Knock Knock

There has been a lot of hullabaloo in the press over some "laws" concerning the "T" part of the LGBT community.

The push for these laws is coming from the non-left part of the two party system. I say "Non-Left" because they sure as fuck aren't right.

North Carolina was the one you heard probably heard about the most. What that state did is declare open season on anything the small minded governing officials find "unusual"... Any and all protections from discrimination a person not fitting into what they declare "normal", are gone.

It is also known as the "Bathroom Bill" because it says that you have to use the bathroom of the gender you were assigned on your birth certificate.

And we all know anything to do with birth certificates gives the Non-Left wingers a raging hard on...

Mississippi has even more draconian measures denying rights and services (adoption, rental space, employment) to people based on their gender identity not matching what THEY think it SHOULD be.

Those words were capitalized on purpose... Not a "Caps Lock" issue...

Kansas... Oh, poor, fucked up Kansas... There was talk floating around of them offering a "bounty" to anyone reporting on a transgender person using the facilities not of their "assigned" gender.

Kansas governor, one "Epic Fail" Brownback, has run the economy of Kansas into the ground (and then promptly mounted the corpse in sexual congress). Somehow he wants to fund this "Genital Militia"...

These are just examples of the discrimination the people who happen to not agree with what was assigned on their birth certificate.

Facebook is awash with memes about these cowardly acts of the "we don't understand - so let's hate whatever it is" types...

On the whole bathroom front... it is comedy and tragic at the same time... In my house, I have two bathrooms. I have had people over and no one, not ONCE, has asked me, "Which is the ladies?" or "Where is the men's room?"

"Now, Doug..." you say... "We are talking about public restrooms! What do you think some male going into the ladies bathroom is up to?????"

"Probably relieving their bladder. I double checked with Google... and sure enough, both males AND females have a bladder. If the bladder becomes even half full, it can cause discomfort."

"But what if my daughter is in their with me???"

"Keep them out of the persons fucking stall and I am pretty sure everything will be hunky dory. Oh, if your kid is opening closed stall doors, or crawling under them to get a peek as to what is going on... You have a fucking piece of shit kid and you should try this new thing called 'FUCKING PARENTING'"

And what happens when a normal lady... who just happens to have very masculine features and mannerisms gets accused of being a male transgender person, and then is unlawfully detained. What is her recompense? Personally, I think she sue the fuck out of the state. She should sue the fuck out of her accuser for defamation of character. I can probably think of a hungry lawyer or two who salivating to argue such a case...

I make jokes, and then there is a "cartoon" like this...

This advocates violence. This makes it seem like it is your duty... nay... your GAWD GIVEN RIGHT to inspect and frisk every person going in or out of a restroom... And by golly, if one of them thar deviants are found... Well, you are meriting out Gawd's Justice!!!!!

Never mind the fact you get to look up skirts all night... hoping for a dick? Little latent homosexuality manifesting itself? This is done all in the name of "protection"... Give me a fucking break.

A.W. Erwin... on behalf of all rational people, I would kindly invite you to get the fuck off my planet. I hope you assault the WRONG transgender person and they lay you the fuck out. THEN... when you are unconscious on the bathroom floor ("ewww" factor all it's own), they take the time to put makeup on you and fix your hair to be FAB-YOU-LUSSSSSSS! (yes, I snapped my fingers at each syllable!)

WHY, OH WHY do the mouth breathers with double digit IQ's believe that NOW, in 2016, they have to beware of the dreaded "Man who believes he is a woman" in their bathroom. Even worse, in the ladies restroom with their wives/daughters/relatives with vaginas????

And, why, oh why, does the party of "small government" want to waste taxpayer money to find out what kind of junk Androgynous Pat is sporting?

Glad you asked!

The overriding factor has to be fear... The people who are afraid simply can not grasp that some people feel in their very soul that the gender they were born with, was simply incorrect.

So... The scaredy-cats apply their OWN insecurities and perversions onto the transgender populace.

"They want to go into the opposite bathroom to stare at the opposite sex's genitalia!!!"

No... That is what YOUR first inclination to do is. Meaning if you could go into the opposite gender's restroom, that is what YOUR mission would be... You are projecting.

For the record... The female restroom must be something out of "Caligula" or something... Seriously... Are you ladies all running around naked in there? Airing out the nether region under the hand dryer? Are their pillow fights while topless??? Is THIS why you guys go in packs to the ladies room???

Only reason all these transgender men want to go in there!!! Only POSSIBLE explanation!

After the fear factor... it comes down to the biggest stupid factor of all... God.

I think the people of influence in the churches have a hard on for the transgender people because they have the gall to say, "God was wrong."

The powers that be in the religious community have to shut that shit down reeeeeal quick... Because if the sheep people can accept that... well... maybe... God was incorrect on this one thing then ma.... NOOOOOOO!!! God is infallible. God is all knowing and never wrong. God has a plan!!!!

Otherwise they would just be silly fuckers up there collecting 10% of your cash, and wasting up to 12.5% of your weekend... doing absolutely nothing, for no fucking reason whatsoever.

You don't really hear about the "Religious Left"... These "leaders" influence the legislators. I guess the separation of church and state is about as thin as a bathroom stall door.

_________________________________

This week's blog was originally be about Quantum Mechanics... Schrodinger's Cat and all that...

And I guess it can apply here as well... "Is the person in the stall next to me a man or a woman?"

Until you open the stall, the answer to that question is "Yes." Equally to both presented options.

If you are in the stall next to me, all I care about is if you follow the courtesy flush rule... About it.

I don't care if you have a vagina and a beard. I am not worried about your situation. Chances are, if I am in such need of a stall in a public restroom, things are dire enough and I have my own shit to deal with (pun intended).

If I am at the sink in the men's restroom, and a person who is obviously a woman comes up to the sink next to mine, I am not going to accost them. I am not going to call them out.

I am just going to be thankful they washed their fucking hands.

Cleanliness is next to something something...

d

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The Goddamned Tubes

I would say that at least three times a week, I will have to pull a u-turn, go back to the casa and see if I have closed my garage door. The phrasing on the first part of the sentence is important... "AT LEAST".

I have gotten a mile away and turned around. The act of hitting the little button on my remote is such a programmed response, so automatic, I have trouble recalling if I had done so or not.

I know the door is down. I have YET to go back and it be open.

At night... in the course of feeding the damn dog, I will open the door to the garage to make sure the garage door is shut. Again, I KNOW I closed it when I got in... But why do I have to check? (And sometimes, less than a minute later, RE-check because I forgot?)

When I was discussing this phenomenon with family and friends, TO A PERSON, I got "You do that too? I thought it was just me!" or some variation thereof.

Yesterday, walking around my beloved Scarborough, was talking to my friend Miracle. Somehow, the song "She's A Beauty" came up. Neither of us could remember the artist (Read the title again. You're welcome!). It was the kind of aggravation that comes with the single thought of...

"DAMMIT, I KNOW THIS!"

I remember that our phone number at 511 Johnson Dr., Duncanville TX, from 1980 to 1986 was 296-0572.

I remember waking up from eye surgery and seeing that they had put a bandage over my stuffed animals eye to match my own. And then puking up the scrambled eggs I tried to eat. I was four.

I remember the first comic book I got, and could really understand, was The Uncanny X-Men,  #167.

I got it from my cousin Keith. It really started my reading of the comic books that continues to this day.

I remember hearing Led Zeppelin IV in it's entirety for the first time. December of 85.

I remember what song was playing when I lost my virginity (Thank you, Led Zeppelin! When the Levee Breaks INDEED!).

I remember the combination on my first locker at Augusta High School, in the Sophomore hall. 1-42-05.

I remember my great grandmother teaching me how to clap loud enough to scare away the neighbors marauding mutts.

I remember the night I first drove into town after getting my driver's license... I got a flat.

I remember my grandparents basement... It was basically a hole, with rocks along the walls with some Elmer's glue to hold them together. I remember the older cousins would be down there, discussing girls, or other "teenage" stuff and telling my five year old self, that "If you come down those stairs, the ants in the walls will swarm out and eat your skin off!"

I remember living at my grandparents when I was 18 and STILL being scared to go down to the basement.

Point being, I have a pretty good memory. I treasure it. I can recall somethings with such clarity, it shocks me. Other times, it will take a audio stimulant... A song comes on the radio and I'm there.

Of course, a certain smell can trigger them... I can not smell honeysuckle and not be taken back to walking to Central Elementary in Duncanville, up Goldman St., and the house at the corner of Freeman had their fence lined with the stuff...

These days, I think of not being to recall a song's artist, or if the damn garage door is closed, and I worry about my memory. Hell, I had to review the blogs I have written to make sure I had not covered this topic... Slipping, man.

Take that to the Nth degree... Alzheimer's...

Out of all the maladies that can befall a person, I can think of nothing more cruel than this wretched disease. A person can otherwise be of good health, and the one thing that makes them "Them" is slowly eroded away.

We are the culmination of these imprints, these memories. They make us who we are. To have that stolen? No greater affront. No greater tragedy.

About 1.5 years ago, I was passing through the lunch room, getting some water. I said hello to the co-workers present. They were watching the news at noon. I was hoping to catch the weather.

The story was about an Alzheimer's Survivors group. The people who had lost someone to the disease. From the footage being played, if the sound had been removed... You would have thought it was a "Mega Millions Jackpot" winners group... Smiles. Happiness. Joy.

These were people who cared for loved ones for years, and the loved ones had forgotten them... These were people who exemplified the "In sickness, and in health" AND the "Til death do us part" areas of the vows...

In the one on one interviews, you could feel the dichotomy of the individuals. Combating the feelings of joyous freedom, and the feelings of assumed selfishness.

They knew that they should not feel "Joy"... then in the same breath, make an outfuckingstanding argument as to why they EARNED that "Joy". To have cared for someone you love WHILE watching that person, the person they were, slip away... Heartbreaking... No... A broken heart mends... It was heart wrenching... where the heart is twisted like a wet dishtowel and wrung violently, the emotions expunged... forced out by gripping unseen, iron-like fists...

 Look to your loved one, could be a spouse, could be a parent... Think of the days you spent laughing. The days you spent crying. Think of that ONE day... The one that solidified your relationship with one another. That ONE day that is no one else's. It is the defining day of you and your loved ones essence.

Now... erase it.

Worse... Imagine the person you love not remembering it.

As this vile thing progresses... Imagine them not remembering you.

I tear up at the thought. I am more scared of this befalling me than I am of the flesh eating ants in my grandparent's basement walls.

______________________

Find your parents photo albums. Go through them. Burn those images into your minds. Do it over and over. Then CHERISH THOSE MEMORIES.

The next trick is to not spend too much time remembering the past, that you neglect to make MORE memories.

Then lament the fact that all we have now are tumblr accounts, Instagram and Facebook feeds.

We're doomed, but at least we won't be able to remember why...

It's a sin that somehow
Light is changing to shadow
And it's casting it's shroud
Over all we have known

- Pink Floyd 

On the turning away,

d

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In Retrospectacle

About two to three hours ago, I started a conversation with someone. It was off a dating site, and in their profile, they already proved themselves more brave than I am. For privacy reasons, that is about as much as I can divulge.

So... The conversation is taking it's normal route. Lots of questioning back and forth. Thankfully, she said that she liked the writing of my rather lengthy dating profile. Well... Just so happens that I have a whole metric fuck tonne of writing right HERE! I proceeded to give her the link. She may in fact be reading this very sentence... Hi.

Right after sending the text, I thought... Shit. I kind of bare my soul in this saga on a screen. Not all of these are deep, introspective writings, but you could learn quite a lot about me. Not all of it flattering...

Did that stop me from giving her my full name so she could perv my profile on Facebook? NO,  IT MOST CERTAINLY DID NOT!!!

"Can I please have a knee that bends in a manner so I can just kick myself in the testicles?"

After some grueling minutes passing, waiting for some indication, favorable or unfavorable, I get a "I like the hair!"

This lets me know she made it to Friday's postings... Again... One can learn a LOT about me on my Facebook profile. I have had my phone number up on it since 2010... Not one call... But still! I don't lock down any of my posts or pics. (I have to call and check on my Dad, because I know his security minded ass might have just sprained his eye muscles from rolling them so hard...)

I had to go move mass amounts of weight back and forth, and up and down, and I was thinking about a conversation that a friend and I had recently about... the Past. Ah... the topic presents itself!!!

She entered a relationship. In the spirit of honesty and forthrightness, she divulged some of her recent dalliances and recounts of her romantic life. Nothing terribly shocking... Nothing that has not gone on before and will continue to happen after we are all decomposed.

Well, this new beau, he took umbrage with some of the details of her past. He would not let them go. He would use these nuggets of information as weapons in which to inflict pain and abuse. More atrociously, he used them as bludgeons to deflect any and all valid arguments she would make.

I had a little issue with the past being a hindrance. I was seeing a lady, they know who they are (SUPER-SLY-EARLIER-BLOG REFERENCE, TOTALLY MADE LESS SUPER-SLY BY THIS ALL CAPS PARENTHETICAL ANNOUNCEMENT!), who had issue with me being friends, Facebook and otherwise, with a few of my exes and women I had seen naked. The fact she was in Memphis, and me six hundred miles away, is a gargantuan factor.

It really bugged her. To the point where I had to tell her... "Either you trust me or you don't." I didn't realize it at the time, but in this case it was not wholly matter of trust, or the past. It was one of access.

A friend, who I was in a relationship with for about eighteen months, needed some cash. I had some cash and I loaned it to her. I did not hesitate. I did charge a big ass bottle of Jack Daniels as interest. "Business Acumen", I believe it is called...

It really bothered her that I did it... I had to explain, more than once, that with this person, who had done me no wrong, to whom I had zero, ZERO, animosity, and had one of the most adult relationships, from start to finish, is my friend. Again, it was the matter of access... When I looked back, I knew what phrase made my lady's blood boil... "She just came over got the cash."

It was the "just came over" part... like my current lady friend wished she could do, and this woman, with whom I had a past, could do in 10 minutes.

After explaining my past to her, I did my best to let her know nicely, "I am not going to alienate my friends, or people I care about because you are jealous they are in my life. These people helped me become the person I am today."

The distance did that relationship in... And we are now good friends... About a year after we were done, and still friends and talking sporadically, I jokingly clued her into the fact... "You know... You are know one of the 'exes' you used to not like..."

I know the "Fuck off" was said with a smile... I hope it was said with a smile...

Yesterday, out at Scarborough RAINessance Festival, I was hanging with our merry little band of miscreants. Two lovely ladies were discussing how they were not a fan of when a new lover would make it seem like he was executing something from a playbook.

Paraphrasing, but something along the lines of, "If you play with my tits, fucking ask my how I would like my tits played with. Don't just play with them like you did with your last chick. What may have worked on her, may not work on me."

I smiled to myself and thought... This is a lot like "initiative" in the workplace... If you try something and it makes your boss happy... You showed initiative. If you try something, and the boss is not happy, "What the fuck ya doing?"

If new lover is playing with her tits and it is something that is making her quite happy, then, "Proceeeeed...." (subtext: "I know this is what he has done before, and if I ever meet the chick that taught him this, I will say 'Thank You'"), if not... "What the fuck ya doing?"

The actual lessons to be taken away is communication, of course... That, and don't let the past dictate your future... or breast handling technique.

___________________________________

I am no prognosticator. I can not see the future. The only person I would believe that can truly read the future would have to have the title "Multiple Powerball Mega Millions Jackpot Winner". So, I do not put too much effort into fortune telling. I make plans and try to stick to them, sure... but... The Universe has jokes.

The present is unfolding as it should... Try and stop it. Dare ya. I'll make the popcorn.

I have a past. You have a past. They have a past. Unless you are in Witness Protection, there is know escaping it...

While I do not hide or shy away from any of it, I am not proud of all of my past. I have done some fucked up, repugnant shit. I have made peace with close to 99% of my past. There are always those things you will carry, until you shuffle the mortal coil, that you will never fully come to terms with...

I tell any new person of interest, "You can ask me any question. I may ask if you reeeeeally want the answer, but I will answer honestly... and I can't make you like the answer."

If someone can't handle your past and you have made your peace with it, present them with the following choices... 1) HONESTLY accept it and move on, taking all the time they need to do so. "Accepting" meaning they do NOT get to hold it against or over you. EVER. 2) Swallow that jagged little pill, STFU, and they NEVER hold it against or over you. EVER. 3) Fuck off.

Sitting in my Nowhere Land,

d

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And The Shovel Is For...

Yesterday, as I was about to start cleaning house, I had the brilliant idea to wear my brandy new, NONE too cheap, moccasins. Figuring to get them a little more broken in for Scarby next weekend. I get the right one laced up... Looking super awesome. On to the left moc!

The third of ten glass button makes a noise... like crushing glass. And this button just... wobbles off it's post...

The visions of what I wanted to do the Earth. Flames seen from space. A rolling, devastating storm cloud, raining death and destruction, with me at the head... Commanding and bending the raw, primordial power of...

VENGEANCE!!! (If I could have made it blink, I would have)

I finished cleaning the house. Called the good people at Catskill Mountain Moccasins, and all will be fixed in the first 10 minutes of opening day. I calmed down, and it took about five minutes to remedy the situation. Even I was a little appalled at the level of my reaction.

As the wise Ron Burgandy once said, "That escalated quickly!"

That was not the only inspiration for this week's verbal spewage...

I spoke with a beloved friend this week. She had been wronged. Shit, to be honest, she had been verbally abused by a person she was in a relationship with. I may be many things, but there are lines I will never cross. Hurting someone I supposedly love? It sickens me. As I told someone a while back, "I may be a bastard, but I am not a fucking bastard." (Not in the classical sense of the word... Love ya, Dad!)

As I recall, and am replaying in my movie-hole I call a brain, what this guy said and did, I feel hurt. I feel for this person (Never mind that she is my friend. Never mind that she is one of the few people on the planet I actually love. Just the fact she is a human being - hurting), recounting the recent events with tears in her eyes... Hell, I write this, I am tearing up... Hurt is the primary emotion...

However. Comma. There is a seething cauldron of rage bubbling underneath.

She came to me with her story because she had written a letter to this vile, piece of shit's new girlfriend explaining in detail what a vile, piece of shit this guy is. It was succinct and well thought out and executed (She is meticulous and hella organized! You do NOT want to piss her off.).

She was asking me if she should mail it.

There it is. The dilemma. Should one seek vengeance for the wrongs done unto them?

Not Just The Name of Roy's Horse!

What does it take for you to want to make someone feel YOUR pain?

In the case above, the reason she wanted to inflict suffering was abundantly clear. THE FUCKER WAS "GETTING AWAY WITH IT". Almost a direct quote.

Now, some people can read that story and it not have any effect, or elicit any reaction. These same people could see a scratch on their car and want the streets to run red with the blood of everyone in a twenty block radius because the bag of dicks that scratched their ride might still be in the circle of pain!

Last night I was helping a lady friend set up her blog, and discussing writing, so I brought up this topic. This lady is uber hippie lady. Loves hugs. Loves animals with a passion. Loves love. I have never heard her to speak an unkind word about anyone. The worse utterance being, "I would not like that person around me."

That is the equivalent to my "Fuck that fucking fuck. Hope they die screaming."

I asked her what would set her off? She said "Nothing" in an instant, clinging to her pacifist ways and teachings.

"Someone fucks with your kid", I countered.

"Ohh, they done fucked up then.", she said and I felt the sudden drop in temperature... I think even she was surprised by how quickly her mind went to vengeance.

Ta-da! Trigger discovered!

I told a therapist once, how I envision my own mechanism. I do my best to allow the momentary, brief flash of retribution on a plague-like scale to surface... and then lock that shit down. A lock is a series of little tumblers that have to be manipulated at the right angle and sequence to unlock.

IF someone were to pick my particular lock... It will make national news and... well, they United States Correction System might not let me blog from death row.

On Ice!

If you tell me you have not heard the old Klingon Proverb, "Revenge is a dish best served cold." I will call you a fibber and tell you to watch "Kill Bill Vol. 1 & 2" immediately.

I have been mentally dissecting that phrase for the past few days. I think I never really gave it much thought really. Someone been wronged, it is the go-to of vengeance quotes... Don't really think about it. Just say that shit. Sound smart!

When you are hurt, when you are angry, when you are BLINDED by those two powerful emotions, the first thing to go out the window? REASON.

The "served cold" part is the beautifully evil part of the quote. Let the hate and hurt simmer down... A boiling pot of water in not a real danger. Why? Because you see water doing that gurgle, rolling bubble shit... "Hey, that water is hot!"

You see a nice container of water... not exhibiting any of the behaviors associated with a boil... Stick your hand in... Come on... All is calm and serene... C'mon... I got you, Pum'kin... BURN!

No... IF you do seek vengeance... Let the storm pass... In the calm that follows... Wait for your opportunity... Like a Swedish Steppenwolf cover band naming themselves "Bjorn To Be Wild"... That kinda opportunity.

Regain the higher brain function and set forth your plan to completely decimate the object of your wrath.

A dish best served cold...

____________________________

I ended up telling my friend that I would NOT mail the letter. It was difficult for me to get that jagged, little pill out myself. I would not condemn her if she did end up mailing it. 

My reasoning is that, at the moment of our conversation, she was out. She was free and clear of that dysfunctional universe. To mail the letter would be opening the door and walking back into it.

She would not be present to see the expression and reaction of her letter being read... There only satisfaction would be that she had done her due diligence to try and help another human being from being hurt the same way she had been...

Yeah yeah... that is nice and all... but it would really fuck with that world class bag of dicks too.

In this case, however, dealing with this sociopath... It would not cause one flag in his step... Which is what really drove my opinion to not send the letter.

"Before you embark on a journey of  revenge, dig two graves." (TITLE!)

Confucius said that... And what it means, in that day and age, your reaction, would cause an reaction. Which would prompt your escalated reaction, and then an escalated reaction on theirs...

Even if you vanquish your foe, how much of yourself was sacrificed in the process?

I miss the parts of me I have buried along the way and I am tired of digging graves. That being said, there are seven graves I still have to fill, and I check each dish's temperature daily.

I hate it when my friends hurt,

d

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So A Priest Walks Into A Bar...

On this day of zombie worship, I thought it only fitting that I regale you, faithful reader, with my top three most blasphemous tales.

I am not saying I am proud of these... But... Truth be told, gun to the head... They do make me smile.

Coming in at number Three. Knock Knock.

I do not know if this counts as "blasphemous", but it is in the same ballpark... So, it was Easter weekend when I was in the USAF, and I was divorced from X1, so this puts it in 1997.

Being that I was drunk on most, if not all, of my awake hours when I was not in uniform, this is one of those rare stories that I can NOT start with the phrase, "So... we were drinking and..."

There was a lady in my shop, we will give her the made up name of Karla Melly. She was... "spirited" and believed in "free-love"... And like Simon & Garfunkel croon in "The Boxer", "There were times when I was so lonesome, I took some comfort there." (As did a lot of other guys in the shop...)

She had a very skewed moral compass at that time... It aligned with mine quite nicely, and we were good friends. So, when early April was nearing, she decided that I was the needed element in her mission...

"Hey, Dougie."

"Yo, Karla."

"You need to come with me to church on Easter Sunday."

See had a ritual that all the drinking, cavorting, and shenanigans would be eradicated from her "record" if she went to church on Easter and Christmas. Sort of a Bi-Annual cleansing... I weighed her dilemma... I took into account the fate of her immortal soul which hung in the balance and two milliseconds later...

"Um... No?"

"We will sin directly after. In the parking lot if ya want..."

"Kinky.. Okay."

So, in our Sunday best, and just a little hungover (NOT DRUNK!), we made our way to the base chapel.

Walking up, we could see through the little side windows that we were maybe two minutes late... I gave her the nod back to the car, indicating my willingness to bail. She was resolute and gave a shake of her head. She was set on her mission of atonement.

Not minutes before getting out of the car, I had remarked on how calm and serene the day was...

As we opened the doors, a gust of wind, Category 4 Hurricane force, out of FUCKING NOWHERE appears, as if we summoned it, and proceeds to extinguish EVERY. SINGLE. lit candle in the joint. There were many.

Was there a follow up gale? Was there a front on the horizon? Did the severe weather alert system go off?

Nope... Just the one.

The smoke in the air hanged for an eternity. The congregation looked at us. We looked back at them... I was kind of waiting for someone... ANYONE... to point and say "I cast thee out!!!" They never got the chance.

The bruises on my arm from where Karla death gripped and pull me out of the chapel and back to the parking lot were the only reminder of the incident... And I proudly displayed them to my fellow troops on Monday.

At the time, I was not the militant Atheist I am today. I was still in the "Identify As Christian but I have some serious doubts" camp. So, sadly, neither of us were much in the sinning mood after that little meteorological anomaly.

Unholy Shit aka Number Two... The Taste Test!

I would like to stress upfront that it was not me in this chapter who did the blaspheming... I just love the story. Oh, word of warning... Shit gets real graphic.

In the yule season of 2004, it was the first Xmas being divorced from X2. I was living in Waxahachie, Texas. Smoking like a chimney. Drinking like a fish.

Through the miracle of technology, a girlfriend of a friend introduced me to a nice young lady... Via myspace (The Facebook before Facebook). She was 20 years old. I was 32. Don't judge me... We all get ourselves something nice for Christmas... Mine just happened to be bendy and had a tongue ring.

For the next two or three weeks, we Netflixed and Chilled a lot... And since there was no Netflix, we did the later. Fun times.

I knew in my heart of hearts, there was no real future relationship, and I made sure she was informed of this, as well. I don't think a diagram or even four years of classes could have made her "understand" it. The fact that the "relationship" was on it's last legs came sharply into focus as we were cruising back to her place, and she remarked, "Those spinning rims on that truck are the COOLEST!"

Yeah... Start the countdown...

I think it was two days later, she informed me that she, "Could not continue our wicked ways."

So... My first thought was, "You mean our 'wicked AWESOME' ways!"... but went with, "Why is that?" instead.

"Because our Lord and Savior...." and that shit went on for a while. I tuned it out. She had left a few items at my apartment and came down that weekend to get them.

And you guessed it... We were wicked again.

I did not hear from her after a while. I checked a couple of her posts online and it looked like the Jeezy Creezy took hold this time.

Sooooooooo... Thursday. My friend, whose girlfriend did the introducing, and I are cruising up the Chili's for lunch. I was behind the wheel... and our conversation went like this...

"You seeing <Her name redacted> this weekend?"

"Nope... We are done."

"What happened???"

"She found Jesus."

"You mentioned that last week... Didn't she spend the night last Friday?"

"Yeah... she found him last week, but came down to get her shit... and... well..."

And then Elroy dropped the bomb...

"So... How does Jesus' cum taste?"

I fully expected the pit to Hell to open right in front of us and swallow us whole... And there was much swerving as I was laughing til my balls ached.

That's my boy, ELROY!

Number One With a Blessing

In the summer of 97, which puts back in Tacoma and in the USAF, we went out on a Friday night.

When I say "we", I mean there was anywhere from 10 to 20 of us from our shop heading to the same place to hang. "Espirit de Corps" they call it... We ran thick as thieves. Someone always had your back and there was always someone there to make sure EVERYONE made it home.

Some Sergeant heard of this town that had a "community hall" type thing. It was about 30 minutes out of Tacoma. I could not even begin to tell you where... We get there... and I know that I will be bored fuckless in about two minutes.

HEY LOOK!!! It's a diagram... I do apologize for it not being to scale...

Click to Embiggen!

The "X" marks the spot where we ended up. Someone was on the main stage "Blah Blah Blah"ing about something. In front of me, there were some napkins. White, paper napkins. I was admiring the fact they were not just some cheap ass paper napkins. One step below cloth napkins, I tells ya. Classy!

So, I am folding this napkin. And I realize that my black shirt had an interesting collar.

The red arrow is to indicate that the button for the "collar" was offset of the main button line...

So... I took my napkin... and folded it right over the "collar"...

My friend looked up and started tearing up with laughter.... "Holy shit. If it did not look so SPOT ON, it would not be as funny..." The rest of our group took notice... There was applause.

I stood up and said, "Who needs something from the bar?" Bets were made if I would wear it all the way up the bar and back...

I received our order, headed up to the bar. The bartender asked, "What'cha nee...." and then she looked up... gulped, "Father, what can I get for you?"

"Good evening, I need three Bud Lights, two Sam Adams, a Jack n Coke, and a pack of Marlboro Lights - shorts. We are at table 4... Can't miss us..."

"Ah... Ah...  All right..."

As I was headed back, feeling completely sacrilegious, I noticed that in one of the booths, there was a nice group of young ladies... I also noticed the booths all had pitchers of water...

So... I stopped... Turned, and dipped my fingers in the pitcher, flicked a little H20 at each, did the Catholic Sign of the Cross, and ended it with a wink and a smile that would charm Satan himself...

As I finished going back the table, my crew gave me a standing ovation.

I haz moments.

________________________________________

I did not share these to show you that there is no deity... But if there was one, I would probably be struck dead nine times over by now... Just sayin'.

These are just some funny moments that will ALWAYS make me happy to have been a part of. I will take a couple of minutes of that life, over a lifetime of "servitude" any day... And twice on Sundays.

Salty, bitter, and runny,

d

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From the Universe

Congratulations.

You are being born today... Homo Sapiens, Earth, early 21st Century, North America, April 20, 2016, in about 20 minutes or so... Just wanted to give you a head's up on a couple of things... Ya know, prepare you for some stuff...

First...

Breathe. Seriously... This is about all you will be able to handle at this point. 

Breathing is so important, older people actually get "Just Breathe" tattooed on their bodies. As a reminder? In case they forget? Silly humans. Never cease to amaze.

You will breathe, nonstop, everyday, until you die, which will be... lemme see... yup... in the future. I don't want to ruin the surprise.

Next thing is probably going to be "nipple"... Enjoy... Everyone enjoys nipples. There is a span of about 13 years or so where they are not a priority, after that... It just becomes a matter of degrees of importance.

Cast of Characters

You are going to enter into some chaos. That "breathing" thing... First ones are going to be really cold. Sorry, but you just spent 9 months, give or take, gestating in a warm womb... The view sucked and you were basically swimming in your own shit and piss... but ya know... They will wash ya off.

The woman that the people in white or blue (doctors and nurses) are going to hand you to, looking ragged and like she just ran a marathon? That is your "Mother", or "Mom". She, at that moment, will love you, unconditionally. You are one of the best things to happen to her...

The gent, that may be in the room at your Mother's side, but has the "Oh, Shit... This just got real!" expression? That will be your "Father" or "Dad". 

He too loves you, but he is going to be doing the mental calculations of how much you are going to cost him over the next thirty or so years. He may start crying... Could be happiness... or lament...

Would love to tell you that these two are married. Would love to tell you that they love each other and will either get married or stay together... That would be going against the odds. 51% of all marriages end in divorce. 

Also, there is no telling at this point if they are ready for you. There is no guessing their mental state. We may be having this conversation again in a couple of years if Mom decides that you are the root cause all of her problems... No telling... Roll of the dice! Exciting!

Gender

You are either going to be a "male" or "female". I know which, but again, don't want to ruin the surprise.

If you are a "male", then you are going to be fine. Rarely objectified. Treated with much more respect in almost every facet of your life. 

"Females" will be objectified pretty much from the start. Hopefully, in your lifetime, you will make the same wage as a man for doing the same work... but I doubt it.

Also, Females will have their bodies go through weird changes. At puberty, a woman starts a monthly cycle, where she has her body chemistry go wonky, then painful cramping and bleeding as she sloughs off an unused egg and uterine lining. Her breasts enlarge, sometimes to a painful degree. Societal norms dictate that she shaves her armpits and legs. Now, if the woman becomes impregnated, the cycle stops. For nine months, just like you did, the embryo grows into an infant human which she then squeezes out painfully. The woman's breast begin to produce milk to feed said infant... Remember the nipple from earlier? Once the woman reaches her mid forties to early fifties, her body goes through ANOTHER metamorphosis. The cycle stops. Hormones get all out of whack. 

Males, at puberty, may start shaving.

Race

At this point in human history, race is still a thing. Would be great if people realized that by 2164, the races really start to deteriorate and homogenize, and the Homo Sapiens becomes the actual important part.

Again, I know what race you are going to be... any minute now... But, ya know... "Spoiler Alert"...

If "Caucasian", you will be pretty much golden. Just the way it is. Bank loans get approved at higher percentage. Acceptance into colleges is higher. 

If "African-American"... well... You are more likely to be shot by police officers... by 800%. Even unarmed. You also have an 80% higher conviction rate for the same crimes committed by the aforementioned "Caucasians". Just wait til 2020... President Kayne West makes some interesting changes. I have said too much.

If "Latin American", you will face your own hardships. Mostly everyone thinking you have "invaded" and are essentially an "Anchor Baby". You will learn about these imaginary lines on these things called "maps". On one side of the line, you are labelled one thing, on the other side of the line, you are labelled "less than". The "Battle of El Paso" will be right around the time you are old enough to be drafted... Too bad Canada built that wall... You can blame Trump for that one...

If "Asian-American", well... you guys end up winning the whole ball of wax. Congrats.

Education

If you are a resident of the United States of America, you will more than likely attend "Public Schools". By the time, AND IF, you graduate in the year 2034, you will be 18 or so. Never has information been so readily available to everyone... yet the lacking of wisdom been so prevalent. 

You will have been taught at the level of the stupidest mother fucker in class. So... Best of luck. Bone up on your Chinese. Just saying.

Here is nugget of wisdom. I will try to make this one stick... You are going to school to be "educated". NO ONE, NO POWER IN THE VERSE CAN STOP YOU FROM LEARNING!

Love

This is actually one of the greatest and cruelest things in the Universe. It will make you feel like you are bursting with "goodness and light" and floating on Cloud 9... and will drag you through the depths of a hellish landscape and rip out your heart.

Love is an undeniable constant... it is an actual thing... It really is neither created or destroyed... More like "tapped into"... Think of it like a stream...If you dive in without checking the depth or strength of the current, you will get swept away... And when you crash, it will hurt like a bitch. Helluva ride, though!

If you stay on the shore, never dipping a toe... You WILL spend your later days wondering "What if..." This is a guarantee.

Right now... Any second now, that is... All you can count on is the love of your mother. And if the Universe is kind, it is the one love you will ALWAYS be able to count on.

The World

Earth... The planet you are being born on, in 2016... It's in bad shape. I would try and hit Disneyworld in Florida before 2050... just saying.

The possibility that you will have respiratory difficulty due to air quality issues increases every year. Also, every year of your life, will be the hottest one on record... Until that one storm... but again... The surprise is worth it!!!! The look on your face will be priceless...

There are people, today... The day of your birth, who still think "Climate Change" is a "hoax". That, or they are debating whether or not it is "man-made".  That is like walking into a kitchen and finding a huge turd in the middle of the kitchen.

"Is it man-made or did a dog do this???" (The dog represents "Nature")

"Who gives a fuck??? We have to clean this shit up!"

Oh.... Dogs... You will loooooove them furry bastards... They are pretty awesome... Just watch out for that one dog, two streets over, when you are seven... 

You.

The stuff between your imminent birth, and the moment you cease to be is called "Life". It will seem infinite, and then you will not know how long it will last and that will keep you awake at night... Or the thought of  what happens at the end of it... 

Big mystery... And that is why actually LIVING is important.

Your life will be what you make of it. There will be high points, and low points... Trials and tribulations... Moments of great joy, and moments of great despair.

Here is the thing, though...

Life is unfair. I don't care.

Tough cookie to swallow... I get it... 

Ooh... Cookies...

______________________________

All of this doesn't really matter... You are going to have a full memory wipe when oxygen hits your brain. Think of it like wiping a hard drive on a computer. Little safeguard built into you silly, silly humans. Sometimes though... the wipe doesn't take all the way... Some clusters sneak through. You guys call it "deja vu" or "premonitions"... Good times.

Not to worry.., This is not your first time. According to the charts here, this is your... seventh time... Enjoy it as much as you can... Get ready, and head towards the light.

Breathe,

The Universe.*

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*d

The State of Living

Those who know me know that I am pretty sick of Texas. Besides Austin, Texas has little redeeming value. The only reason I am here is the same reason bank robbers rob banks: It's where the money's at.

So, I began thinking about it... If I didn't live in Texas, where would I like to reside? And the process of elimination started...

Besides Austin, there really is no place in Texas I would like to live... And Austin is getting to the point where it is no longer as cool as it once was... The secret was let out of the bag and it got flooded with people who have made it as uncool as everywhere else in the  Low Bar State.

Waxahachie would be second place... only because it would be close to Scarborough Ren. Faire... and I have heard rumor that the city is getting some software that I have spent the last year becoming a bad ass in... Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm....

Okay... Next... And we will start East Coast...

Maine: Con: If Stephen King crosses your path, you have 24 hours to kill a clown or you die... Pro: You get to kill a clown!

New Hampshire: I am white. But even I am not that white.

Vermont: While I like "v" words, and maple syrup... I do not like vermouth and this state is too close to that word.

New York: I would never live in New York City, because it would be too much... and I am pretty sure that the one big ass city drives the cost of living for the rest of the state... And I would despise that my car insurance was crazy high because of dumb ass people.

Massachusetts: It would take too long to learn how to spell it... And also, Bahstun? No thanks.

Rhode Island: Climate change and the rising ocean levels will take care of this one.

Pennsylvania: Just by what I have seen at the sporting events... Where people will boo their own mothers, I just can't see me setting up shop there.

New Jersey: There is apparently a vile creature that haunts the State... called a Snooki... Reason enough to steer clear.

Maryland: I have no opinion about Maryland...  I have nothing in regards to Maryland. It just doesn't register... Word Association Time... "Maryland"... "Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh".

Washington D.C.: I would get too angry everyday being that close to politicians. Lewis Black levels...

Delaware:

Nuff Said.

West Virginia: I am not that fond of any place that a direction is in the name...

Virgnia: This state sucks so bad that a part broke off and said "We are doing our own thing..."

North Carolina: I think I went here for a couple of weeks in the USAF... I dunno... Was drinking heavily then. I do remember it being muggy as all hell... so... Pass.

South Carolina: N. Carolina's redneck brother?

Georgia: The most litigious state. Everyone sues everyone... And no one has ever come back from Georgia and said "It was soooo cool there!". All I have ever heard is "Sweat pooled in every crack and crevice I possess and in ones I did not know I possessed."

Florida: Heaven's waiting room... I have been to the state once, on the Gulf side. Stayed on the beach which was nice... But again... It will be underwater sooner rather than later...

Ohio: I do not like college sports... I do not like the NFL...  I can VISIT the Rock N' Roll Hall of Fame.

Kentucky: 4.4 million people, 12 last names... Do I hear dueling banjos?

Tennessee: Memphis had it's appeal... and that is lost to me now...

Alabama: Some people looked at "Forrest Gump" as a heart warming story... I saw it as a cautionary tale.

Mississippi: I think the state flag has a Rebel Flag in it... Automatic elimination.

Indiana: I have no opinion on Indiana... It neither repulses nor attracts me... Which means it has SECRETS!!!!

Michigan: Having escaped BOTH peninsulas, and now that the government is literally trying to kill it's residents... Michigan would be the last place I would ever return to.

Wisconsin: Summers here last a total of 37 minutes... Need a little more than that...

Minnesota:  Ohh dontcha noooo.... Cold weather and people talk funny. If I was gonna live in a place like this, I would just move to Sweden...

Iowa: I think I have an ex wife there... There are not a lot of people there, so the chances of bumping into her are not that astronomical. Why risk it? And as a famous comedian once said, "If you want to get away from it all, and I mean IT. ALL.... Des Moines, Iowa... IT doesn't even know where Des Moines is."

Illinois:  Again... I am betting that Chicago's economy drives the prices up of things across the state... I just am not a fan of that noise. And it is too close to Michigan. 

Missouri: Been there. Done that. They can keep it. Will have to visit the folks sometime. Got invited out for a beer from an old friend just last night who is also up that way. Visit: Yes. Live: No.
Arkansas: Have you heard how exciting life in Arkansas is? Yeah... Me neither.

Louisiana:  Two thirds of the state is a polluted wasteland do to Halliburton and the Koch Brother's tampering and oil and gas operations...

Oklahoma: I have driven through Oklahoma more than I have any other state. I consider that a sign...

Kansas: Part of me would not mind moving back to Kansas, but the state leadership is so completely insane... I mean, Brownback, the governor, is absurdly corrupt and bought off.. Sad... Lot of good people there... Can't vote to save their lives, but good people.

Nebraska: Like Kansas, but without the pizzazz?

South Dakota: Like Nebraska, without the seasons. And flat... Folks lived in Aberdeen... Dad told me once that there was a river about 250 miles away... If it were to flood and crest over 6 inches... they would see water in town... Your concrete PATIO has a steeper grade than that...

North Dakota: I knew a guy in the USAF who was stationed at Minot AFB in North Dakota... He asked, "Have you ever been cold?" and no matter what you answered, he said "That's cute."

Montana: In one week, there was a train derailment... which spilled cargo containers of bleach... An earthquake... and flooding... Total damages: $42.16... Yeah.. .no.

Wyoming: I drove across Wyoming and hit ALL THREE towns in the state... Before I did that, I thought this place was a myth. I have never met anyone from there... Never seen a license plate from there...

Colorado: Given recent legislation... Possible...

New Mexico: I like some moisture in the air...

Arizona: According to the representatives of this state there is nothing but drug cartel killings everywhere... McCain can keep that state.

Utah: Mormons. NEXT!

Nevada: I don't gamble or partake of prostitutes... So... The states two biggest hits are non factors...

Idaho: Never heard anything bad about Idaho. Never heard anything good either... And potatoes are a starch.

California: I just can't afford California... When the Yellowstone Caldera goes, I think it will trigger San Andreas to let most of Cali slide on off into the ocean...

Alaska: Palin. NEXT!

Hawaii: Of course I would live on an island paradise. Are you daft?

Washington: I lived there before, would do so again... After investing in some Gore-tex..

Oregon: Hmmm... I would very much not mind living in Oregon.

________________________________

I am sure every state has that one shining jewel of a town... Maybe even Mississippi... That one place that makes the state worth it.

Having driven a lot of miles across this nation, I have seen some amazing sights. Rock formations in Wyoming that make you want to punch that one guy at work who says "The Wurld iz only 3000 yeerz old! Bible sez sew!" 

Coming through the canyon pass into Albuquerque at night and the city lights just appearing... Magical. 

Storms rolling across the plains of Kansas... I mean, ya got an hour before they show up... but you know they are coming... 

I moved around a couple of times as a kid... And some more as an adult... I guess I am getting that wanderlust again...

Beast of burden,

d

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