Make With The MMXVII

Monday edition because yesterday...  Being the BeBe Jeezys' birthday and all...

Lessee... January was David Bowie and Alan Rickman.

February was Justice Antonin Scalia and Harper Lee.

March was Sir George Martin and Garry Shandling.

April was Prince and Merle Haggard.

May was Morley Safer.

June was Muhammed Ali and Gordie Howe.

July was Garry Marshall.

August saw the passing of Kenny Baker and Gene Wilder.

September was Arnold Palmer.

October was facts and logic.

November was Ron Glass, Fidel Castro, Florence Henderson, and hope.

And in December, with 5 days yet to go... John Glenn and George Michael.

Did I know any of these people? Not really. Did they have an impact on my life? Some more than others. Are these the only people of note who passed this year? No... Fucking Grizzly Adams, man! FISH IS DEAD... But... To be honest... We all thought Abe Vigoda died 20 years ago. It was a terrible year for "Barney Miller" I tells ya! More than one person on that list provided laughs, or took away the strife of the day through entertainment... So, they were aces in my book.

This year has sucked. I can only support this opinion from my own point of view.

In world events, January saw the Zika virus hitting the U.S.. Flint, Michigan declared a state of emergency. I think 13 people are going to be seeing jail time... Good.

February, with the aforementioned death of Scalia, saw the Supreme Court of the United States of America made "irrelevant". The Grand Obstructionist Party decided that it would rather have NO Supreme Court than allow the SITTING PRESIDENT his right, NAY, his duty, of nominating a Judge.

March saw terror attacks in Brussels. Of course, people here in the U.S. were worried about who was using which bathroom.

April saw Mississippi pass the "Religious Freedom" Bill. This allowed people/businesses with "religious beliefs" to be total assholes to anyone they wanted, without fear of repercussions, because... well... The bible told them they were special.

May saw Trump become the "presumptive nominee" of the Republican Party. In other tragic news, Harambe got shot... The best summation of that event was this:

Thanks, Opus. Also in May, Canada caught on fire.

June was just a swell month! There was the Orlando night club shooting. The UCLA shooting. That human piece of shit Brock Turner got his "sentence" of 6 months jail time (he did two months) for THREE FELONY COUNTS OF SEXUAL ASSAULT! Along with Ali and Howe, "justice" also laid to rest.

Oh, and across the pond, Britain, getting tired of the U.S. political system hogging all the "batshit crazy", decided to enact the "Brexit"... The next day, most of the populace, who were stoked into a nationalistic frenzy, were quoted as saying, "I voted for what?"

July was not much better. The FBI states that no charges would be filed against Clinton... And that was the last we heard 'bout that! (Italics denote sarcasm!) In my neck of the woods, a peaceful protest against police brutality went tragically wrong when a single individual ambushed police officers, killing five. I think there was an Olympics or something... Brazil was too busy eating itself to host it in any way resembling "orderly".

August saw Syria turning into MORE of a complete shit show. Just when you think Syria could not get more fucked... It is like Syria is taking it as a dare. "Oh, I can be more of a quagmire... JUST YOU WATCH!!!!"

Dakota Access Pipeline... That was September. People gathering to save their WATER SUPPLY and big oil saying "It's not like you people were here first!". The first of the "Presidential" debates aired. So, along with Palmer, so went the death of civility. At this point, people were just in a apathetic state with the whole election process. And there was at least a month to go...

October had Hurricane Matthew hit the eastern seaboard. Funny note... due to what the locals would call "Jesus Needin' To Have Somewheres To Stroll", and what smart people would call "Climate Change", the waters did NOT recede. The ground being super saturated and overflowing rivers in a few of the the Atlantic states caused problems with the water not really going... away...

November... We all know the terrible tragedy that befell this great nation in November. By electing Donald Trump, this nation saw hope getting grabbed by the pussy and assaulted. The Chicago Cubs won the world series... If that ain't a sign... I dunno what is.

December... I spent a cold ass week in Utah. So...  Enough said... Well.. Wait... Every nomination and appointment of the President-Elect is a dick slap in the mouth of all who voted for him. Furthering the thought from the previous paragraph, the whole holiday season was "muffled". The only way I can really summarize the way things have been since the election, is "Tainted". It is like the "Happiness Index" can only go up to 96%. That last four percent is not available as long as that Cheeto-Fucker is the President.

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Well... That was depressing as fuck.

Some quick shots of good news: The Army Core of Engineers told the Dakota Access Pipeline to fuck off. Obama is STILL doing some nice shit in his last days to make Trump have a bit of a harder time fucking us all. "Stranger Things" on Netflix... "Chewbacca Mask Lady" made me cry with laughter...

Um... That is about it... How fucked up is it that you have to Google , "Good Things that happened in 2016" and you read through them and can only remark, "Oh, you fuckers are reaching..." One site listed "Pokemon Go!" as a good thing... Okay... Sure... The bar has been sooooooo lowered.

I will say this... The light has been shown on the two legged cockroaches. People, emboldened by the election, are showing their true colors. I never feared the skinhead, swastika emblazoned, racist fucks... They were visible... They were a known quantity.

It was all those people who were just in shadowy wings... The periphery ... Waiting... People who you thought you knew. Now, they are not afraid to show their true colors. It is a feeling of disappointment on a mass, national scale.

I steel myself with the words from what is called "The Greatest Speech"...

"To those who can hear me, I say - do not despair. The misery that is now upon us is but the passing of greed - the bitterness of men who fear the way of human progress. The hate of men will pass, and dictators die, and the power they took from the people will return to the people. And so long as men die, liberty will never perish." - Hynkel

Well... That and this... WELL worth the five minutes...

Thanks, John. Like the man says... "Let's all try harder next year."

With no love in our souls, and no money in our coats,

d

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The Audience Is Listening?

A few weeks back, I wrote a little blog here about winter winds. I was pretty damn proud of it. A friend who is a reader said it "painted a picture". Even better, it "painted a picture without involving clown porn".

This site gives me stats and number of times a blog post was viewed. It was there that I learned that a whopping twelve people read it. TWELVE. TWELVE! I hate that number. Probably due to it being my least favorite age... "Why are girls still icky.... BUT making me feel kinda funny and not AS icky???"

I was thinking about how I was kind of butt hurt by the whole affair. I was really happy with the way that post turned out and was looking forward to the adulation that was going to rain down from all of my fan. The last thing I was expecting was the sound of crickets.

It brought sharply to focus a phrase my Dad stopped me in my tracks with a decade or two ago... I was going to a parade, or making fun of a parade, I forget (Probably the later). He waxed philosophically, "Who is the parade really for, the people in the parade or for the people watching the parade?"

Mind Blah-own!

I like to think that I am not an attention whore. I have never felt the need to be the center of the party. I realize that if a party is for a specific person/event, they are the focus.

Having had an actual surprise birthday party thrown for me, where I WAS the focus, I remember being exhausted by the end of the day trying to be a good host at my house, and make sure everyone knew I was thankful for their appearance. Oh, and to let them know that heart attack inducing surprises are in store for each and every one of them.

Tiffany Rossetti... Watch your ass!

However, when I wrote that blog, and got abysmal readership... I might have uttered a "What the fuck?" or six... Am I really that thirsty (as the kids call it, and you add the words "for attention"... see all the time that saved????)?

After some soul searching... Yes. You damn right I want people to enjoy my writing. I don't just do this for my own amusement. I do this for the same reason people share anything... To inflict the demons from their head into yours! Share that burden, people!

The end game has always been that a reader suggests this blog to a friend. The friend has a chuckle, so they refer it to another friend. SOON, a person who has a shit tonne of money and is a publisher type person or something, says, "This is fantastic! Love this shit! I want to give that guy money to write!"

I would love, love, LOVE to get paid to this. First, I would be my own boss. Finally, a boss who I want to have sex with!!! Who am I kidding? I have sex with me for free anyways! And yes... You get what you paid for!

Second... I would smoke weed. A lot. As an "artist", I would think of it as a "creative juice extractor"... "Cancer preventative"? (Fuck you, FDA. 1000 times, Fuck you!)

Third... I would be getting paid to do something I like... I like writing and there is no paying "Lego Model Putter Together-er" jobs out there... Not even "Topless Lego Model Putter Together-er". I checked.

As the end of the year draws near, I will have some vay-kay time to burn. I know that I will kick out a blog or two over the holidays, maybe skipping next weekend to celebrate the Bebe Jeeezys' birthday. I know in my down time, I will be doing research on how to get my readership of the Bleed to go up.

Can you imagine a world with t-shirts that say "WOMEN AREN'T THE ONLY ONES WHO BLEED!" or "I FEEL THE NEED, THE NEED FOR THE BLEED!" or "THE HIGHPOINTBLEED TOLD ME TO PUNCH YOU IN THE DICK!"

It would make me smile... To see my Mom... Sporting a shirt that condones a penis getting pugilistically pummeled... Hell, I get misty eyed thinking about it.

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This week, I also discovered that my Facebook feed, since mid November, was set to only show posts to "Close Friends"

Of which, I have none. For fuck's sake, I only have 50 friends on Facebook. I keep that shit low. If you are my friend on Facebook, you are my close friend. I have known you for at least a decade OR at one time wanted to see you naked. All good.

That, more than anything, is the main culprit for the low readership the past few weeks. It is the only place I "advertise" a new posting. Once again... looking into remedying that.

Just think... All you peeps can do the "I was there from the beginning!" stance when I get all famous and stuff... Free t-shirts for the LOYAL peeps!

Final update... Still seeing the lady who has me smitten as a kitten. She called my writing "Brilliant". That means she is either 1) easily amused. 2) Has EXCELLENT taste, 3) Kinda likes me. Any way you slice it... I will take a piece.

We're on the road to nowhere,

d

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Paddle. Check.

So, I am at a conference in Utah. Had some time between presentations, so I jotted down some blog ideas. Pretty much have the rest of the year covered! Utah was not as useless as one would think.

This one idea was about how white water rafting is dangerous. On so many levels.

First there is the fact you have to be properly equipped and in good shape in order to successfully engage in the activity.

I mean you have to know YOUR limitations... What you can and can't handle. If you are not fully prepared and in shape to tackle the river... You are going to hurt yourself, or someone else.

While I know there are other people involved, sometimes old friends, who you rely on, and sometimes it is new friends, bonding over the common factor of insanity that is white water rafting.

Secondly, there is boarding and embarking on the journey. This in and of itself is a trying process. You do not know what to expect. The brochures make it look exciting as all hell!, and if you talk to anyone who has done it before, they will tell you about how wonderful it is. Your really good friends will tell you about the pain they endured... The bruises and broken things... It happens.

The beginning is uncomfortable. New sensations. New things to learn and remember. The price of negligence is costly.

So... You are fully on the river... Flowing along. You have to be careful NOT to get off course. You can take the wrong fork and be completely and wholly fucked. There will be forks in the beginning that may be easy to recognize the proper channel to take will be obvious. Now, if the waters get choppy and rapid, the choices have to be made in a heartbeat, and the consequences dire...

There is also the peril of getting swept away. Not caring... Letting yourself go and just seeing "where the river takes you". It can be inviting and alluring to do so.. Throw out the "It is what it is!" or "YOLO!" (which I am happy to say is one of the good things to die in 2016) comment and just surrender.

The major drawback is that you may not like where you end up, and how costly is was to get there in money and time...

Speaking of time, it becomes an even more ethereal thing... Seeming to have stretches of forever, where you don't even notice or remember the last time you saw the river. Then there are times where you feel like there is not enough time, it is flying by so fast, before you know it... you have to say goodbye to the river...

Another thing, and this is just my personal opinion... when you are in a raft... and cruising along... Other rafts may show up... Rafts you have been on before... You know the raft... And while that journey ended, the raft was not really the issue... So... It may look tempting... BUT... beware.

Trying to navigate between two rafts... That is exactly when the waters will get choppy and agitated beyond comprehension. The likelihood of capsizing BOTH rafts, and a whole lot of misery, and drowning, is increased by a magnitude of eleventy billion. I avoid that shit like the plague.

If you communicate with people who are in the raft with you... And hell, even with the raft... With the river... The chances you will successfully navigate the churning, frothy, waters improve dramatically. It is a team effort.

Now... in every excursion on the river... There may come a time to bail. The waters are raging. There are rocks ahead. There are many, many signs telling you, SCREAMING at you, "Danger Ahead! Like 'you are going to end up bloody' Danger, and it is coming at YOU!"

This is the decision that will haunt you for a while. The decision you will look back on with regret. Wishing you had, or wishing you hadn't... You will look back and wonder "What if?", more than once.

If that point comes to fruition, you will wonder, "How in the name of fuck did I get here? I was smart. I planned ahead. I followed the rules." When white water rafting, the rules are in place, and through no fault of your own, you can find yourself in the aforementioned Pucker Factor 5000 Danger Zone.

Sadly... There may not even be ANY danger. The waters calm and serene... And you will still want to exit the raft. There is not any other rafts that have drawn your attention... There is no turbulence... Some white water rafting trips just don't work out... Nobody's fault. Just not the right time... You do your best to minimize the damage to yourself and others when this happens.

After all the warnings... You may be wondering, "Why in the name of all this is holy and unholy would anyone subject themselves to that???"

There is no feeling like it. Butterflies. Thrills. You feel like you have the opportunity to be the best version of you that you can be. You make memories. A shared experience that is yours to cherish forever. Regardless of what happens... If you have been on that river for a while, it has left your heart and soul with it's imprint.

You can't get that standing on the shore.

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Wait... I was thinking about relationships and falling for someone... NOT white water rafting. I would not go white water rafting if you paid me. And paid me well. Lots of zeros. Read it again, and do the analogy/metaphor thingy... Rafts are people... River is a relationship... That sorta shit.

I am in a relationship. While that nomenclature is pretty broad... It is easier to type than "We are enjoying each other's company and seeing what happens in an organic and natural progression (And we enjoy the kissing and fooling around)."

For the record.. Utah was bitter fucking cold. First time I have been on a plane that needed to be "de-iced", which makes ones sphincter twitch a tad... The best part of the trip was the sandwich in the airports Gordon Biersch's restaurant when departing the Beehive state.

The Artisan Grilled Cheese... Gruyere cheese, four strips of thick cut, hickory smoked, bacon, a flavorful avocado mayo spread on sourdough bread, grilled to perfection... FUCK YES! Can't recommend enough. And according to the internets... They are everywhere, not just in Salt Lake City International Airport! SCORE!

Parting shot... 10,000 some odd views on my little writings... I appreciate it...

Up the creek,

d

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The State Snack is Jell-O

Tomorrow I am heading to Utah for a conference. Third time to this conference, and it will be the same people talking about the same thing. Always in Utah. So... down and dirty blog time.

Flying north in the winter is a bad idea, ask any damn migratory bird. The organizers announced that they were going to have it in December this time so people can go skiing after the conference. There was a smattering of "ooohs" from the audience. the rest of us were thinking, "December in Utah... Lovely."

I have the Nook loaded up with movies and books and all manner of diversion.

The hotel bar does not carry Coke products... WTF? I asked the bartender for a Jack and Coke, and he asks, ""Will a Jack and Pepsi do?"

"No. No. Hell no."

We are down the street from a cult temple. Ever been somewhere and everybody seems well adjusted and nice? Yeah... I am not a fan either.

The weather will be unseasonably... cold... and the highest temperature during the sentence will be 34. The HIGHEST temperature...

My folks are in town to watch Lily... AND give me presents for Xmas when I get back...

I will get paid on the day we fly back.

I am looking for any silver lining, because this will be the first trip in quite some time that I have someone I want to get back to.

She still likes me. I like her.

Thursday is so very far away,

d

No tunes this time... BUT... to get macabre.... If I were to perish... Mom and Dad get all my shit... Delete the "Downloads" folder on my computer - Trust me. Just do it....

IT'S RIP #$%@& TAYLOR!

I didn't want to write this weekend.

I am afraid of a few things... First and foremost, tomorrow is my first day back at work since the 18th. Nine days off. I may have forgotten a password to a server or two...

In the first five of these nine glorious days of "not a fucking care in the world", I did nothing. I binged Game of Thrones, I played some Xbox, I made a trip to the grocery or booze store, but seriously nothing of import.

Then... I made a date.

The date was Friday evening. Just a meet and greet. We are now planning seeing each other tomorrow night. The first second date of 2016. We like each other. She is absolutely gorgeous.

This will also make tomorrow at work that much more of a bitch to get through.

So... I am happy. Which does not lend itself to writing a blog where you rant and rave about shit. I remember the band Godsmack, talking about their third album being the most difficult...

"Hard to be pissed off and angry when you are a millionaire."

So... with that in mind... I would like to take this moment to talk to Hallmark, American Greetings, and Blue Mountain... The top three greeting card companies...

GLITTER ON CARDS SUCKS BIGGER THAN THE BIGGEST SUCK THAT EVER SUCKED SUCK.

Seriously... I got my birthday card from Mom and Dad, and after checking for money, read it. Beautiful sentiment... Truly... There were tears... Wiped my eyes! (Not really, but Mom is an avid reader and she was happy for that nanosecond... Was a nice card Mom! sincerely!)

I went to the bathroom, to accomplish the tasks you do when you enter a bathroom, and as I was passing the mirror, out of the corner of my eye, I caught a glimmer...

Upon gazing at my face, it looked as if I had been booby bitch slapped by a bountiful bevy of bombastically bosom-ed burlesque dancers... Honestly, I have been to gentleman's clubs and have exited wearing less glitter than I did reading this card.

Now, there is only one greater offense in the "card sending world" and that is: adding confetti to cards. Some people want to pack their invitation to Taylor's Second grade Graduation with Rip Taylor levels of confetti...

For you young'uns...

"Thank you for the card... And making me break out the fucking vacuum cleaner. Also, can't wait till I am moving out of this house fourteen years from now and still finding fucking confetti... My RSVP now stands for 'Really? Suck Venomous Penis!'"

By intrinsic properties... If I get a glittery card, that has confetti in it... I am legally absolved of all wrong doing. KILL CRAZY RAMPAGE!!!!!

Heretofore known as the "The Hallmark + Asshole Defense Loophole"

Christmas is coming, people. Make it snow... but not with glitter. I mentioned this to my date while on the phone. Her first response was to think of a person she really is not a fan of, but will probably have to end up sending a card to... I could HEAR the evil smirk! "Hmmm... Confetti"...

I do like her.

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I am soooooooooooo looking forward to tomorrow...

While I am not blinded by emotions (yet), I am happy that there IS potential. Potential denotes possibilities. Possibilities are based on odds and as a not so great smugglar once remarked, "Never tell me the odds."

Then he went and successfully navigated an asteriod field. (3720:1, against. ALPHA GEEK!)

2016 has blown all magnitudes of goat. If this is how 2017 is ushered in, I am okay with that.

It's a beautiful morning,

d

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Ka Thoo Loo - It'll Make Sense

Talking with Moms earlier this week. She pondered why when it was cold, the wind was more audible. When it gets cold... The wind seems to be screaming. I am sure there is some science to it... but I just feel like it is because it is the dying time of year.

I thought back to all the cold nights I have had, and there have been quite a few. They were never ending, and always were somehow darker.

Nights where the wind is howling, and you are waiting on someone you love, who is travelling... You know the roads are treacherous, vision is compromised, and you are powerless. The. Worst. Nights. Ever.

December of 1990, I was waiting on my parents. They were on the road from Kansas... Basically coming to pick me up at my grandparents house in Michigan. I was an adult... 18 years old for about six weeks... I had gone out into the big bad world, and subsequently had my ass solidly handed back to me.

Smoking like a chimney, as I watched the snow fall and listened to the whine of the wind through the giant pines, accompanied by the solemn voice of Mr. Presley crooning "I'll Be Home For Christmas" from the ever present kitchen radio. Sitting in the dark... and watching every set of headlights coming down E Drive... Hoping they turned into the driveway.

I remember the relentless winds of Kansas winters. Going out to the wood pile to get an "all-nighter" for the stove. Cracking open the door, hearing a scream of wind as the seal was broken. It was like a front in a battle... a horde of invaders, making all the noise they could to intimidate the defenders, warm in their keep.

The Kansas winds of winter were equally brutal in that there was no escape... If you were outside, and it was windy, you were cold. End of story. You could put on as many layers as you wanted... But that wind would sneak... penetrate... creep in... and hit that one spot on the top of your butt crack that reduces your bladder to that of a 10 year old girl's on a road trip.

I was in a "treehouse" above a shed in Andover, Kansas. My "girlfriend" on my lap - for purely warmth sharing purposes (Oh, the lies we told!). I was a Sophomore so... Started feeling funny... And oh so good! ("No, I am just happy to see you... Nothing in my pockets!") I remember holding her, and her telling me that she liked my hands because they made her feel secure and safe. I floated home that night...

In the military, I spent winter the winter of 1995/96 in Turkey and while it never got super cold, the winds would sweep down from the Taurus Mountains. I remember the tents being rated for 45 mph winds. I also remember the night we got word that a storm was coming through with gusts up to 60 mph. Not a lot of sleeping going on as the tent "breathed"... And try sleeping with stakes and a mallet... A couple of tents in Tent City (aptly named!) were toppled, we were lucky though. However, I will never, ever forget that sound.

Again, I have no clue as to why just the SOUND of a 15 mph wind, in December, makes you shiver. The same breeze is not even audible in the summer. Also, a 15 mph wind in the summer is almost a blessing! Winter has "wind chill", summer has "heat index"... Both equally shitty, like oral sex from a rabid honey badger. Having never received oral administrations from Mellivora capensis, suffering from a virus in the Mononegaviralis order... I am just guessing it would be pretty no bueno.

The song that will always and forever take me to those nights where you feel you will never get warm again is "The Call of Cthulu" (refer to Title! Told ya!) by Metallica... just the opening 15 seconds alone...

It's an instrumental Mom, so... You don't have to worry about not understanding the words.

Like I mentioned earlier, cold and windy nights always seem darker. I don't think there has ever been a "happy" story that started with "It was cold, dark, and the wind was blowing..." 

Winter is the season of dying. The wind in the winter is the exhalation of that death... The could be the reason that the wind sounds different. The last struggling gasp before the calm and rebirth of spring. The loudest the breezes of other seasons ever got was in Type O Negative's cover of Seals and Croft's "Summer Breeze".

On the complete opposite end of the spectrum, I remember the winter nights of absolute stillness. Where it seems like a spell has been cast and the first sound is shockingly loud... and pulls you out of the trance.

One nights in Michigan, where I was smoking outside, marvelling at the serenity of the night and suddenly I was aware of a deer plodding through the grandparents yard... Both of us startling each other...

The night in Texas, three years back when a freeze came through, knocking out power. I remember waking up to what I thought were gunshots. Confused and trying to listen for the offending racket... I was amazed at how eerily quiet it was... then KRRRRRKRACK! as a tree limb gave way to the weight of the ice.

This post was brought on by the aforementioned conversation with Moms, and the fact that the first true cold snap hit this Friday. Had to turn on the heater today.

The first-time-heater-comes-on-burnt-smell is for another blog. 

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This week I did my best to provide an escape from the current state of affairs... I felt I needed a respite from the deluge of shitty, shitty news coming from the next Administrative branch.

Just reminiscing about winters past, makes me happy... It also brings a twinge of sadness. I scoped the Google maps, Earth view for my grandparents place. It is gone. Wiped from existence. It lives on in my minds eye... and in my heart. While I remember, and cherish, hundreds of memories, I lament those I can't recall...

What I would not give for one more night, windy or not.

Caught beneath the landslide,

d

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Setting The Course of My Discourse

It has been a long ass week. There is no mirth in the air. Everything is tinted with uncertainty.

Yesterday was my birthday, and while I received the warmest and kindest well wishings, I felt zero reason for celebrating.  It took me a while to put my finger on it... then it hit me... I am in grief.

Denial

Are there really that many white guys who want to say the "n" word? I am flabbergasted by the "Secret" vote that showed up and proved the pollsters and data crunching types completely wrong. I am talking about "guys who never have kissed a girl" data crunching types...

I saw some of the Colbert coverage on election night... When it became apparent that things had gone so horribly wrong, the tone shifted and became somber and morose. It was just sad.

There are petitions screaming for the electoral college, who officially declares the votes on December 19th to cast their votes for Clinton. If there was ever an example of denial... I think this sums it up.

Donald Trump, TV Reality Show Host, Real Estate "Mogul", Daddy Made Millionaire, Thrice divorced, Contractor Stiffing, Fraudulent University Creating, Six Time Bankruptcy Surviving, Pussy Grabbing/Sexually Assaulting, Daughter Creeping, Climate Change Denying, Birther Movement Leading, Tax and Draft Dodging, Meat Peddling, and just all around piece of shit, is going to be President.

FUCKING ANGER

Have I had visions of his demise run through the ol' noggin here? Of course. My mind hit a new level of sadism that even scared ME. I had to take a moment after looking through the Home Depot advert and I spotted a 10ft. chainsaw pole... That's right... Shish-Ka-Don...

Still, even then, you have that Race Bannon bastard as Veep... Seriously... Here... Look...

What a douche. And he thinks you can electrocute the gay out of someone... and evolution is evil...

Anger is always the secondary emotion... Usually the manifestation from the hurt you are feeling... And when you get hurt... You want to know "just who the fuck made you hurt?"

The media has to take a nice heaping of blame for this debacle. Giving someone an estimated FOUR BILLION dollars in air time, because of your whore like addiction to ratings, is one of the key ingredients in this shit show.

I would also like to say "Privet, Tovarishch!" to all the Russian State sponsored propagators of propaganda! Russian heads of state are now coming forward and saying that they had meetings with the Trump campaign. Samantha Bee did a nice little piece about the Russian agents manipulating the election through social media outlets. As for her "sources"... They were THE RUSSIAN AGENTS themselves!!!

This brings up a new aspect to this election, that really rose to prominence... Media Gravitas... A political pundit, schooled in Political Science, been on the beltway for over a decade, and considered to be an expert, can write a wonderful piece for a publication, or website. It will say how much the world will just suck shit if Trump is elected...

And some pimply faced, goat fucker, sitting in his shit stained boxers can publish a fucking OPINION on a mocked up, completely fictional website, and as long as it "feels right" to the mouth breathers... It is given the same credence as the article in the previous paragraph.

Big blame to people not doing their own research... Only wanting to be spoon fed opinions... Bumper Sticker nuggets, easily digested and put into their repository of "debating points". "She's a criminal!". Right... So... She was not charged because why? Key word in that sentence is "charged". Clinton was never even CHARGED.

Could blame the DNC... They fucked my man Bernie squarely in the ass... Yeah, they knew what was "best" for the country. Actually, they were worried because for most of his career, the Berning Man had a nice "(I)" after his name... He would hold the DNC to task, as well as the RNC.

People who voted Third Party should take some heat. Some of the races were close that those votes could have made the difference between four years of continued prosperity and growth, and "Who the fuck knows if tomorrow will even fucking exist?"

Rachel Maddow, my not so secret man crush, said it so very wonderfully,

"If you vote for someone who can not win for President, it means you do not care who wins for President."

I voted. I cared. I hurt. I rage.

Bargining

If I believed in the notion of a soul, I doubt I would offer to sell it if we could get a do over on this election. Besides, it is well documented that I sold my soul to Jesus when I was seven or some shit... I was young and needed the Legos.

I think out of all the stages, this is the most deceptive to know whether you are out of it or not. Do you tell yourself that if you can go the whole day without picturing Trump supporters getting the "Inglorious Basterds" treatment on their foreheads, then you are good to go!

For those not familiar, that is where you take a large knife and carve a fucking swastika in their fucking forehead (This is a good case I might still be in the "Anger" phase). This way, if they are not in KKK robes, and not out screaming the n-word, or pulling women's hijabs, you can still just look at them and know them for the pieces of shit they are.

Now... Are all people who voted for Trump racist, xenophobic, misogynistic and homophobic pieces of shit??? NO.

Let me repeat that... NO. They are not.

HOWEVER... They supported and voted for Racism. They supported and voted for Xenophobia. They supported and voted for Misogyny. They supported and voted for Homophobia.

The KKKandidate showed his colors on the campaign trail.

I will concede that a subset of those who voted the way they did... Was because they felt that they have been ignored. Regardless of party, they have been neglected as candidates fly over and breeze on by. They reckon an outsider just might have their interests at heart. They literally feel that they have nothing left to lose... and they are not "incorrect". I just wish they did not include the rest of us in their vortex of suck.

If I had a soul, I would sell it to try and shelter these people. They will be the ones fucked the hardest by this colossal orange turd.

Depression

There are already sad, sad tidings of the upcoming administration's appointees. Ebell for the EPA is one of the biggest Climate Change Deniers there is... So, hope you like higher AC bills for longer periods of time... It is going to get hotter.

Dr. Ben Carson might be in charge of the Dept. of Education job. Napping will be allowed in science class and prayer will be mandatory?

I was saddened to see a post where teachers did not really know what to say to their students Wednesday morning... Instead of history being made and it being a celebration, there were students chanting "Build The Wall!" in a lunchroom...

It seems that the Trump tax strategy is that same as Brownback's in Kansas. I have plenty of friends in Kansas... and the word that bestdescribes that particular plan: fucking calamity. It was supposed to be the Republican alternative. It truly is an alternative... an alternative to economic prosperity and job growth.

I am sad that a legacy of a good presidency is in true jeopardy. Through this whole week, the President showed nothing but class, even nobility, in extending his hand, and his help, to the incoming administration.

Hopefully it rubbed off on Trump. THIS is how you are supposed to act in victory... AND defeat. Not like a vindictive, vile, petulant little grade school bitch.

Acceptance

I have accepted that there will be loses... We are looking at losing anything resembling a viable 4th Estate. The media will be running scared if Trump goes forward with his "Libal Law Reform"... Which is basically code for "PISSING ON FREE SPEECH" and "WIPING YOUR ASS WITH FREEDOM OF THE PRESS".

So far the only late night host who did not shit all over the Donald, was Jimmy Fallon... And he was essentially called a gutless coward for it... Jay Leno would be proud.

Affordable Care will be the first casua... Strangely enough, this Friday, Trump seemed to indicate that "modifications" would be coming, but seemed to recant the total gutting of Obamacare... So..,

I have also accepted there will be some gains...

The number of hate crimes will skyrocket. I saw numerous "Day One in Trump's America" posts. Swastikas painted on walls. "Deportation Notices", printed by some little miscreant, handed out in a high school. Stories of women's hijabs being pulled off...

I would like everyone to start calling them "Trump Crimes". Hashtag that shit. #trumpcrimes

Please, before you blindly go pasting stuff in your social media feeds... Snopes that shit!!! Make sure you are not furthering false accusations, and painting a false narrative. If you continuously post things that are later debunked, it becomes a whole "boy who cried wolf" narrative.

And that is precisely what they want. When the cries of the victims are no longer heard, or muted by all the other noise... The Trumpzi Nation will REALLY begin to go to work.

The bigots, racists, xenophobes, and homophones... They now have a "It's okay now" mentality.

If you do one thing or take one thing away from reading this...

If you see something happening to someone, and it is apparent it is motivated by race, religion, nationality, or sexual orientation... DO SOMETHING... PLEASE! Record it! Call the cops! DO NOT LET THEM ASSAULT ANOTHER HUMAN BEING IN FRONT OF YOU!

If you do nothing... You are just one of the "Good German People of the late 30's and early 40's".

I know acceptance is the last and hardest part of grieving... It helps to have an exact date in mind...

______________________________________

Trump will leave office. He will go back to his gold plated apartment in the building with his name on it. We will be the ones left holding the bill... Remember that.

I was tired after eight years of the Retarded Cowboy.Bush Jr... Hate is exhausting. I don't know if I have four more of it in me. But for you... Reader... I will do what I can.

I have spent this week in "Saving Pvt. Ryan" beach mode... Grainy, shaky, and shell shocked...

I have also been planning my next moves... Starting with this here blog... I know that at work I am going to be MORE PC... I will correct micro aggressions whenever and wherever I can... I will make their redneck arteries explode... I will speak out MORE against the Rapist Elect.

Telling me to "Accept the election" and "Stop protesting" is the surest way to make me do the exact opposite... I am the Captain. (TITLE MAKES SENSE NOW, DON'T IT?)

All circuits are busy, try back again,

d

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No Accountants Were Harmed

Money...

Some of my friends automatically went into the Pink Floyd tune, with "it's a gas" being a good following lyric.

If there is a commonality among the majority of humans on this planet, it's money. We all have to have it in order to procure provisions and shelter for our individual survival... And if you have enough of it, you will attract a mate for the propagation of the species... RIGHT ON, MASLOW!

In order to procure it, we have to do something of value to someone else who does want to do whatever it is or is incapable of performing the deed, and is willing to give you their money in order to do it. See... the definition of prostitution!

So, you work, you get money, you spend money. Rinse and repeat.

One trend emerging that causes concern, is that more than some of the millennial generation was simply given everything. So the whole "Working to get what you want" notion just does not appeal to them.

I always want to be there when the parents tell them "No, I will not get you a new <insert whatever bauble asked for here>, get it yourself", and see that look of "Whaaaaaa?" cross Tristan's face. It is as succulent as it is momentary, as they know the grandparents will indubitably cater to their whims.

I don't think balancing a checkbook, or doing household finances, is even a subject in schools anymore. I have been away from the education system long enough to have zero clue as to how they are NOT preparing kids for life these days. I just know they are not.

It took me a while after high school to get a handle on the whole "paying bills" and shit. If memory serves from almost 24 years ago, in Augusta, KS., if you got the BLUE notice that your water was going to be shut off, you HAD to pay the bill... The white, green and yellow notices were just for "FYI".

I also had the whole "being married" thing working for (and against) me. X1 (first ex wife) did the household finances and, by all accounts (PUN!), she did a good job. I was in the USAF, she worked three jobs at one time, and paid dem bills, yo.

After the divorce, I was living on McChord AFB, and pretty much had zero bills... I also was 24 and learning to laundry for the first time... Lots of growth, and growth is nothing if not painful. Food and shelter? Check. Female companionship? I was really cute then... so CHECK! My main expenditure was alcohol.

X2 also took care of the finances. For a while. When the Ambien binges pretty much rendered her "loopy as fuck all", I had to take over. I think seeing how much she was spending each month on Ambien was one of the final straws that led to our going our separate ways. Well... not right away... she made hella good money. Lesson #42 of Dougie's Financial Power System: Sugar Mamas/Daddies are SWEET! Get one!

Internet bill paying was a new thing at the time, but I still did the handwritten checks. By writing out the totals, it really, really made you understand where the money was going. It kinda caused pain to write out the mortgage check. This is how I know that "Thousand" is the first number to have the letter "a" in it... and in the rules of grammar, 1,000 and above is when you should use numbers vs. writing out "nine hundred, ninety nine".

X3 was a financial guru and a bad ass with money. Of course, her kids were never without, and I always felt broke... Funny how that shit happens. I think it was 2014 when I finally paid off ballet lessons. When we decided to split, she laid out all the financial plannings and accounts and bills. I was thankful as hell, because I had been out of practice.

Since being single, I have a super anal retentive grasp of my finances. I have a spreadsheet, called "Finances". I know... Creative, right?  It has a "Progress" tab, where it shows every check since October of 2012, and prognosticating out to February of 2019.

I know I get two checks every month, called Phase 1 and Phase 2. I get paid every other Friday, so there are two months every year when a third check comes into play. I call that one "Mod A". There are also "Taxes", and "Xmas". The municipality I work for does what they call a "Seasonal Cost of Living Adjustment" to coincide with the first full week in December... so... "Xmas" it is...

On the second sheet of this budget spreadsheet is a breakdown of the next couple of checks. I plug in the my check amount, and then I math the shit out of each of the bills I know I will pay in that "phase".


The check marks denote known totals, and the question mark denotes unknown. It keeps my OCD Demons at bay and takes out the surprises out of payday. The Reliant bill was a question mark until Tuesday... Then I got the bill... Plugged in the total and voila! Financial Peace Of Mind.

It only took me twenty years of adulthood to get a grip on finances... And I still consult Mom and Dad on big financial maneuverings because they, COMBINED, are wicked smart financially.

I ask the folks, Mom and Dad, how they do it... figuring that after FIFTY ONE years of marriage, they would be so solid and on the same... "Your mother does it all wrong!", and "He has his way and I have the way that works!", is what I got.

Of course, they do that thing where they round up all expenditures, and round down all inflows of moolah. That makes my skin crawl. If asked, I can tell you, down the PENNY, what my balances are. Mainly because I work it so there are NO CENTS on my accounts. Nice, rounded off dollars, thank you. Again, OCD Demons.

Regardless if you are in the camp of "Get Bill, Pay Bill Immediately" (Dad Method), or the "Wait 'Til It Is Due, or They Sneak In An Extra Bill" Camp (Mom School), you need a budget. Setting financial goals is not a bad idea either.

And while I am "comfortable", I, like a GREAT MANY of us, find myself remarking, "If I only had <insert total here> bucks extra... I could really get ahead!!!" It just seems like there is never enough.

I really have one credit card I use. It is called "Life". Whenever "life happens", it goes on the card. I also put romantic dates on the card, because they happen with such fucking rarity, it will be paid off in the time between them...

"Life" is the damn dog's grooming or vet shit... "Life" is when you need a new crown... "Life" is when ROGER WATERS is coming to town! C'MON! He is the one singing in the aforementioned
Pink Floyd song, "Money"!!! "Life" is when all your supplements and vitamins run out at the same time. That shit ain't cheap. "Life" is a speeding ticket. "Life" is going to a four day rager with your peeps, and it is worth it, because that IS life.

When that card gets a little out of control... I focus on it a bit, get it back down to manageable levels.

So... The point, you ask?

Money is not the root of all evil. It is nothing more than a tool.

Think of money as a hammer. Bills, groceries, expenditures... Those are nails.

If you use the tool correctly, you can build something. Solid and secure.

Use the tool incorrectly, you will be bleeding, and be cursing a lot.

______________________________________

Xmas is coming up... Less than fifty days. Yeah... let that sink in. Money is about to get super tight in households across the land as couples buy their little shit-spawn assloads of new and shiny battery wasters, and forego getting themselves anything. 

Incidentally, most marriages, that cease being marriages, cite "Money/Finances" as the top stress on the relationship. 

It always seems as there is never enough and, in my opinion, that you can "outlive" any budget... And if you are in your 20's... Have fun, dammit!!! Your 30's is when you work all the time to pay off your 20's... Your 40's are when you work so you can enjoy your 50's and 60's... After that... Well, you are just happy to not to be shitting yourself.

14 years, 11 months, 27 days until I retire, and then I start smoking weed again.

I know the Devil's looking up at me,

d

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It's About Time

"It's about time". 

I heard that phrase this week. The connotation was that some other entity was not operating at the desired speed the Boss expected. She needed something and someone was not delivering. Upon it's completion, her remark was one of exasperation and disdain. I was ecstatic that I was not the focus of her ire. 

Everyone is operating on their own timeline. Point A to Point B. Origin to Termination. Alpha to Omega. That line that connects those two points? Called "time".

Back in the day, due to the plethora of cuckoos in the world, the Swiss decided to measure that ethereal entity. So, they made clocks... And I personally hate them for it.

My dog can not tell time. Her only concept of time is that it was "an eternity" since she last ate. That is the only measurement of time she is concerned with. She has a "schedule" and it is something you could set your watch to. She knows within a 10 minute period of when she gets fed... It's almost spooky.

 

People are on their own timelines... AND they are travelling that timeline at their own velocity... My proof of this theory is thus... When you are running a little late for work, and you hit the road... EVERYONE ELSE IS NOT LATE and they drive accordingly. Slow as shit and directly in your way. Now, it could be a plot to make you MORE late, but that would take a metric fuck tonne of logistics that I do not accredit humans.

Yet another example is the one my Boss was involved in this week, that led to the utterance of the phrase that stuck in my craw. When you have to interact with other humans, when your "paths cross", it could be interpreted as the two "streams of time" have crossed.

As a once brilliant, fictional theoretical physicist once posited, "Crossing the streams would be bad." Egon ("Ghostbusters", 1984, not that shitty remake!) touched on something there... I interact with some people, like, say, Trump supporters, and "try to imagine all life as you know it stopping instantaneously and every molecule of your body exploding at the speed of light." 

When you choose to interact with someone, or you are FORCED to interact with someone, you are crossing the streams. Sometimes it is bad... You get the the "total protonic reversal"... Other times, you banish Gozer the Gozarian, in the form of the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man, to a parallel dimension (It's a good thing).

Thinking of time as a "stream" is saturated with symbolism and imagery. I know my Mom, at the moment of reading this will think of the sappy as shit Garth Brooks song "The River", that she asked me incessantly to listen to... At a time when I exclusively listened to everything BUT that song. Mmmm, taste that? SPITE!

"Two ships passing in the night"... Hmmm... Could be a stream/timeline crossing analogy to be drawn there! Also, it was a way old people could talk about a one night stand in old timey songs.

I examine my own timeline, and look at the numerous ways I could measure it... Marriages, Presidencies, World Cups to name a few... And I think of the other timelines that I have interacted with... Some, a single, intersecting point, some lasting a more substantial period, and the timelines that have always been there...

I visualize the lines... intersecting... merging... diverting... Watching them intersect with other timelines... Then there is a party and it is one big ass, shared timeline.

The timelines I try not to think about are the ones that I know will end. The logical, rational part of my brain understands that ALL timelines end... Them's the breaks. No one gets out of here alive... 

The selfish, non-logical part of my brain knows that it is just going to fucking suck and I don't have to accept it. Until I do.

I guess in the end... Choose wisely those who you decide to cross streams with. It is not about what they can do for you or how you can help them. It is not about whether they make you happy or sad...

It's about time.

_____________________________________

If there is one thing people usually wish for more of, it's more time. That and oral sex... 

I have spent my solo timeline, for the last year or so, making it so that when I DO decide to cross the stream of someone special... It will not be a momentary intersection... I would like to be a lengthy endeavor. I feel I am at a pretty damn good place in my life. The one component that I think is missing is someone to share it with.

And, yes, I am fully aware my Mom just read that and agreed. As she would say, 

"It's about time."

For whom the bell tolls,

d

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And as a special bonus...

No One Remembers Bockscar

The most destructive part of an atomic bomb is the initial shock wave and blast radius... The cruelest, more widespread, and longest lasting part is the radioactive particle cloud that is generated from the detonation.

An atomic bomb is usually an "air implosion device". It explodes about 50 to 100 yards above the ground. The blast wave is so extreme, the air itself is scorched and expelled outward with great force. When the air comes rushing back in, due to the vacuum left by the shock wave, the dirt and ash of incinerated bodies,is pulled back in, along with the air. It is then shot upward in a volley of fire and energy. That dust, dirt, soot, and ash... all radioactive. All damaging and detrimental.

This is the mushroom cloud. One of the most indelible icons there is to convey death and destruction. (Hey kiddies... for some time/population killing fun at work, CLICK HERE!!!)

The people atomized in the initial blast... They are the lucky ones. Their suffering is over. They no longer are subject to the horror yet to come.

So... This election...

Whichever way it turns out, there will be the shock wave. Once the winner is declared, a large number of people will die, in a political sense. They will shut down and just cease to exist on the political plane.

The rest of us, who can't just flick that switch... Who actually give a shit about issues and follow the happenings will be mired in the radioactive fallout. Our death will be slow... It will be painful.

The next four years will see AT LEAST one Justice of the Supreme Court nominated by the new President. If one candidate wins, they will probably select Garland. If Republicans still control anything, they will still say that we should wait... Let the American people "have a say"... You know, the SAME BULLSHIT ARGUMENT that has left the court lopsided for the last 8 months.

If the other candidate wins, we could very well see Judge Judy nominated.

The next four years will include a decision to be made about Syria. Syria is the 1,000 piece puzzle of the Beatles "White Album" cover. If any person reading this has a REAL and VIABLE solution of how to deal with Syria, NOW would be a really great time to speak up. I know if one candidate wins, there will be strategy meetings upon strategy meetings. Going over logistical permutations and predictions on a myriad action plans.

If the other candidate wins, it will be a non issue because they have vowed to dedicate the first 100 days to suing all the people accusing them of sexual assault.  

The next four years will be socially tumultuous if something about the law enforcement communities disregard for due process (and meriting out a death sentence for non violent offenses that are not even felonies) is not done... Or even addressed. If one candidate wins, there are plans to address more than one issue. Racial Bias, Criminal Justice Reform, RAMPANT Military and Campus Sexual Assault, and Gun Violence Protection, to name a few.

If the other candidate wins... "Law & Order". That is all we have received. Well... are we talking "Criminal Intent"? "S.V.U."? How about "Los Angeles"? or "Trial By Jury"??? Seriously??? 

The next four years might just see MORE effects of the "hoax" of climate change emerge. I mean besides the crippling California drought... And the increased number and ferocity of hurricanes and other severe weather patterns... And the collapse of entire ecosystems like bee colonies and the Great Barrier Reef... And the erosion of polar ice sheaths at an unprecedented rate... Do I really need to continue? One candidate accepts the findings of 97% of scientists who agree wholeheartedly that climate change is real and human interference is a major contributing factor.

The other candidate is of the mindset that "Gy-nah" is perpetrating a ruse on everyone...  It will be free reign for the corporations that have made their fortunes by making the ground, water and air unusable, undrinkable, and unbreathable.

Four years... A lot of issues and things that will impact this country that I loved enough to dress up in camouflage will have to be dealt with.

I am not trying to convince anyone what is the right way to vote. You have your mind made up. I know most reading this, will be voting against a certain candidate. I know this because this blog is longer than a bumper sticker and not as pandering as a segment of Fox "News".

Wait... I guess I am trying to convince people. I do so because I DO love this country and if one candidate gets in, the possibility that I could get sued or imprisoned for writing things against him, becomes real.

Don't vote for Trump.

_______________________________________

Tomorrow, early voting opens in Texas. I am very thankful that by Wednesday, I should have done my civic duty. 

I am awaiting the inevitable lunch room conversations at work.. 

"Dougie! Didja vote?"

"Of course."

"Who'd ya vote for?"

"That, good Sir, is none of your business, thank you, oh so mucking fuch."

"All right, fine"

"Fine... You wanna know how I voted?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Correctly. And I hope he loses."

Hanging chad, 

d

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Casper, I Ain't

I think I am not going on dates as of late because of the phenomenon known as "Ghosting" (Yeah... THAT's the reason!). Old, married people, be thankful you are getting to skip on this latest trend.

Ghosting is where if the person who you went on a date with just isn't feeling it, they don't let you know any reasons as to why, or if they had a good time, or they were still hung up on their old boyfriend and just weren't as ready to date as they thought they were. Nothing... They just vanish.

On the rare, rare occasion I do pursue someone romantically, there is now a more than good chance that there will be a shift to the ethereal and intangible, usually associated with something dead...

What drives this course of action? Is it cowardice? Apathy in effect?

Best case... The person doing the ghosting understands that rejection is a big ball of shit to hit someone with. So, in the effort not to be a dick/bitch, they go the route of fading away and becoming uncommunicative. See? They did not stomp on your guts... They did not point out all your faults... They didn't lead you on... Nope. Like a ship in the night, they just sailed on.

Comedian Aziz Ansari, in his brilliant book about modern romance, mysteriously titled, "Modern Romance", talks about the practice of ghosting. In his up routine, he would ask the audience/research groups about how they would like to be told that there is no interest by the other party.

A) Be told up front. Honest and Direct.
B) Go on a few more dates and end things before it get's too serious.
C) Never hear from that person again and all attempts at contact are ignored.

The crowd overwhelming and emphatically indicated that "A" is how they would like to be dealt with. "We're adults, dammit! We can handle it."

Then he would ask the same crowd how they handle it when THEY have no interest in the other party, do they:

A) Tell them upfront and directly that there is no interest?
B) Lead them on for a bit... Delaying the inevitable?
C) Ghost them like a mother fucker?

The SAME crowd would resoundingly pick "C" as their go to method for ending a budding romance.

Ladies, Gents, Others... I give you the definition of hypocrisy.

I was in a group/forum and someone brought up this topic. I equated it to a band aid. If you tell someone, "Not interested", it is like ripping off a band aid... with a Robin Williams level of hairiness.

Getting ghosted leaves questions. "What did I say?",  "What did I do wrong?", or, in my case, "HOW did I offend?" So many ways for me to do so, I just want some idea of exactly how I offended you. I
am not really giving a damn that you ARE offended, just wondering WHICH button I pushed.

One can not be "Angry" at the Ghosters of the world... In the end, they don't owe you shit. There was no contract or statute dictating that further communication was guaranteed. Even if you ended the date with "I will talk to you later" and they said "Look forward to it."

Having been ghosted, you can be puzzled and disappointed... But not angry. Consider the fact that they did you a favor and showed you the merit of their character early on.

I don't think I have ever fully, and truly ghosted someone... If able, I always answer the phone, or reply to a text. The manor in which I reply will convey, quite succinctly, my feelings towards said person. They will be left with little ambiguity as to my feelings towards them.

Ghosting just goes into the myriad games played in the beginning stages of any modern relationship. Now it is "Call vs. texting?", "Showing too much interest vs. not showing enough", "Who cares least wins", "Who pays for what?", "How many dates before we make with the nudity?"... All games.

I know that it is not their sole province, but ghosting is much more prevalent in the youth. I guess the only thing easier to brush someone off on your phone is not to brush at all...

____________________________________

Took last weekend off. I just needed to not do anything. Veg. I am getting election coverage overload. It has only been going on for two fucking years. Thankfully, it is almost over.

Also, Trump is turning out to be an even bigger piece of shit than thought... and I thought he was a colossal piece of shit anyway... The even SADDER fact is that his supporters STILL will not see that they are... just... wrong...

Ugh... anyways... Ghosting is bad, mmmkay?

Who ya gonna call?

d

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Not Tall & Not Sour

Not in a long diatribe mood... So... Think of this as my gift to you... I give you TIME! You don't have to mire yourself in my weird, prolonged mind vomiting.

First... Clinton won the debate. Granted, when going a petulant little shit like King Oompa Loompa, she would basically have to piss herself, while picking her nose, and singing "Walking My Cat Named Dog" by Norma Tanega to lose it.

Also... President Obama was right to veto the "JASTA" or "9/11" Bill. It serves no purpose but to weaken our standing with already tenuous allies in that region. It puts our supposedly beloved by everyone troops at more risk. The Senate overrode the veto... and the NEXT DAY was in "Oh shit!" mode.

"Luke Cage" on Netflix is the primary reason for the shortened time allotted for blogging... Really well done. ALL of Marvel's Netflix presence is really, really well done.

Lastly... I would just like to proclaim that "boneless chicken wings" are FUCKING CHICKEN NUGGETS pre-jizzed on. Gussy it up however ya want... it ain't anything new.

_______________________________

See... All that time saved. I am still of the mindset that 90% of the news in 2016 has been shitty. I hope that last little nugget (SEE WHAT I DID THERE???) put a smile on your face... if not....

I can only tell you that election coverage is only going to last 36 more days...  But then, we will (hopefully) only have to hear about how it was rigged and she cheated.

Hug the kids and spank the wife,

d

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"We Have To Make These."

The title is reference to a fuzzy afternoon in Augusta, KS. in May of 1987, on Custer Lane, in [Name Redacted]'s barn. A group of young people, were stoned to the beejuzus, laughing to tears at his blind cat ("Meow?" - Yes, you could hear the question mark.). We had just discovered a box of microwaveable pancakes.

Marijuana. Cannabis. Weed. Dope... and myriad monikers that would only show whenabouts I stopped keeping track of that shit.

The first question is... How in the name of fuck is this stuff not legal??? I mean just look to the disasters in Colorado, Oregon, and Washington - STATE AND D.C..... Wait... What? They are doing fan-bloody-tastic after legalizing??? Hmmmmmmm.

The biggest argument by stupid people, who only believe what authority figures planted in their heads when they were younger, is that marijuana is a "Gateway Drug".

I will go so far as to cede that by smoking weed, you are probably more likely to come into contact with people who also procure and distribute other illegal substances. That is about it. If your kid is going to do "Drug Next Step", it is because a friend had some, knew your kid had some money, offered them some in order to get them hooked, so they will spend money on "Drug Next Step" and share with them.

The case for marijuana being a gateway drug is the same as when politicians tried to stop equal rights by asking what was after legalizing same sex marriage. "If we allow that... what's next? Will we allow people to marry their pets?" Same sex marriage was a "Gateway Marriage".

The first recorded usage of cannabis was by the Synthians in 440 BC. They would use it in their baths, like a sauna... The ORIGINAL Hot Boxers*!

The word canvas... derived from cannabis. The sails on all the ships that brought everyone's ancestors to America? Yup... Hemp.

Hemp was huge... and was going to get even more prolific. Then came the war between agriculture and industry... And if memory serves, we don't learn about he "Agricultural Revolution" in school.

Easiest way to win a war? Outlaw the thing you are warring against. Just make it illegal. Spend money making propaganda films. Films that portray anyone who uses the stuff as a deviant, perverted sort who wants to barbecue babies because they are stoned!

I have known some pretty stoned individuals, and not once was BBQ'd infant discussed. BBQ Pringles however? Devoured in droves.

All that manipulation and distortion of the facts led to the War on Drugs. Nancy Reagan telling everyone to "Just Say No." Which led Ronald Reagan to question, "To What? Who are you? What is my name?" (Too soon?)

Granted, at the time (the early and mid 80's), c0ocaine was rampant. Mostly on Wall Street... and Motley Crue. Of course, the feds, in their infinite wisdom, decided to war against ALL drugs. *Spoiler Alert* The U.S. lost this war. In fact... Many people believe that the CIA was responsible for flooding inner city neighborhoods with crack cocaine... So...

By focusing on, and apparently supporting, the supply, they did absolutely fuck all to squash the demand side of the equation.

"Gee, we have done nothing to improve living conditions, bolster employment opportunities, lessen the rising cost of living... Why would all these people look to something to make life a little more pleasurable without breaking the bank, with no real addictive side effects??? WHY????"

Incarceration rates for non violent offenses skyrocketed, which made the true deviants come up with the Prisons For Profit scheme.

Also, if you could make it a felony, and target minorities... They can't vote! Double points!

The enemy for the legalization of cannabis these days is a two headed snake of the Federal Government and Big Pharma.

The government, namely the Republicans, will not legalize it because then the prison profits will go to shit... More minorities will retain the right to vote... Can't have that!

Here is one good thing about the government speed bump... The "50's guy" Politician... Those who grew up in "Leave It To Beaver" land... They are a dying breed. There will be changes when people who grew up a little later get elected. I say that with hope... but not certainty.

Big Pharma does NOT want weed to become legal. It would cut into their BILLIONS of dollars of yearly profits... and sweet Jeebus... How can you ask them to only get by on a couple of BILLION dollars less??? You selfish prick!

In August, the DEA denied the reclassification of Cannabis. It remains a Schedule I drug. Schedule I drugs have NO MEDICAL USE and high potential for abuse.

Mmmkay, Pum'kin... Let's play that lame ass card... Considering that Ritalin, Adderall, OXY-FUCKING-CODONE , and Fentanyl (the one that killed Prince) are Schedule II... Those are primarily manufactured by six pharmaceutical companies, whose net worth is in the trillions.

How much does the DEA cost these days? Do you have to buy just the director? Couple of politicians to boot? Do you get a discount if you buy in bulk? When elections come up, do you compare prices? Whoever comes in with the lowest bribe amount, do you contribute to their campaign?

The benefits of hemp... WAAAAAAAY too many to list here. Seriously, Google that shit. More specifically... Google "Benefits of industrial hemp". There are literally millions of hits off that search. In two seconds, I learned that in 1938, Popular Mechanics magazine called hemp, "The Billion Dollar Crop."

Which made the other robber barons of the time clench their collective sphincters... Hence the propaganda... and inevitable, unwinnable war.

Second huge benefit of marijuana use... All the really good music.,. Thanks, Drugs!

_______________________________________

The last time I was stoned, was 1993. I remember it fondly. I remember the smallest details of that night. I remember laughing to the point of tears... It was a good night... The last song that I smoked to was Pink Floyd's "Run Like Hell". 

I have a lot of friends who partake. I am jealous as hell. They are completely functioning humans who get to enjoy the extra benefits of mother nature... Although, while usually running a little late because they forgot something... They tend not to "rush"... And I think they are a lot happier for that fact. 

I miss it. It is about 5:20 PM. In about 90 minutes, I will pour myself a Lemmy (Jack & Coke, renamed in his honor). I will have more than one, less than five. I will be in a state of inebriation that is perfectly legal. Also, I will be taxing my liver, kidneys, and heart. Cokes are not healthy for you. Jack, while being my hetero life mate, is not the healthiest for you either.

If given the option, I would get high. I would reach a nice calm, tranquil state of mind. I would sleep better. I would not be in any way hungover in the morning. I would have not felt the need to make any rash decisions. I might crave some Doritos... watch "30 Rock"... Listen to some vinyl... Just chill.

Rainy Day Woman 12 & 35,

d 

This blog brought to you by Wolfmother, Tesla, Jimi Hendrix Experience, Daft Punk, The Doobie Brothers (It's in their damn name! C'MON!), Deftones, Slipknot, Iggy & The Stooges, Led Zeppelin, The Who, Stone Temple Pilots, Nirvana, David Bowie, Tool, Anthrax, The Blues Brothers, The Kinks, Prince & The Revolution, Lords of Acid, Metallica, and Pink Floyd.

* - Hot Boxing is smoking a shit tonne of weed in an enclosed area... Think Spicoli's van, in "Fast Times At Ridgemont High" and they open the doors and a massive cloud billows forth...

Hemingway, or "What's In A Name?"

Ernie once said, "Write drunk, edit sober."

Giving that a whirl.

First and foremost, I am not "drunk". Would I like to operate a motor vehicle at the moment? Not really... So... Here I am... On a Sat. night, with an empty bottle of mead... Eyeballin' the Jack Daniels...

Anywhoozle... I was scrolling through the ol' Facebook, wasting time until I can go to sleep. Which, in and of itself, makes me start to want to kick my own ass. It is Saturday. I should do something. Be out until the wee hours of the morning, raising Hell. I have no one to answer to... No commitments... Aaaaaaand no desire to waste money. So, here I am.

I succumb to the click-bait of a 12 year old contestant on a talent show. One of the plethora that television is inundated with these days.

I suffer through the cheese reel preceding the performance. She starts to sing. The timidity in her voice, coupled with her accented delivery... Quite intriguing. Then there are the lyrics. THEY are responsible for the lump in the throat. They are the perpetrator of my teary eyes.

I don't know my name.

I don't play by the rules of the game.

So you said I'm just trying.

Just trying.

Fuck. I remember being that age. The one thing that resonates from that age is the unrelenting uncertainty. It is the crucible time... Where YOU... THE YOU THAT YOU WILL BE... is thrust into a furnace of hormones, NAY - RAGING hormones, growth - both physically and emotionally, experiences undreamt of (autocorrect says that should be 'undreamed', but 'undreamt' sounds fucking better!), and trials and tribulations that are yours and YOURS ALONE! They are what make you YOU.

At that age, the "rules of the game" are introduced... Subject to change - from moment to moment... Your head is a fucking jumble of 1) What you are supposed to know, 2) What you THINK you know (which is estimated waaaaaaaaaay high), and 3) What you WANT to know. 

A friend's father, one Jack Thomas, once told me and his offspring, "I wish I could buy you for what you are worth... And sell you for what you THINK you are worth. You two think you are hot shit on a silver platter, and you ain't nothing but cold snot on a paper plate."

Father of the Year, he wasn't. But he did have a point.

That last two lines of the lyrics... Just trying... For fuck's sake... "Just trying" never stops. Yes, as an alpha geek, I understand and do my best to adhere to the Yoda-ism, "Do or Do Not, There is No Try." However, I ain't no Jedi.

Hopefully as you get older, sometimes wiser, you see a shift in the whole "trying vs. doing". You learn and grow... But as a youngling... There is a whole mess of "trying" going on.

The next lyrics of note from this TWELVE YEAR OLD...

I am lost.

Trying to get found.

In an ocean of people.

Please don't ask me any questions.

There won't be a valid answer.

Fuck. When you were twelve or thirteen, if you never felt lost... Well, bully for you. You are the exception. "What's my place?" "What am I supposed to be?" "WHO am I supposed to be?" Fun fact... That sorta "un-anchored" feeling... It rears up now and again.  

She fucking nails it with the last two lines. Go ahead... ask away...

My 7th grade guidance counselor asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up. My reply, of course, was "Viking." She then asked what my parents thought of my desired vocation. I told her, "They are aliens, so... They are not concerned."

When I was at that so impressionable age, pop culture kinda had a "It Get's Better" movement for kids, gay and straight.

What we had was Happy Harry Hard On...

If you watched to the end of the clip, kudos... One of the better messages from the movie was towards the end... (After Samantha Mathis, in her prime, gets topless)... And I quoteth...

"But just remember one thing, it can't get any worse, it can only get better. I mean High School is the bottom. Being a teenager sucks! But that's the point, surviving it is the whole point! Quitting is not going to make you strong, living will. So just hang on and hang in there." - HHH.

And that leads me to the last lyrics from one Grace VanderWaal, from the song "I Don't Know My Name".

I now know my name.

I don't play by the rules of the game.

So you said I'm not trying.

But I'm trying.

To find my way.

Jeeeeeez this kid's got some insight. NIAGRA FUCKING FALLS in this joint! 

I think it was in my seventeenth circuit around our star that I REALLY introduced myself to someone... and meant it. It was in a hallway on the second story of the B-1 Bomber simulator building on McConnell AFB, Wichita KS.

I was visiting my Dad. He had to run some paper work upstairs. I followed and waited in the hallway. A Captain, if memory serves, came out of the door Dad just entered and saw little ol' me. Back from my graduation tour of California. Sporting a mohawk mullet configuration... cut up denim shorts... and tank top, representing the "Viper" roller coaster from Six Flags Magic Mountain.

He justifiably wanted to know "Who the hell are you?"

I remember KNOWING the answer as I stuck out my hand and introduced myself.

I knew my name.

______________________________

Again, the last two lines... They are universal. We are all just trying to find our way. The world is rife with people doing just that. The problems usually arise when you to find someone else's way for them, or they try to tell you yours.

I know the power in a name. And yes, there is power in a name. The power can be a form of control... Ancient priests believed if you knew a demon's TRUE name upon summoning, you could control said beast from the Abyss, and make it answer your questions, and do your bidding.

If you do NOT believe in the power of a name... Close your eyes... Will make this next part difficult to read, but you GET THE POINT... Do you remember that person you saw in passing, but never got to talk to, that just knocked you for a loop and stole your very breath? It could have been for the briefest of moments from your youth... But the vision of them... That moment, that glimpse, is so very seared... So...  fucking part of you... Envision THAT person for me...

Now... wouldn't you like to know their name?

Talk hard,

d

This blog brought to you by Dig, KISS, Ozzy Osbourne, Heart, Dante & Randall, Johnny Cash, Anthrax, Ray charles, The Beatles, Weezer, The Rolling Stones, Korn, Don McLean, Foo Fighters, The Black Crowes, Queen, Toadies,  and Barry Fuckin' White.

(Forgot the 'Edit Sober' part! Cheers!)

The Day After

Wednesday, September 12th, 2001...

Boxers will say, right after a fight, that they weren't hurt. Their opponent never got to them or caused them any distress. At that moment, they are in a state of shock. A day later though...

You may never have boxed a day in your life, but when you woke up on the day after, you felt like you had gone into the deep rounds. You felt punched. You felt wounded. You felt beat.

There was no precedent of how to react... No rule book...  It was just under six decades since we had been "attacked".

On that morning after... I was told not to come into work in Dallas. My now second ex wife was told to not to come into work in a skyscraper in downtown Dallas. Her parents were staying with us in Cedar Hill, TX. We watched the news. That is what we all did. Every station - EVERY STATION - was news.

I would go outside to smoke and was unnerved by the silent skies. Devoid of air traffic.

Yesterday, I watched a tribute before turning off the TV. There were fly overs at the majority of football games. I saw our President speak to the unifying nature of the tragedy.

Unity... in this country? It took the deaths of 2996 people to "unite" us.

How long did it last? Four years? Two years?

I no longer scoff when I hear a mouth breather grunt, "Murica!" Because the title "United States Of America" is not an entirely true title. People will point fingers and say This or That person has polarized us. I think the polarization started on September 12, 2001.

My personal opinion is Cheney's dick got so hard, at the prospect of snatching oil and construction contracts for Haliburton, he had to be careful not to blow out his "heart", or reasonable facsimile of what we humans call a heart, that pumps his unholy blood.

Cooler heads voted against the inevitable calls for war... Namely our current President, and a one time candidate who would have been an even stronger nominee than whatshername...

I think to all the speeches from President Retarded Cowboy, aka War Criminal. Every year, he would mention the tragedy. Every year, he would state why we spending billions in a war with a country, later to shown to have NOTHING to do with 9/11...

I also remember thinking, this is why I don't want a religious president. They put stock in make believe bullshit, as long as it makes them right, and justifies their belief in the bullshit.

People will always remember 9/11/2001. Politicians have made careers out of it. I remember a crispness in the morning air. A bagel from the Tom Thumb on Northwest Highway. Howard Stern doing what I thought was a radio bit...

And going into an empty office... Then finding everyone huddled around a TV in the conference room. It took about an hour for them to send us home.

It was a terrible, terrible day. I think it hurt more on the 12th, because we realized it wasn't a nightmare we could wake up from.

_______________________

9/11, for incoming high school Freshman is a history lesson. It happened before a lot of them were born. They have grown up not knowing of a world where that did not happen.

They also only know of an America perpetually at war. They have grown up being told that a good portion of the world hates us.

Fifteen years, and the shadow of that day still looms. We were altered that day. Forever.

Oh... and here is a site that lists all the members of Congress who voted AGAINST the First Responders or "Zadroga" Bill. Just a little something to help you vote this November.

The music wouldn't play,

d

Contemplation of a Possibilty

So, I find the place... One bar seems to blend into another after a while. Did it have tables? Check? A long horizontal plane in which one can sit and order drinks? Check. A bar...

I find a table, and am just settling in and she walks in. If I were a weaker man, I would be leveled. We go through the awkwardness of handshake vs. hug... 

When we are both seated, it begins... The small talk. I am amazed, and captivated by the ease of it. It does not seem forced. It also does not seem rote or old hat. The waitress takes our orders, and I am so enthralled with the woman sitting across from me, I could not tell you if the waitress had a third breast on her forehead.

Her face... it is an amalgamation of features that I have find attractive. It is as if her eyes change colors with her smile, or a furrowed brow.

Normally, if I am this attracted to a date, I find it slightly difficult to focus on the topics of conversation. Not this night, however. I am hanging on her every word. I am also taken aback by the fact that I am not just waiting for my turn to talk, but actually listening to her.

I have been known to nervously blather on, during an initial date... But I am totally at ease... Comfortable. I remark to her about this fact, and she agrees. We are now aware of the ease at which we converse. While acknowledging an ease like that can make it evaporate just as quickly... it doesn't tonight... It increases it... 

In the first five minutes, she broke the "fuck" barrier. I always let the lady curse first... That way I know whether or not she is offended by such language... I appreciate her not making me wait too fucking long.

In the course of discourse, one of us makes a joke... Something witty and clever, that the other one then plays off of... Before we know it, we have our own little private joke, that we both know will be a favorite story of ours - in our possible future.

The atmosphere is perfect, the background noise is a droning hustle and bustle one associates with a bar. There is music... We each, at different moments, pick the song out of the air and comment on the story behind our adoration of it.

I am not upset when we get into a rather heated debate... I forget the topic... I just know that I am not angry or mad that she "challenges" my thinking on it... I am forced to reevaluate my position. Normally, if I am challenged, the person is just a colossal fucktard, and I move on. Nope... She has made a solid argument, and I must admit to her having an actual point. Shit.

As the second round of drinks magically appear, I can't help but feel the liquid courage doing it's job. The conversation becomes charged with innuendo. I get a smile from her that would make Satan himself say "I need to learn how to smile like THAT..."

We both want and don't want to lead the conversation down that path. We both get the feeling that this is the beginning of something, not "special", but "more"... and now comes the "don't jinx it" by talking about this or that... A little wink wink nudge nudge...

She gets up to use the ladies room, and I am more than happy to watch as she walks away. As the artist Robert Williams once said, "A woman's ass is more beautiful than the Orion Nebula..." Well, here's me - sans telescope, but I am a believer, and share that opinion.

She comes back, and sits down... I feel a little out of sorts... Two drinks? Really? Why am I having trouble concentrating?

She sits down, looks me directly in eyes, and says, "I could feel your eyes on me a*meh*s I walked away. I just wanted you to *meh meh* that I really d*meh meh meh*idn't mind... Do you want to go back to your pl*meh meh meh meh meh*"

This is when I realize my alarm is going off and I wake up...

_______________________________________

I ran this idea by my editor in chief, previewer of content, also known as "Mom"... She warned me not to make it too specific as it could scare off any potential dates... 

I informed her that I would most definitely include the clause stating that while this is a "dream scenario", I am well aware that there would be no side of the table providing "perfection".

A first date is awkward. A first date is akin to a job interview... You dread it, but it is never as bad as you think it will be, and you usually come away knowing one way or the other how you did. You also go over every question and answer... Trying to see where you might have opened ass, inserted head.

Funny story... In the middle of writing this blog... I received a phone call and after some brilliant conversation (1 hour, 42 minutes worth), I actually have a date... I realize that this person has a choice of what she wants to do with her free time, and she has chosen it to spend some of it with me. That is pretty cool, and I AM contemplating a myriad of possibilities. Universe got jokes, yo.

But I'm gonna wave my freak flag high, high,

d

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