Monday, August 31, 2009
I used to blog a lot... So much in fact, it might have played a key part in the deterioration of that crazy-ass marriage I used to be in. (If I could go back and do it all over again, I would still blog, only maybe a bit more often... Or better yet, just avoided that whole marriage thing all together.) Somewhere along the line blogging became tedious to me. Immediately after "pulling the plug" on my first blog, I started to regret it. I thought that starting a new blog would satisfy that emotional downer, and while it did for awhile, it too became tedious and I couldn't keep up with it. I felt that I was in competition with myself... And nothing was living up to what I once had in that first blog... The readers, the wit and charm that made it seem successful, and the pride it gave me. So I abandoned it too, thinking I was going to walk away from blogging forever. That was almost 3 years ago, and here I am... Half way serious about it this time. While having readers would be nice, I understand that when you build something up from the bottom, that it can take some time. Still though, I wonder if there are in fact any readers at this site, or if I am writing these posts in vain... Either way, I guess it doesn't matter. It feels good to be back in the saddle and writing. I feel better now than I have for a long time, and I feel this is a golden opportunity to make a fresh start. I hope that you DO read this blog occasionally, and that if you like it, you might put me on your blogroll, or tell your friends. Any questions?
Saturday, August 29, 2009
Tuesday, August 18, 2009
Brett Favre is a Viking... Wow. Didn't see that coming three weeks ago when he announced that he is officially retiring. Again. Except for the football team, the Vikings are extinct. Really. They don't linger on the seven seas anymore searching for new lands while pillaging, killing, and stealing. The Viking lifestyle hasn't existed for hundreds of years... At least not on land. Since the world has been charted there hasn't been much of a need to find new lands, since there aren't any left to be found. It's hard to be a true life Viking and not find new lands, so that lifestyle has become extinct. Pirates on the other hand, are still flourishing. They have made a resurgence the past few years while being virtually invisible throughout most of my adult life. Somali Pirates were all the rage this past winter. It's kinda cool that they are back, re-released into the wild like an endangered species that has been weened back to prominence. Way to go, Save the Pirates! Who's next? The Huns? But back to my point... The Vikings do not exist anymore. While 'Vikings' is a great moniker for a sports team, especially a football team from a cold northern state like Minnesota, the fact that real Vikings haven't been around for hundreds of years is ironic to me... For the reason that Brett Farve wont disappear. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ I played Farkle the other night, and I'm fixin to play it again tonight, if Essie will play with me. It's a game that involves dice, and a lot of math. It's very addicting. I like it enough that I would consider turning pro, if a pro Farkle league did actually exist. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Essie, my girlfriend, can shave her legs and talk on the phone at the same time while taking a bath. I find that fascinating and amazing. I couldn't do it. I would not be able to stabilize the phone on my shoulder and chin while scraping my leg with a sharp blade. Something would have to give... I would either lose the phone into the water, or a lot of blood. She eats a lot of chicken and I eat a lot of beef. But at least she isn't a vegetarian. We both love eating butchered animals. (Also she doesn't mind when I drink milk out of the carton.) ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- That's all for now. Maybe more randomness later...
Monday, August 17, 2009
Man... Rain delay on the White Sox game... Only game on TV. It's bad enough that I'm jonesin for baseball, and I am forced to watch the Sox. So did they have to do a tribute to Ken Harrellson? I HATE that guy. A blank screen on a rain delay would have been better than watching that imbecile drool all over himself while patting his ego on the back. I wish the Cubs were on. Update: Chris Farley's Black Sheep is on HBO. Tonight is not a total loss...
Friday, August 7, 2009
I was at work early this morning, as I am most mornings during the summer. I am responsible for feeding the summer staff breakfast and lunch, and I think I entered the kitchen a few minutes before 7:00. On normal days, I grind and brew up a pot of coffee and turn on the Ipod to something eclectic such as... Well... (This week it's pretty much been) the Blues Brothers. Today started out pretty typical. I got the java beans out of the canister and just started the grinding process, not yet manufacturing a thought about what music to play as a soundtrack to my morning. As I filled up the coffee filter with fresh grounds, I saw a friend come into the kitchen to offer support. "G' morning, mate," said Phoenix as he entered into the kitchen. "Need a hand with anything?" I greeted him good morning and answered, "Nah, I pretty much got it... Unless you want to put some music on." I pointed to the Ipod dock which was connected with audio wires to a stereo receiver. "Cheers, I got my Ipod right here!" Phoenix disconected my Ipod from the input wire, and hooked his up. I really didn't pay much attention to him, until he started singing along with the voice that blared out of the speakers. "Once a jolly swagman, camp'd by a billabong, Under the shade of a coolibah tree, And he sang as he watch'd and waited till his billy boiled, You'll come a waltzing Matilda with me. Waltzing Matilda, waltzing Matilda, You'll come a waltzing Matilda with me, And he sang as he sat and waited till his billy boiled, You'll come a waltzing Matilda with me." I should have expected as much... But I was still taken by surprise. After all, it wasnt yet 7:00 in the morning. Phoenix hails from the continent down under, and he strikes me as a sort of a bush man. He served some time in the Australian National Army, and is genuinely one of those guys you would want to be in a foxhole with if that situation would ever arise. He's a cunning fellow, who's handy with tools, kind of a loner, but everyone's friend. He's an odd sort of person, but perfectly delightful in every way. I would have been shocked if he would have chosen the Blues Brothers as his musical choice, but on the other hand, I wasn't expecting an old folk singalong such as Walltzing Matilda. Especially with Phoenix bellowing out the lyrics along with it, in perfect key, on time. "Down came a jumbuck to drink at that billabong, Up jumped the swagman and grabbed him with glee, And he sang as he shoved that jumbuck in his tucker bag, You'll come a waltzing Matilda with me. Waltzing Matilda, waltzing Matilda, You'll come a waltzing Matilda with me, And he sang as he shoved that jumbuck in his tucker bag, You'll come a waltzing Matilda with me." I let the coffee finish brewing and begin to set up the line for breakfast. Phoenix continued to sing: "Up rode the squatter mounted on his thoroughbred, Down come the troopers, one, two, three, Whose that jolly jumbuck you've got in your tucker bag? You'll come a waltzing Matilda with me. Waltzing Matilda, waltzing Matilda, You'll come a waltzing Matilda with me, Whose that jolly jumbuck you've got in your tucker bag? You'll come a waltzing Matilda with me." By now the coffee was steaming and ready to drink. I pondered pouring a cup but not because I was sleepy. In fact, I was wide awake. My adrenaline was flowing, some from laughter, and some from the wierdness of the morning. I decided not to have the java. I drink too much caffeine anyway, I thought. There's something about an Australian bushman singing to you early in the morning that makes your body react like it just got fueled with a stimilant. I was able to serve breakfast as efficiently as ever this morning, without swallowing a single drop of caffeine. Throughout the day my mind echoed the words from Phoenix's song: "Up jumped the swagman, sprang into the billabong, Drowning himself by the coolibah tree, And his ghost may be heard as you pass by that billabong, You'll come a waltzing Matilda with me. Waltzing Matilda, waltzing Matilda, You'll come a waltzing Matilda with me, And his ghost may be heard as you pass by that billabong, You'll come a waltzing Matilda with me." It made for a very non-typical morning, but a fantastic day. Sometimes I love my job.
Thursday, August 6, 2009
Tonight I introduced my girlfriend to an old friend. We paid a visit to Hot or Not and spent the better part of 20 minutes voting on pictures that people have posted. If you are unfamiliar with the site, as Essie (surprisingly) was, it is a site that allows one to post pictures of themselves and let the world rate their hotness on a scale of one to ten. The site then calculates your score and basically tells you just how good looking (or in some cases how ugly) you are. It looks kinda like this: Hi I'm Gooseneck. I'm a chicken! 9.2 Out of 2356 online votes Obviously my score of 9.2 is high, and enough to stroke my ego, which in effect is the only reason I would ever post a pic of myself on Hot or Not... To stroke my ego. Meanwhile, Essie is talking about stroking my... Um... Alter ego... So I am going to end this post here.
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
That squeaking noise is just gonna get louder...
Lynette Fromme AKA "Squeaky" is set to be paroled from prison later this month. She is infamous for a couple of reasons; the failed assassination attempt of President Gerald Ford in 1975, and for being a diligent and loyal follower of Charles Manson before and during his murderous Hollywood rampage in the late 60's.
What you might not know is that as a child in the late 50's, Fromme participated in a popular dance group called Westchester Lariats, who appeared on the Lawrence Welk show, as well as at the White House (note the irony). You might also not be aware of the fact that Fromme once tried to contact Led Zeppelin guitarist Jimmy Page after a concert in at the Long Beach (California) Arena. She claims that she had a vision that something very evil was about to happen to him and needed to talk to him to give him the appropriate warnings. The band's publicist told her to write Page a note, which she did, in length, before finally leaving. According to the story, the publicist never gave it to Page, but burnt it, unread.
Fromme, constantly under the influence of psychotropic drugs, seemed to have the heart of a flower child, but the mind of an angry anarchist. Like many hippies in the subculture of the day, she demonstrated heartfelt passion for the plight of the planet Earth, namely the Redwood forests and the oceans. But unlike most peace loving kids of the time, she was known to carry weapons with the intent to use them, and had associations with known murderers and the White Aryan Brotherhood.
Before being sentenced to prison for her role in Ford's attempted assassination, U.S. Attorney Duane Keyes recommended strong punishment for her because she was "full of hate and violence." Fromme's reaction was to throw an apple at him, splattering it against his face and knocking his glasses off.
Drama seemed to follow her in every step of her life. She made absolutely no attempt to show compassion or remorse for her actions or those of her friends, often engaging in extreme behavior as she battled her demons.
In custody, Fromme was moved Dublin, California to a Federal Prison Camp in Virginia 1979 after she attacked a fellow convict with a hammer claw. Subsequently, she managed to escape in 1987 in a desperate attempt to reunite with Manson. She was captured just a couple of days later two miles away. The interesting note to this story is that the person she attacked in the California prison was none other than Julienne Busic, one of the hijackers of TWA Flight 355, whom like Fromme was a "follower" who's actions were associated with murder, but was never deemed directly responsible. (Another irony.)
Since her escape attempt in 1987, Fromme has been housed at a high security prison in Texas. She is scheduled for release on August 16. Society is about to take another turn for the worse.
Better batten down the hatches. The apocalypse is near.