"Low on money but we're getting by and we're getting high on life" - Barstool Sailor
For once the Holidays weren't dreadful as they have always seemed to be in the past. I doubt we'll be getting a Hallmark movie made about them, but it was uneventful and we got to spend time with the people that matter and that's a pretty good step. The days after christmas where spent wandering the streets of Savannah. I packed Beaver to go along with us, mainly because I am hell to sleep with if I don't have something to hold on to...and secondly for his comic interjections. The ride down was tough, the decision has been made that I-95 gets avoided on the day after xmas from here on. I had to contact Coon Dick to find out if beaver poop was normally found in pile or pellet form, as I could only imagine that Beav had crapped my luggage from all the75mph to 0 stopping. As always on call he provided pictures (they are more woody looking turds) and a stern warning to steer very clear of the poop as to avoid getting a case of the "explosive diarrhea". Apparently there are actual health dangers involved with coming in contact with real beaver poo...who knew. The first day there we located the best happy hour bar ever (which when traveling is always priority), thankfully it was right after we found some food involving tater tots at a bar unfortunately involving fat cuban lesbanese. Their night probably went rougher than ours since they were already into the baby guiness shots well before dark. A very unsuspecting guy was about to loose his date to the duo of questionable head giving...I figure it would be like a cat cleaning his ass. How appropriate that they were at the place were the shirts say shuck me, suck me, eat me raw. Yes, Velcro is now that proud owner of one...shirt that is, not overweight lesbanese.
The worst hangover of my life was the result of the little Bayou Cafe, I was somewhere in my very early 20's and just remember about ten 2 for 1 bloody mary's with tequila. (bad idea in case you were thinking of trying it.) Whether or not its still the same place, not a thing had changed including how they pour a drink. Of the local guys at the bar one appeared to be quite the expert at lock picking and had his tools and a lock teaching the others...it was kinda like the "How To" clinics at Home Depot but with liquor. I think they appreciated that we were from a tourist town and basically know how to not act like one. Ricky, the low give a damn bartender brought out a free chicken pizza for everyone to share, but for the life of me I can't remember which night. I have a guest check with scribblings on it...one quote "I used to go out after 8...but when you do you just get arrested and to to jail to get butt fucked, so...we don't" I can only guess that was something that I said and with much thought I believe it was in response to the music starting at 9. We ate and drank our way all over Savannah and Tybee Island and I think one night stayed out until almost 9...crazy like we are. One night we cabbed it to the Crystal Brew Pub..."Um, do you mean the Crystal Beer Parlor?" from our cabbie. "Sure, whatever, that's what we said". Only to call him back in about an hour to come get us from the Crystal Burger (Velcro is awesome and he makes me laugh)...he must've known who we were because he showed back up.
So far as my reflexion on 2012...I know there were lots of ups and downs, but in comparison to 2011 they seemed mild. I had the man I love by my side the whole time and we weathered all of the storms together. I was afforded some opportunities that I could have never imagined were in the cards. The challenge to make that into a career for myself is still everyday but give me a chance and I can do anything.
This is a milestone year since collectively me and the Velcro will be 100. I want to travel and see and do and experience more than I ever have. I want to BE in everyday. I'm not so big on resolutions but I've got some pretty strong expectations for myself physically speaking. I intend to be one bad ass 40 year old.
Thursday, January 3, 2013
Wednesday, December 5, 2012
The Sky Is Beautiful...It's Not Falling
"Your time is limited, don't waste it living someone else's life. Don't be trapped by dogma, which is living the result of other people's thinking. Don't let the noise of others opinions drown out your inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition, they somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary" - Steve Jobs
We witnessed some of the worst white people dancing ever a few weeks back at a Corey Smith & Travis Tritt concert. It was almost hidden camera looking for reaction bad. Its a widely known fact that if you can't dance, you can't fuck. Based on that statement, neither one of them were worth a damn in the sack. I pointed out that this dude probably would be the flip someone around every possible way bad porn style. 45 positions later no one has gotten a nut. Now I for one don't dance...its not a lack of ability so much as it is choice and not for nothing in my lifestyle dancing opportunities just don't really present themselves.
Speaking of porn...Velcro has a neighbor that over the summer that had porn streaming non-stop on the bedroom tv. We know this because we could sit on the balcony with a drink in hand and watch it. The part that didn't make so much sense is that he would be in the living room with his feet up on the coffee table. Some how you may have become desensitized to the porn if gets less attention than the average infomercial. There's no telling how many people in the building were ganking this dude's porn(which in my made up word world means stealing) but I'm thinking about 3 floors worth had a bird's eye view of butt sex.
Over the past month or so I've lost all of my stability neighbors. Its strange how you draw comfort from people that you only know by first name. I don't guess I've ever stayed anywhere long enough to out last any neighbors...I was normally the one peacing out. The guy next door to me spent about a day moving his stuff to storage, I'd talked to him and found out that he was moving to Ohio to find work. You have hit rock bottom when that's the best option you have. He told me he had lost his condo. I saw him drive away about 9:30 the next morning and around 10 the sheriffs dept was drilling out the locks with papers in hand. I didn't know that's how those things happened. It was a weird feeling...there was an understanding of where everyone parked. Now I've taken over his spot. A few days later my buddy that I shared motorcycle storage with moved...then another old soul that I'd just met left about a week after that. I wonder if it made neighbors feel weird when they saw me shelpping my stuff into my car and pulling away one last time with my dog in tow or if it took them the better part of a month to realize I was gone. It makes me question the impact that I've had on people. I want to ask "Are you better for having known me?" I'm not so sure that I'd really like to hear the initial knee jerk answers from some and would maybe be disappointed that others don't remember me at all. It makes me hope that maybe the ones that got to know me see the world a little bit differently because of my quirkiness.
The last few days here have been more like spring than winter. I've been able to spend my morning walk on the beach with my best little buddy. I get so much more thinking done there than any where else...except maybe on the motorcycle. The beach though is a very visual place. I take a ton of pictures everyday, and looking back on them you can't tell one day from another. On the bike its different, I'm more tuned into smells and feel of the bike. There is so much you miss by being in a car. I always get a song stuck in my head and it plays over and over while I ride. The vibration of the foot pegs and handlebar is hypnotic to the point that I could go to sleep. Sunday what stood out was the smell of wood...one time it smelled just like kindling and later we passed a lumber yard that had the new green lumber smell. If you would have asked me before that day to tell you all the smells I love wood and leather wouldn't have been on the list, but they are now. Truth is you smell a lot of road kill too, but I tend to be more of a glass half full person.
We witnessed some of the worst white people dancing ever a few weeks back at a Corey Smith & Travis Tritt concert. It was almost hidden camera looking for reaction bad. Its a widely known fact that if you can't dance, you can't fuck. Based on that statement, neither one of them were worth a damn in the sack. I pointed out that this dude probably would be the flip someone around every possible way bad porn style. 45 positions later no one has gotten a nut. Now I for one don't dance...its not a lack of ability so much as it is choice and not for nothing in my lifestyle dancing opportunities just don't really present themselves.
Speaking of porn...Velcro has a neighbor that over the summer that had porn streaming non-stop on the bedroom tv. We know this because we could sit on the balcony with a drink in hand and watch it. The part that didn't make so much sense is that he would be in the living room with his feet up on the coffee table. Some how you may have become desensitized to the porn if gets less attention than the average infomercial. There's no telling how many people in the building were ganking this dude's porn(which in my made up word world means stealing) but I'm thinking about 3 floors worth had a bird's eye view of butt sex.
Over the past month or so I've lost all of my stability neighbors. Its strange how you draw comfort from people that you only know by first name. I don't guess I've ever stayed anywhere long enough to out last any neighbors...I was normally the one peacing out. The guy next door to me spent about a day moving his stuff to storage, I'd talked to him and found out that he was moving to Ohio to find work. You have hit rock bottom when that's the best option you have. He told me he had lost his condo. I saw him drive away about 9:30 the next morning and around 10 the sheriffs dept was drilling out the locks with papers in hand. I didn't know that's how those things happened. It was a weird feeling...there was an understanding of where everyone parked. Now I've taken over his spot. A few days later my buddy that I shared motorcycle storage with moved...then another old soul that I'd just met left about a week after that. I wonder if it made neighbors feel weird when they saw me shelpping my stuff into my car and pulling away one last time with my dog in tow or if it took them the better part of a month to realize I was gone. It makes me question the impact that I've had on people. I want to ask "Are you better for having known me?" I'm not so sure that I'd really like to hear the initial knee jerk answers from some and would maybe be disappointed that others don't remember me at all. It makes me hope that maybe the ones that got to know me see the world a little bit differently because of my quirkiness.
I went outside of my norm for this election and actually registered to vote. Somewhere in my late 20's or early 30's I was in the DMV and the lady said, "I see you are registered unaffiliated, would you like to register with a party?" I looked at her for a few seconds and replied " You know, I want to unregister all together." She told me I couldn't which only made me want to more. Before I left there that day I was officially without a voice politically speaking. I wanted no ties to any organization or group. You have no idea how difficult it is to get your name removed from a church membership...but I got it done. So after many years of stubbornness I decided (with some encouragement) that this was an election that needed my input. The day of the election I put off going until mid afternoon anticipating missing the crowds. I had a big feeling of dread...I felt like the hippie that decided to cut his hair, sell the van, get a real job and give up pot. That somehow I had been broken. When I got over to the school where I was supposed to vote the parking lot was full of what appeared to be white people cars. So I said "fuck it...they got this" and went on to happy hour. I'm sure that had South Carolina gone the wrong way by less than 100 votes I would have caught almighty hell from the boys. It seems though old men everywhere have 4 more years to bitch and moan... I wonder if old men would still be as grumpy if we didn't have 500 news channels slinging doom and gloom at us 24/7. I haven't been able to pin point an exact age when suddenly obsessing about that shit becomes mandatory. Amazingly, the next morning, the sun still came up and the tides are still coming and going and life carries on. And I'm still just as happy as a girl can be.
Tuesday, October 30, 2012
Lost a Few Months There..
So, if you have been wondering where Eddie Murphy has been...I found him. In the Turks & Caicos. Bartending...and faking an accent. And sporting a top notch Tom Selleck porn star mustache...but on a black man. It kinda reminded me of the whole "Coming to America" thing without the afro sheen and Arsenio Hall. Actually, we had several celebrity sightings...Kevin Costner, the dude from Rascal Flatts, Kenny Chesney. Or more likely just too many drinks from Eddie Murphy coupled with some near sightedness...a gay looking dude with bleached spikey hair and some looser with a shell necklace on...and Kevin Costner. This place was amazingly beautiful, to the point that no picture I took could quite capture it. I'd never been somewhere like that. The real beauty was that about 80% of the people at the resort spoke french. You couldn't over hear every stupid word out of their mouth like the average day on the beach here and there was no interaction required. Love it. There was only one day that we lost the cold war with the frozen white russians. The best we can piece together is that around 4:30 we staggered back to the room, showered (we only know because we woke up clean) and passed out. Oh, and I meant 4:30pm...we woke up in time for dinner. That somehow reminds me of the most memorable exclamation of the week. "WATCH MY NUTS!!!" I'm not sure if it happened on that same day but there was drinking involved. One must understand my fascination/curiosity with nuts to fully appreciate the Velcro COMPLETELY freaking out when he thought I was getting too close to the jewels. I am fully aware of where they are and that one must give wide berth to the nuttal zip code. I have mentioned many times that if mine were visible they would be much like goat nuts...no one believes me. Anyway that brought on a whole 'nother conversation about wienies being attached to the backbone via wienie tendon or which the Velcro was unaware. I had to confer with Coon Dick after vacation...his response to follow at a later date. But suffice to say I was correct.
What I have realized is that through the power of the internet the world is wide open for kids (20 some year olds) to move anywhere in the world they can imagine and live for free and work fun jobs in paradise. There's a pretty big part of me that's pissed off that I was born too many years too early for the technology of filling out an online application and moving to the islands. For as long back as I can remember all I've wanted to do is run away to the islands. Alot of these kids where from Cananda, some from Maylasia, a chick my age from Colorado. It makes me want to grab every 22 year old in sight and shake them violently. There's no need for this whole marriage and procreation bullshit...get out there and LIVE, travel and see all the beautiful stuff before you get so jaded that you don't recognize amazing. All that breeding and family stuff will be there waiting for you one day...you've got time.
I know where October ran away from me with bike week and islands and Zac Brown weekends....but I really can't speak for September. I've got to get back on top of the whole documentation thing because without being able to reread what I've been doing I tend to loose some stuff. On the subject of Zac Brown...we got tickets to the whole weekend of the South Ground Music Festival this year. Saturday was a bit overwhelming with the amount of people there to contend with. (Note, I just mentioned how having a pile of non-English speaking people around to not intermingle with is relaxing to me and we had only been home for about 2 days.) The madness however was worth it when Darius Rucker walked out on stage and sang Wagon Wheel...to me. I can't remember how long ago that Wagon Wheel became my "request" song when it came to bar music. It surprises you the people who know it and give you a kick ass version. The Nanner actually briefly dated one that would play it for me (very briefly). We called him Wagon Wheel...I'm sure I never actually knew his name...turns out it was one of the more polite names we ever gave any of the men folks. I've also had a Darius/Hooty hangup every since I was in Gainesville one weekend back when I was in my early 20's and they were playing the college circuit. I missed them because some guys that were on the dive trip with me needed some vagasil and wouldn't stand in line to see band with a funky name. It was only a matter of months later that Cracked Rearview came out and they were a hit. To make it up to me the next time the same bar had a funky named band and a line they all clammed up and stood in it. It was the Big White Undies...they never made it but I have their cd to this day. (You have no idea how amazing that is considering the number of times I've moved and the amount of shit I've lost.) So you can see how this random combination made me all giddy.
What I have realized is that through the power of the internet the world is wide open for kids (20 some year olds) to move anywhere in the world they can imagine and live for free and work fun jobs in paradise. There's a pretty big part of me that's pissed off that I was born too many years too early for the technology of filling out an online application and moving to the islands. For as long back as I can remember all I've wanted to do is run away to the islands. Alot of these kids where from Cananda, some from Maylasia, a chick my age from Colorado. It makes me want to grab every 22 year old in sight and shake them violently. There's no need for this whole marriage and procreation bullshit...get out there and LIVE, travel and see all the beautiful stuff before you get so jaded that you don't recognize amazing. All that breeding and family stuff will be there waiting for you one day...you've got time.
I know where October ran away from me with bike week and islands and Zac Brown weekends....but I really can't speak for September. I've got to get back on top of the whole documentation thing because without being able to reread what I've been doing I tend to loose some stuff. On the subject of Zac Brown...we got tickets to the whole weekend of the South Ground Music Festival this year. Saturday was a bit overwhelming with the amount of people there to contend with. (Note, I just mentioned how having a pile of non-English speaking people around to not intermingle with is relaxing to me and we had only been home for about 2 days.) The madness however was worth it when Darius Rucker walked out on stage and sang Wagon Wheel...to me. I can't remember how long ago that Wagon Wheel became my "request" song when it came to bar music. It surprises you the people who know it and give you a kick ass version. The Nanner actually briefly dated one that would play it for me (very briefly). We called him Wagon Wheel...I'm sure I never actually knew his name...turns out it was one of the more polite names we ever gave any of the men folks. I've also had a Darius/Hooty hangup every since I was in Gainesville one weekend back when I was in my early 20's and they were playing the college circuit. I missed them because some guys that were on the dive trip with me needed some vagasil and wouldn't stand in line to see band with a funky name. It was only a matter of months later that Cracked Rearview came out and they were a hit. To make it up to me the next time the same bar had a funky named band and a line they all clammed up and stood in it. It was the Big White Undies...they never made it but I have their cd to this day. (You have no idea how amazing that is considering the number of times I've moved and the amount of shit I've lost.) So you can see how this random combination made me all giddy.
Thought I would give you a little visual reference to the trip...sorry none from the Zac Hooty thing...didn't take my phone in, but still managed to loose it and proceed to freaking the F out because I'd lost all my vacation pictures. This one is from the Sharky's beach bar.
This was the local beer...found a dive within walking distance called Jimmy's Dive Bar. We quickly realized that our damage needed to be done to the tune of all inclusive. Just for point of reference we found an IGA and the Michelob Ultra was $16 a six pack. It may be the only way that I could every imagine sobriety.
Yes, this is really what the water looks like. There was a tropical storm off shore a few days and we saw a full grown man standing ankle deep when a wave crashed over his head and put him face first. It was great. Then we went back to the pool.
Me in a tree. If you know me then there are really no no questions to ask.
And just in case you want to know what happy looks like....yep, that's it.
Tuesday, August 21, 2012
The Answers To All The Questions You're Too Afraid To Ask
"The trite objects of human efforts - possessions, outward success, luxury...have always seemed contemptible to me." Albert Einstein
From the uninformed outside looking in, I'm sure I appear to be the laziest of all online writers. If we are judging based solely on my writing output, I guess you would be right. Lots of big changes have gone on and are still going on. If I were a tomato plant, I would be growing in one of those "as seen on TV" topsy turvey planters. I've given up the stablity of my job of almost 3 years (funny how I have gotten geared to thinking of a $2.13/hour bartending gig in a tourist town as stability) to pursue a for real career (gasp). Since there is never just one step to any journey worth taking, most of my time lately has been spent waiting tables and getting the new digs going....hence the lack of writing. With that said, I have a smelly pile of badly sorted laundry ideas that all want to get into the washing machine of words at the same time. And although I know I run the risk of turning tighty whities pink, I'm going to put everything into one blog.
Over the course of the past few months I have put Coon Dick to very good use, not to mention the fact that it has given my Velcro a much MUCH needed break from being my only go to guy for all my crazy ass questions. Even when he suspects that he knows the answer right off, he still does several days of research before sending my answers documented via email. In case any of you have a wondering or wandering mind like my own, I've decided to pass along his answers so you won't have to go seeking this knowledge on your own.
The first question I had for him required a visual that I can not supply to you, but coupled with the question "Why do I have blonde cock hair on my big toe?" "And why can my little tiny 5lb 100 year old cat poop a terd that I would be proud of?" I got the head shake that I have become so accustomed to, whether it be from him or Velcro and he said he would get back to me. This arrived a few days later.
Problem 1 This is a problem(?) experienced by all fair skinned males and rare occasion on fair skinned females. The cause with respect to females is too many male genes. Now at first glance at the toe of our subject, we would certainly not think she had extra male genes due to the beautiful curves of her body, but looking deeply into her mind she shows signs of somewhat being a "Tomboy".
Problem 2 Cat Poop should be "deep brown" in color and "well formed"--not too hard and not too soft and mushy. Normal cat poop should not smell too foul.
Lowering the size of your cats poop----CD suggest more oral intake of "canned pumpkin".. This should produce two poops a day instead of one large poop. I wish I could take credit for this "Gem" of knowledge, but the credit goes to two of my students (Both alcoholics in Marion County) the honorable "Duke" and "Highpockets". Both of these gentlemen being in the "Cat" business for numerous years...CD.
I immediately went to the Food Lion and bought a can of canned pumpkin for the cat, unfortunately she's about as big of a fan of Thanksgiving as I am and only ate a little before letting me know it didn't suit her palate. The next thing I came up with for him was the relative buoyancy of nuts...its strange the things that fascinate me. Would they be positive, negative or neutrally buoyant? And I also sent him yet another picture of a tree that I'd never seen before.
The first thing that comes to mind with respect to testicles is "age". We all know that a young baby boy has very small "tight" nuts, and can instantly get an erection with very little stimulation. Now you drop a small baby boy in the deep end of a swimming pool and he will go straight to the bottom upon hitting the water, but he will immediately come back to the top with the utilization of his arms working in a paddling motion. (Learned this procedure from "Nina" (my mother)(another alcoholic) who taught my first son how to swim at 6 months. Thank god she passed away before my second son was born).. Now if my son had nuts as big as my next door neighbor "Johnny Carson" (93 years of age, and nuts as big as my head that hang out the bottom of his shorts when sitting) he would have floated back up to the top without using his arms. Johnny advises me that the older you get the bigger your nuts get with "Hot Air" which creates the flotation device, which is great for old men when drowning. Johnny also advises he hasn't had an erection in 30 years and only uses his wife for dipping his finger in "to wet it" so as to "turn pages" when reading. With that said, if you are beginning to see testicles beginning to float in the "bath tub" I would deduce this to be a sign of the ageing process, and would definitely keep myself covered when he is reading a book.
Part 2: My astute constituents advise the following: (pls don't send me anymore bushes or trees unless an emergency situation as my followers drive me up the wall)
Golden Berries, also known as Incan berries, are indigenous to South America, and are often referred to as the goji berry of the region. They contain a remarkable amount of protein (16% - more than whole wheat!), as well as vitamins A and C to help boost your immune system. Sunfood raw Incan Berries are sweet, tangy, and have been gently dried at low temperatures so that they have a consistency similar to raisins. They are rich with bioflavonoids, also known as vitamin P, which have anti-carcinogenic, anti-inflammatory, antihistamine, antioxidant properties, and more! These wonderful morsels contain pectin, which helps to regulate the process of digestion, and aids in lowering blood cholesterol and glucose levels. Add them to your trail mix, your cereal, or use them to garnish your favorite dessert!
But he followed that up with "only when they are ripe, otherwise can be very poisonous". After I send him several more pictures to determine if I have some ripe enough not to kill me, he goes the back door to Velcro and tells him to take them away from me and throw them away. Conspirators...sigh. You can also see that he has hex voodooed me from asking anymore tree questions.
One night we are at happy hour at our favorite Sushi bar/drinking place and I suddenly needed to know something. These are our back and forth texts.
Me: Have a question...
CD: Yes mam?
Me: Ok...I know butt cracks come in different heights and lengths...but are the cornholes in the same place on everyone?
CD: Assuming this question was somewhat prompted by the game outside, but being from ole school the answer is yes with the exception of when you are eating "silver queen" That is done orally I hope you know.
Me:So you're saying that inches from back to front are the same on all people?
CD: No....cornhole is in the same place
Me: So could you do some research about butthole placement? That's more of what I had in mind.
After a few minutes, obviously used for research.
CD: Cornhole is 2 inches from the vagina which is what we call "taint meat" Technical term we use.
Me: Does this measurement apply to men as well? You are aware more than likely there will be a tape measure double check done.
CD: Absolutely! Ck from his cornhole to his scrotum sack when hanging down
Me: Welp I'll be getting back to you with some research under my belt
CD: I'm interested in your measurements. Be good for documentation. Pls follow up.
I'll give you one guess if I was allowed to get anywhere near all of that with a tape measure...nope. I decided more alcohol intake is probably needed for my test subject.
Next question: If you bake and filet a human...would the arms and chest be white meat and the thighs and legs be dark meat? Not to go into researching blindly he asked me if I was referring to white people or black...to which I began to question my question and then wanted to know either and if they would be different from each other.
Have had extensive conversations today with "CM" out in Nashville and will now try to "boil" this down as simply as possible, as it varies with each individual and "race".
The Black race you will find have more "dark meat" due to the fact their life style through-out history has been more "laborious" due to their living in the jungle and having been through slavery etc. This life style has given them more muscle hence the dark meat and it makes them better "basketball players".
The white race having lived a less laborious life style will have "dark meat" in their muscle, but more white meat where there is no muscle.
"CM" put it quite simply..... when you dissect a "chicken" the Breast does no work hence no muscle hence "white meat". The legs work all the time hence "muscle" hence "dark meat".
Now "age", & "obesity" can play a part in the variance of the above....Hope these "caveats" will help with your problems on this subject. Kindest Regards, CD
You can now see why Velcro thinks of this man as a super hero...saving all of mankind (or at least him) from me and my busy wayward mind. He definitely needs a cape.
From the uninformed outside looking in, I'm sure I appear to be the laziest of all online writers. If we are judging based solely on my writing output, I guess you would be right. Lots of big changes have gone on and are still going on. If I were a tomato plant, I would be growing in one of those "as seen on TV" topsy turvey planters. I've given up the stablity of my job of almost 3 years (funny how I have gotten geared to thinking of a $2.13/hour bartending gig in a tourist town as stability) to pursue a for real career (gasp). Since there is never just one step to any journey worth taking, most of my time lately has been spent waiting tables and getting the new digs going....hence the lack of writing. With that said, I have a smelly pile of badly sorted laundry ideas that all want to get into the washing machine of words at the same time. And although I know I run the risk of turning tighty whities pink, I'm going to put everything into one blog.
Over the course of the past few months I have put Coon Dick to very good use, not to mention the fact that it has given my Velcro a much MUCH needed break from being my only go to guy for all my crazy ass questions. Even when he suspects that he knows the answer right off, he still does several days of research before sending my answers documented via email. In case any of you have a wondering or wandering mind like my own, I've decided to pass along his answers so you won't have to go seeking this knowledge on your own.
The first question I had for him required a visual that I can not supply to you, but coupled with the question "Why do I have blonde cock hair on my big toe?" "And why can my little tiny 5lb 100 year old cat poop a terd that I would be proud of?" I got the head shake that I have become so accustomed to, whether it be from him or Velcro and he said he would get back to me. This arrived a few days later.
Problem 1 This is a problem(?) experienced by all fair skinned males and rare occasion on fair skinned females. The cause with respect to females is too many male genes. Now at first glance at the toe of our subject, we would certainly not think she had extra male genes due to the beautiful curves of her body, but looking deeply into her mind she shows signs of somewhat being a "Tomboy".
Problem 2 Cat Poop should be "deep brown" in color and "well formed"--not too hard and not too soft and mushy. Normal cat poop should not smell too foul.
Lowering the size of your cats poop----CD suggest more oral intake of "canned pumpkin".. This should produce two poops a day instead of one large poop. I wish I could take credit for this "Gem" of knowledge, but the credit goes to two of my students (Both alcoholics in Marion County) the honorable "Duke" and "Highpockets". Both of these gentlemen being in the "Cat" business for numerous years...CD.
I immediately went to the Food Lion and bought a can of canned pumpkin for the cat, unfortunately she's about as big of a fan of Thanksgiving as I am and only ate a little before letting me know it didn't suit her palate. The next thing I came up with for him was the relative buoyancy of nuts...its strange the things that fascinate me. Would they be positive, negative or neutrally buoyant? And I also sent him yet another picture of a tree that I'd never seen before.
The first thing that comes to mind with respect to testicles is "age". We all know that a young baby boy has very small "tight" nuts, and can instantly get an erection with very little stimulation. Now you drop a small baby boy in the deep end of a swimming pool and he will go straight to the bottom upon hitting the water, but he will immediately come back to the top with the utilization of his arms working in a paddling motion. (Learned this procedure from "Nina" (my mother)(another alcoholic) who taught my first son how to swim at 6 months. Thank god she passed away before my second son was born).. Now if my son had nuts as big as my next door neighbor "Johnny Carson" (93 years of age, and nuts as big as my head that hang out the bottom of his shorts when sitting) he would have floated back up to the top without using his arms. Johnny advises me that the older you get the bigger your nuts get with "Hot Air" which creates the flotation device, which is great for old men when drowning. Johnny also advises he hasn't had an erection in 30 years and only uses his wife for dipping his finger in "to wet it" so as to "turn pages" when reading. With that said, if you are beginning to see testicles beginning to float in the "bath tub" I would deduce this to be a sign of the ageing process, and would definitely keep myself covered when he is reading a book.
Part 2: My astute constituents advise the following: (pls don't send me anymore bushes or trees unless an emergency situation as my followers drive me up the wall)
Golden Berries, also known as Incan berries, are indigenous to South America, and are often referred to as the goji berry of the region. They contain a remarkable amount of protein (16% - more than whole wheat!), as well as vitamins A and C to help boost your immune system. Sunfood raw Incan Berries are sweet, tangy, and have been gently dried at low temperatures so that they have a consistency similar to raisins. They are rich with bioflavonoids, also known as vitamin P, which have anti-carcinogenic, anti-inflammatory, antihistamine, antioxidant properties, and more! These wonderful morsels contain pectin, which helps to regulate the process of digestion, and aids in lowering blood cholesterol and glucose levels. Add them to your trail mix, your cereal, or use them to garnish your favorite dessert!
But he followed that up with "only when they are ripe, otherwise can be very poisonous". After I send him several more pictures to determine if I have some ripe enough not to kill me, he goes the back door to Velcro and tells him to take them away from me and throw them away. Conspirators...sigh. You can also see that he has hex voodooed me from asking anymore tree questions.
One night we are at happy hour at our favorite Sushi bar/drinking place and I suddenly needed to know something. These are our back and forth texts.
Me: Have a question...
CD: Yes mam?
Me: Ok...I know butt cracks come in different heights and lengths...but are the cornholes in the same place on everyone?
CD: Assuming this question was somewhat prompted by the game outside, but being from ole school the answer is yes with the exception of when you are eating "silver queen" That is done orally I hope you know.
Me:So you're saying that inches from back to front are the same on all people?
CD: No....cornhole is in the same place
Me: So could you do some research about butthole placement? That's more of what I had in mind.
After a few minutes, obviously used for research.
CD: Cornhole is 2 inches from the vagina which is what we call "taint meat" Technical term we use.
Me: Does this measurement apply to men as well? You are aware more than likely there will be a tape measure double check done.
CD: Absolutely! Ck from his cornhole to his scrotum sack when hanging down
Me: Welp I'll be getting back to you with some research under my belt
CD: I'm interested in your measurements. Be good for documentation. Pls follow up.
I'll give you one guess if I was allowed to get anywhere near all of that with a tape measure...nope. I decided more alcohol intake is probably needed for my test subject.
Next question: If you bake and filet a human...would the arms and chest be white meat and the thighs and legs be dark meat? Not to go into researching blindly he asked me if I was referring to white people or black...to which I began to question my question and then wanted to know either and if they would be different from each other.
Have had extensive conversations today with "CM" out in Nashville and will now try to "boil" this down as simply as possible, as it varies with each individual and "race".
The Black race you will find have more "dark meat" due to the fact their life style through-out history has been more "laborious" due to their living in the jungle and having been through slavery etc. This life style has given them more muscle hence the dark meat and it makes them better "basketball players".
The white race having lived a less laborious life style will have "dark meat" in their muscle, but more white meat where there is no muscle.
"CM" put it quite simply..... when you dissect a "chicken" the Breast does no work hence no muscle hence "white meat". The legs work all the time hence "muscle" hence "dark meat".
Now "age", & "obesity" can play a part in the variance of the above....Hope these "caveats" will help with your problems on this subject. Kindest Regards, CD
You can now see why Velcro thinks of this man as a super hero...saving all of mankind (or at least him) from me and my busy wayward mind. He definitely needs a cape.
Thursday, June 14, 2012
Tattoos and Toe Nail Polish
"Hell, I am young. I am free. My teeth are clean. The sun shines. To hell with everything else." - Stephen Fry
As the title indicates, my toe nails are painted...a very bright pink. It makes me feel girly and yet somewhat conflicted, which lead to my question "Do tattoos and toe nail polish go together?" Everyone knows I'm a dog vs. a cat person and that I've always been a tattoo vs. a polish girl. I'm told that I'm very black and white with few to no shades of grey. Guess I'm digging my new shade of grey that has materialized itself more as a shade of pink. Just for those keeping up with my budget, I did not go to the chinese nail salon and dip into my vodka fund, nor did I paint them myself. Velcro is in charge of the toes.
I'm afraid that I am going to be asked to pay Coon Dick a retainer. This week so far I've put him on a shark bladder mission and I just text him pictures of some weird tree that I need to know about. The shark bladder research he did came up with two things. First they do not have a waste system like us and the answer would be NO, they do not pee pee. It seems some animals have swim bladders, kind of a kin to buoyancy control, but the shark is not one of them either. They have oil in their large livers that is lighter than water and that's what makes them not plow the bottom. My guess is that nurse sharks don't have so much of the oily liver since they lay around on the bottom all the time. I'm also thinking that the reason sharks have large livers is because they live near the coast and everyone knows that if you are within 5 miles of the coast all you do is drink...wonder if humans will adapt this same survival method? In attempt to get all my shark facts straight Coon Dick just revealed that sharks also don't poop. I think I need one for a pet.
Care to guess what this is? One may say, well Sparky, that there looks like a towel with a Target bag wadded up on top of it. And one might be partially correct. But in fact this is a homemade "Make the cat shut the fuck up so I can sleep at night" contraption. She has been sleeping on a bag I left at the bottom of the stairs, the other day I picked it up in an attempt of cleaning and pretending to be an adult. That night she woke me up yelling about every 30 minutes. So I gave her the bag back. Only to get yelled at on a less frequent schedule. Last night I threw in the towel...literally and put in some ear plugs. Happy to report she allowed me to sleep through the night.
My living room is empty. Amazingly this time it's not because I'm moving but because I have succumbed to the fact that animals are carpet don't mix well. I'm having tile put down and in preparation I have emptied the room. Now, I've said before that my living room is the only room in my house that looks like an actual grown up may live here. Yesterday I called Velcro to ask if it was weird that I like the room better completely striped down. His answer was the same as most people just worded more politely, instead of "Um...yea" he said "Could be". He knows me and I doubt this surprised him or much of anything else out of me for that matter. I'm seriously considering not putting the stuff back in there. Although, I'm not sure what to do with my coffee table. Update to follow.
As the title indicates, my toe nails are painted...a very bright pink. It makes me feel girly and yet somewhat conflicted, which lead to my question "Do tattoos and toe nail polish go together?" Everyone knows I'm a dog vs. a cat person and that I've always been a tattoo vs. a polish girl. I'm told that I'm very black and white with few to no shades of grey. Guess I'm digging my new shade of grey that has materialized itself more as a shade of pink. Just for those keeping up with my budget, I did not go to the chinese nail salon and dip into my vodka fund, nor did I paint them myself. Velcro is in charge of the toes.
I'm afraid that I am going to be asked to pay Coon Dick a retainer. This week so far I've put him on a shark bladder mission and I just text him pictures of some weird tree that I need to know about. The shark bladder research he did came up with two things. First they do not have a waste system like us and the answer would be NO, they do not pee pee. It seems some animals have swim bladders, kind of a kin to buoyancy control, but the shark is not one of them either. They have oil in their large livers that is lighter than water and that's what makes them not plow the bottom. My guess is that nurse sharks don't have so much of the oily liver since they lay around on the bottom all the time. I'm also thinking that the reason sharks have large livers is because they live near the coast and everyone knows that if you are within 5 miles of the coast all you do is drink...wonder if humans will adapt this same survival method? In attempt to get all my shark facts straight Coon Dick just revealed that sharks also don't poop. I think I need one for a pet.
My living room is empty. Amazingly this time it's not because I'm moving but because I have succumbed to the fact that animals are carpet don't mix well. I'm having tile put down and in preparation I have emptied the room. Now, I've said before that my living room is the only room in my house that looks like an actual grown up may live here. Yesterday I called Velcro to ask if it was weird that I like the room better completely striped down. His answer was the same as most people just worded more politely, instead of "Um...yea" he said "Could be". He knows me and I doubt this surprised him or much of anything else out of me for that matter. I'm seriously considering not putting the stuff back in there. Although, I'm not sure what to do with my coffee table. Update to follow.
Found all these guys hanging out in one tidal pool. I've never seen one like the big guy at the top. Of all the crazy random questions that I have, all of them are centered around earthy naturey stuff or bodily functions. It may have been said before that I am like a four year old with a vodka habit and 12 year old boy's sense of humor. But with boobs...and painted toe nails.
Advice-
Folks, I'm telling you
birthing is hard
and dying is mean
so get yourself some
loving in between
- Langston Hughes
On a similar note "All I want to do is have sex and throw a cast net."
- Wingman
Friday, June 1, 2012
So Much To Say
"Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bow lines, sail away from safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover." -Mark Twain
As much as I have reasons (see-excuses) for not writing, I get to a point where I feel my head is going to explode if I don't get something out and on paper. I reached that point several weeks ago. Not only does it wear me out to have all these thoughts running wild like rabid horny poodles it also takes down Velcro in the form of 500 crazy ass questions a day and a hyperness that I have little control over. There really is no good place to start. I turned a year older and I'm sure there was some insightful shit about where I am and where I was and will be but the moment is passed and I forget now. The main thing I learned on my birthday was from the Wingman. "If you're not farting, your not healthy. At 50 you need to be farting 28-30 times a day." So I had to inquire about my needed fart stats to insure my health at 39. "15-18. And if you aren't farting when you have sex...then you will be." Awesome. There's me something to look forward to. Flatulence was quite the topic of conversation that evening. It seems that cows farting in the atmosphere has something to do with the global warming issue. I'm thinking that if they sneak into the closet to fart it wont really help the situation either. Note polar bears...it ain't looking good for you, you're gonna need to adapt...retire, get some golf clubs and come on down and complain about how you just can't get good seal pizza...or bagels.
These are some of the weird things that keep my little mind full of questions. By the way, do you think that the ocean is deeper at low tide or is it just high tide somewhere else? And if it is...where?
As much as I have reasons (see-excuses) for not writing, I get to a point where I feel my head is going to explode if I don't get something out and on paper. I reached that point several weeks ago. Not only does it wear me out to have all these thoughts running wild like rabid horny poodles it also takes down Velcro in the form of 500 crazy ass questions a day and a hyperness that I have little control over. There really is no good place to start. I turned a year older and I'm sure there was some insightful shit about where I am and where I was and will be but the moment is passed and I forget now. The main thing I learned on my birthday was from the Wingman. "If you're not farting, your not healthy. At 50 you need to be farting 28-30 times a day." So I had to inquire about my needed fart stats to insure my health at 39. "15-18. And if you aren't farting when you have sex...then you will be." Awesome. There's me something to look forward to. Flatulence was quite the topic of conversation that evening. It seems that cows farting in the atmosphere has something to do with the global warming issue. I'm thinking that if they sneak into the closet to fart it wont really help the situation either. Note polar bears...it ain't looking good for you, you're gonna need to adapt...retire, get some golf clubs and come on down and complain about how you just can't get good seal pizza...or bagels.
I am excited to announce that I have a new source of non-traditional knowledge...we'll call him Coon Dick. I actually had another name picked out but he came up with this one and it was so fitting. I had only been around him a time or two before I realized he's my new go to guy for questions about raccoon wienies and cow pee and such. As a matter of fact, the first time we met raccoons and their manhood was topic of conversation. I'm sure he's just f-ing thrilled about all this. The good part for Velcro is that he can now say..."I don't know, ask Coon Dick when you see him". You can imagine the look on his face when I call him over at happy hour to ask why when you're cold do your nipples stick out but your wienie shrinks? Btw, I had asked Velcro to pass my question along if he saw him before I did....he politely refused. (?) After the look of shock wore off he told me he would do some thinking and get back to me. Sure enough he shows up a few days later with my answer and a mail brochure for a Erec-Tech Pos-T-Vac penis pump. Who knew Medicare covered these things? Which leads me to my other absolute genius idea. If every one in the world would get simultaneously laid on the same day, can you imagine how great tomorrow would be? Going without is not something people wear very well. I see on a daily basis many, many people that just need to get laid. Since I've touched on raccoon wienies and shrinking wienies, no better time to cover this subject too.
This is a cooter. This is why my hoo-hah does not like to be called a cooter. Cooters are mean fucking turtles that are not scared of you and will hurt you. Although that may partially be true of the hoo-hah, it does not look like a cooter. Or a snapper. Or a beaver...although that one is marginally acceptable. Have you ever given much thought to all the animal connotations associated with the female junk? Think about it. Outside of the pink taco I'm pretty sure all others can be seen on an episode of wild kingdom.
Since I wrote last I've procured a bath pillow, rode bitch (once), ate brussel sprouts in bed, took a zillion pictures of weird stuff on the beach, rode for bike week and got goosebumps from watching a flash mob on an episode of Weeds. Which led to flash mob stalking on you tube. (Just a tip of the iceberg) If you've never seen a flash mob you must google it. I've never seen one in person...I think the odds of one busting out on the beach or anywhere I frequent are slim to none. Some are much better than others but all of them amaze me.
This is the Point that I talk about so much.
Every morning I save my first sip of coffee until my feet hit the sand. Roger dogs mileage count on the year is officially at 203. Pretty good for an old guy. 203 miles of sanity for his mom too.
"Great minds discuss ideas. Average minds discuss events. Small minds discuss people." - Elenor Roosevelt
Friday, March 23, 2012
Four Trips Around the Sun
"You don't have a soul. You are a soul. You have a body." unknown
Four trips around the sun...1461 spins of this gravity restricted rock we are riding on...or 126,144,000 seconds. That's what I and anyone reading have had, to do absolutely anything that we want, that my Daddy didn't. He wasn't the shell of human suit that shriveled gape mouthed in that Hospice bed. He wasn't the confused and muscle spasmed person that his disease made him look like. He was charismatic and magnetic. He had the way about him that made everyone that came near him love him. He was goofy and random and boingy. He would two hand hold your elbow and put his forehead on your shoulder laughing. He would pick up and hug and play with every baby in sight. He would do Tim the tool man impersonations at the most unpredictable times. He would put a leaf in dirt and make a tree. He touched peoples lives like most of us only wish we could.
Four trips around the sun...1461 spins of this gravity restricted rock we are riding on...or 126,144,000 seconds. That's what I and anyone reading have had, to do absolutely anything that we want, that my Daddy didn't. He wasn't the shell of human suit that shriveled gape mouthed in that Hospice bed. He wasn't the confused and muscle spasmed person that his disease made him look like. He was charismatic and magnetic. He had the way about him that made everyone that came near him love him. He was goofy and random and boingy. He would two hand hold your elbow and put his forehead on your shoulder laughing. He would pick up and hug and play with every baby in sight. He would do Tim the tool man impersonations at the most unpredictable times. He would put a leaf in dirt and make a tree. He touched peoples lives like most of us only wish we could.
I found this picture of me and my Pop from a long time ago. Daddy is in the background being his classic normal self....(you have to forgive my 1989 hair)
My world is a much different place than it was four years ago...almost unrecognizable. Whether he knows it or not, he taught me to laugh at whatever you find funny...talk for stuffed animals if you want to. And most of all Carpe Diem, Seize the Day...it is after all, all we really have.
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