Scroll Down …ain’t nothin’ stoppin’ you but fear and common sense.
That felt good, My Mother married a guy named Skip, I never liked him much until just near the end of his life, he was a tireless liberal, sickening to observe in a white man, I never could figure it out, he had been a Marine drill sergeant too. Real tough guy.
My Mother became a Buddist, now, that seemed like good sound thinking to me at the time…”World peace through individual happiness” How can that not work?
She died a Sunday school teacher and hardcore Christian. We were closer when she was a Buddist, but, she was nearer the truth as a Christian I’ll bet.
But, I softened up on Ol’ Skippy eventually…he really loved my mother, it was palpable, you could feel it, how can you not love that in a guy? I couldn’t…so I didn’t.
They are both gone now, one year apart….true love….bet you anything.
I keep thinking I’ll find my Skippy, but, I never do. Such is life, as they say.
It’s probably one of the prettiest days ever out side my little hooch. The kinda day you want to share with someone you love.
Outside of immediate family I just can’t think of anyone I love today.
I broke up with my girlfriend the other day…I can’t believe I was drinkin’ that fucking koolaid for two years before I woke up. I am ashamed of myself.
Got my hair cut last week, I’d been growing it out for seven months. I cannot believe what a good looking bastard I still am. Big mistake, the whole hair thing.
With this face and a world class African soupbone, what can stop me?
PS… just took another look in the mirror, best haircut of my life.
Love me some Shirley Temple…America’s Sweetheart. Cute as a three holed button.
Not sure where I’m going with this one. My life is getting complicated again. Turns out I have some inheritance coming. Just enough to fight over.
Guess who lives furthest away from the loot.
I always knew this day was coming, and honestly, it’s playing out just like I thought it would. I hate being right all the time.
My sister is cleaning out the house my Mom was renting. She’s currently unemployed…unless you count Lesbian wedding documentaries. I somehow doubt that the IRS has been allowed to count them.
Apparently, she was able to liberate enough free time to rifle through my Mothers belongings and award herself a late model Toyota van and an equal share of the the bank accounts for her trouble. There is an executor, but, evidently that don’t mean nuttin these days.
We have become a lawless society. Rotting from the head down.
Well, I gotta go… Nestor is coming by with a box of those frozen pizza roll deals…woo hoo.
Been away for awhile. My Mom died. Nothing a time machine can’t cure. Gonna pick up some PVC and bailing wire tomorrow. And more Tecate.
My Mom was pretty sure I was the funniest person on Earth. The joke is on her.
Insert rimshot here.
It’s a drum thing…look it up…Catskills.
I am special. She was right about that. I was enrolled in special classes and everything and in addition received some very special extra curricular attention…(see my article on wood shop teachers)
It got better…eventually
Cynthia C…you know, from the law library…she was very supportive, as was Miss Robin.
She’s a good egg…they both are.
Anybody remember how to fold a paper swan?
Just got another missive from Cambria Bicycle Outfitters…seems that Giro has a new helmet out. The Aspect…suggested retail price tag of one hundred and seventy five dollars.
Lets get sumpin’ straight right outta the hatch. There ain’t nothing you can do to a bicycle helmet other than have Troy Lee paint it right in front of you that would make it intrinsically worth more than twenty bucks.
Nothing. Nothing at all. It’s foam and fucking plastic.
Did you know that you throw em away after kissing the pavement just once. It’s true.
The trendies like em though. Same crowd that’s at them damn Zoo concerts.
The free range chicken crowd, Know them by their deeds.
I’m getting old. I could use some head protection.
The other one.
Miss Robin, Nestor and I made it out to the Friday night concert at the zoo…hmmm.
Audience participation and long effin’ name dropping stories…doesn’t this chick have any regular friends?
Perla Batalla, wonderful singer, but, in my opinion talent looking for a genre. She sang my favorite song…Koo Koo Karoo Paloma….butchered it. It’s intended to be a duet. Sang some Pete Seeger too, and lots of Leonard Cohen…like I say, talent looking for a genre.
Sang Volver too, already had a speech prepared for the occasion. Something along the lines of how it wouldn’t be hard to get “this crowd” to sing along. Ostensibly because, you know, being in Albuquerque, of course, the audience would be teaming with Hispanics….it wasn’t, just pretty much Nestor and some tattooed kid doing community service.
Don’t get me wrong I like white people, I’m white too, I’m not proud of it, but, esta verdad amigos…esta verdad.
Pedro…the great white dope.
As some of you might recall Nestor and I made a short trip to San Antonio last month. We went thru the border checkpoints. Heading into Texas smooth sailing… leaving El Paso was another story.
With twenty thousand of these orphan refugees pouring in weekly this prick was snarling at me. I didn’t answer any of his questions, I just kept asking if I was free to go, eventually, I was. Thank you Infowars. And Youtube. “How to refuse a border checkpoint”
A lot of people don’t know it, but, there’s a battle on for your mind. In Nestor’s case it will simply be a short skirmish.
He’s a little simple that one, but, a good egg.