted my parents supply of AARP and Heart Hospital stress balls I'll have to go in search for one at a store. Preferably one that holds up a bit better since those promo ones only tend to last a week or so.

AN ARTIFACT OF ME, OF HER, OF A TIME LONG AGO.

I wrote a while back about finding an old friend...Jenny. She had this spiral notebook of songs and musings and drawings from 1974,5 and 6. She sent it to me and it arrived today.
I opened it with reverence, with hesitation, and some relish.
This is archeology people...musings from a time gone, hippies, drugs, innocence and really bad penmanship on my part.
Seriously, though, I pulled that notebook out of it's envelope and was transported to an earlier time...my earlier time...some 30 years ago.
I share some of it with you, worthy or not.:)



and then...



It was actually the tubes that coined white punks on dope, I guess I just loved the question mark upside down cross of the cult...who knows, drugs were involved.
My handwriting sucked though...



To Jenny I say thanks for a concrete reference to the memories...I knew we did all that shit, I just couldn't prove it.
You got the biggest hug coming when I see you.

SHOES

I have a romance with the shoe...you are only as cool as your shoes. Back in the day I had six hole black docs, the epitome of punk around here in those days, but as time went by, the baseline moved. For some time it was docs...I had the 6 hole black commando, I had the 3 hole black gibsons, I had the 8 hole blood ox commandos. I had lots of fucking shoes. Most of them english made, and with the exception of the gibsons, my docs are long gone.
But I still have my grip fast collection. The flames...truely a rock and roll shoe if there ever was one...observe:



These are my special gig shoes...I wore them at Trophys.
But these are my favorites...Gripfast wingtips...steel toed oxfords...and, oddly enough, the required shoe criteria for my job, in fact, I got them out of the closet and cleaned them up to wear tomorrow...observe:



Besides...my cheap ass sketchers smell like ass and my GBX clunkers are too fucking heavy.
Imelda's got nothing on me....:)

DECISIONS DECISIONS...

So...we got this car that needs a fuel pump. A 300 dollar plus fuel pump, I can do the labor, but we don't have a money tree in the back yard. We have temporary wheels but I don't know how long that will last.
I have several guitars, I could sell one of them, but which one? There are only 4 that have any $$$ value, and I won't part with my SG or my ASAT, so that brings it down to 2.
I have some guns, but I might need those someday, so that's out.
We have a mountain of stuff in the den that we haven't looked at in over a year...That's it! Yard sale!
We'll have a yard sale.
CD's, stereo stuff, brick-a-brack...all kinds of shit...even a camper shell for nissan trucks.
Yes...a yard sale.

PORK RINDS AND HOT SAUCE ARE THE NEW DOGGY CRACK



I've been diggin' on this shit for a couple of months now...The sauce changes but the rinds remain the same, sure, I tried bake-n-ettes ( too many crunchy tooth breakers ) and Bea's original ( found a rind with a hair in it ) but I always come back to "Con Gusto" brand...consistantly the best rind around these parts for the money. 99 cents! for a bag of fried pig skin.
Which only proves the maxim that if you put hot sauce on it you can eat it.
I started off with Franks red hot...decent stuff, but this Valentina sauce is the shit, it's got cumin in it or something, I don't know what it is but it rocks.Plus it's less than a dollar for a big bottle...a dollar 86 for a giant one.
And the dogs love it. As evidenced by the strings of drool. Sullivan prefers them with the sauce, beans and theo like them plain, but the drool is common to all three...they love the pig skin...but hey they're dogs...hell, beans eats dog shit for crying out loud, pork rinds are a leg up for her.
But enough about that...pork rinds...
White trash caviar. Really.

SO...I'M OUT HERE ON THE BACK DECK

Because that's the only place where we can get a fucking signal. Imagine if you will, our laptop, sitting on a chair thats sitting on top of our patio table and our antenna is taped to a long piece of aluminum (pronounced all-ooo-miny-yum ) that Ann has been marching around the porch like a munchkin in parade for two days to get this signal. Yay Ann...Don't believe me?

I never lie :)
Anyhoo...it's been an interesting week...we wrapped up our big job in the asphalt lab...I terminated the connections at both switch gears and one panel "hot", meaning it was live voltage...I got to use the hot kit which are special tools that allow crazy people like me and other electricians to connect wires in live panels and switch gears without getting fried.
As you can see from this post I didn't get fried...at work at least...hahahahahahaha!
The Rodeo is still toast...fuel pump...which is inside the gas tank. While I understad the physics around this, I'm still having some trouble with the replacement part costing 300 plus dollars...no.wait.I understand, it's the american way. The way, in this case means car makers sticking it in your butt sideways and you can't do anything about it but offer them a cig when the deed is done...enough about that.
I made a pizza tonight...an el robbo gourmet pie:

It was awesome...
Alfredo sauce...red onion...black olive...garlic sausage...feta and mozzzzzzzarella cheese...
YES...
On a lighter kharmic note, I was examining my ornate box turtles last night, and my youngest male "Nugget" is coming into his own as a man turtle, so his markings are becoming more and more defined. I looked at the top of his head and he has a horse shoe right in the middle....check it out...

Does that not rock?
I'm a proud daddy. :)
It must be a sign...right? Right?!
later............

And then some other stuff happened...
Last night Rob was waiting in the parking lot for me to get off work when the engine in our Rodeo died. We figured it was just out of gas since the gauge doesn't work and our mileage estimates are not always the most accurate. Who could we call? Tracy was probably on his way home from work and neither of us had his mobile number. Of the phone numbers we had, Bill lives in Dripping Springs, Cris lives in Pflugerville, Kyle lives in Lockhart, Rusty lives in Manor and Andrea lives in Elgin. I never realized how few of our friends actually live in Austin. But my brother does still live in Austin and happens to live right down the street from me so he could even swing by our carport and grab the gas can. It seemed like the perfect solution. That is, until we discovered the problem wasn't a lack of gasoline. Nothing to do but just have my brother haul us home where we pondered the inconvenience of taking the bus to work. Rob actually has it pretty easy. Catch the bus at 6:20 AM and ride the same bus all the way to 3 blocks away from work. On the other hand, I have to catch the 5:20 AM bus and make a transfer which would put me to work on time at seven *IF* everything worked out perfectly (yeah, like that is going to ever happen.) I was off today which gave me a chance to alert my boss who generously adjusted my start time to 7:30 for the rest of the week. After a bit more troubleshooting today the verdict on the Rodeo is a bad fuel pump. A $305 fuel pump. That's just for the part; we'll be doing the labor when and if we can ever afford to buy the damn pump. I suppose the only bright side to this is that the pump does come in an assembly with the gas level sensor so replacing it will also fix the gas gauge problem. And the day ended with a bit of good news as Rob has managed to land a vehicle to use for well, we don't how long, but at least for the next couple of days so I'll be spared from having to get up at 3:30 AM tomorrow. Whew.

BEING A PIRATE CAN SUCK

No usable signal for DAYS...meh...we finally sucked it up and came to Maudies for some free wireless we can depend on. Caught up on the blogs and checked our email.
We have not been disappeared by homeland security, I have not made contact with a 480 volt bus bar and cooked myself. In short order: Ann got a bug last tuesday and was reduced to puking in the kitchen sink since I was in the shower, not that she'd puke in the shower (intentionally anyway ) but the porcelin god is right next to the shower), sprained her ankle at lunch and got promoted that afternoon...so it kind of evened out. I think I got the bug, cause it was near pukeville for me this morning ( but because of my iron will I mean absolute fear of puking ) I choked it back.
So...other than bruised ankles and upset stomaches and wireless for shit from home, things are as normal as they can be.
Ann thinks she's cooked up a way to blog without a signal (???) so we may be back to our regular nonsense soon.

GOD DAMN...OUR INTELLIGENCE AGENCIES ARE FUCKING ON IT

Sorry London, really...that this has been brought upon you in a time of what should be joy. The G8 thing, the olympics in 2012 ( will any of us be around at this rate in 2012?). How did they manage to pull this off without the "intelligence community" having a clue? I listened to Air america radio mostly today and watched a bit of CNN when I got home, and while CNN spent it's time focusing on the who, what and where of this crime, they avoided the why angle beyond the oft cried "why can't we all just get along" sentiment.
Air america capitolized on the event to take shots, as well they should, but they also wanted to know why the "intelligence community" missed the boat.
To me, it's simple...imagine if you will, a bunch of radical islamist groups populating London, monitored but not controlled by the british end of this mess (according to reports) sitting around the mosque and realizing that G8 was coming to neighboring Scotland, G8 by and large, attended by leaders of nations they despise. Someone says "what a great opportunity to blow some shit up here in London and the ball starts rolling. Right past the "intelligence community" and into the tubes of London.
What a shame on so many levels.
Our good thoughts are with you.

"HEY...YOU WANNA HITCH TO HIGHLAND MALL"?

And so we went...Highland Mall was the first big mall in Austin and was way out north, far away from my house out by lake austin and my best bud Jenny's digs off of Red Bud Trail. But we hooked up and thumbed it out there...mostly we rode the bus and walked, and smoked joint after joint on the way. To us, it was a symbol of all that was wrong with the world in 1975 ( my best guess ) alternately it was a bunch of stores in one location just waiting to be pillaged by us. And pillage we did. Dolphins are timeless, jumping out of the imaginary surf on the counter in your bathroom and landing by the sink in a glass memory stolen from a specialty store in the mall and that 8 track of Emerson Lake and Palmers Brain Salad Surgery that I shoved down my pants in JC Penneys on our way out...in a fuzz of pot, and hippies and friendship
I spent over an hour and a half on the phone with my partner in the great mall robbery tonight, and while that was a small part of our talk, it generated the most laughs and "oh my gods" .
In between the shoplifting, we harrassed the other consumers asking for the security guards because we were feeling insecure...it was fucking hilarious.
I reconnected with a dear friend after 20 plus years...I found her finally with a google search of just the right spaces and letters. I'd been searching for years.
And we're dancing on that flag all over again.
If I could make a sentence about this experience to sum it up see the above and rule out the punctuation.

Part 5 of Knock at the door is up at Fullmetaljackass in order, where it will be from now on along with other attempts at short fiction.

BAD DREAM


Theotis Droolis Maximus

Our largest dog, Theo, has taken to sleeping between us, usually with his head and shoulders above my head on my pillow. Theo has dreams a lot, but usually they are the typical dog dreams of "chasing rabbits", you know, the flicking of the feet, the curling of lips and the grunts and groans of the chase. But last night was different , the flicking of the feet amounted to punching me in the back...hard and frequent, his grunts and groans were yelps and cries...he woke me up with this nightmare.
I rolled over and put my arm around him and patted his side...he woke up with a start, and for a second I feared he might bite me in his confusion. He jammed his nose into my hand and sniffed. Realizing where he was, he let out a deep sigh and buried his face under my chin against my chest and fell back asleep.
Safe and sound.
What a big baby...but he's our baby.

I HAVE MIXED FEELINGS ABOUT THIS

Kind of like seeing a roadkill pit bull.
This is a reality show I would have watched...rich neocon asshats living in the burbs outside Austin (most likely Round Rock or Pflugerville)* voting a variety of "different" people out of the cul de sac until they decided on a winner.
Here's the description of the contestants: they have a rainbow coalition of choices: a black family; a Hispanic family; an Asian family; two gay white men who've adopted a black boy; a couple covered in tattoos and piercings; a couple who met at the woman's initiation as a witch; and a white family where mom is a stripper.
Here's a link to the rest of this article...Welcome to the neighborhood.
And no, we were'nt the tattooed pierced couple.
This show drew so much hostilty from the various groups that protect non white, non hetero, non asshat neocons that it was shelved before it aired.
On the one hand, it would have been interesting watching a bunch of people that I revile struggle with confronting the reality of what a bunch of shallow fucksticks they are by having to pick a neighbor out of a bunch of people they moved there to avoid in the first place.
The article makes the rest of the case much better than I could.
* Turns out it's Circle C Ranch in southwest Austin, I had blotted that corner of new money shitheads out of my memory. My apologies to RR and the Pflug...Circle C has you beaten, in spades.

It was hot and I was tired
That pretty much sums up my Sunday. I'd been having trouble sleeping all week. It seems that life has decided to roll out the smorgesboard of reasons to not get a good night's sleep. From a restless husband to heartburn, night sweats to neighbors coming and going in the middle of the night, I thought by Saturday night I'd experienced everything life could throw into the mix and was looking forward to sleeping late on alarm clock free Sunday morning. Except the smoke alarm went off at 4:00 AM. It beeped just long enough to wake us up and set the dogs to barking. By the time we opened the bedroom door to see what was on fire, it had quit making it's awful noise. And nothing was on fire. No smell of smoke, no smell of gas, and there didn't appear to be a carbon monoxide cloud sweeping through the neighborhood since I went outside to make sure one of the neighbor's houses wasn't on fire and felt no ill effects. I did manage to get back to sleep eventually, but I can never seem to sleep past seven these days so I still ended up short of the eight or more hours of sleep I had hoped for. And as I head to bed now, I can't help but wonder what surprise life has in store for me tonight.

A KNOCK AT THE DOOR...PART 4

...Picking up the pieces.

I followed this kid around for weeks, looking for an opportunity to snatch him up. He was a regular at the mosque 2 days a week, but the best I could figure he was trying to mitigate the negative reaction to Islam to passersby and the small contigent of decidedly nutbag neo cons that paced zombielike in front of the mosque with these signs. Signs that said horrible things about them and Islam, I watched him dodge punches and shoves and spittle and venom from a bunch of people who were blinded by the light...the light that is the pro war / pro bush machine.
And then I followed him to the range. Once a week this kid would go to the rifle range with his friends. Two other 19 or so fucko's with semi-automatic weapons and they would blast off clip after clip on the 100 meter range. Mostly on saturdays, so one saturday I showed up with a citizen type SKS and took my place on the 100 meter line beside them. They had citizen type weapons as well...he had an AK, his friends had respectively, a .223 and an M1A1. We all shot our guns, we were all good shots, but they were pedestrian weapons...nothing special.
I needed to make an impression, so one saturday I showed up with the latest .50 caliber semi auto and blew thier doors off. This gun was a bunker buster, and to be honest, I didn't like to shoot it, it fucking hurt, but it made an impression. When they heard the thunder of this gun they paid attention, and asked questions. Rapport in more ways than one.
I invited them to shoot it, and one and all got the shoulder beating of thier lives. We went out for beers after.
We would repeat this for a month, because that's how long it took to figure out how to abduct him without his friends lighting me up.
Unlike most 19 year olds, he was painfully predictable. Six places on the skeet range, piss break in the row of porta-lets, a 1000 or so rounds on the rifle range, another piss break and then wait for his buddies who were on the pistol range. This kid was into long guns, he had a pistol or 2 but had no interest in bringing them to the range. He was all good with long distance killing as far as I could see, but the close range stuff didn't appeal to him like it did for his friends.
This was my window of opportunity, take him out while his friends were on the short range. At least a 150 yards from the parking lot and the porta-lets, by the time they realized we were gone, we were so far down the road they didn't matter.
I decided on the next saturday and sweetened the pot with the promise of a fully auto mac 10 to shoot at will, with silencer...working for "homeland security" had it's benefits.
And after I did the foundation...this gun range was in the middle of Austin and nowhere off of a major highway heading east/west, a wasteland of gated communities and highways where you could run undetected with rest stops every few miles where you could switch cars and eventually find yourself in the middle of nowhere in a non descript ride on the road to nowhere.
Nowhere being a basement in a house in a non gated Oklahoma Cul De Sac.but I'm jumping ahead again.
Like I'm prone to do, but that's something else entirely.
I had rounded this boy up in short order. Step one, really.