48% OF AMERICANS BUY INTO THIS SHIT

I saw an article the other day that said 48% of americans accept creation theory over evolution theory.Wow...I was stunned, but only for a minute.Then I realized what I was dealing with in regard to this 48%...a bunch of backward thinking idiots who probably slept through biology 101 in high school and think the fossil record is a collection of 60's one hit wonders out out by K-Tel.
So...lets set the table,48% of us believe that this dude named god not only created the universe,but humans and everything else in SIX days 10,000 years ago.(fossil record).They also believe science is so much mumbo jumbo designed to lead them off the path of god.
When I was very young I got a toy for christmas called creepy crawlers which was basically a heated mold injection thing with some molds and a heating unit and some tubes of multi colored plastic shit and with it I could create creatures of any color I wanted.It was very cool(the following christmas I got the version that allowed you to make race car bodies in a similar fashion...it was cool too).
I've gone round and round with this debate almost all my life,my father was a wanna be paleontologist/archeologist who studied the origins of man and culture. I was in the field at 7 or 8 and have seen and held the fossil recordin my very own hands as proof that nobody sitting up on a cloud had anything to do with where we are now.With the possible exception of putting it all in motion,but that's a concession and horns of a dilemma I'll ride some other time.
Lets take a look at religion first.
Nobody can agree on exactly what constitutes the baseline for creation and religiosity...there are many faiths and they all contradict each other on the finer points of what (if anything ) actually happened.
Or even better yet,let's examine the current administration led by a "born again" buffoon who says Jesus is his hero.His party plays along in lockstep. They lie,they cheat,they hurt people...in the name of god.
I don't want anything to do with that kind of god.
Faith is abstract...it's what you believe.And being abstract it's open to distortion,and it has been distorted over and over again by catholics,by Lutherans,by mormons,by jews,by islam...the list goes on,but it remains clear that creation is a fluid doctrine that attempts to explain (frequently in a malevolent manner)how we got here.
I'm for the fossil record.
"Your religion is nothing to be proud of" (Nailbomb)

JUST HAD TO SHARE

I imagine most of you have already seen this little jem,but HOO WHEE!!! it's Goll Dang funny!

IN THE BLACKEST OF ROOMS

I remember when my mom was dying,sitting in the corner of the hospital room,my copy of Jurassic park in my lap,I fell asleep to Debbie admonishing my mother to "go to the light" "Go Maureen...."! "Go to the light"! The light of what exactly?
The bright burning light of the realization that you are dead? And what's so bright about that? You are dead...you will NEVER do anything again that means a goddamned thing. Because you are DEAD,like that Monty Python parrot,you have ceased to exist.
You are an ex parrot...far removed from
the land of the living.
And that's sad...you've lost a loved one...you miss them...but remember this,a parable (probably best remembered from a TV show about gorilla heads )that defines the spirit of loss.
"For every one returned to the ground,there is one left standing" or something like that.
Annabelle still has her mom and dad,I do not.And I struggle with what hurts more...the loss,or the impending dark.

DOGGIE HEROIN

In the form of a tartan patterned dog bed for dogs up to 75 pounds for $10.00.Ann placed it between our desks primarily for Theo,but Beenz took it over right away. But the effect is both dramatic and immediate for them both.
They walk upon it and just have to lay the fuck down...nay...dig in for Beenz and stretch out for Theo.
I'm going back to score another tartan love brick for them tomorrow...so they can each tune in and drop out whenever they want to.

IT'S HERE!



I have never played a banjo in my life. The tuning is different,the neck is different,it's a whole nother animal as opposed to the geetar.I'm completely lost and loving it.
I even made a comic to commemorate the event:

TH' REV GETS A BANJO

From rejuvenation to anger
I had such a nice day yesterday that going back to work this morning was just like going back after a vacation. As a result, what usually happens to me after a vacation happened to me this morning - all the bullshit crap that I've been ignoring was suddenly sticking out like a sore thumb and really pissing me off. In fact, I was so pissed that by the time I finally got someone to cover for lunch at 2pm (I start work at 7am) I drove all the way home just to burn off some steam and get the fuck away from there. I hate driving and I especially hate driving to and from work twice in the same day, but I really didn't want to take this mood anywhere else but home. And now that I've used up the 15 minutes of my lunch hour that isn't spent driving, I should probably convince myself to go back and finish the day.

One hell of a week has a happy ending
Yes, multiple posts in one day when I usually go weeks or months with none. But it's been a different sort of day from all the days I've had lately and it comes on the tail end of a week that left me with some of the worst exhaustion I've ever felt. You see, last Sunday my dad went into the hospital for pneumonia. The prognosis was grim, but not ghastly and I went on to work on Monday to start my string of 10 to 12 hours days in the office followed by more hours at home at night in an effort to keep my job (because once again I am almost fired.) Tuesday was more of the same, but on Wednesday things started to look really bad for my dad and there was some serious doubt that he was going to pull through. I kept working since my brother was able to hang out at the hospital with my mom (and that was what my dad would have wanted me to do, Mr. Workaholic himself), but I was constantly on edge waiting for the phone to ring with some bad news. Rinse and repeat on Thursday and Friday, but lo and behold on Saturday morning things were looking up. Once again my dad had thumbed his nose at the medical community and was apparently going to pull through after all. So off to work I went (yes, that's day six in a row for those of you that are counting) and I ended up leaving the office around 8 PM. I decided to skip the hospital visit since my dad was doing better to go have dinner with Rob (who hadn't seen much of me this week.) I then went back home planning to finish up some work tasks, but my body and mind had other ideas and decided it had enough - it was either go straight to bed or collapse on the spot. Not wanting to collapse on the spot, freak Rob out and end up in the hospital myself, I did the smart thing and went to bed. And damned if I didn't have the first good night's sleep I'd had in weeks. I actually I woke up this morning refreshed and I also didn't give a shit about keeping that stupid job anymore. There was apparently some major chemical reordering done in my system over night and I'm convinced that it's far superior to anything medical science could have provided. I also got a phone call this morning that my dad would be going home today and there was no need to hang out at the hospital since I could just visit him at his house later this evening. This gave me the day free to hang out with Rob, enjoy the perfect weather, write a few blog posts and read a few of my favorite blogs. I did absolutely nothing work related and there will be hell to pay for that in the morning, but for now I'm feeling just fine. And I'd really like it to stay that way.

THE OTHER HALF OF TODAYS ADVENTURE

I lost an ear ring during the night, and being sick of losing them every few months,I decided to get something that wouldn't come out on it's own...



Take that ear ring eating couch and/or pillows!

The Ongoing Booze and Breakfast Quest
Today's attempt to find the perfect booze and breakfast spot had us stopping by Opal Divine's on 6th street. The atmosphere and service were great, but the breakfast was mediocre. Rob gave the Bloody Marys high praise, but I didn't care for the coffee much (and in my opinion, designated drivers deserve to drink excellent coffee.) Here is how Opal Divine's did on the Depthmarker scorecard:

Must have good Bloody Marys or Margaritas - check
Must have good coffee - nope
Must have breakfast food that Rob likes - nope
Must have breakfast food that Ann likes - nope
Must have good atmosphere - check
Must have good service - check
Must be in reasonable driving distance - check
Bonus score for smoking section - check

The place gets five checks out of a possible eight which is not the worse score we've seen so far, but certainly not enough to earn the title of The Perfect Booze and Breakfast spot.


We even took camera phone pictures:

Spring
I was in the mood for a new spring dress* today. And given all the Soccer Hooligan music that's been played around here since St. Patrick's Day, I decided to choose a green font and a Celtic-knot pattern for the background.

*usage stolen from Blue Witch

Lux
A while back, a Keurig coffee maker appeared at the office. I tried a few cups and decided I wanted one at home. Now $100 is a lot of money for a coffee pot and the coffee for it isn't exactly cheap either so I thought about it for several weeks while I saved pennies for such an extravagant expense. There was also the problem that the k-cups weren't recyclable and one of my pet peeves is the excess packaging that I already have to stuff in my trashcan every day. Despite all these misgivings, the coffee was so damn good that I did go ahead and buy one and I'd have to say it was one of the best purchases I have ever made. The ability to have a cup of excellent coffee first thing in the morning without any fumbling of water or grinding of coffee beans and virtually no wait for the brewing is pure luxury. The only way I could top this would be if I had hired help to grind the beans, boil the water, french press a cup and then bring it to me in bed.

FUNNY FUNNY SHIT

Kermit - Hurt

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Enjoy your Saturday!

AMAZING SONG.

I'm kinda familiar with this band,but this song is incredibly moving.It's not really much as far as music goes,but the lyrics are beautiful.And I like the video. I originally saw this at you tube (via crooks and liars late night music club) live on Conan's little variety show but liked this version better.



On a related note,my banjo shipped today and will arrive on monday. Coincidentally,this weeks chronicle cover story was called duelling banjos about the resurgence of "old time music" in Austin...hmmmm.
Maybe I'm on to something.

WELL...I DID IT...

I went and ordered myself a left handed banjo from the banjo hut in Knoxville Tennessee.

Here it is...a Johnson banjo. Purty huh?
I can't wait.

WOW...

IT FELT A LITTLE WHITE TRASHY...

I bought some nutter butter wafer cookays the other day when I had the munchies.
They are very tasty.




Turns out nutter butter is one of the official cookays of nascar!!!
Wow!
So, I got stoned and thought to myself: "Self,these cookays are awesome but they would be so much more awesome with hersheys chocolate shell poured all over them!



I was right! And they say marijuana is bad for you...pishaw!:)

PART 2 OF WHAT SHOULD ACTUALLY,FACTUALLY BE CALLED THE 47 COOLEST THINGS I'VE EVER DONE.

24.Got a girl with no front teeth kicked out of "Okey Dokey South" ( guess what kind of place that was ) for trying to pick me up and not taking no for an answer.
25.Saw the same girl at the Back Room several months later and she was several months pregnant.HA!I guess she got lucky at Okey Dokey after all and even said so.She responded with a snarl with a window in it.
26.Locked a kid out of a security room and left a chair in front of the door while he was in the bathroom.Told him he couldn't go back in until he was ready to process with his staff and return to his unit.It worked.
27.Met Dick from the subhumans.



28.Met David Yow of Scratch Acid/Jesus Lizard fame.He dove off the stage onto me and we sang a verse of Monkey trick together.



29.Interviewed Moxy (a canadian band ) for my high school newspaper and reviewed the show at The Armadillo in I believe, 1976.Here they are in 2005:



30.Carried a pregnant and in distress girl out of Black Sabbath's Never say die tour in the palmer auditorium (Van Halen BLEW them away)and managed to get back into the show after.
31.I have killed 3 pit bulls.They all deserved it.
32.Raised a child who isn't in prison and still talks to me.
33.Became a granpa...soon to be granpa squared.
34.I believe 34 was the year I crossed the "smoked a bale of weed" milestone.
35.I discovered the internet,and after years of cursing it and stamping my feet, am actually pretty comfortable with it...thanks Annabelle, for your patience.
36.Worked with Austin's homeless..."Drag Rats".I loved that part of my service to man period.
37.Got in between a transgendered homeless black kid who had stolen a drag rat's dremel tool and the gang of rat's keen on fucking him up for it. They had "smily's" (a 2 foot length of tow chain with a master lock on one end)and prevented a beatdown by telling Wayne and Harry they would have to get through me first.
38.Quit drinking beer.
39.Discovered vodka.
40.Quit smoking weed.
41.Started again.
42.Quit doing speed 20 years ago...just like that.
43.Never went back to it.
44.Became an electrician.
45.Had a pair of prehensile tail skinks that ruled.



46.Joined Wolves@th'Door.
47.Married Annabelle.
So...what cool shit have you done?

What goes down must come up
I made the mistake of reading my work email this morning before I went to work. I usually do this over coffee without too much ill effect, but there were a couple of emails in my box from the top dog at the company that were addressed only to me. This put me in a very foul mood because it reminded me how much under the microscope I've been for the last several months and it's becoming more than just a thorn in my side. That thorn is now firmly embedded under the skin and starting to generate pus. This does not bode well. Emails that I would not have batted an eyelash at a few months ago managed to generate a mood that was likely to endanger any unsuspecting idiot driver on my way to work. But after few deep breaths and a fair amount of cussing, I was able to make the drive without actually running anyone off the road. I admit though, it was extremely hard to resist the urge to ram the idiot that was only half-way pulled into the Starbucks parking lot and blocking my lane for no apparent reason (logic prevailed when I remembered my Tempo was no match for her gigantic SUV.) And despite the bad start to the day, the fact that my Monday floor managing shift always sucks, the news that my dad (currently in the hospital for pneumonia) was having a rough day, the reality of a 12 hour day in the office and three more hours of work at home when I finally got there... despite all these things, I end the day in a pretty good mood. Now maybe I'm crazy or maybe it's because one of the advantages of age is that you learn that all of these things are just minor annoyances when it comes to the big picture and five years from now (or even two months from now,) none of it is going to matter.

I STOLE THIS FROM IDEA FROM SOMETHING AWFUL

Evan "pantsfish" Wade turned 24 and listed the 24 greatest things he's ever done. I will now list the 47 greatest things I have ever done ( and my things are greater because there are 47 of them).Also in no particular order...
1.Pissed on the bumper of a jaguar in the randalls parking lot in westlake hills.
2.Took a photogragh of my friend Dirk, passed out on the toilet. I carried this around with me and showed it to everyone I knew because there was no internet back then.
3.Poured a chocolate shake on Mark Sheehan's head in high school cause we were high and I thought it would be funny.I thought it was funny,he didn't.
4.Smashed a bunch of mailboxes with a sledge hammer and convinced a travis county sheriff who had a clear description of the truck I was in it wasn't us.
5.Chased a runaway kid across a busy street during rush hour and didn't get killed by a car.
6.Took on a .25 semi auto pistol with my belt in the armadillo parking lot and won.
7.Threw up about a pound of tequila marinated green olives (with pimento) while my buddy Doc was kicking the fence I was leaning against and managed to not puke in my luxuriously long hair.
8.Walked through the glass door of a stereo cabinet after a clutch show ( read very drunk ) and didn't cut myself.
9.Rescued and re-homed and/or released 100's of turtles.
10.Had an opportunity to have have sex with a hot black chick when I was living in Colorado and totally blew it.The next morning she got me in a lip lock and my resulting hard on kept me hiding in the back for 15 minutes. I was 20, what can I say?
11.Took the stage at Boomers with double vision and still pulled it off.
12.I have not, to this day killed Andy Hines and burned down his house with everyone in it. Someone else will do that for me, I keep telling myself.
13.Spent 20 years in the service of others at a horrible cost to myself.
14.Survived a horrible car wreck at 18.
15.Took care of my parents at the end of their lives like a good son does.Builds character...right, more like heartache.
16.Shoved a bag of weed down my girlfriends pants when a cop was pulling us over after a crazy night at aquafest in front of the auditorium to avoid getting busted...it worked.
17.Survived a multi year speed binge without losing any teeth or staph sores.
18.Maintained a sense of humor in spite of harrowing odds, with what I brought upon myself and the things that were/are out of my control.
19.Got lots and lots and LOTS of action, before it could kill you.
20.Only got the clap once ( see # 19 ).
21.Somehow avoided any serious jail time.
22.Only involved in the killing of one person.
23.Managed to avoid being killed.
23 1/2 : Had some really awesome dogs.
See here tomorrow for the other half.

BLACK EYE

There's this Uncle tupelo song that speaks to the decline of character called black eye. It's a wonderful song and while I've always loved it,I've never felt a personal connection to it...until tonight.
I discovered my last eastern box turtle,Flower,dead.Those of you that have known me or read this blog for any period of time will be familiar with my activities re turtle conservation.But I have been slowly drifting away from it...
I have been neglecting my charges for a while now,and had I been more attentive I might have been able to bring flower back...again.
There was the initial rescue,then the oh my god it's 107 in the shade turtle bake that took several of my babies and forever cooked Flower's brain. She was never the same after that.
At the peak of my involvement in turtle rescue I had upwards to 100 turtles rehabbing at my house...fucking turtles everywhere.And each and everyone had a name and a history that I knew...I was dedicated...but not so much anymore.
So off to wildlife rescue they go tomorrow...except for Carmen,the black river turtle from Cuba...and the pair of ornate wood turtles...and Club and Nubs and Fluffy...
connections are funny.Maybe I need to think about this some more.
Nah...They gotta go,except maybe Club and....
I'll keep you posted.Attachment is a complicated thing...

Not nude yet
It was hot today, though balmy by summer standards in Austin (but it's not summer yet!) Warm enough still, that I felt really hot on the way home from work. The temperature is always cold where I work (helps out the computers) and I get adjusted to that only to get in my car afterwards where I have no working A/C and a driver's side window that no longer rolls down due to my own convoluted thinking - too busy/lazy to fix it myself, yet refuse to spend the money to take something to the shop that I can fix myself. Anyway, I was feeling pretty toasty by the time I got home and peeled off my clothes and looked around for the coolest thing possible to wear. Seems silly, but I still haven't become used to wandering around in the nude even though I tried it when it was the hottest of the hot part of the summer and we were not running the A/C to save money. Rob seems to think nothing of wandering around nekked at times (and I confess that I rather enjoy that trait of his.) I haven't quite achieved that freedom of mind, but I was in luck, having lost enough weight to fit into some inexpensive, on-sale thingies of the XXL variety - I'm not sure what you call these - sleepware, camisoles, babydolls... something like that, but they cover enough to make me feel comfortable (though I certainly wouldn't wander out of the house wearing them.) I have a hard time finding clothes that fit, even sleepware. I'm a big gal and even at a rib-showing, protruding hipbones weight of 150 pounds I can barely squeeze into a size 12. Add to that a very long waist coupled with relatively short legs for someone who is 5'9" and you have a clothes shopping nightmare. Throw on an extra 65 pounds gained while sitting at desk jobs for 15 hours a day for the last 20 years and it becomes a shopping horror movie. The people that design plus size clothing for the less affluent need to be shot. That stuff is just down right awful. And even if I do manage to lose more weight, what's available in a healthy for me size of 16 or 18 is just as bad if I want to find things that are affordable. So who knows, maybe the best solution is to just get more comfortable being nude and join a nudist colony. That would certainly put my clothes shopping woes to rest. ;)

IT'S GOOD TO HELP YOUR FRIENDS

Unless it involves electrical work in an old house. I have been helping this friend of mine with her kitchen...some track lighting over the sink and installing a range hood. She would like it done by her birthday party, which is sunday.
I have the holes in the ceiling to mount the track and the hole cut in the wall for the dimmer switch,but there's a problem. There are two vertical studs back to back between the hole for the switch and the hole for the track.I spent 2 hours yesterday and 3 hours today trying to get through said studs. I bought a flexible drill bit(a really cool gadget that allows you to bend the bit to a 90 degree angle to get into tight spots ) I was successful!
All I had to do was push the fish tape through, pull in the wire then easy street.
Wrong.
The fish tape wouldn't push through...nor would the jack chain.
Because there are horizontal studs between the window casing and my original stud obstacle.
EEEEYAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGHHHHHHUH!!!
The only way to install this track lighting is to remove an entire section of her sheetrock so I can see what I'm fucking dealing with stud wise.
I just spoke with her and she's all about it...even has the drywall, mud and pieces and parts to do it. So...
Onward! Into the abyss of old house interior walls!

DUDE...YOU SMELL LIKE P.O...


I started wearing patchouli oil when I was in high school...it went like this: Teacher/administrator:Rev...you smell like marijuana...are you hopped up on pot? Me: Nah man.....(long pause)......I'm wearin' patchouli oil man...
T/A: Oh...OK...Sorry...go on to class (complete with that "God damn itI KNOW that filthy hippy freak is stoned out of his mind but he got me on the "patchouli offense"...little bastard.
Then,for a long time I didn't smoke weed,but I still wore the old P oil cause I liked the smell.
Then one day in supervision when I was on the crisis intervention team at the oaks my boss asked me if I was smoking weed and I said nah man I wear patchouli (only this time it was true and not a lie to hide my wanton ways)and my boss explained that a therapist working at the facility had approached him with concerns that I "smelled like pot". My boss was very cryptic, he would show us samurai films for training..he was awesome. He made some references to the therapist as a "tempest in a teapot"(Whatever that means,I never figured it out but I think it has something to do with calling a kettle black) but advised me to not wear the offending oil at work anymore.
So I put the patchouli down.A clear indication of my dedication to my team,the craft and the facility.Sure...I've had relapses...I have worn(or is it "abused")? the old PO a few times in the last 15 years.
Sue me.It beats the hell out of old spice or Lilac Vegital.
Really.

I GUESS YOU COULD CALL IT A CULTURAL EXCHANGE

Way back when we were first doing the Cissi's market job the sheet rock crew ( read "guest workers" ) annoyed us to no end with the radio tuned to a tejano station. Well,as I've learned over the past months,crews tend to end up on the same jobs over and over again.
As is the case with our new project.Only this time,we got there first.
I brought in my jam box and put in flogging molly, followed by dropkick murphys.At one point Steve and I were up in the ceiling and I started chuckling...he asked what I was laughing at and I said " they have inflicted so much of their culture on us on other jobs,it's nice to share some of our culture with them".He gave me the flaming bag o' dog poop on the stoop grin and we moved on.
Tomorrow it's nailbomb....bwahahahahahahahahhahahahahahaa!

THE RARE OULD TIMES

Pisser wondered where Flogging Molly was in the mix of my st. paddys adventure. I had heard of them but never heard them. I was partial to the Pogues. So I checked them out and bought Drunken Lullabies tonight. It rules.
If I had to pick a genre of music that can always make me smile, it's the melding of styles that define these bands...barely sustained craziness with banjo,fiddle,tin whistle,accordian and punk rock that does it for me.And the timeless energy of traditional folk.
Add another one to the list...thanks...ur,um,Pisser.
KAPOW! Indeed :)

ST. PADDY'S RECAP

OK...so I got up Saturday feeling middlin', but started drinking at around 11. Got on youtube and watched the Pogues, Van Morrison and Dropkick Murphys, got inspired and went and bought a Dropkick Murphys CD...Came home and commenced to abuse the stereo with more Pogues,Van and my new CD and Thin Lizzy and drank some more.For some reason, I kept getting the urge to pick a fight with some random person...not in a angry way oddly, but in a that's what drunk irishmen do on st. paddys day dammit!!!
Ended up at my buddy Jon's, drank some more and came home, got some guitars and an amp and went back to Jon's. Jammed out for a while and burned one and...SCREEEEEEEEEEEEE!
I know this is a bad idea, one or the other, but never in combination. Smokin' an' drinkin' is a bad idea. Smokin' + drinkin' = Retard.
So, the retard makes it home and blasts the stereo again. Ann comes home from errands and asks me to turn it down and I attempt to turn the STEREO down with the volume control on my COMPUTER...like I said, retarded.
Went to bed shortly after that and woke up Sunday around 4:30am starving,hungover and sick again.Stayed in the bed all day.Didn't get up till 7pm. AMC had westerns on all day...I have decided that Open Range is a good movie after all.And Deep Impact is not (another channel,before AMC's cowboy fest).
Ate some very marginal spaghetti with meatballs (the kind Ray Liotta complains about at the end of goodfellas) and went back to bed.

I CAN DO IRISH...MUSIC THAT IS

Here goes...

Let me tell ya bout a tough one...a dog named Sullivan
Big and black and proud
When I first spied him he was a wee lad in a cage
At me vet he survived the plague but his owner wouldn't pay
So, bein' a black dog, he came home with me

He blended right in, became part of the family
A barky talkin' black dog
Smart as a whip and not shy about it
95 pounds of Sullivan
But not beyond a hug for me an you

White spot on his chest...
Toenails on the back feet white
The kind of dog you want in a fight
He could take a punch, had the scars to prove it
Sullivan
And he could dish it out
Sullivan

Remember him on saint patty's
Hold his name up to the light
I miss my Sully
Black irish lost to the night.

ALWAYS AFTER ME LUCKY CHARMS...

I know...I'll call in an air strike and decimate the ville!



Happy Saint Patrick's day! I wish I felt better.Although I am much improved from yesterday, lets say I'm feeling craptacular.
But that won't prevent me from celebrating no siree bob.
As pisser pointed out in the comments,it's SXSW this week. Wrist bands started out at $130.00 and went up from there.
There's lots of people from all over crowding the city all over as the festival takes over more and more of the city every year. New acts a plenty playing everywhere.
Have you heard of that singer songwriter Pete Townshend from England?He's here and from what I understand is quite good (heavy sarcasm).
I remember when SXSW was local and new bands...that's how I prefer to remember it.
We need those mayan indians to come and purify the city on monday after the music whore fest is gone.

LOOKIT TH' PURTY FLURS

Last fall a mystery old lady left some bulbs on our front porch,we planted them and this is the result. Tall bearded Iris...nice.

A WORK OF FICTION...AHEM

I woke up this morning and i couldn't breathe. My head was full of paste. I got up and made a cuppacoffee thinking it would help,it didn't. I hit the store on the way to work and got a coke,thinking it would help,it didn't.When I arrived 5 minutes late, my boss wasn't there. I went to the alley to smoke,gagged and heaved and threw up.
Then my head started pounding and my stomach was killing me. Then I heard a honking horn in the parking garage on the other side of the alley. It was the other helper and another helper from somewhere else. It was 7:30 in the morning and these asshats were drinking beer...shitty beer.
In the next 15 minutes I was regaled with tales of drunken infidelity with the neighbor chick and shown a gun with the serial# filed off that's for sale.
Sign me up for that!
Bossman arrives and sees the "what the fuck?" look in my eyes. I tell him I'm sick as dogshit and these motherfuckers are tweaked and drinking beer.
He rolls his eyes with the resignation of someone whose sick of that then sends me home.
I've been on soup and sleep rotation since...finally saw John Wayne in the green berets from start to finish...what blatant propaganda,
Hopefully I'll feel better tomorrow.

I JUST HAD A HORRIBLE THOUGHT THAT I PUSHED OUT OF MY BRAIN AS FAST AS I COULD

I'm sittin' here surfing around and Beenz is standing with her front feet on my thigh gettin' a chest rub and I'm noticing how gray she is around the tooth and eyes and I get this image of another grave in the back yard...Ewwwww. And it had been such a good day. It was a morbid thought.
Back in the day I never had morbid thoughts, Don't get me wrong,I wasn't an optimist, I was a realist with substance abuse issues.Just this side of out of control.
But now I see things more clearly, and on many levels I wish I still had the black and red split lens vision hatred that dominated my youth.
The impact of events on your soul and the realization that those impacts are real and form you...I mean I knew this already, but time adds a gravity to it.
And I'm gonna love my Beenz to the very end.
Not gonna miss a minute.

HEY YA REDUX



I posted this some months back. It's still a favorite.But in my surfing around YouTube, I found this version:



Where it is revealed that Hey Ya is actually an angst ridden tome to alienation and dysfunctional relationships...who knew?

And then I found this tonight:



A cover of a cover! Wow...with a Neil Young/bluesy inflection.
Well done.
We should do a punk rock version...

SINGIN' SEEMS TO HELP A TROUBLED SOUL

When we first started as a band in '94 it was exciting. We all had some experience with music and a desire to play and finally the resources to reinforce our sound to make it worthwhile.We went at it hard for a long time. We we're tight...three sets. 21 songs. All but 2 original ( Gypsies Tramps and Thieves and Delta dawn ) it was fun.
Then somewhere along the line it wasn't fun anymore...flash forward a couple of years that's right, we procrastinated for 2 years! A fingerful of gigs on birthdays and other...no just birthdays, uh...I mean birthday...Bill's to be specific.
But we all got the itch it turns out. And my son just sent me a song to see if we can collaborate on it and maybe more after that.
Coincidence?
A happy one fer sure.

RETURNING TO THE SCENE OF THE CRIME

I got sent back to a job I was on several months ago to complete the punch list...I had posted pictures of it back then and will post some new ones tomorrow. The logic being that I am one of the only IJ's left who was on the job and I would have some sort of insight on completing the punch list ( a list of usually minor tasks to be done at the end of a project )...yeah, ok. I haven't been on this job since before thanksgiving. The walls are all closed up, but surprisingly, it came back to me.
Have I ever mentioned that I hate yuppy posers? You know the type, and if you don't it will become self evident with the pictures of this place tomorrow.
This place screams BMW and over extended visa cards. Yuck.
On a lighter note, most of the other trades there then are still there and I saw this carpenter named Mace, who is really cool, he reminds me of an old high school buddy named Chase. He calls me Sparky...what ya think? should I change my sig?

300

I went to the movies today...the last time I did that was for that Micheal Moore movie about 9-11 and before that it was that turd of a Kevin Costner movie Waterworld.(Don't ask)
I saw 300. Highly stylized it was. It had some memorable moments, but was not what they cracked it up to be.
Not enough giant deformed persian guy if you ask me.
Watched Borat at home last night....good times!
And how was your weekend?

PUSSY

CLUTCH is playing here in town tomorrow night, and my son thinks me and Ann are gonna be there. CLUTCH shows were one of the defining moments of our families bonding. We have seen these guys as a family at least 3 times, but I'm thinking 4.
They rule. but we're old. Not so much of the mosh pit anymore...besides, I have a fractured rib. Not able to kick ass. Short answer...well, not...
Dear Kyle,
As much as we'd love to be there tomorrow for our continued obsession with Neil and company, we're gonna leave it to you to go and have an awesome time and then rip on us about what a great show it is undoubtedly going to be.
Son...we still got the heart,but we ain't got the legs...sorry.
I know I'm a pussy. :(

BUSH TAKES X...IN AN ATTEMPT TO CAPTURE THE RAVER FACTION!



So...the giggling murder monkey is touring Latin America much to the disdain of the people of Latin America. They hate him just like we do, but being "hot blooded latinos" they aren't afraid to say it. And say it they do,especially in Brazil. You go Latinos! Thank you for saying what we are apparently not allowed to...can't disrespect the king you know.
Jeez...I'm embarrassed by this asshat again. Maybe I should leave it alone,but there's just so much crazy there for the picking over.
And the insurgents missed Cheney,maybe it's that last throes thing.

MILESTONES...

Ever since Annabelle and I have been together there have been fights...no,let's call them disagreements that number less than the nigh on 14 years (or is it it 13? All this marital bliss has clouded my memory)that we have been a couple. Seriously, we just don't fight. It's as simple as that. Try as we might, we just can't piss each other off to the point of yelling and name calling that I hear so much about from my married friends.
Until tonight.
I left work and went and did a side job...uh,I mean helped out a friend. And after she and her room mate and me and Mike went for margs. Then, me and mike went to another new mexican place and had more margs.
I dropped Mike off at his house and went home. It was 6:30pm.
The lights were not on. I thought, "hmmm...must be a power outage" until I tried to rinse a glass in the sink and the water flowed for about a nanosecond,then I knew I had a problem.
Our power and water had been cut off for non payment...again...it's not an issue of money,we have the money. It's an issue of the person in charge of the utility bills being a flake. Is that person me? NO. Am I the person who has to deal with the problem? YES. Is it unbelievably annoying? YES. How so? you ask. Let me explain...
Come home to a dark house with no water, try Ann's cell to ask about the utility bill status...no answer ( why she even owns a cell is beyond me...she NEVER answers that motherfucker) Same deal with the work phone...never at her desk.
At this point I'm fairly agitated and decide to deal with it myself...again.That amounts to a lot of being on hold
and pushing buttons into my phone, this time with a headlamp to illuminate the terrain I'm currently deployed on. I fucking hate having to wait for service beyond a reasonable time (I'm convinced the city leaves you on hold for extended periods no matter how busy they are to punish you for being tardy)and I hate phone prompts that require you to punch in numbers and pound signs and especially "press one for english"...I shouldn't have to do that in england...I mean america,where english is the official language,unless you happen to be a "guest worker" (press two for en espaniol) god that pisses me off, but I digress.
So, after an hour or more on the phone on the back deck in the dark with a flashlight on my head to illuminate the small numbers on my bank card and my utility bill, I deal with it...again.
Annabelle calls in the middle of this mess and gets a piece of my mind. I'm yelling and cursing and admonishing and bitching, I say fuck a lot in all of it's permutations but stay on task...focused on what I'm mad about.
Annabelle gets home and in the light of my headlamp there's some more bitching on my part.
Then:
Me: The god damn motherfucking power won't be on for an hour and a half...so I'm fucking leaving and shopping. I'll be back later....uhhh...what are you doing about dinner?
Annabelle: I haven't eaten all day...I'm really hungry.
Me: Do you wanna go eat somewhere?
Annabelle: Yes...I would if you can bear to dine with someone who has so deeply disappointed you by not paying the utility bill for the umpteenth time resulting in the city cutting us off again , then yes,I am hungry.
(actually, all she said was " I haven't eaten all day, yes I would like to go eat somewhere )
So I said...Fine...we're going somewhere new, let's go...And we went to Sazon.
We ate,we drank...we shared events of the day and in the end, the lights were on when we got home, and that's all that really matters.
Right?
Well...it works for us, and as for the rest of you that squab about insignificant shit...get the fuck over it, OK?

PELICAN BAY...IN THE SHOE...BITCH.

We got a new helper yesterday, and all I have to say is...HOO-WHEE! This guy is a fucking peach. Today, we were going to the shop to get some equipment and he asks "So...what prison were you in"?
Wha-wa-wa-wa-WHAT Bitch?
So I reply without missing a breath...I've never been in prison, I paid good money for these (tats...his assumption of my doing time), the longest I've been locked up was 11 hours in city jail 26 years ago. End of discussion.
He just finished a 15 month stretch,which may have contributed to his confusion. But I think in the end it will play out that he is just another jailbird dumbass (albiet well meaning) punk.
Now,if you'll excuse me I have to go sharpen my shiv and check on my new batch of pruno that I enhanced with rice crispies...

WHAT DOES THAT IMAGE SAY TO YOU?

A.Don't walk.
B.Walk.
C.Walk out in front of me.
D.Walk out in front of me,looking at me with contempt and entitlement.Like,after you kick my cars ass,you're gonna kick mine.

Here in Austin, the correct answer is B,C,and D.
I've only been to Mexico a few times,so I don't remember what Mexican walk/don't walk signs look like, or if they even have them. And I'm not implying that our "guest workers" are the only ones doing this. I have witnessed the following blatently ignoring the red hand...
Punk ass high schoolers...drunk ass homeless people...crazy homeless people (they even yell at your car...an added bonus)...That homeless guy that wears 18 layers of clothing year round and carries his estate around in three overflowing grocery carts covered with those blue tarps and rope. That guy with no legs in the moto-wheelchair that has a lift built in. I saw him at HEB one time when I was stoned, one minute he was at wheelchair elevation,I turned away and when I turned back, he was 9 fucking feet tall! I call him Voltron now. But I digress. And deaf homeless people with tablets that tell the life story, and beg for money.And when you try to gently shine them on they go ballistic, exploding in a cacophony of vaguely simian grunts and groans and gesturing you with ugly hand signals and grotesque body movements.But mostly, it's "guest workers",so I'm guessing it's a cultural thing,and the rest of these asshats are just fucking with me...because they can .

THIS MADE MY MORNING

I was drinking coffay and lookin' at the local news site this morning and saw this:
Pussies!!!!!

Wow...I worked at this place for 14 years and saw the regular cops a handful of times...but SWAT? Come on. Back in the day, the team I was on was in house fucking SWAT. The kids didn't show their asses like this cause they knew we were just around the corner. No staff member ever had to barricade themselves in an office to be safe, they just had to call us, end of problem.
SWAT??? Wow.
We've come so far...ha!

WE'VE BEEN ILL

Ann picked up a bug at work and brought it home. it's an interesting bug...you feel like someone has beaten you with a post, and for me, my stomach made noises I had never heard it make before in 47 years...a gastric gang of four thing. Unpleasant and unwelcome. But as a result of my viral misfortune, I got lot's of sleep and got to see that Hillary Swank/Clint Eastwood movie "Million Dollar baby"...Wow...just wow. Even though I knew what happened at the end,it was still worth going there. A very good film.
Which reminds me about a Blue witch post I read about her forced exposure to the Helen Mirren oscar award winning film "The Queen" on that plane back (or was it to...?) from gookville .
BW queried about movies...I love movies, and for me, it is an escape...to someone else's life...but oddly, my own. I get to counter their decisions...what would happen if I did it my way? It's sometimes like 2 movies in one.
I do agree that fictional characters are better. Once real life happens, it's done.Right? You can't change the reality once it's played out.

SHIT LOAD OF CRAZY

I posted about Rebecca Riley's death the other day...if you thought that was bad, check this out: Bad craziness
I knew there was more to this story...and boy! Was I right.
And how about those mugshots? Wow.
As you know, I'm prone to understatement, but this guy needs to be given an overdose of clonodine, tied to a chair and beaten to death by 4 year old girls wielding ball peen hammers. She needs to be sterilized with a cattle prod and then thrown into a cell for the rest of her life. As far as the other "adults" in the house, there's this "chamber" at the "humane society" that,if folded just right, they could fit in.
As far as the "professionals" involved in the case,revoke,disbar,terminate,prosecute.
Who in their right mind would diagnose a 28 month old child with Bipolar disorder? Not to mention ADHD. Come on...and this from Tufts...renowned for their good works?
And the social service agencies that let them walk away from intervention? I understand caseloads and the cracks that people fall through, but...he was charged with sex crimes, against a minor member of his family.
I'd like to think a "child protective" agency would pay attention to a history like that.Not to mention the rage/violence stuff. She got a restraining order for a reason, but it's lapse was not responded to? That's some shitty service any way you dice it up.
I can tell those two are not right just by looking at those pictures. That's not stress and grief in those affects, that's just plain nuts. That the "professionals" involved missed such an obvious visual cue is, well, just plain nuts as well.
This scenario has played itself out across the country for years, but this case is a perfect example of everyone dropping the ball.
And that ball was Rebecca...

FRACTURE

I talked to my doctors office this morning,and it turns out I did fracture a rib after all. It's much improved, but still bothers me at night. I guess I'm gonna suck it up and fill that script for vicodin tomorrow. I forget my age sometimes...I just don't bounce back like I used to, instead of one bounce,it takes 3 or 4. Or 21.
We finished the smaller sconce lights before lunch today, 10 in half the time it took us to do 14 yesterday. Repetition has it's merits I guess. Spent the afternoon wiring the pole lights in the back lot. Steve had to go to a meeting about another job, so I was on my own for an hour or so, making joints. These are 480 volt lights, which, if you get hit by it will turn you into burnt weenie sandwich. I knew the home run wasn't tied in yet, and verified (twice) that the breakers were off. But still, every time I applied my strippers to the conducting wires, I hesitated and gazed off in the distance at the panel and wondered " has some jackass turned those breakers back on and I didn't see them do it "? Electrocution tends to stick with you for a while,plus there were other service personnel working in proximity of the panel after all. Ahh, I legitimize my paranoia!
Anyhoo, Steve made up the joints to the home run when he got back and we tested the lights and they all worked just fine. You couldn't even smell any electricity :).
And that's another cool thing about my job, I made those lights work, and as a result of my efforts folks can walk to their cars at night in a well illuminated lot. I guess all that really means is they will see their assailant coming.
Happy to oblige, oh yes I am.
On a musical note,today we got "The ultimate Yes" 3 cd compilation. It commemorates the bands 35th anniversary (in 2004) 31 slices of prog rock at it's finest.

SONGS THAT MAKE YOU CRY

Yesterday I alluded to songs that make your tear ducts lose control. Perhaps I wasn't direct enough...I really want to know. What songs cause you to weep? Unlike most humans with a penis, I'm not shy about crying (thanks Dad for that) when the time is right...I mean I don't cry when I hurt myself. That would be unmanly. I didn't cry when I got electrocuted, and that shit hurt. I cried later in private after that experience, realizing that I could have died. But I got over it quick and sucked it up, like a man should.
Ann has been driving me mostly crazy since we got home searching for songs on the interweb and playing them. She has a penchant for western swing, which, for me amounts to an icepick and my eardrums and repeated in out, in out...until I'm deaf, or dead...or both, preferably. There I am, laying dead with an HEB $2.99 wooden handled ice pick sticking out of my left ear. And on the handle is carved " western swing did this man...HARD" Seriously...I hate that shit.
But, as far as cry music goes I like:

Fire and Rain (Taylor)

And you and I (Yes)

Spanish Boots (Dylan)

Sweet Baby James (Taylor)

And the list goes on and on...
What about you? Huh???

SCONCE LIGHTS...NOT MY FAVORITE

And we installed 14 of them today on the outside of a retail establishment. We have 10 more to install tomorrow, then 8 larger ones for the business next door. We could have used a ground man,but we managed just fine.
It was a beautiful day to be working outside.
After work I went to the hall and got my vacation fund check, shortly after I got home, Ann arrived...before dark no less! After discussing what to do about dinner we went to The Shoal Creek Saloon. All manner of fried stuff and cajun food. It was awesome. The food was hot and fresh, the service was good and you can smoke on the patio. Ann had catfish, I had the catfish/crawfish combo...we split an order of fries.
We'll be going back.

THERE'S SEVEN PEOPLE DEAD ON A SOUTH DAKOTA FARM...

Somewhere in the distance, there are seven more people born.

Let's think about that for a minute...

I've been playing make you cry CD's...What's yer favorite tunes to shed tears by?
I gotta shitload.
You know, loss is an interesting thing. We all lose things in life. Things, you know, teeth, hair, body mass, people, parents. Everyone of us loses.
But the loss that effects me most is the loss of a pet, to be specific, the loss of a dog.
Sullivan recently passed and it hit me hard. With his passing, I relived the passing of those that came before him...Murphy, Buddy, Diamond, Cypress.
Dogs...we still have two. Our babies, our sweet things. They won't be here forever, but I burn them into my memory.
Good doggies, keep sucking me in.

Desk...

two black dogs...:(/:)

nice...

ON WITH THE RIBS STORY

So...I go see Rasor, he's glad to see me, it's been awhile. He's been my doc for about 15 years, but it's been about a year since I've seen him. He gives me the once over and checks my blood pressure. It's high ( what a surprise, I haven't been on my meds for a year) and we discuss options. I don't like to take pills, so we agree on a two pill once a day regimen. he gives me a months worth of samples and a script for lodine and vicodin for the ribs and sends me to an xray office, where a kind of strange girl takes many pictures of my ribs. No cracks or breaks, just a giant hematoma. A painful, giant hematoma.
While I was waiting at the house for my appointment, I knocked my bong over and gave my laptop a fatal load of bongwater to the on/off button, effectively killing it.
It was a freebie laptop from our guitar player LT and on it's last legs, but still...no computer!
So...I bought a new one.
Now, you think this would be a simple matter...NO. My laptop was set up on our dining room table, and wanting it back as a dining table ended up in a complete redesign of our dining, living and computer area. I spent my entire saturday cleaning and rearranging and today I got my desk out of Sullivans room. ( even after time has past it was hard to go in there...it made me sad.)
So here I sit at my newly resurrected desk, typing out bullshit on my new computer.
And watching my satan bobblehead bobble with each keystroke and thinking about Sully.
Bittersweet.

WOW...WHAT A WEEK.

The week started out with me going to the doctor for my ribs. I called in sick and went to Pro-Med. They don't accept my insurance. I can pay 85 to see the doc and 75 for x-rays. Fuck that...I'm all about my doc...Doc Razor, details to follow tomorrow.

THE INTERNET IS A GOLDMINE OF CRAZY TONIGHT

"CHRISTIAN WINGNUT DOCTOR"

When this guy farts, only dogs can hear it.

THIS IS NOT NEWS, BUT IT'S STILL APPALLING.



(from left to right...Accusing prosecutors finger, a Stephen King impersonator and a chick goofed on qualuudes. )





Early on the morning of Dec. 13, police officers responding to a 911 call
arrived at a house in Hull, Mass., a seaside town near Boston, and
found a 4-year-old girl on the floor of her parents’ bedroom, dead.

She was lying on her side, in a pink diaper, the police said, sprawled across some discarded magazines and a stuffed brown bear.

Last week, prosecutors in Plymouth County charged the parents, Michael and
Carolyn Riley, with deliberately poisoning their daughterRebecca by giving her overdoses of prescription drugs to sedate her.

The police said the girl had been taking a potent cocktail of psychiatric
drugs since age 2, when she was given a diagnosis of attention deficit
disorder and bipolar disorder, which is characterized by mood
swings.

(Diagnosed with bipolar disorder at 2??? TWO??? Un-FUCKING-believable.)

The parents have pleaded not guilty, with their lawyers questioning whether
the child should have been prescribed such powerful drugs.
( Now there's a suprise. )


The case has shaken a region known for the excellence of its social and
medical services. The director of the state’s Department of Social
Services has had to defend his agency, which had been investigating the
case before the girl’s death.

The girl’s treating psychiatrist has taken a voluntary, paid leave until the case is resolved. And New Englanders
are raising questions that are now hotly debated within psychiatry, and
which have broad implications for how young children likeRebecca Riley are cared for.

Tufts-New England Medical Center, where the child was treated, released a
statement supporting its doctor and calling the care “appropriate and
within responsible professional standards.”

( Sure it was, you fucking whores to the pharmaceutical companies. )

Indeed, the practice of aggressive drug treatment for young children labeled
bipolar has become common across the country. In just the last decade, the rate of bipolar diagnosis in children under 13 has increased almost sevenfold, according
to a study based on hospital discharge records. And a typical treatment
includes multiple medications.

( I remember "Conduct Disorder", and
"Borderline Personality Disorder", and "Multiple Personality Disorder"
diagnosis' rolling in on the waves of new drugs that were flooding the
market...here we go again. )

Rebecca was taking Seroquel, an antipsychotic drug; Depakote, an equally powerful mood medication; and Clonidine, a blood pressure drug often prescribed to calm children.

( Can you believe a 2 year old was taking
this shit?...The rest of the article continues below and when I calm
down enough to think it through I'll post a commentary. )

The rising rates of diagnosis and medication use strike some doctors and
advocates for patients as a dangerous fad that exposes ever-younger
children to powerful drugs.Antipsychotics like Seroquel or Risperdal ,
which are commonly prescribed for bipolar disorder, can cause weight
gain and changes in blood sugar — risk factors for diabetes.

Some child psychiatrists say bipolar disorder has become an all-purpose label for aggression.

“Bipolar is absolutely being overdiagnosed
in children, and the major downside is that people then think they have
a solution and are not amenable to listening to alternatives,” which
may not include drugs, said Dr. Gabrielle Carlson, a professor of
psychiatry and pediatrics at Stony Brook University School of Medicine
on Long Island.

Paraphrasing H. L. Mencken, Dr. Carlson added, “Every serious problem has an easy solution that is usually wrong.”

Others disagree, insisting that increased awareness of bipolar disorder and use of some medications has benefited many children.

“The first thing to say is that the world does not see the kids we see; these are very difficult patients,” said Dr. John T. Walkup, a child and adolescent psychiatrist at the Johns Hopkins University School of Medicine.

Dr. Walkup said that when drug treatment was done right, it could turn around the life of a child with a diagnosis of bipolar disorder.

Dr. Jean Frazier, director of child psychopharmacology
at Cambridge Health Alliance and an associate professor at Harvard,
said that up to three-quarters of children who exhibit bipolar symptoms
become suicidal, and that it is important to treat the problem as early
as possible.

“We’re talking about a serious illness with high
morbidity, and mortality,” Dr. Frazier said, “and for some of these
children the medications can be life-giving.”

Still, most child
psychiatrists agree that there are still questions about applying the
diagnosis to very young children. Recent research has found that most
children who receive the diagnosis are emotionally explosive but do not
go on to develop the classic features of the disorder, like euphoria.
They are far more likely to become depressed.

And many
therapists have found that some patients referred to them for bipolar
disorder are actually suffering from something else.

“Most of the patients I see who have been misdiagnosed have been told they have bipolar disorder,” said Dr. Bessel van der Kolk, a professor of psychiatry at Boston University who runs a trauma clinic.

“The diagnosis is made with no understanding of the context of their life,” Dr. van der Kolk said. “Then they’re put on these devastating medications and condemned to a life as a psychiatry patient.”

Details about what happened to Rebecca are still emerging. A relative of her mother, Carolyn Riley, 32, told the police that Rebecca seemed “sleepy and drugged” most days, according to the charging documents.

One preschool teacher said that at about 2 p.m. every day the girl came to life, “as if the medication Rebecca was on was wearing off,” according to the documents.

Defense
lawyers are also focusing on the question of medication. “What I want
to know,” said John Darrell, a lawyer for Mr. Riley, “is how in the
world you diagnose a 2-year-old and give her these strong medicines
that are not approved for children.”

A lawyer for Rebecca’s psychiatrist, Dr. Kayoko Kifuji of Tufts-New England Medical Center, did not return calls seeking comment.

Some experts say the temptation to medicate can be powerful.

“Parents
very often want a quick fix,” Dr. Carlson said, “and doctors rarely
have much time to spend with them, and the great appeal of prescribing
a medication is that it’s simple.

“To me one of the miracle of children’s brains is that we don’t see more harm from these treatments.”

HAPPY VALENTINES DAY...

You know, the day roses are at least $20.00 a dozen. On the 13th, you can get them for 6 bucks at the HEB, in any color variation you want...same goes for the 15th, and every other day of the year. Needless to say, I don't buy roses on V day. I get a variety of different flowers (usually 3 bunches) and for a moment I am a floral designer. A retarded one, but at least I get the colors right. And Ann gets roses 4 times a year instead of one. It's a win win.
This years selection was no exception, the arrangement was uh, stilted to be kind, but the form and colors were right on the money. At least that's what Ann said.
The card was pretty good too, but the envelope was a challenge. I'll spare you the details.
Then on to dinner, my original plan was Red Lobster. But when we got there you'd think the Rolling Stones were playing there...cars were spilled out for a couple blocks on the street from the lot...so we went to Hill's cafe instead...a local roadhouse (since 1978 apparently...I remember them being around longer). No wait, perfect vibe, excellent service, and an awesome special 3 course meal. With choices no less! Ann had sirloin and shrimp on a sizzling skillet with a baked potato...salad to start. I had prime rib and shrimp with a loaded (ha!) baked potato and french onion soup to start. Our waitress was well versed and (almost) too down home perky, but she provided great service.
Kismet! We both said...it was meant to be.
And it made for a memorable V day, after all these years I can still see the sparkle in her eyes.
And that's a good feeling.
Hope you all had a good feeling too.
:)

I JUST CAN'T LEAVE THIS HAGGARD THING ALONE

Comedy GOLD I tell ya...GOLD.
Enjoy...

LET'S TEST TED...V.1

RANDOM THOUGHTS...

There's this awesome quote from Phil Lynott ( god rest his guts ) in the Thin Lizzy box set that I have stolen and made my own.
"When I'm in the USA (England), I say, I'm from Texas (Ireland). When I'm in Texas (Ireland), I say, I'm from Austin (Dublin). When I'm in Austin (Dublin), I say, I'm from South Austin.(Crumlin) When I'm in South Austin, I say, I'm from Garden Villa Estates. When I'm in Garden Villa Estates, I say, I'm from Garden Villa Lane (Leighlin Road). When I'm in Garden Villa Lane (Leighlin Road), I say, I'm a Clattenburg (Lynott)".
I love that quote...
Met the kids for lunch today...Sean is growing and (despite the periodic outbursts of I'm almost 2 and pissed) was very entertaining. I especially liked the way he punched his finger through his enchilada bites and considered them visually before shoving them in his mouth and nodding yes. Being a grandparent agrees with me, and that's a good thing, because we will have a grand daughter in the mix in early summer. That's what they were hoping for and couldn't be happier. I'm happy for them.
This ties into a number of coincidences around my purchase of said Thin Lizzy box set.
I bought a cap and shirt that say Ireland before, I got the box set, I bought The Departed ( about Irish gangs in Boston ) after. I learned i have a grand daughter coming, and this song is on the box set...

Little Girl In Bloom

Little girl in bloom
With happy heart you wipe aside
Any sadness, sorrow or gloom
Tomorrow you'll be a blushing bride
That loves her blushing groom

Little girl in bloom
You watch the men play cricket
From the window in your room
See the ball go from bat to wicket
Pass away the afternoon

Little girl in bloom
Carries a secret
The child she carries in her womb
She feels something sacred
She's gonna be a mammy soon

When your daddy comes home
Don't tell him till alone
When your daddy comes back
Go tell him the facts
Just relax and see how he's gonna react

Little girl in bloom
All the clouds will go drifting by
So sing your lullabying tune
Every word is in your eyes
As you sit and softly croon

Little girl in bloom
Your love it fills the air
With the scent of the sweetest, sweet perfume
You feel so good you just don't care
You're gonna be a mammy soon

When your daddy comes home
Don't tell him till alone
When your daddy comes back
Go tell him the facts
Just relax and see how he's gonna react

Awesome....
And finally...
...Laredo, we have a problem.

ANGUS LOVES ME THIS I KNOW

The riffs in Night Prowler tell me so.
I may or may not have metioned that what with the bad ass overtime I've been getting, I've been buying the reissues of the early AC/DC albums up to and including "Back in Black" featuring that annoying Ronnie James Dio looking scottish fuck in a Judd Hirsch
plaid button down cabbie hat cocked just enough to the side to scream "I'm an asshole and I will never replace Bon...Aussie bastard.
Along the way, I discovered a couple of jems..."Back in Baroque" a CD of AC/DC done chamber music style and "If you want strum...you got it" An acoustic country/alt take on the band. Nice.
Thank you bad ass overtime.

SKY MONKEY RUMINATIONS

I tried to read Acts and Luke, but all that bible writing style frightened and confused me. So I did a google search and found a very comprehensive overview here.
I remembered most of this from sunday
school, but over the years it apparently has been nuanced by my ever
increasing cynicism about the nature of man ( people basically suck).
So, the stoner
version is this...Jesus was a really cool dude who set out to find
people in need of his product (whether they knew it or not) and had a
posse of apostles helping him spread the word, which they did...all
over the place. Most people were cool with Jesus and his posse, but
there were some that were threatened by the message and the movement,
and in a show oftheir displeasure they betrayed him and nailed him to a
fucking cross for his trouble. And he still forgave them. If I had of been Jesus, I would have been shooting lightning bolts of gawd into those murderous bastards ( which is why I'm not Jesus ) Besides, I'm an
electrician, not a carpenter.
Jesus had the power to heal, and heal he did. A leper, a blind person, Linda Blair of the time and others.
I'm sure this supernatural ability, while greatly appreciated by those
healed, was even a bigger threat to his enemies.
And then he showed them by reanimating after 3 days. I don't know if you've seen what a mortal looks like 3 days dead, but that was some mean trick.
Jesus was a man that had
some great ideas about how we should treat each other. He had a
following of like minded individuals that spread those ideas
around...in fact, you still see them today, only instead of flowing
robes and beards anddonkeys, you have bicycles and white shirts and bad ties...and recently, tardo looking helmets.
But then we arrive at the sticky wicket that Jesus' dad is GOD, who lives
in the heavens and built the world in 7 days, well 6, cause after all
that hard work he needed a day to rest. I know that if I had created
the known universe and all of it's contents in 6 days, I would need a
day off too. But, Hey, if he's GOD he shouldn't need a day off, right?
Unless he's union, then we got rules.
And that's where me and organized religion split paths. If his dad was Jesus sr. and a master carpenter...well that's one thing, but omnipotent? I don't think so.
That's like me saying Optimus Prime was my old man...my dad ruled, but he was mortal.
I've got no problem with the bible as a historical record, it's a good read
(even in cliff note format) but that "magical" aspect of it makes it
kinda Star Wars, Ya know?
Plus, you've got all these factions...catholics, baptists, methodists,lutherans, pentecosts (the worst ever) , mormons, et al saying that they are right and everyone else is wrong and on a hellbound train. There's something wrong with that.
I agree with Popeyemoon, with one distinction. I wouldn't say luck, I would say- Karma.
I don't see how Luke or Acts has anything to do with me being electrocuted.
I did buy a zippo with Jesus on it yesterday, it makes my camels feel holy.
And speaking of holy and inspirational, here's a new comic:
Obama '08

OVER AND OVER AND OVER AGAIN...

I bought the Thin Lizzy coffee table book / box set today... I probably spent too much money on it, but fuck it.
It rules.
I fucking love Thin Lizzy.
And I've finally succumbed to dressing up dogs when I found this little outfit for Irene...

Bow wow wow indeed...:)

WHY THE DEMOCRATIC PARTY IS REALLY THE TARDOCRATIC PARTY

This is the front running nominee:



And here's the second...



Anyone who really believes that a woman or a black man can be elected president in todays world has to be drunk or own an extra chromosome.
Democrats need to change the logo from a donkey to something involving a pistol and a foot.
Not gonna happen...trust me on this one.
If Hillary and/or Obama end up as the dem nominee we can look forward to 4 more years of Bush in the form of Jeb.
Mark my words.

WHY AM I RE-POSTING SHIT AT 1:45AM ?

I knew about this glitch hours ago...even a fucking day ago, but I couldn't be assed to correct it.
My ribs woke me up, you know, those god damn injured ribs from monday's event. Well, they're still injured, and they hurt the most in the wee hours, waking me up and making me hard to deal with.
Pain does not equal creativity...bitch.
But a picture is still worth a 1000...

NEW BEERS!


Gotta Love Satan...

For our babies...
You know, I posted this very same (almost) entry the other night with witty text about the yuppy central market and the third world, but for some reason the "new and improved blogger" fucked my post up by losing the pictures.
Way to go asstards.
So here they are again, sans edgy writing.
DAMMIT.

Hell must be freezing over..
Hell must be freezing over because I'm writing a blog post. Oh, I've started quite a few posts over the last month or two, but I've either been interrupted by something three sentences in and never got back to it or I've had to delete them because they said too much about work. I'm still working at the same place in the same job, working crazy hours, weekends and holidays while attempting to do the impossible - which I apparently did pull off at one point a month ago since I'm still there. There are days (most of them) when I kick myself for not letting myself get fired. Of course, that firing is always a possibility tomorrow or the next day, but that's true with any job and right now I'm more interested in figuring out how to enjoy this mess I've landed in. If I can pull that off then I suppose I'll have to write one of those "how to love your job" books and start doing seminars to teach others my "secret" - hahahaha. No, I haven't found the million dollar secret yet, but maybe it's out there waiting... just around the corner... and if I find it, I'll even share it with you right here on this blog for free. Wish me luck.

IS THERE SOME KIND OF SUPREME BEING AFTER ALL?

Since my dance with Mr. 120 volts the other day and my survival of said encounter without a fall to a tile floor, I have been calling people who mean something to me and just connecting...I've got more calls to make but I'm getting there.
I talked with my buddy John in Colorado tonight, and while it's an always a sarcasm filled exchange peppered with the latest bad jokes and general nastiness, god came up.
John's been involved with his church for awhile now, but it's a very tolerant involvement. And one that mirrors my beliefs closely.
I've got to think, how, at 47 years old, I was able to pull off the moves that prevented a fall? I'm in fairly good shape but I'm no spring chicken. I think somebody helped me out. Now...I'm not going to go all god on ya'll, that will never happen.
But luck just falls kinda short on this one. There was something else.
I just wonder what.

TED HAGGARD IS CURED!!!

And in only 3 weeks! I'll be damned...those evangelicals are downright amazing.
I imagine him in the "fellowship" room strapped to a chair all Alex like in A Clockwork Orange forced to watch Destination dirtpipe 2 over and over again set to a soundtrack of Barry White's greatest love songs.
Please...I'm reminded of a fake ad in an old National lampoon magazine fashioned after the sand kicked in the face body building ads in comic books. Only this one was called "Anita Bryants in home 10 day Homo Nomo course".
If anything, he is a repressed homosexual back to pretending he is heterosexual, and if you think god works in mysterious ways, you are correct...God is making them all lie about it.
Here's a new comic on the subject:

http://www.wittycomics.com/comic/19824

Enjoy...

JUST LIKE RIDING A BIKE...SORT OF

This morning I went back up that ladder to the box that hung me up yesterday to confront my demon, only to be asked to add yet another circuit to it before I buttoned it up. I added the circuit as requested and began to make up joints. My ribs were (are) still really sore and the stretching involved was just too much, or maybe I was gun shy, probably a combination of the two. So I deferred to Steve and made up boxes on down the line that were closer to the ground and had only one circuit. And I had my volt tic with me all day.
I have always known that news travels fast with this company, so I wasn't surprised when people who weren't around yesterday were asking me how I was. It was nice that folks were concerned about me.
So, today, around the same time I danced with Mr. 120v yesterday, I was on top of a 8 foot ladder attaching a mc cable (metal clad cable with a hot, a ground and a neutral)to a fish tape when the fire alarm guys tested the system. There was a horn about 6 inches from my head and it sounded exactly like what I heard yesterday. It freaked me the fuck out!
I never did find my Kleins...so I'm off to Home Depot to buy a new pair.

OK...LETS RECAP...

The drill bit burn:



Ouch...it still hurts.

The almost killed by electricity hand injury:



The almost killed by electricity shin injury:


Now, I've been at this electrician thing for going on 3 years and I have been cut burned and electrocuted more since last friday than in the rest of my experience total. You think working 12 and 14 hour days six days a week has anything to do with it?
Me neither...:).

IT WAS BOUND TO HAPPEN, BUT WHY TODAY?

I got hung up on a live wire this afternoon...120v. Now I've been bit several times, but never hung up. That's when you're grounded ( I had one arm resting on a metal stud header, the other against a metal conduit ) and can't let go. I couldn't. let. go.
It really is like they show in cartoons when someone gets electrocuted, I could see my bones.
I thought I was going to die. Seriously.
One minute I was making up joints, the next I was frying.
Needless to say, I was on top of a ladder in the ceiling. The only way to get loose was to fall back away from the box. Which I did. I had the presence of mind to throw my arm over the sprinkler pipe on the way down and shove my boot in between a stud and the wall, so I was spared a 12 foot drop to the floor. The ceiling grid is wasted. I cut the shit out of the top of my right hand and my right shin and the inside of my upper left arm, not sure how all that happened.
I found my strippers and my screwdriver, but my kleins are m.i.a...which is a bummer, cause I've had them since day one.
Those breakers were OFF, before I climbed up in the ceiling to make joints. Somebody had to turn that fucker back on.
All I know is I'm alive and I will never be complacent about checking circuits again. EVER.
Hoo Whee!

LEFT HAND 1 , RIGHT HAND 5 , ARMPIT 1

14 hours today, in the home run closet going up and down that fucking ladder with a variety of tools and material for all of those 14 hours. Climb up and take measurements between junction boxes, climb down and bend pipe, climb up and dry fit, climb down and adjust. Climb up and put in place (or in most cases adjust again ) . Put in place , mark for straps...climb down and go find straps. Climb up and hammerdrill holes for straps,place hammerdrill on stud, hammerdrill shifts and begins to fall from ceiling, shift on ladder and catch hammerdrill like a wide receiver catches a football, white hot drill bit ends up in your armpit and sears your flesh. Climb down, go to mirror and examine new soon to be scar...not so bad. Climb back up, set straps, terminate pipe, push in wire.
Box 1 push: easy, no injury. Box 2 push: easy, no injury. Boxes 1 and 2 had 3/4 inch pipe with 9 wires each. Not a problem. Box 3 had two 1/2 inch pipes, one with 5 wires, one with 8 wires. The 5 wire folded up as I was pushing with all might, grazing my right knuckles against the edges of the box...5 times.
The 8 wire got my left pinky 1 time. This happened at the end of the night, and I was so focused on finishing ( and did not want to climb up and down that motherfucking ladder one more time )
That I ignored left pinky..."Ain't got time to bleed". I forgot about it, and when I got home I saw this bloody pinky.
I fucking love my job.