Skip navigation

Category Archives: me

“I can make the runner stumble,
I can make the fire grow dark,
And I can make every time and the son of a whistle,
and I can make all the the stadiums rock!

…and I’m never gonna make it like you do.
Making love out of nothing at all….”

Air Supply
Making Love Out Nothing At All

(No Google search for lyrics on this. I winged it….sorry.)

I was married during the Reagan administration. We were taught to be polite.

But when someone at a Burger King drive through is told to pull up because their specialty order will take a few extra minutes….it doesn’t mean that they should pull up by a mere two feet….thus-by blocking the person with the regular order in.

Honk.

Honk.

Honk, honk!

(Car moves up and lets me out of the way of his fat ass.)

(Asshole.)

Cripes.

Idiot.

Anyway…

“She keeps Moet et Chandon
In her pretty cabinet
‘Let them eat cake’, she says,
Just like Marie Antoinette.
A built-in remedy,
For Kruschev and Kennedy,
At anytime an invitation
You can’t decline…”

QUEEN
KILLER QUEEN

I was standing in the checkout line today. I was buying some Chuckles and milk. I had to be at work at three. It was two forty-five. The woman in front of me was taking her good sweet time producing the payment for her choices.

I looked down at a refridgerated case next to the cashier line.

I saw some bottles that were emblazoned with the words: “Moet et Chandon”.

All of a sudden, finger-snaps started playing my head.

Sonofabitch. That’s what Freddie Mercury was singing about the whole time! I heard the words a million times before but couldn’t understand them.

I never knew what the hell he was saying!

Moet et Chandon!….Champagne!…of course!!

$53 bucks a bottle!….shuhh.

Just gimme my Chuckles and milk.

…and you learn something new everyday, don’t ya?

Moet et Chandon.

Who knew?

Anyway….

“Do you like green eggs and ham?
I do not like them, Sam-I-am.
I do not like green eggs and ham!
Would you like them here or there?
I would not like them here or there.
I would not like them anywhere.
I do so like green eggs and ham!
Thank you! Thank you,
Sam-I-am!….”


Dr. Seuss
Green Eggs And Ham

I went to the public library today. I know that this is earth shattering news to some of you. Me going to the library and all. I was pretty stunned myself actually. The reason why is simply this: They had amnesty this week. I am not altogether sure if it had something to do as a precursor to Obama’s impending thing on illegals or if it was simply to get asses in the seats, as it were.

It was painless enough. I walked in and told them I was a wanted man and that I was there to turn myself in. They asked for my address as I stood holding out my hands so they could cuff me and process me. I just dropped that dime on myself. Don’t do the crime if you can’t do the time type thingy. They looked at me like I was an idiot,….which, of course, I am.

The Librarian pulled up my rap sheet and read the charges: $11.00 in fines. I began to fidget. I began to sweat. $11.00 is a heavy rap, man. That’s almost a felony in library speak. (I just wished I had counsel at that point.)

She cheerfully told me that I was the lightest pardon of the day. She had processed over $2,000 in fines in the previous four hours. I breathed a sigh of relief. She wiped my bill clean. I was a free man.

I told her that I lost my library card about three years ago and would really like one back. She was more than happy to issue me a new one. She even pulled out a bunch of templates that I could choose from. There was one that looked like a Starbucks card. It had emblazoned on it: “Borrow, Return, Repeat”.

I told her I would take that one because it had commands on it instead of fallow suggestions. I need to be reminded,….because I’m a fugitive from justice…..”right now!”

(Gil Garcetti. L.A. District attorney during the OJ flight from justice.)

I paid my meager dollar for the new card and went in search of items that I could brazenly “just take”. I felt like I was wilding. I was on the hunt,…and woe to anyone who was in my way whilst I did it.

I found a CD entitled, “Neil Diamond’s Greatest Hits” and a DVD entitled, “The Smothers Brothers: Season Three”! I can’t believe all those idiots who were just sittin’ there on the “free” internet just missed these gems! What a bunch of three-toed sloths.

image

I grabbed my stash and headed for the self checkout! I checked my items out, got a printed receipt and just walked out the door,….un-molested. Not a word was spoken as I brazenly just walked out. Babies.

The library is like Neville Chamberlain. If you hold their head in the toilet long enough, they will cave.

Appeasement, my ass.

I think the next course of action is to order up a bunch of “Project: Runway” and just not pick it up when it comes in…..

image

Anyway,…..

“I’m all lost in the supermarket,
I can no longer shop happily,
I came in here for that special offer,
A guaranteed personality…”

The Clash
Lost In The Supermarket

Hell has indeed frozen over.

Lebron James returned to Cleveland, Tommy Ramone died…and I found myself standing in a “Whole Foods” outlet.

image

Yes, my friends, hell has frozen over.

Whole Foods is this place where you go when you want to pay expensive prices for food that tastes rather bland. That’s not a knock on the store. I think the tragedy at play here is that I was actually in it without really needing to be.

Given a choice between a Big Mac and some Arthur Treacher’s fried fish and chips (with hushpuppies), I would enthusiastically take them both and think it absolutely normal to do so.

Let’s face it. I was in there under duress, OK? There. I said it. Someone made me go there with them.

image

Here’s the thing I want to underscore here. What you have in there are millennial hippies. They work there. They are patrons of the place. Some of the guys that work there have that Amish beard thing goin’ on. They wear the color tan. Do you know what I’m talking about? Sometimes they wear polo shirts with striped colors,….but the strange thing about that? The colors of the stripes seem amazingly dull. They have pierced ears and semi long hair. They no doubt ride their vintage Schwinn’s to work when the weather is conducive to it.

My question is simply this:

Is this what the millennial hippies of 2014 aspire to in their walk of life? To sell and buy over-priced bland food?

image

If it is, that’s not necessarily a bad goal to to have. I am totally down if they are happy at their vocation. I really am. Not too many people find the work that they want to do these days. (If they can find work at all)

The thing is, they looked happy. Probably more happy than I look at my job. So, in essence, I was a bit jealous of them.

That’s alright. I don’t eat healthy as a habit. Being a Teamster, eating healthy is somewhat akin to a cat taking a bath. I would rather die than do it and you will get the same ear-splitting histrionics out of me as you would a cat with an impending water bath. Ugliness afoot all around.

It was just a dashed odd observation, that’s all.

They had everything there however. I’ll give them that. They even had,…what is it?….organic beer there?

image

It was then that I felt as if I was in a museum. I looked in awe, studied it and knew it was well out of my price range,…so I better not touch it. But it sure was interesting to look at,….knowing I could never have it….by choice and by pocketbook.

image

It was an odd day, to say the least.

Right before we went in there, we had just dined at a place that served us something called a “crab-stack” and “Creme cilantro chicken with red-skinned potatoes with roasted corn and cheese”.

imageimage

There’s the old adage: “Don’t go shopping hungry. You spend less if you eat first.”

This is the one exception to the rule. Even if I was hungry, I wouldn’t have bought anything in the place.

My other half, however,….did.

With extreme predjudice.

Anyway,…

“Got no woman,
or a steady job.
Feeling like a cowboy
and looking like a slob….”


The Rutles
Living In Hope

Hey. What’s goin’ on?

When it comes to my job, I thought that I had seen it all…but no.

This was a classic.

The other day when I was rushing’ around to go to work, I hastily packed a lunch. It was three baby back ribs from Aldi’s. They were leftover from the weekend. They were pretty good ribs considering that I only paid 6 bucks for an entire slab of ’em. They were pre-cooked and bathed in BBQ sauce and were just the thing to hit the spot at 8 pm on a summer evening.

I had made 5 ribs the night before for my midnight meal and these three were the leftovers from that dinner.

Anyway, as I was searching the cupboards to find a container, I ran into a small snag. I couldn’t put it in my pink tupperware bowl because the ribs themselves were too large to fit in this particular round container. I moved on to a disposable Ziploc container that I had bought at Aldi’s… one of those clear things with the blue lid….this proved to be too large and would take up too much real estate in my backpack.

I then found a smaller Ziploc container and this proved to be too small as well. (But the ribs would “go” into the container-with a little force-so this was to be the container that I would use.)

I shoved the ribs into it, got the lid on it, threw it into my backpack and headed off to work.

I went into work, put my lunch into the fridge and set about my day.

At 8 pm, (which is our union sanctioned lunchbreak) I went to get the ribs. As I was walking over to the microwave I couldn’t help but notice that the container seemed a tad light.

That was weird.

I opened the container and was distressed to find that there were only two ribs in it. I stood there looking at it for a minute or two…because my brain was desperately trying to process what had taken place between the hours of 3:30 and 8…

That someone actually stole one rib from my lunch.

Paul (the guy I eat my lunch with) came over to stare into my twisted container with me after he noticed my facial distress from afar. I told him that somebody actually ate one of the ribs out of the container. He started laughing and when I didn’t start laughing with him, he really began to believe that I was actually serious.

I said, “Dude,…I put three bones in this thing at three o’clock and now there’s two”.

He looked at the container, which was all bent and and kind of twisted from me trying to get the three bones in there, and he even deduced that it looked like it held somethin’ more than the two bones that currently resided.

We stood there looking at each other as to try and make sense of the current critical situation.

Is it possible that I was mistaken?

No!

I transferred three bones into three different containers before I left the house! There was no question that there were three bones in there!

And now there was two!

Now, since the thought that someone pawed over my lunch was just too un-appetizing for me to comprehend, I took the remaining bones and threw them out and sat and pouted while Paul ate his boloney and ketchup sandwich.

Not much was said during our lunch break…but the latent underlying issue was still there.

Who…would actually go into someone else’s lunch…and eat just one spare-rib?

I knew it wasn’t Paul because…well…it’s Paul.

Paul doesn’t go in the fridge cause it’s a dark and scary place. I don’t like to go in the fridge because it’s a dark and scary place…but since meat has this “thing” about being refrigerated, I have to put my lunch in there.

I really don’t think this was a personal affront because my name wasn’t on the container and no one saw me put it in there. I think this was just someone who was hungry and decided to rummage aound in the fridge to see what there was to gnosh.

Isn’t that a bit scary?

How many times have I put something in there that I DIDN’T know was pawed over before lunchtime? If I brought spaghetti, how would I know that someone didn’t stand there eating it with his or her own bare hands?

Is this an isolated incident or is this something that is running rampant?

You can’t tell management about something like this either. They would just look at you like you were crazy…or laugh…or quickly dismiss it out of hand because they actually KNOW who did it and are working hard at trying to protect the guilty party. Trying to protect one of their own, as it were.

Paul speculated that it might be the president of the company.

I dismissed it because the president of the company, on that particular day, was wearing a powder blue shirt and no one in their right mind would eat BBQ spareribs while wearing a powder blue shirt. Too much room for error.

He agreed.

No, I think this was someone “on the floor”, as it were. Someone who knew the inner-machinations and the dietary habits of the people and their environs. Someone who has access to the fridge and could go in there unfettered. Someone who could pretend like they’re looking for his or her own lunch when, in reality, they’re actually just standing there pawing over and eating other people’s food.

This is a guy who could blend into the background. A guy who would say “Sup” as you walked by. A guy who can strike and disappear.

I walked around the plant looking in the various garbage cans placed hither and yon…to see if I could find a discarded rib-bone perched majestically upon a mound a refuse…but it was to no avail.

This kind of put a damper on the rest of the night…for Paulie as well. He went over to the bulletin board and pulled down a memo from the president. It was about some stolen material and what they’re going do when they get their hands on the guilty party.

He xeroxed it and, on the copy, crossed out the part where it says “stolen copper braiding” and wrote in “stolen rib-bone”.

Even though I laughed, I was still kind of depressed about it.

(pause)

I just feel so violated.

Anyway…

“Sometimes it’s hard to believe,
That you’re never coming back to me.
I’ve had this dream that you’d always be by my side.
Oh, I could have died.

But now I see that you’re so happy.
And ooh, it just sets me free.
And I’d like to see,
Us as good of friends,
As we used to be,….”

Wilson Phillips
You’re In Love

I had to make the move today. It had to be done. I hate starting over but it’s a fact of life. It happens to the best of us, I guess.

I had to change the pass-codes on all of my devices today. I couldn’t bear typing in that same four-digit number again. Today was the day that it had to end.

I might miss 7734 in the future. I don’t know. The number has served me well since it’s been with me. It’s nothing against the number itself, of course. It’s just that the chemistry between us has grown stagnant in recent days. It was always there for me when I needed it….like when I would be standing in a checkout and there would be someone taking their good sweet time in front of me. 7734 was always there to help open up the wonders of electronic connectivity to the world that was just beyond where I currently stood.

It’s not 7734. It’s me and my selfishness that is to blame. I know this. But it’s better to have been served by 7734 than not at all! I would’ve missed so much of the world had it not been for 7734

I loved 7734.

image

There were also those great instances in which 7734 would actually let me by-pass itself. It gave me the freedom to soar without choking me with inane legalities. If I ever wanted to use the calculator or the camera on the fly, 7734 was always fine with that. If I had to check under the hood on a rainy night, 7734 was there with the flashlight. That number always knew what was important and what wasn’t.

7734 always knew what was best for me.

If I wanted to access my personal information, it made sure I had it’s proper sequence before I did….and that’s ok. I trusted 7734 to always look out for my best interests all the time. 7734 always made damn sure I had it’s number before it would let me flit Higgledy-Piggledy onto Facebook, YouTube and even this blog you’re now currently reading….providing that you even got this far into this post.

(Which, by now, is pretty much a miracle in and of itself…..T’a’int it?)

I loved 7734….but I had to move on. Our relationship had become somewhat trite and banal. It was time for a change. I’m the bad guy in this scenario. I don’t deny it. I just had to walk away. Some of you may call me a coward,…I suppose I deserve that.

Anyway,…

“The grocery store’s the super mart,
uh huh
Little girls still break their hearts,
uh huh
And men still keep on marching off to war,
Electrically they keep a baseball score,…”


The Beat Goes On
Sonny And Cher

‘Tis the ending of another banal 7 day week. Nothing portends evil like the waking moment of a clammy and cold October Monday morning,…but, alas, that is a mere two days away and I have less on my plate tonight then I did when I started this odyssey in the early afternoon hours of this particular day.

I had to run to the bank and was forced to tarry there (far longer than I wanted to) due to the fact that it took four tellers to attend to the man that was parked outside in the drive-through,….no doubt attending to multiple (and possibly questionable) transactions from the comfort and safety of his own vehicle.

I was patently ignored. The man who actually got out of his vehicle and took the time to walk into said bank,…was, indeed, put on hold in favor of the ne’er-do-well who thought it perfectly ok to not leave his vehicle whilst conducting MULTIPLE transactions.

After my business there was complete, I motored over to my other bank so as to withdraw some farthings that might be needed during the course of this fine autumnal evening.

I withdrew the 20 bucks from the ATM and went on my way.

Has my life really sunk to this? Go to the bank, pay bills, go get a 20 spot that I can’t afford and then get a cheap sandwich to lunch upon while I work my increasingly boring job?

That’s all fine and good. I don’t care. I pay the bills and keep food on the table. I should be grateful for that,…not being in the red and all,…it’s just the dashed balmy-ness of it all.

I will do something crazy here and just take a random picture of something. How’s that?

image

My Paul McCartney bass laying on dirty socks and underwear near the dresser in my room. That was pretty exciting, wasn’t it? (I actually left it there because I will be recording a soundtrack for a movie on Sunday during the Steelers/Browns game.)

I did a list of ailments this week. (I bet you’re glad your reading this post, aren’t you?) I have determined that my left forefinger hurts sometimes and that my jaw pops. The jaw has never done that before. The finger comes and goes,…but the jaw has never done that before. It only pops at work. Not when I get home. I have to wonder if it’s stress or something. It kinda hurts when it does that….I don’t know.

I think the root of the problem is that I miss the 1970s. I am not old. I’m just nostalgic. I love nostalgia…but that’s for another post, I suppose.

Nothing like that Farrah Fawcett poster though.

image

Beyonce has nothing on her. Beyonce struts her ass all over the stage and then lights up the word “Feminist”.

image

Yeah.

Uhhh,…

LOLOLOLOLOLOLOLOL

Yeah, right. Really?

Gwenyth Paltrow just cooed to Obama that he was “so handsome that she can’t speak properly”.

(Pause)

Ok. Now how many of you think I’m a boring old fart because I miss the 70’s?

Anyway,….

So on we go,…
His welfare is of my concern.
No burden is he to bear,
We’ll get there.

For I know,
He would not encumber me.
He ain’t heavy, he’s my brother….”


The Hollies
He Ain’t Heavy, He’s My Brother

Rep. Steve Stockman (R-Texas) announced on Thursday that he has filed a resolution directing the House sergeant-at-arms to “arrest Lois Lerner for contempt of Congress” over the IRS targeting scandal.

Stockman said in a statement that asking the U.S. Department of Justice to prosecute Lerner for “admittedly illegal activity” is a “joke.” Instead, the Republican said it is up to the U.S. House to “uphold the rule of law and hold accountable those who illegally targeted American citizens for simply having different ideas than the President.”

Under the proposed resolution, Lerner would be held in a Washington, D.C., jail and would be given access to an attorney and all her constitutional rights.

All her Constitutional rights. She has access to all her Constitutional rights. How patently ironic it is, isn’t it? The same document that she wants to destroy is the one that she needs to hide behind. I would love to be a fly on that wall when they come to take her. (Which they probably never will, of course. To arrest means to charge. To charge means to pardon and that’s what she will undoubtedly get from the Obama administration.)

But!….on the flip side of that? I would love to see her in handcuffs and sitting in the back of a police car just once! That would be the ultimate photo-op for the up coming mid-term TV commercials.

But that’s not what I wanted to talk about here. I really wanted to talk about Lois in a more serious and refined manner. The fact of the matter is that Lois has more pressing problems than simply being arrested by Congress for targeting the tea-party. This revelation delves into absolute madness, my friends.

The thing I want to talk about is the Lerner doppleganger factor. This can potentially have a damaging effect on her future career choices if it ever comes to light….if she ever sees the light of day again and in the highly improbable chance that she may ever have a career again.

I am speaking, of course, about the Golem factor.

The year? 1920! The country? Germany! The star? Paul Wegener! The Movie? The GOLEM!!!

(I have to point out that the comparisons are not for the faint of heart.)

It can also be said that the Golem was actually a good guy….unlike Lerner who,…umm,….how shall I say this?

“ISN’T”

Be that as it may, let’s just take a look at this incredible doppelganger freak of nature, shall we?

imageimage
Lois Lerner (left) The Golem (right)

The hairstyle is almost exactly the same, isn’t it, kids? Freaky, to say the least. The golem looks a little more approachable however.

Moving on….

imageimage
The Golem,…I mean Lois Lerner (left) The Golem (right)

They both carry purses in their left hands. That means they both must be left handed! Dopplegangers who have the same primary hand! What are the odds of that?!!…and they wear the same jacket!!!

imageimage
Lois Lerner (left) The Golem (right)

They both have a look of defiance on their face here. Lois’s defiance is at Congress,…like a petulant spoiled child….The Golem’s look says, “You want to get it on, you stupid democrats? I’ll smack the taste outta your mouth. Bring it on you punks!”

Geez. You can hardly tell the two apart. They’re brothers from different mothers.

Anyway,….

“So take the photographs, and still-frames in your mind.
Hang it on the shelf of good health and good time.
Tattoo’s of memories and dead skin on trial.
For what it’s worth, it was worth all the while.
It’s something unpredictable, but in the end it’s right,
I hope you had the time of your life….”


Green Day
Good Riddance (The Time Of Your Life)

image

Know what I miss?

Motorcycle cops. They just don’t exist anymore, do they? They’d pull up next to you at a stoplight and then they would look to the right or left and then give you one of those silent, almost imperceptible nods as if to say, “Hey. What’s goin’ on, man?”…..from behind mirrored sunglasses and from behind a mustache. I miss that.

image

Now, our police are militarized. They drive tanks and Humvees. They need them to carry stun guns and AR-15s and that kinda shit…..They’re not as personable when they drive those. They still look to the right and to the left,…it’s just that,…umm,…you don’t.

image

Know what I miss?

Carburetors. That finely designed and fragile fuel-injection artifact that could take all sorts of heavy-duty abuse. Nothing could be better on a frigid winter morning than to walk out of your house with a freakin’ can of ether in one hand and a freakin’ “Goody” comb in the other. You pop the hood to your Chevelle, take off the BIG, ROUND AIR CLEANER, pop that rocker back and spray that ether into your carb. You stick the ass end of the “Goody” comb in to hold the rocker in place, jump into your car and fire it up, replace the air filter and you’re on your way, baby. (This action, btw, would take 15 seconds.)

imageimage

Now, we have the E-checks. There’s a computer in your car that you are REGULATED to have checked (at certain intervals) to see if there is any hi-jinks going on in the car when the EPA isn’t looking. This organization’s sole purpose is to be a watch dog over your automobile. If they detect ether, you don’t get your stickers, Mister!! And you will pay a mechanic dearly as penance.

image

Know what I miss? T.V’s (Television’s)”The Flying Nun”. Sally Field was so great as that tiny troublemaking nun that could fly when she lifted up her little nun,…habit,…hat…thing. I miss that. She would be shooting marbles with dirty little orphans and, at a moment’s notice, she would be flying through mountains to get to the scene of some untowardly actions so she can single-handedly take down a Peruvian drug lord. I miss that. I miss “The Flying Nun”.

image

Now we have The Little Kardashian Sisters Of The Poor doing sex on the internet with Vegas taking odds on how long one or two of the marriages would last along with battles in court to keep “The Flying Nun” off the air in re-runs because the atheists are supposedly “offended” by her presence on THEIR air waves.

image

Know what I miss?

The Clash. The only band that mattered and who sweated onstage to make a living and a change. These guys played Bonds in NYC for two weeks straight because the promotor “oversold” all of the shows. They wanted to honor every last ticket sold so they stayed until every last fan was played to. (1982)

image

Now we have Justin Bieber and Miley Cyrus “who just don’t like going to work”,….as said so very appropriately by Sir Paul McCartney. They were chastised by him! Chastised, I say! Chastised by Sir Paul himself!!

imageimage

Know what I miss?

I miss the days when you could actually buy vinyl. The art work on the album cover was always second to none. Hell, I miss the days when you could actually buy a cassette tape. Hell, I even miss the days when you could buy a CD!

image

Now we have downloadable music that can’t be burned to a CD and can only be listened to on certain “devices” that you have to prove you own before you can do it.

Know what I miss?

Everything.

Anyway,…

“So I walk up on high,
And I step to the edge
To see my world below.
And I laugh at myself,…”


Collective Soul
The World I Know

What does it mean when I wake up and have visual flashes that I am falling off a sky-scraper or out of a plane? It’s like vertigo, and I always wake up that way now. Any idea?

image

Anyway,….