Ok.... just getting caught up. Things have been weird lately... and busy. The Boy was here for a wedding....and it made for a crazy, fun weekend, the daughter is fighting City Hall on Bogus Parking tickets. I fought off a bit of flu.... and the political mess just keeps getting messier. I did think of voting early and then just ignoring all the ads and fuss... but that would kind of like ignoring Thanksgiving by having a huge Turkey dinner in October. Would rather take the fun out of it.... and besides.... I truly do like going to a polling place in November.
Well, anyways.... see, what went down is good old Larry from WOODGATE'S VIEW gave me this spiffy keen Sunshine award.... kind like one of those, gosh, I certainly like to stop at your blog thingees that used to go around . they seem to have fallen out of fashion which is too bad. They told you a bit more about the writer you are reading... a little bit of aknowledgement... plus a good heads up for others to find some nice blogs. OK...I am supposed to mention a few things about me... and then pass the award along as well as mention other blogs that are good... in my view. So here are a few answered questions.....
Favorite Color: angst. Angst fits in with absolutely everything in your wardrobe. Plus it is usually permanent press. I am also fond of melancholy. It fits my wardrobe well, too. Favorite Animal: three toed Sloth. Any animal named after my favorite sin has gotta be good. Plus three toes only makes it easy to clip one's nails. Billa Lang is also a favorite animal, though I will never clip his toenails.
Favorite Number: 14.... cause thirteen is unlucky and fifteen would require me to take of at least one shoe and sock. Makes sense, right.
Favorite Drink: hmmm...right now? Beer. Currently the Ranger IPA from New Belgium. But that could change with eht next glass.
Facebook or twitter: FB .....I have been told Twitter is weird and I should never never use it.
Passion: well, it used to be Nancy, then it was Kathy, then Suzanne, then another Kathy....then I lost track....it was all so long ago. Beer is better. Beer never divorces you and doesn't get upset if you don't rinse the glass well.
Giving or Receiving Gifts: well.... I give as good as I get... it just depends on how much money I have, and as lately that is very little.... I am lining up on the receiving side
Favorite Day: the one that is scrunched in there between sunday and monday Or is it the one between saturday and sunday. gees, that is a tough one. Of course, I am also fond of the day after Never.... which is when I pay bills.
Favorite Flower: whole wheat.
Favorite Food: Free. You just can't beat free food. But Cajun Meatloaf is right on up there....with roux gravy and pecan rice. Red beans &rice with smoked pork chops is pretty darn nice, too....oh oh oh.....and chicken Cordon Bleu and a side salad... and... well, beer is good food, too. oh oh oh... and food for thought is decent, specially with some Dijon and an apple salad.
... so that is that. Late, as usual, but very informing I am sure. Soon I will find a place to stick that award on my blog, but in the mean time truck on over to Larry's place; it is a nice place to be.
Now.... I was supposed to pass this award on to other's... but it seems, as it were, that most everyone I would give it to, has already received it ....... so...just scroll down my blog list and you are bond to find someone you will like.
Now... see, in the spirit of all that... I must mention Jean at SNORING DOG STUDIO
... cause there is a nifty little thread going on there about the Donald
Jean rather thinks.... and gees, she is rightie right as rain, that 'Trump' could very well be
a NOUN
or...
A VERB
As well as a nut case millionair-head.... well gosh.... I gotz inspired.... and added to the thread
SEE, like this:
-->
okjimm | October 26, 2012 at 11:28
am
//eventually going to be a verb and
a noun.// isn’t it already? Like, see,
“I would love to go out with you
Saturday, but I have to Trump my hair.” OR..
.” Sure, I will pay you… The Trump
is in the mail!” or…
“Don;t count your Trumps until they
are Booby-Hatched” Or, maybe…
“You can’t tell a Trump by his Birth
Certificate”
” A Trump and his money are parted
on the radical right”
” I would love to, Darling, but will
you Trump me in the morning?”
…o oh oh… this is too much fun. I
best take my medications and lay down….see, now I am thinking Shakespeare….
To be, or not to be: that is the
Trump:
Whether ’tis nobler in the mind to
suffer
The slings and arrows of outrageous
Trump,
Or to take arms against a sea of
Trumps,
And by opposing end them? To die: to
sleep;
No more; and by a sleep to say we
end
The heart-ache and the thousand
natural Trumps
That flesh is hair to,….
So... In the spirit that Larry is promoting..... I would like, well, or gosh, it would be nice.... if anyone would visit her space and do some leap-blogging and add to the thread.... you know it could be fun.... so.....have a little sunshine..... I am off for a beer.
the kids just break me up! It has been really really fun to have Bubba home for the weekend... will be sad when he gets back on the plane. He has some really talented friends. Hopefully one of them will help him get some work with film when he gets to LA early next month.
One of them did a little photo-shop of him..... and thought he looked a bit like Bill Cosby.... you decide....
.... except for the shorter hair.... and Max could never afford such a nice sweater. (nor keep it in such good condition)
.... Wonder Boy is flying in from Oregon for a long weekend. Having breakfast with him and the Wonder Girl.
....Cheese is on the menu.
Friday, October 12, 2012
YUPPERZ I watched the debate last night. Joe kinda slammed the 'New Young' Republican.... showing the spirit he had/has from way back.
Clearly pointed out that the 'Ryan(Romney) plan will still not disclose the "LOOP HOLES AND DEDUCTIONS" they want to use to BALANCE the budget. Vague and elusive.....that is the republican way. " I won't tell you what I think, because you really don't need to know".... seems to be the campaign strategy for the Romney team. Gees.... if you will not disclose information..... when you need to.... you are lying. It's that simple. It ain't goodam brain surgery, here. If you have sex with a woman, and tell her you have had a vasectomy when you haven't... that is lying. If you have sex and DO NOT tell your partner you have the CLAP when you do and know it...... THAT IS LYING TOO..... Romeny/Ryan have the equivalent of a sexual disease, and seriously if you vote for them.... boy you will be pissing blood and pain for the next four years!
Oh shit..... where's the meds?
In good news.... I went to Ann Coulter's page...... as long as I was thinking of diseases, see..... and well..... it seems to have a problem....must be a mucous discharge. I googled 'Ann Coulter Mucous Discharge'.... had better luck with Ann Coulet seeriously Deranged. Fun with Internet, huh?
..... anyways.... back to the bird story....
I think it was about 4:30 or so when I got up to search for Gomez.... big cup of coffee and a couple of hits of Gold Bud and I hit the streets agiain with the tin of pot seeds and the mirror and bell... started scrounging the neighbor at Dawn's Early Light..(used to be a strip club by that name, see... and boy..was it a nice place.) Anyways... in only a half hour I could hear him...chirping away " Hello! Hello! What a Good Bird!"... the normal drivel he would say plus some of the whistles I had taught him....that little bugger was in a tall hemlock... just a block from the house. He hadn't gotten far! I crept delicately to the tree... shook the tin of pot seeds, whistled a bit and called his name. There was silence. Then I spotted him, at the edge, peering out at me. I whistle again and shook the morror at him. The narcissist little shit fell for it! He flew down a lit on my finger! In a flash I pinched his feet so he could not escape and the palmed him in my fist to complete the capture. It was then that I noticed an old lady looking out at me from her porch...it was her tree, see. Now at five am...I must have kind of looked suspicious. My beard then was thick and black and the hair cascaded to my shoulders. There was a phone call to the police coming up soon. I acted quick though, fueled by early moring coffee and some really righteous Colombian Gold Bud. " Lady... I caught my Bird!" and held up the captured fugitive. I am not sure what she made of it all, but I got my ass back home as soon as possible.
Mission accomplished! and I had enough time to shower and met the guys for the Brewer game ride to Milwaukee! He was HOME! Ok.... this is when weird took over. See, after my shower I was rolling a couple of joints for the ride south, having a few puffs as I did. I had also slipped him a bud in his seed dish, figuring, " Oh, well, welcome back." I was also ranting on him... like, see, what a bad bird he was for flying off and how much I would have missed him and how lonely I would be without him.... ok...I was a young hippie talking to his bird...so what! But he came close to the edge of the cage, as if he was taking this all in, and being reflective about it.
Just when I was about ready to leave. he scratched his head with his feet, which is a really neat trick, you gotta admit, but don't try it. I did. Doesn't work. And then he wsaid.... "Sorry. Didn't mean to bum you out.
just remember though..
"If you are lonely when you're alone, you are in bad company."
... well boy, was I amazed....... listen I must finish this later.... got hit the social club at Oblios
Ain't no sunshine today. Rain and clouds and a feeling of creeping discontent. Romneystiltskin has revealed his plan.... he will 'balance' the budget by killing Muppets and defunding libraries and museums, the arts. Screw him. Tonight Joe Biden tackles Mini-Mitt.... I hope he rips the little asshole a bigger one. Ryan should be on the cover of a magazine...... "Vague". For once Sarah Palin was right.... 'you can put lipstick on a dog.... but it is still a dog'
I cannot stand that little geeking bit of hair in the center of his forehead.....like the sign of the financial fucking vampire or something. Ah, the humanity....the HANNITY...OH oh lord... I must go take my medication....in liberal doses.
Not kidding. Somewhere along the line of trying to get my eyes fixed I ended up taking a physical (and that had been years) and they discovered that I had high blood pressure, which is weird, maybe, cause after donating, like almost ten gallons of blood over the years..... I had always had very very very normal blood pressure.... andanyways they did another test, cause I told them I was getting these abnormal cramps in my right leg... so anygoddamways, I now have a small stash of drugs to take......and I had developed a pretty good aversion to legal drugs a long time ago and illegal drugs awhile back....so now this shit I take to make me sleep gives me these weird ass dreams.... not too bad, cause I am sleeping and all, but they do come in, the dreams in very vivid colors and snarky dialogue& stuff.... kinda reminds me of the early 70's when I had a nice affection for mescaline. Soreallyreally...the other night I had a dream and in it I was a talkshow host (go figure) and my Ed McMahon was an old girlfriend from college, Muffy (who was so much NOT a 'MUFFY which is why we called her that.... I mean she looked Sicilian, but kind of spoke with an accent that was more like the Finns up in the UP. Wore her hair all frizzed out, had fur jackets, and called me "Sweetie" so much that I sometimes wondered if she really knew my name.)
..... and Muffy could not say 'squirrel"... kind of sounded like "Skurl". But there she was, after 35 years, in my dream, on my talk show.... and she would say "Skurl" and the audience would laugh and then she would say it again, and more laughter.... and the dream would go on and on and on. So.... there you are.... weird goddam dreams, but at least I am sleeping. Butanywayz....
.... I was talking about my parakeet....Gomez a bit ago....and I got distracted. That is an easy enough thing to do what with the health issues and the drugs and stuff.
See, me and the bird were getting along real well.....he was the only roommate I had for awhile and we got along just fine. Most nights he would just sit in the window and check out the world, others he would just park himself on my shoulder as I watched TV or did whatever. Got to the point where I hardly noticed him sitting on my shoulder..... kinda like a wart you just get used to. I guess I got used to it just a little too much... and just like in life, you take things for granted and you just get a little too casual and that is when bad things happen. And that is what happened....a bad thing. Now, I am a nice guy and it wasn't some horrific thing...like he flew into a fan or got sucked up into the vacuum or any such stuff, but just like I remember Muffy, and she never was a roommate, but that may have been a interesting thing, too, but what happened with Gomez just about broke my heart. See, it was the garbage what done it. Truly.
I was not a big fan of taking out the garbage, cause it was a long walk to the back and all, and seeing as I lived alone, I mean, what is the big deal about a little, and I mean little, bit of stench in a bungalow that you live in by yourself? So, I remember it was a Saturday and the smell was getting to be a bit much and the weather was forcasting a bit of heat and I planned to go to Milwaukee the next day to watch a Brewer game. Not that I am much of a baseball fan, see, but back then games were cheap(er) and there was a whole crew going..... Lightning Dolt and Wheels and his brother Spare, Kid Curry and Tim and Bruiser...... and four or five cases of beer. We were set, see, so just around dusk I thought I best clean Gomez's cage and take the garbage out. I was sure enough thinking I would not want to do it when I got back... and if I figured right, the smell WOULD bother me with a hangover. So I cleaned the cage, got that bag pried out of the kitchen (it had kinda stuck to the floor,see, and I then had to clean up that mess and well, gee, I just wasn't thinking when I walked out the back door with that bag and it was only about when I was almost to the back of the garage that I realized that Gomez was still sitting on my shoulder.
Well.... I stopped ... and looked at him. I was clutching that goddam bag with both hands so it would not bust out any more than it already had so I could not grab him quickly. He looked right back at me........... and like a green flash.... flew off. I distinctly remember thinking...."Fuck", dropping the garbage all over the drive and shouting at the top of my lungs, "Fuck". I could be articulate when upset, even in those young years.
I ran back to the house and got his favorite bell and mirror and that little tin of Pot seeds he liked so well and in the waning daylight went scouring the neighborhood for him..... to no avail. Couldn't see him or hear him. I must have covered my block several times and the next block and the block after that. Finally in the pitch dark, I gave it up and went home. Now to say that I was distressed is mild. He was more than a pet, more than just a mere companion......why.. he was like ....well, a bird to me.
There in the empty gloom of the room I went into a funk... his cage empty and vacant, a reminder of what a dumb shit I could be. I did a shot of whiskey, ,,,, I rolled a consoling joint.... and then.... I sprang (well, just mentally) into action. I made up an ad to put in the paper... "Lost, Talking Bird"... I thought there would be a chance he would just fly into someone's house or something. I would have put the Ad on Craigslist, too, but the internet was still just a gleam in Al Gore's eye. I resolved to get up early and search again. Parakeets do not fly well in the dark.... in fact, not at all. If I got up early, and I was getting up early anyway to go to Milwaukee, maybe I could track him down just before sunrise. I felt better. There was a plan. Hope is a plan.
Hope is also a poem by Emily Dickinson.....
Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune--without the words,
And never stops at all,
And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.
I've heard it in the chillest land,
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb.
( I will get back to my story about Gomez.... but yeaterday was busy Day...My friend Lee's book came out yesterday and I went to his inaugural book signing...
Lee found the original recipe for the Old Chief Oshkosh Pilsner from the 1950's and talked the good folks at Fox River Brewing to whip up a batch.... wasn't too bad at all.
I guess it went well. When I got there at 1:00 there already was a line to buy the book. Lee said I have a 'photo-credit' or something or other on page 152...STUFF!
Anyways.... I know most of the rest of the Free World outside of Wisconsington really really wants to buy a copy... more info http://oshkoshbeer.blogspot.com/
Billa Lang has a credit of some sort, too, but I guess he gets his on page 2 or some such.... probably cause he shot the photo from his plane or some deal.
Billa got so excited he went and gamble on one a dem gamboling machines at Oblio's and won some money and bought me some beersa and a shot of tequila. Every book needs a happy ending likie dat, see! The newaspaper even took some time to write a neat article HERE
Anyways.... the dude is a really nice guy, with a sweet as all get out girlfired.... and there is nothing like being happy for a ffriend.
AndAnd the Republican New Thing is just say NO. I will not release my tax forms. It is none of your business what nefarious deals I have done or where I have hid my money or where my money comes from. NO NO NO.... which I think is really funny coming from a Political Party that is so afraid of fraud that they want every voter to have an ID.... except them.... and ID of responsible fiscal dealings.
The new candidate for the Senate seat, former Governor Tommy Thompson. Believes in saying NO.
Well, the Ex-Governor of Wisconsin, (R) Tommy Thompson is running for the Senate seat that will be vacated by the retirement of (D) Herb Kohl.
Tommy is not new.... he was Wisco Governor for fourteen years before resigning to accept a post in the Bush Cabinet. He 2000 he penned the GOP party plank opposing all abortions...NO exceptions.....
"As in years past, the GOP has enthusiastically reaffirmed its commitment to eliminating access to abortion by once more committing to an anti-choice "no exceptions" plank in the party platform.
Well, good old Tommy probably does not want anyone to know how much money he made after leaving the Bush Admin to work for political fixers, http://www.akingump.com/about/overview/
Now Tommy was never one to pass up freebies.... or drinks. Wisconsin Lore has Tommy drunk at several functions. Google Tommy Thompson 'drunk' and there are a couple of clips to choose from, but sadly, not enough. His terms as Governor were slightly before 'citizen cell phone video' days. There is a NICE ARTICLE FROM THE ISTHMUS about Tommy cavorting down in Tampa with Ron Johnson and Scott Walker and other assorted assholes.
So.... the real deal is.... the Repubs in Wisconsington have struck again. They have fished up a 71 year old corporate shill who will do most anything they say (if you give him enough Scotch) to run for a Senate seat to go with Senator Ron Johnson (who works on a strictly cash basis) to team up with Scott Walker and Paul Ryan.
~~~~~
OK.... that is as far as I got... a couple of weeks ago. I just can't write about that old drunk fuck...cause that is what he is...kind of a standing joke around Wisco. But some folks still like him..... rather like Mayberry likes Otis the drunk. The guy would be almost 80 when he would finish his first senate term.... but he would deliver on his promise of 'less government' Which in Tommy's case is a promise to do nothing at all. Ron Johnson has held up that promise very well in his two years as Senator, He has propose 'SIX bills.... none of which has been enacted. But then Ron is a real dumb shit so less government from him is probably as good a deal as a concerned citizen would want.
Ya, I don't know what it is lately with Wisconsin throwing all these trash people out into the publick arena. Gees, alla I can say is 'Sorry' it wasn't my idea.
~~~~
Well anyways...... see, everytime I try to write something I get sucked back into thinking politics.... and lately.... boy, does that stink. Well, anyways..... my buddy, Billa Lang, got me going a couple of weeks back talking about Stinky Cheese.... Which, see, is Limberger, and to just lay a bit of info on you.... is ONLY made in Wisconsin....or I guess there is a spot in Canada and I think if you go to Germany you can still find it, BUT.....and let me tell you>>>> IT really does stink...(but tastes good) and Billa laid some info on me that AGED BRICK smells almost as bad... and if you eat enough of both with a couple of beers and some onions with the cheese......you can truly make you bathroom a toxic zone the next morning. Course there are other things that can make the bathroom a toxic zone, like watching the Chicago Bears, or listening to ABBA or ....well, gees, I'm sure everyone gets the idea. Really. But honestly, I ate a bunch of that Brick Cheese and stuff....... I couldn't stand myself in the morning> But, like Billa said, just open some of either up in a bar and NO ONE will talk politics.... or even talk with you, for that matter. So, see, stinky cheese is a good antidote when the old news gets too much. Don't believe me? Somebody said Limberger is good catfish bait.... I said 'Bullshit' and they said "look it up" and I did and gees, golly and stuff let me throw this recipe for catfish bait at you and then you tell me if you can still think of Polly-Tics, huh.
**
WARNING: This bait really smells bad due to the cheese and meat after a few days, I am not responsible for any bowls that are left unusable. The Bait: ingredients
1 carton of Limburger cheese
1/2 pound of ground hamburger meat
a box of wheaties
1/2 can of beer ( doesnt matter what kind)
garlic powder
chicken liver blood from one or two containers
SECRET INGREDIENT: 1 can of longcut Copenhagen, id rather use grizzly straight though its cheaper and id chew the longcut myself ha ha.
Now to put it all together
1. Grab a decently large bowl
2. mix limburger cheese and hamburger meet together
3. cover this mixture with garlic powder and mix in the 1/2 can of beer
4. add the chicken liver blood
5. dump in your can of chew
6. mix in your Wheaties or cornflakes till the bait is good and thick
7. put in a container, a coffee can works great
8. now for the stinkiest part, set the can outside in a hot area that gets a lot of sun for 2-3 days and then go fishing! good luck
**
HA... good luck is right! But.... is any body reading still thinking of politics???? Nope. And you are also probably thinking that you will never eat fish again. There are other things to put on a plate next to the cole slaw and fries on a friday night..... but Catfish ain't one, I bet.
~~~~
not really Gomez.... but he looked like this
ok..... if you gotz this far.... it is time to talk about really really serious stuff. See, my friend Jean at Snoring Dog Studio wrote this nice thing about how her dogs inspire her to avoid cynicism and it is a nice readl Do check it out......but it reminded me of when my bestest pet, Gomez, taught me philosophicle stuff.
My Dad gave him to me. He hatched the bird from an egg......and boy, did Dad have to sit on it very carefully. (kidding, but only slightly)_See, my old man had Polio as a kid, which kinda limited him later in life to stuff he could do.... like, he never went skiing or skating and pole vaulting was just plain out of the question. So he raised birds. First it was racing pigeons, but his sons got to big to crawl up into the loft coop he had built and he got a plot of land in the country to raise pheasants....but then his sons were all off to college and there was no one to run out there in the winter to take care of them, (I know all dat's true) and so he finally settled on finches and parakeets and small parrots in his basement. Drove my Mom nutz, but Dad always was a loving and giving man and he always thought of that particular thing as his gift to her. Thoughtful guy.
Anyways.... one day he shows up and he has a present for me... DIS itty bitty bird and a cage. He never asked me if I wanted one and it would have made no difference anyway. There it was and it was now mine. The damn thing could barely fly, it was that young. Mostly, those first days, it just ran around the bottom of the cage and once in awhile looked out at me. That was the extent of our relationship for a few weeks.
Now the place I lived in then...and for almost ten years, was just a small 850 sq ft bungalow right off campus. I had a roommate the first year, but he worked nights and I worked days so it was almost like having the place to myself. When Kenny then moved in with his girlfriend, Pete moved in, but it was more like a place for him to store clothes as he mostly was at his girlfriends. My girlfriend, who became my wife, who became my ex-wife, was still finishing school and working nights. Mostly for a bunch of years it was just Gomez and I.
I taught him to talk. It wasn't that hard. I spoke, he spoke back. When he did say thing right thing.... he got what he wanted. And that is the way it was, for a long time.
The place was a shotgun bungalow, back kitchen, dining room , front room and a couple of bedrooms on the side. Gomez;s cage hung from the bottom of a suspended bookshelf in the front room. When I would come home at five he would scurry around the bottom of his cage and say " Let me out, let me out." I would latch the door open and he would then fly a few laps around the house and then find a perch for the evening....either the bookshelf, the window sill or my shoulder. He became very companionable. His vocabulary increased to include 'What a good bird." Hello, hello." "Eat shit" (which he always had problems with) Now him and I really started to get along. I taught hem to play cribbage and sip whiskey. Fond of Kessler;s, that bird, and he surely did love flipping cards around.... didn't matter much to him that he never won a game or that I cheated terribly, he just loved that game.
He generally eschewed the bird bath thing, too, much preferring to just shower under a slow trickle of water in the kitchen sink. His other passion was squawking back at the time&temperature lady on the phone, which, truth be told, was one of my favorite things to do. See, you could swear and bitch at the time&temp lady as much as you wanted and gosh, she would be just as nice the next day! It was a good release for me and I think Gomez caught on to it well. If I did not dial that number for him quick enough he would land on my face, tear my glasses off and the fly to the phone and march around it till I dialed for him..... see, no matter how much I tried, I could not teach him to dial and gees, he never figured out how to hold the hand set. Dumb bird.
It became an enjoyable routine. I would set the timer on the TV so he could listen to Phil Donahue in the afternoons....we would play cards, sip whiskey...he decidedly did not like beer, or he would just sit on the window sill perusing the outside world. Things were fine..... until the day of the great calamity.
