The Cat in the Hatch

I warned you, one day, I was going to post something about cats. Today, my fellow Bloggies, is that day. It’s not that I hate cats, I’m actually quite fond of the hair-ball regurgitating fuckers. I even have a member of the feline family in the house. I enjoy cleaning the litter box and then feeding him so he can shit some more. But as you’ve seen this week I am not without a sick sense of humor as well. If you haven’t seen the video on this link then check it out.

Before you start tossing insults my way, remember . It’s only CGI people.

Haloleon Dynamite

In the spirit of Rip-off Wednesday, I’m going to do what I’ve done, oh so many times before, take from The Mayor of Mitchieville, like I was the Robin Hood of Blogging.

The Mayor had a post a while back that made me roar. Hey the Mayor is a funny guy. I can name two separate occasions when he actually made me laugh. (Alright three times.) Any-hoo, he posted a bit on Real life vs The Internet done by Halo.


Also in homage to yesterdays Napoleon Dynamite Soundboard, and the above comment, I am posting this as a bastard offspring of the two. Check it out and let the Mayor know what you thought.

Politically....um...er...hmm

Last week I posted my thoughts/well not really, on the Schiavo debacle/right to die. As was evident from my Blog/non-Blog, I’m a fence sitter, neither opposing/for, or for/opposing someone’s right to die/live.

I think, this is all because, when I have to maneuver through the war-zone of political correctness, I don’t/do, want to offend anyone/everyone, with what I have to say, be they male/female, vertically challenged/shrimps, big boned/eat way too much, mentally disabled/retarded (just fuckin’ say it!). The list goes on.

Today I will try to come off my perch of observation and dip my toe into the waters of outrage/humor with this link, in the effort to be comedic/an ultimate asshole with poor taste.

Can I use you guyzes soundboard?

Today I am posting a soundboard. My first one. This is not an effort to do something unique. There are a plethora of soundboards like it in every spun nook and cranny of the wed. Nor is this an attempt to ride off the wave, from the ship that pulled out of harbor long ago. Basically I’m just a lazy ass Son of a bitch, and this post saves my brain the energy of coming up with something on my own. (Can you smell the rubber burning?)

So get ready for yet another, Napoleon Dynamite Soundboard. Use it wisely on those really sweet jumps.

Monday morning musing

I admit it . It was a dumb idea to do this Blog Arena of Death thing. I mean, you know there are enough bad Blogs out there without me shining the beacon of humiliation on them.

I have become bored with the whole idea of the worst against the worst. The truth is, what I picked out on my surfing travels, is probably not the bottom of the shit pit. In fact, I know it isn't. (that's a sad statement.) It was a weak attempt to fill the pages on days when I could think of nothing else to write. However, now I find there are plenty of other tid-bits to talk about, and I really don’t need this little exercise of Blogs pitted against one another in a hopeless display of futility.

That said, I am going to see this through to the end. A penance if you will. I guess, I’m like that devout religious fanatic who flogs themselves then thanks Jesus for the scars. So with a brave face I announce to you, Blewbewy and Pearlzild87 will face off in the Blog final. Ho hum. Now I’m off to a source of greater pleasure....Can I interest anyone in a little foot worship?

Cereal killer

Tired of never having enough milk for the cereal you eat in the morning? Or maybe that banana muffin is stale? Perhaps the coffee is just too bitter? Now you can get your revenge. Go here.

Sign me up

Before I take off to my cottage in Hudson’s Bay this long weekend, I thought I’d leave you with this brief Easter message.

Hard as a rock

Welcome to Rip-off Wednesday. The day where I post interesting pictures or articles obtained from others. The one day where I get to be a scavenger of the Blog community.

It has long been thought that we were visited by a superior race long ago. That they have left there mark in the Pyramids, or with the Incas, or the Stonehenge pocket watch. Some even feel that they are here among us as witnessed in the crop circles, Dick Clark’s longevity, or Donald Trump’s hair. Now archaeologists have uncovered proof that a more advanced race of super beings were here once. But I caution you to watch out for the anal probe.

Walk softly and carry a big dick 

Here today gone tomor...no wait a minute.

All this press over Terri Schiavo is making me ill. It’s not that I am in favour of either position. I don’t know her or the Schiavo family, so who am I to decide what should be done? That said I still can’t believe the number of people with their fingers in that life-death pie.

If you are a fence-sitter like me and need to witness both sides of the coin, here are a couple of places you can go to show your allegiance one way or the other. For or against pulling the tube.

Or you can go here and try to forget the whole dang thang.

The long and winding blog

I’m a little crusty-eyed after all the games in The Blog Arena of Death Sunday. I sat in great anticipation as the day began. I even put on my new Jetsgo flight attendent uniform that I got for a bargain on ebay. Sitting with a big bucket of munchies and beers as history played out in front of me, I watched as Blewbewy cut through Westernkyteenveg like a hot knife through butter. I saw the relentless onslaught of Pearlzid87 who brought along an interpreter to solve the enigma of their opponent. They not only unexpectedly beat Botalabasura, but devoured them. Then there was the little-too-late rally of Simonecreativ who tried valiantly but were over matched by Exoticwaverley.

However, the final game between the defending champ Dazzlingprincess and the challenger Carascoolplaceonline was the most exciting of the bunch. A scorless tie that went into the twelth extra frame. I think that would make it Dodecahedrouple overtime. The champ survived the scare and squeaked out a somewhat disputed goal that upon review stood as the winner.

That’s why I couldn’t post the games yesterday the last game was still being played. Not since the first Norwegian to scream "Iditarod," has a sporting event gone on this long. The conference finals go next weekend with Blewbewy up against Dazzlingprincess and Pearlzid87 up against Exoticwaverley.

Blog official’s grave site, a grave sight

Tragedy has once again fallen on the Koulderfrump family as the grave site of the late Lars Koulderfrump was desecrated last night by hooligans.

Koulderfrump was the Blog Arena of Death official who died horribly when his car exploded after a match in which he made some controversial calls. It is believed that his officiating cost the Najaf-abad team the game in their South Central Division Semi-final against Exoticwaverley.

The same people are alleged to be responsible for another car bomb that blew Koulderfrump’s hearse to bits at the funeral a week ago, and now the carnage and defecation that was found over the enurned remains late last night. Investigation is pending.

Cosby caught red-handed

Incriminating photos made public

Incriminating photos of, one of the opponents in the Mayoral race for Mitchieville, were leaked to the press late last night. The pictures are of, Mayor hopeful Jerry Cosby and a male companion, and have caused a controversy in Cosby’s camp. A group calling themselves The C.U.N.T. (Citizens United in Nemesis Termination), claimed responsibility for the action. Cosby was not pleased with the events and spoke this morning from the headquarters of his own group Denizens to Insert Cosby as King. He once again stated as he has all campaign that any allegations of impropriety are unfounded and that, "The C.U.N.T. is all wet, as usual, in its efforts to entice the D.I.C.K. into further confrontation."

Getting down to the final four

I’m suppose to be studying for Monday....I know, I know, but why did it have to be this weekend when there are so many important games to watch? No silly, I’m not talking about the Final 4.....I'm alerting you to the Blog Arena of Death. That’s right! It's Division Final weekend and that means there is going to be a slaughter of more brain cells than a single episode of Maurry Povich.

The matchups are all set and there should be some close games.

In the North Division, defending champ Dazzlingprincess keeps rolling along and should have no difficulty dispensing with the challenger Carascoolplaceonline.

In South Central, Exoticwaverly won't be able to count on shabby officiating to get them further in the playoffs this time when they host Simonecreativ.

In the West Coast, Bluebewy looks unstoppable. These little girls are devouring their opponents and they've barely reached puberty. Westernkyteenveg will be up against the wall to beat back the onslaught.

And finally the North East, does Botalabasura still have a few tricks up their sleeve or is it Blog over when they take on Pearlzild87? Tune in to ESPN 4 and find out.

It's going to be a hell of a rollercoaster ride to the final four and of course the losers will be banished to the mystery hoop of pain. Which is no picnic I can tell you. The spathula is extremely sharp and the egg-beater can do a fair bit of damage if you catch it just right. I’m still walking with a limp.

LLLLLLETS GET READY TO BLOGGERRRRR!

Worse? How could it be worse? Jehovah, Jehovah!

I almost got through the week without ranting, but I can only bite my tongue for so long. My lack of posting of late is due to my brain sponge trying to digest the overload of asinine information that is the Land Exterminator Exam. The title alone insists that I should be learning to blow shit up...real good! Nothing could be farther from the truth.

Instead they teach you stuff like, how The European chaffer will suck the grass dry if you let them, (Prostitutes have nothing on this little fella.)
Or how certain grubs hibernate in snowy climbs, depending on whether their anus has a Y shaped vent or a V shaped opening. I’ve had equations and calculations up the yin-yang, legislation concerning aquatic marine vegetation, species of insects from Chinch bug to Beetle, PCP numbers, and I simply don't care anymore.

I’ve tried everything to form some sort of retention. I tried to imagine that my family was being held for ransom and the only way to see them all alive again was to pass this test. I tried comparing my new knowledge to television shows things like Joanie loves Chinchy, 2-4-D something, Desperate House-pests, but nothing works. Even saying, "Ladies and Gentlemen welcome to the stage...The Beatles!" had no effect because there are 1.5 million species in the world. After a week of it... Argghhh! I’m ready to pull out body hairs one by one.

I don’t care if the Mouse-eared Chickweed has fibrous roots. I don’t give one hoot if the Birch Leafminer is really a tiny black sawfly. I couldn’t care less if Bromadoilone is the active ingredient in a single dose of anticoagulants. I don't care. I don't care! I DON"T CARE!

If I fail like 70% of my compatriots already have, then I get to take it all over again. Yea.... me!
I only wanted my licence so I could get a few more bucks an hour, but after this week I label my chances as slim, and none. Actually the Government are very pleased with the failure rate and if it weren’t so high, I’m told they would make the test even harder to compensate. It just goes you how fucked they all really are. I mean look at how well they handled the Air India case.

After this is all over on Monday I need something less stressful.....I know....I think I'll audition for the new "Lord or the Rings," musical that's coming to town. I think I'd make a good dancing and singing Gandalf.

A day late and a dollar short

I realize this is no longer Rip-off Wednesday, but I’m going to post like it is anyway. "Where the hell were you?" I know that’s what you are saying, but it will all be made clear. I know what you're thinking. It's not because of the green beer I assure you. Nor is it early signs of alzheimers. It is simply, I have not quite figured out how to tell time on my new Stonehenge pocket watch yet. You can see my dilemma. I’ve barely read the manual.

However I promise to be more attentive to Greenwich Mean Time. That is until the jump ahead in a couple of weeks to Standard time (Or is it Daylight savings? I could never figure that out.) Then I'll have to spring the trilithons forward to where the dew drops sing and the cats meow. It’s all so confusing. See you tomorrow or is it yesterday?

The Stonehenge pocketwatch 

Seal crazy

Representatives from an assortment of protest groups - about 400 people in all - assembled outside federal offices in Halifax, Ottawa, Toronto and Vancouver in an attempt to mobilize Canadians against the annual East Coast Seal hunt.

First of all I think Seal lives in L.A. so they're looking in the wrong place to begin with.

In Halifax, about 30 people unfurled banners, chanted and waved signs outside the empty constituency office of federal Fisheries Minister Geoff Regan. In Toronto, about 150 placard-waving people turned out for a "family friendly" protest in the city's downtown shopping district. A slightly smaller group on Parliament Hill was jeered by a young Inuit woman from Nunavik. She waded into the crowd to tell them the Seal hunt is a way of life for her people.

I guess people from Nunavik don't appreciate his music. I'm not a huge fan but I did like "Crazy," and that Rose one from the "Batman" soundtrack.

Brigette Bardot, now in her 70s and walking with a cane, says she is still opposed to the hunt. Instead of Bardot, protesters are now relying on the faded star power of Richard Dean Anderson - the former star of the TV shows MacGyver and Stargate.

MacGyver! Cool! If anybody can save Seal it's MacGyver. "Don't thank me Seal, thank the moon's gravitational pull."

The point of the Halifax protest was "to indicate that a large percentage of Maritimers, who live by the sea, are against the Seal hunt."

I guess they like his music too.

Protests were also held Tuesday outside several Canadian embassies. In Mexico City, for example, about 30 people carried signs calling for a boycott of Canadian goods. Other placards featured photos of Seal underneath the words, Please Don't Kill Me.
Apparently the hunt starts in late March.

Run Seal, run!

Strange uncensored

It’s a new week and I feel confident enough to express myself in ways that I see fit. The first order of business is to republish Friday’s censored Blog with the same one except this time I’m just going to let it all hang out. No seven second delay for me . If you take offense, so be it. I’m not going to lose any sleep over it. With out further ado here is Friday’s Blog again, unplugged.


I stepped out yesterday to get some milk and what do I see but this woman with huge piles of paperwork we're talking massive mounds of brochures, giving financial advice to passing strangers. So I asked her if I could get a brochure as well as her opinion too, and she tells me to just get in line and she’ll take care of me. I say, Wow! That’s great. But I don’t have any cash. She says that’s ok because she’s just giving advice for free.

Well if it’s free advice then I want a piece of that action. Because I won’t pay to get advice no matter how little it costs. I tell you people, this girl knew what she was doing. She was artful in the skill of dollar cost averaging, and playful when it came to portfolios. I got the best financial advice I’d ever had.

In fact, after she had finished giving me advice I was so excited I turned around and made a deposit right into my RSP. I thanked her for giving me so much relief. I then asked her If I could come back later and bring my girlfriend. I said she'd like some advice too. She told me that she loved to give advice to women also. What a fantastic person.

I'm !@$#%$^(* sorry Ok!

I realize I have really let the expletives fly this week and perhaps angered the family crowd. Today I wish to make amends by publishing my Blog with the help of the good people at Net Nanny by providing a seven second delay. Here goes....

I stepped out yesterday to get some @#$% and what do I see but this woman with huge ^%$#%# we're talking massive mounds of $^%$. Giving *(&^&$@# to passing strangers. So I asked her if I could get @#$@^ as well as ^$%^$## too?

She tells me to just get in line and she’ll take care of me. I say %^#%# That’s great. But I don’t have any cash. She says that’s ok because she’s just giving &^$%#$# for free. Well if it’s free ^$%#$# then I want a piece of that action. Because I won’t pay to get $%^## no matter how little it costs.

I tell you people this #%#&#& knew what she was doing She was artful in the skill of %$%#$# and playful when it came to #$##&#. I got the best #^&#&% I’d ever had. In fact, after she had finished giving me $#%$%, I was so excited I turned around and #%&%# right into my $%*&$.

I thanked her for giving me so much relief. I then asked her If I could come back later and bring my girlfriend. I said she'd like some %^&*(% too. She told me that she loved to give $%^*$%$ to women also. What a fantastic $%*$*%$.

Jetsgone

It seems that Jetsgo is the newest casualty of the Canadian airways, joining the defunct Air Canada....no wait they’re still in business. They only act like they’ve ceased all operations. Must be the "Don’t give a shit" attitude? You can read about Jetsgo’s tail spin here.

Never let it be said that I didn’t try to do my part to help all those poor people stranded on the cusp of another March break. Here are alternate ways of transportation to get you to the sunny south. You're welcome.

It’s the smell of reverence....really

Some of you may know my views on spending 10 grand on a pretzel or a half eaten taco that looks like a deity. Some of you may not but can make an educated guess. However, I will tell you, if worship could be like this I’d be signing up faster than you could say, "Eyebrows for wizards," or "Chainsaws for ankles," or "fingers for backgammon," but I digress. Just go here and see what I mean.

If only religion was this much fun we’d all be "PRAISING JE-SUS!"

Fighting the computer bug

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I'll huff and I'll puff and I'll....gimme a drink Jimmy

It’s rip-off Wednesday, St. Pat’s piss-up is just around the corner, the Mayor of Mitchieville is on the mend and the smell of Irish car bombs linger in the air. Co-winky-dink? I think not!

There’s very little time left to go out and get one of these babies. I’m talking about the inflatable pub. It comes in two sizes, Large and Leprechaun, and fits neatly into your own backyard. You have your choice of whiskey, a manual "Irish for Dummies", and four burly Micks that will start a fight at your convenience. Now you can wake up at home and yell out, "Hey! Wha-happen?" instead of crying out from the unforgiving bar floor in a cocktail of sawdust, peanut shells, and regurgitated kidney pie.

Inflatable pub 

Apparently I’m a corporate whore

I get into my blog today and there are all these little underlined words on my pages. I’m like "What the hell," so I click on one and it takes me to a site that starts pitching cars at me. "Wo" I say, "I didn’t authorize this insanity," I might have even uttered the word, "Fuck" under my breath. Someone or something has hijacked my site and turned me into a corporate whore.
Then I go to Mitchieville to bring the Mayor some chicken soup and "muddafucka" He’s been made into a corporate whore as well. In fact this Blogarrhea is everywhere just like the frickin’ flu.

It may be just a new update that has been downloaded to my computer and I’m the only one seeing it but it is disconcerting. In the event that it's not and you also see these annoying highlights when you surf...please... Let’s do each other a favour out there. Avoid these damn road blocks promising better education, cars, cheap vacations, on line casinos, penis enlargements and higher vocabulary. Blog safely people. Otherwise you might report to your Blog one day and find emoticons everywhere marking the end of each passage you write. Come on let’s all be different so we can be more like each other.

Die mehr Dinge ändern das mehr, das sie das gleiche bleiben!

Law & Blogger

I was going to deliver another episode of As the Blog Turns today, however, in homage to yesterday’s rant I thought I’d do something different.

Law & Blogger
In the criminal court justice system, there are the innocent victims and then there are the devious fucks. This is their story. (Plunk! plunk!)

(A police station somewhere in the mid-west 5:00 PM central time)

Taylor: "Whatcha got Murph?"
Murphy: "Picked this guy up." (Murph points to accused with his thumb), "He was running from a mail truck with something under his arm."
Taylor: "So you chased him and caught the bastard. Good! Mail tampering’s a felony my friend." (Taylor cuffs the assailant up side the head.)
Murphy: "Yeah people like you make me sick!"
Taylor: "Book em Murphy. Murder one."
Accused: "Murder One? You gotta be kidding? I only stole the contents of a package."
Taylor: "That’s too bad because on Law & Blogger we only book Murder One."
Accused: "I want my lawyer."
Taylor: "That’s a good idea. Murphy bring his lawyer in and book him too. Murder One."
Accused: "But... but... but..."
Murphy: "Don’t worry. You’ll have plenty of time to advertise your butt in prison."

(Plunk! Plunk!)

Monday morning rant

Is it any wonder that the Mail industry is slowly dying? Mailing shit Internationally is such a hassle anymore. You have to describe the package contents, you have to put contact phone numbers of the sender and recipient, you have to sign a waiver for your first born, give urine samples. In the shadow of the world we now live in this is the sad fact. However, it is a great vehicle for the devious fucks who want to steal shit from you.

There, right in front of them, is all the information of the package contents. You might as well ring the fuckin’ dinner bell. "Come and get Y’all." Such is my situation as I and the addressee are still recovering from a massive headache of a package that I sent out to LA 10 days ago that arrived destroyed with most of the contents missing. Everyone is upset and the post office and customs end up looking like a bunch of clowns in the process.

And for what? Some cackling idiot who’s blowing dust off a turn table to play his illgotten booty?
Is it any wonder that terrorists send such volatile materials through the mail? They probably had something ripped off at one time or another in the same fashion I just described, by some cowardly mail thief and hope that they get the bastard.

So enjoy your five finger discount, asshole. The next package you try to snatch may be your last.

Blog Division finals are set

The final eight are set as Dazzlingprincess rolled over Disbdatruth 7-1 in Saturday's Blog Arena of Death yawner. In fact there was more excitement in the stands with the tight security and unruly Soccer Moms. I would have rather drank cricket piss through a sock full of sand than watch this one as Dazzlingprincess stormed out to an early 5-0 lead and never looked back easily defending last year’s North Division title. The Blog wars now take a short hiatus until the Division Finals roll late next week.

Battle of the blog heats up

Security will be tight this Saturday as Disbdatruth will take on the defending champion Dazzlingprincess in the North Blog Semi-final. Officials can not afford another incident like the one that lead to chaos at the end of the semi-final game between two South Central Division teams. They have tripled the protection for this weekend match up. The game in question caused the death of one official and left another with an ingrown toenail and a slight headache.

Funeral marred by violence

Lars Koulderfrump, the official who died horribly when his car exploded after a Blog Arena of Death match last Sunday, was to be laid to rest yesterday morning. However, the hearse that was transporting his remains burst into flames after yet another explosion. No one else was injured by the detonation.

Koulderfrump was criticized by the Najaf-abad team after several of his controversial calls eventually cost them the game as they lost to Exoticwaverley 3-2 in the South Central Division Semi-final. Investigation is underway to determine who is behind the car bombings. Koulderfrump’s cremains will now be enurned at a later date.

Rock it man.

I’m a big Family Guy fanatic. Ok you got me; I’m a huge Family Guy fanatic. Since they are so heavily based on parody, I always wondered where they got the idea when Stewie sings Rocket Man. Well— I was surfing around yesterday and found the original clip. William Shatner did it at the 78' sci-fi awards. Now you can compare the two versions and wonder why you never became an actor when there are so many shitty ones out there.
Spock– wha-t are– you wai-ting– for? Go here and fuck the green bitch Jim.

Reading into it

Today is World Book Day. The purpose of it apparently, is to tell someone about a book that you enjoyed and would recommend. I don’t read much because...I NEVER LEARNED TO READ....(just kidding)... mainly I spend most of my time trying to write. However, there is one book that friends tell me is quite funny and an enjoyable read. So I’ll take their word for it and pass it along to you. You can get more info on it here. After all the Da Vinci Code has soared in popularity mainly by word of mouth...so you never know.

Picking the bones of one of my own

It’s Rip-off Wednesday and since the Mayor of Mitchieville is feeling a little under the weather. Actually he’s a lot under the weather. In fact, he is all catheters, projectile vomit and beeping machines. The priest has been there twice this week to administer last rites for gawdsake.

I’d thought I’d take the opportunity to wish him a speedy recovery and at the same time rip-off something from his site. A while back he had a link to something that made me howl. I couldn’t get it out of my head. It made me think and analyze and want to see it again, the same way Pulp Fiction or Seven did. It’s now been a few weeks and yet I’m still all shits and giggles when I look at it. You should too if you haven’t already. Go here and you'll be pissing out your ass in no time.

Again with the shameless self promotion

It’s the beginning of another month and one step closer to the backyard showing signs of life and looking less like a Columbian drug-lord's warehouse. Since I have not done anything of this nature for a while, I thought I’d start off each month with some shameless self promotion. This will be an exercise to remind me that I still love to write and there is some purpose in it which is yet hidden from me.

As I seek representation , I need to fill the gaps and at least give my self some semblance of forward progression. You don’t get that so much from form letters of rejection. Now I’m not sniveling in a "poor me," context here. Remember I was in the music business and believe me if I couldn’t take the set backs I would have left the cake burning in the kitchen long ago.

Maybe rejection is the wrong message? It’s not so much a statement of declination as it is encouragement to seek representation elsewhere. Apparently Agents and Publishers just love it when they’re wrong and can boast about the one that got away. "Yuppers, that John Grisham, we knew he had the potential but we just couldn’t fit him into the roster."

I understand the publishing industry is no less competitive and exhausting than any other form of entertainment.However, it is a place where I am happiest. So here is a snippet from my first novel that is for the hundred or so fellow bloggers who travel here weekly and a reminder to myself to continue on in the belief. The snow will melt one day.

Excerpt: Chapter 4

I’d always thought I was destined for success, and not a life of mediocrity. I had brushed shoulders with some greats in the music business, but I’d never achieved the top drawer. I’m not talking greatness in the sense of a dictator who stands before thousands screaming in Spanish or German, and plotting world domination. En contraire. I wanted a lesser degree of notoriety, like the boy who helps the old lady across the street, or rescues the neighbor’s cat from the clutches of a tree’s upper branches, a good Samaritan type of success. To get to the point where I lost my anonymity or my ability to even wander out to the curb with that week’s garbage without the constant hassle of the autograph seeker or the blinding flash of paparazzi seemed too remote, too Ozzy Osbourne, if-you-will, and not for me. If I was going to start blowing holes in televisions with a Magnum .45 and crapping my diaper ever hour on the hour then it would be due to senility and incontinence, and not anything I would want to achieve musically.

I had taken the job at Ultimate Produce with the best intentions, to create much needed cash flow for my stagnant music career. Then one day, like a butterfly I’d be ready to emerge from my pupa stage. I’d cast off my chrysalis, and soar into a new life of financial comfort, and many, many women without the Ozzy flamboyance.

It was tough to watch, day by day, as my dream, my vision, my slice of nirvana, slowly slipped from my grasp, with the flat-lining, stoppage of the heart that occasionally needed the paddles. Clear!

Gone were the days of playing cover material in dark, beer slogging, smoke-filled hovels. In towns with one street, on streets with no names, to people whose names I never knew, or cared to remember, if I had known them. A time in my life reduced to memories filled with what ifs, and should haves. But the more time I spent on the road the more I felt like an intruder in a domain where I had no business. A menace that was five minutes away from being lynched, and strung up to the nearest back-ho to be dragged, (albeit...very slowly), to my death.

Perhaps a head stone engraved with the words, "He was just trying to entertain . . . ya Bastards!" would be the only epitaph marking my shallow, freshly dug grave. A grave where the sunlight gently dances through the leaves of towering maples, upon the many bouquets, adorning the ground where I lay. A gentle south westerly breeze caressing their petals. My favorite music playing quietly in the background. My fellow band members, dressed in black as usual, standing around quietly sobbing and drinking, or drinking and sobbing. How, were they going to replace their friend, their fallen companion, their musical sibling, with another bass player before next week’s gig in Blind River? A vivacious blonde girl in tight jeans, with breasts heaving, throws herself on the mound of earth, wailing uncontrollably about the loss of the best lover she has ever had. Her hard perky nipples barely concealed beneath the thread she calls a top, ready to pop out of her, . . . well . . . it is, . . . after all . . my vision.


For more information on this work go to: http://ca.geocities.com/homer3d@rogers.com/universe.html?24,38

For information on "The Limits of Respectability," go to: http://ca.geocities.com/homer3d@rogers.com/index.html