ALL ABOOOOARD!

FOR THE LOVE OF COCK-SUCKIN' CHRIST.....

Talk about being back on track, let me tell ya somethin'.Had my birthday party today, which is actually yesterday even though my birthday is really tomorrow, which is today.
In the end, isn't that the real truth?

The answer is no.

That being said, let's move on to my review of the suckiest movie on earth, "Alexander".
I am a big fan of period movies, even if they're not terribly great. However, Alexander sucked soooo bad that it actually ruined my date with Christy. Goddamn, can a movie suck so bad that it actually RUINS a date? YES! A movie can suck SOOOO bad that it can actually make a woman lose all interest in anything amorous. "Alexander" is proof of that.
Talk about ego deflation, my mojo was defeated by a lousy strip of film! Oliver Stone owes me $16 and, at least, a blow job. Oh, and one more thing, "Alexander" sucked.

That was a coupla days ago, seeing the movie. Today/yesterday I went to my li'l party, then went out drinking solo all night. First time since that suck-ass, no-gettin'-laid movie that I've been out and had such a good time. Not much happened other than me getting tuned up and riding my bike around downtown in the cold, Autumn night like a homeless person, but I had a good time. I even gave my pith helmet to some fat girl who liked it. Who knows? Maybe some psycho who's out to get wearers of pith helmets will shoot her in the face instead of me.

One can only hope.

PLAAAAaaaaahhh.....

It seems I may actualy be alright in the finances department! Hot damn! A few luxury items will be paid for and I may even have a bit left over for booze money.
I found the motorbike I want

http://www.imz-ural.com/patrol/

Yeah, baby! Suck on that!

Here it is, a quarter to two in the morning and I'm setting the pace for one groggy-ass weekend. Odd sleep patterns are my specialty.


Well, this just sorta petered out...

Beetle-Fried Afro Boogers

On a lighter note, I've been thinking of disgusting food products for some reason. Just maken' 'em up. Things like 'peckered beef nipples' or 'double blubbered pork paps'. Hey, funny's funny.

There's gotta be a comfort zone around here somewhere. I'm told I should step out of it if I'm to move up in the world. I guess I gotta find one, first. Every day I sit on my ass not even getting a little cognac buzzy, is an uncomfortable day. Reading, arts&crafts, writing senseless crap. That's what I do on these rain days when they cut us early at work and there's not a lot of outdoors activities to be had.

It reminds me of an episode of the Little Rascals where, I guess, Hal Roach musta let his cousin-in-law direct. NONE of the usual characters and it was all unfunny and weird. This kid is playing hookie from school, wandering around all the old haunts with his voice-over babbling on but nothing's fun because all his chums are in school. A voice-over in the Little Rascals? It stands alone

Like a wart on a pickled ham bladder

Slingin' the Blues

It doesn't seem like I've had but five minutes to myself in the last two weeks. Finaly, here I am with some time for writing.

I went down to the river to practice whirling rocks with my sling. I made it from some parachord and duct tape. that's it. I was able to get larger-than-golfball sized rocks almost half way across the river. All the po' folks fishing on the bridge must have thought I was one crazy cracker. Although they were out of range, I'd love to show them how crazy I may truly be.

My job sucks. Oh, and did I mention that my job sucks? I've been casualy searching for another. I even picked up some applications while I was in Florida. If I move down there, I'll have to change the name of this blog but I don't think "Cocoa Beach Noir" will cut it. Sounds like a lousy cop show.

Damn holidays are fast upon us. Be sure to outdo your relatives with the expensive presents you buy. That IS the Xmas spirit, right? Be sure it looks like Martha Stewart wiped her ass with your house. Can't have the neighbors thinking they've got one on you.

I have some friends from Switzerland. One year we were sitting at the bar and some dumbfuck redneck asked them what the deal was with how they talk. "We're Swiss." Replied Fri.
"Really?" Dipshit asked, "How d'y'all do Thanks-a-givin' in Sweden?"
Is it any wonder I have no loyalty for these fukwits?

The Sea Revisited

Well then, aren't I the neglectful Nancy? Miss me? I don't give a shit.

The funeral for my uncle was about like all the other's I've been to save for the stretch SUV prom fuckmobile limo complete with a full bar and lava lamps that took the family to the cemetary where Uncle Richard's ashes were to be scattered on the family plots. I had no idea my great-grandfather was a high ranking freemason. At least that's what was on his marker. I didn't know my great-granny's first name was Bertha. I didn't know that side of my family was Apissco palien. Wierd religion. The service reminded me of some sort of masonic ritual. Masons again! We're through the looking glass, people!

While I stayed in Cocoa Beach, the land of my birth, I spent a lot of time drinking on my grandpa's pier. I forgot how nice it is to be near the ocean. I spent six years, all of it sea time, in the Navy. I completely took for granted how pleasant it is to be at sea and living in a maritime environment. I can't believe I keep coming back to Tulsa time and again.
The vortex of anguish.