I stepped in through my sisters front door. The ten year old "Hammy" was dead asleep on the couch. My sis's dog the Pom-tard barked. Hammy opened her eyes and leaped from the couch to the computer because it drives her crazy to let me on it and wait for me to finish a blog. I'm very slow and I try to check my work so it's not full of errors. The checking thing makes her the craziest. She doesn't believe anyone should ever check their work. (She is only 10 after all)
I wasn't even coming over here to use the computer, so I got a good laugh out of it. I sat down to catch up on some TV that had been DVR'd. I got an even better laugh an hour later when I noticed she still wasn't fully awake. She could barely keep her head up off the keyboard here.
After about three hours, I decided the kid needed some torture. No reason. It just felt like a good idea at the time. So I started lightly kicking the back of the chair she was sitting in. Just light taps. Just because I knew it would make her freak out. The best was when I pretended like I was gonna kick it, but didn't and she still yelled!
Now my sister is about one of the coolest people in the world, but she sure can ruin a perfectly good torture session. She comes into the room and asks if Hammy is ever gonna let me on the computer. I don't even want on the computer. I got nuthin' ta write about. This is a torture session, pure and simple. Nothing more. So then she asks if the little Hambone would like to go use the computer in big sister Lucky's room.
So she leaves... Just up and leaves!!! I wasn't gonna be done picking on her for at least another 5 minutes! I didn't even want to write a blog today, now I'm stuck typing this crap out.
Sometimes my sister can be a real jerk!!! I am resubmitting her name for a "Lifetime Bitch" award. Hell, she deserves two!!!
So it's Oct 2005 and I don't want to spend another winter in Iowa. I jump on my motorcycle (1978 Yamaha XS-400 in CHERRY condition) with no drivers lisence, expired tags, no insurance... This is the way I start most of my 1000 mile plus journeys, on a bike too small with no helmet and illeagal as possible. I've got familly in Texas, so I head there. In two weeks, I've got a job and life is okay.Two weeks after that, I'm in the hospital with a concussion so bad I can't remember what happened. (In fact, I still can't remember) I've got stitches in my head, face and legs and a chest tube in my left side. My left collar bone's broken; so's my right shoulder blade, my breast bone, all my ribs (several of them in more than one place) and 14 of my vertebra. Oh yeah, and the Docs are all wondering why my lungs aren't punctured and collapsed, my liver isn't lacerated, and my spleen isn't ruptured. Darn! No emergency surgery today.I wish I had an excuse, like some Texas moron ran me off the rode. I've rode in 39 different states and Texas is the MOST dangerous for bikers, but like I said, I can't remember. My BAC of 0.18 proves I'd been drinking. Wish I could remember that part at least, but about 4 weeks of my memory is just a hazy blur.Of course the great state of Texas social sec. / dissability say,"14 vertebra? They had to rebuild 5 of them with bone from your hip, then fuse them and put in steel plates and scerws? You were 5'10" before the accident but you're 5'8" now, and you think you're dissabled? No way! Shut-up and get back to work!"I can't pay the $150,000 Herman memorial wants for fixing me. I'm not saying they don't deserve it. I just don't HAVE it. Since I can't afford to go to them for follow-up care, I go to the VA.The VA hospital is good here but my primary care provider Doc Kalyani Koduri is a moron. Thank-you very much America and President Bush. 10 years military service and I get a Doc that can barely speak english. Okay, so maybe she's REALY GOOD!Is anybody still reading this, or have I bored you to death with my whining? Tuff shit!!So I show up at the VA pieced together like a broken doll and asking for rehab. On the side I happen to point out that I have fingers on both hands that are curling up. I can't straighten them out, but I make it clear that this is a secondary concern to me. Doc Koduri sends me to a department called plastic. I think I'm there to get rehab 'cause I can barely walk and move my arms. No, they're going to fix my hands. In my picture, I'm holding up my 100+ stitches post surgery. That was to fix the one finger on my left hand. It was a duputrens contraction. I had three fingers on my right hand fixed, but I can't find pictures of that right now.Don't get me wrong. I like having my hands fixed. But, I wanted the rest of me fixed first, or at least more. I saw Koduri several times and always asked for rehab and pain management. Got nothing. All she ever gave me was a strange sort of confused look like she either didn't believe me or couldn't understand me. Whatever she wrote in my records is probably the main reason I couldn't get dissability.That's MORE than enough for a first blog. In fact I'm sure it's way too much but I realy don't care. My Sister an Niece forced me to get a myspace so I'm gonna bitch about what ever I want. More to come later. No, I don't care if nobodies reading it. I hate people. I hate computers too. I had this all set-up nice and neat with spaces between paragraphs so it was easy to read. Now it's all jumbled together. And yes I already know I'm a crappy speller. This sux.
He was a pilot. He had flowen in on the Marine fuel tanker. They have a duel brace that comes down to a catch bar. One side broke off. I was in a reapare locker that serviced the hanger bays but the fight decks were calling for help. Fuckin' pussies!
I hauled an ass hole pilot from the wreckage. The first time we grabbed him, the flesh came clean from his bone. Just the way you want your ribs to melt in you mouth. It's sick... but that's what I thought about.
He had a side arm. All pilots had them. The privileged bastards!!! He tried to reach it. He couldn't. He'd been in fire. His side arm was hot. I took it. He begged me to end it. I couldn't hear him. He didn't have lips... He mouthed "Please Kill Me". Luckily? He found me / I found him. I had a problem. I know how this shit works. I've always known how this shit works. He mouthed some shit. He made it clear what he wanted. I took his side arm and he was no more... It's what he wanted. It was really loud on the fight-deck. Nobody herd me scream cuz the damn thing was too hot. I believe I screamed. It was over and nobody said shit.
You know? That shit sucked!!!! I've done some really crappy shit in my life. You would not believe how many times the trigger was easy to pull. Did I say I never cry?
Captain Morgan Spiced Rum has become Captain Morgan Original. Why would something so perfect end up as The Original? Because they now have Private Stock, Silver Spiced, Tattoo, all the Parrot Bay flavors and according to Wikipedia, but not the official Captain Morgan web sight, Black Label.
I have had just a tiny bit of experience drinking and in my opinion, Captain Morgan is the best alcohol I've ever tasted anywhere. Well, at least tied with Tuaca. If you take into account The Captain's versatility, it beats Tuaca easily while nothing else even comes close to Tuaca served over ice with a twist of lemon.
Okay, on a 0 to 10 scale, Captain Morgan Spiced (Original) is a 10, Tuaca is a 9 1/2, Finlandia Vodka is a 9, the best of all the rest is a 7, most of the sickening sweet fruity stuff is a 4, Uzo and other anise (black licorice) flavored crap is a 2, and all Tequila fall between 1 1/2 and 1/2. I haven't found an alcohol I'm willing to give a 0 to. This rating is for alcohol only. Beers and wines are different categories. I have had a beer that rated a less than zero in Egypt.
Actually, the Captains Private Stock rates a 10 1/2, but I've never found it in a bar and in fact rarely find it in a liquor store. I bought a bottle of it once. It tasted like the Original but smoother, richer and had a higher alcohol content. I drank it only on special occasions and shared it sparingly. When the bottle was empty, I refilled it with regular (original) Captain Morgan and shared it more frequently, but still somewhat sparingly. Friends who talked me into popping the cork out of the Private Stock bottle, who had been drinking my other stuff all night, would always swear to the superiority of the Private Stock. I even had them do side by side taste tests. They swore they could tell the difference. I never told any but my very closest of friends it was just Original in a Private Stock bottle.
I've tried the Silver Spiced. It tasted like watered down Original to me. I haven't tried the Tattoo yet, but I've read about it. It sounds like a fruity flavor with something added to give it a hot kick at the end. Nobody is even willing to speculate on what produces the hot kick. I have to assume this is because they are idiots. I haven't tasted it yet, but I'll guess it's done with cloves. That's what all the other spiced rums use for heat. If I'm right, then this should be a real "duh" moment for the people who wrote those reviews I read.
I shall further assume that the Black Label isn't listed on the Official Captain Morgan web sight because it's a plain dark rum. No spice.
Let's get back on track... Or at least try to. This Captain Morgan thing is getting out of hand much like many other things in this country. It's nice to have choices, but they don't have to all come from the same company. I get worried when something so good starts trying to please everybody. They start experimenting with all this other crap and I fear what might happen to The Original. This may not make sense, but is the original Coca Colareallythe original?
I say that if you're the worlds best, like Captain Morgan is, let everybody else do all the crappy fruity shit for people of lesser taste. What's the matter with you Captain? Didn't you know how good you were? It's like the most beautiful woman in the world being insecure about her looks. She doesn't have to be conceited, but being insecure is just as annoying.
Couldn't you just make this crap under a different name? Like Bush, Michelob and Bud. All the same company, but different names. Leave the Captain Morgan name untainted. I don't know for sure why it bothers me so much, but it does.
So these are my questions to you:
1) Have you tried Captain Morgan? If so, what did you think?
2) Do naturally beautiful people that obsess over their looks and complain how awful they look piss you off?
3) Reference 2 above. Are there both men and women like this and, if so, which is worse?
4) Has anybody tried the Tattoo? What did you think?
5) Are there any single women out there that want to taste my tattoo?
6) Are my fears about Captain Morgan reasonable? Should I just treat this situation like a girl friend with annoying family members? As long as I'm in love with my original, put up with the rest? Hmmm... Then I would already be guilty of trying two of her sisters. The Silver, and the Private Stock. Oh no you don't!!! I'm not confessing to anything here.
7) Private Stock and Silver are her sisters, right? We aren't talking about mom and an aunt, are we? No no no... The Original was first. That makes the others younger, right?
8) What is this Parrot Bay crap anyway? Is it like a wine cooler? Yuck!!!
9) Can you imagine assembling an all star cast of the magnitude that was in the movie, "The Magnificent Seven"?
Yul Brynner Steve McQueen Charles Bronson James Coburn Robert Vaughn Eli Wallach
10) Personally, I think the first four on this list rank in the top ten ALLTIME actors. Disagree?
11) Who would be on you're top list of actors?
12) From your top ten idea of who the best is, have you ever seen more than two of them in a movie together?
13) Could stars of that magnitude today act together, or would they ruin each others performances? I mean, six of them?
14) Are you really going to try and answer all these questions?
15) Of all the Stooges, including the ones that replaced Curly, which was your favorite?
16) Why do flowers smell so good and taste so bad?
17) Why did the inventors of gin think a pine tree flavored drink was a good idea?
18) Do sunsets make you dream of flying too?
19) Would you believe me if I told you it tickled when they pulled my chest tube out?
20) Do you think I should shave my head?
Bonus Question: If Coca Cola is the original now, where's the cocaine?
Here are some possible reasons for what's been going on. Pick any you like. Pick a few if you need. Submit more if you don't like these. I haven't even checked your comments yet.
After such a ridiculous drunken video rant, I was ashamed to log back on.
I can neither confirm nor deny that I occasionally do freelance work for an organization that I can neither confirm nor deny the existence of.
I just needed a break from my addiction.
I felt like being a drama queen and this was the drama queeniest thing I could think of doing.
I needed some time to work on a Hot Tamale sequel which is still a long way from being complete.
School's out and my 10 year old niece wouldn't let me on the computer.
I wanted to see if during a fit of depression I could balloon up to over 200 pounds and was afraid typing would burn too many calories. BTW, I'm still 5 pounds shy of my goal so don't expect any long blogs in the near future.
I'd been on the waiting list for over a year with the VA Mental Health Clinic for a short term self commitment. A spot finally opened up.
I broke parole , got busted, had to sit in jail for a while again.
My family had me committed to a Mental Health Facility. It took me this long to break out. Every year it gets harder to slip out of those damn straight jackets. Getting old sucks!!! I need some cookie dough ice cream now. Hello 200 pounds!!!
My sister was teaching me to fucking crochet. That's right. My sister doesn't crochet... She fucking crochets... ...Ask her hubby.
Hid out in the local library so I could read all the new books they just got in. They never check above the drop ceiling in the upstairs rest rooms at night. Have you ever lived in a library? It's kinda cool.
Been devoting 20 hours a day to campaigning for my sister to be given a "Life Time Bitch" award.
Tried giving my sister's Pomeranian, Raja, a bath. Was finally released from the hospital. Hey! He's tougher than he looks.
Stole a motorcycle and tried to run it into another mailbox, but it ran out of gas before I could get up to speed. Didn't have enough money for more gas and it took me this long to walk home.
It took me this long to dispose of the bodies... Don't ask.
I hope I can do this. I've tried twice before. I got this friend... He's supposed to make this happen. In return, I do things for him... Sometimes, things that are as ugly as sin. If he doesn't make it work? Maybe it'll be ugly for him.
Feels like I'm on the outside right now. It's a race to see who wins.
I've only got nine hours of com/serv left to do and I've gotta know... Are you relived, or are you gonna miss it? BTW... I 'm not gonna do more, so fuck you.
Let's get to the important stuff. There's a lot of road construction going on here, so there's only one easy way in & out of the complex here. One road for in and out.
The banana peel was: 1) Not peeled like a monkey (cowards!) 2) Found here next to this in/out road
It was positioned so that it was either throwen out the drivers side window as who ever entered, or thrown out the passanger side while exitting.
I've got so much to bring to the forward... Light... Truth... I really can't say shit right now; while I'm so fuckin' drunk.
So come clean deanna banana... Do you just throw the shit away as you enter the complex, or do you wait til you leave to dispose of the shit , in the hopes we won't notice?
I can't think straight right now. you have not seen me this drunk before.....................................................
I used to know what I was supposed to do. I really did!!! I was suposed to be a hero. My marriage, and the military, and the bitches who lied about wanting someone sensitive really fucked me up!!! Well don't you worry a fuckin' bit!!!
I'm back
I just want you all to understand.... And this ain't some fuckin' quote from somebody else, cuz I fuckin' know.;
Heroes ain't bad guys.... We sure as fuck are not... But, we ain't good guys either. Get the fuck used to it!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Sorry... You know I'm an old fuck, don't you? Disco? Yeah! Fuck you!!!!
Queen of Coins did a horror story blog about urban legends. I started this ridiculously long comment, then realized it should be a blog.
While stationed on the USS Nimitz, there was a sailor found hung in a passageway, starboard side, aft of the number 3 hanger bay. His hands where tied behind his back. He was a very unpopular loan shark. He made a lot of money charging exorbitant interest rates, like any gangster. He was also often known to welch on bets.
The Navy ruled his death a suicide. (With his hands tied behind his back?) That way, they didn't have to conduct a lengthy investigation that might make them look bad. (Loan sharking and murder on a naval vessel? Heaven forbid!) So the kids ghost haunts the Nimitz.
This is also why I puke if I accidentally watch more than 10 seconds of any episode of JAG. What an un-Godly piece of crap show that was!!! (Is it still on?)
They found a still I had made in the steam plant once. They spent a year investigating and trying to pin it on one of the sailors "they" didn't like. Never came close to finding who built it. Never came close to pinning it on the other guy, who worked in the other steam plant. Why the hell would he build it in a part of the ship he only went into about once a year? What retards!!! Meanwhile, I built another still in the other corner of the steam plant. The investigating officers of the JAG are all worthless pieces of shit!!! I hated that show so much!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Maybe I'm thinking of this because I just watched "Rules of Engagement" again.
I really should be writing a sequel to "The Hot Tamales". I want to write it. I'm just too lazy. I think that's the real reason why I wrote this instead. Maybe after I finally beat this cold that's been kicking my ass.
Com/Serv naked dashboards and green comas
Category: Life
Hi there!
It's the DMZ comin' to ya direct from com/serv Tuesday! Well, almost... I'm on lunch break and rode across the street to the R. B. Tullis Mem. library. Actually, Hwy 59 is like an Interstate Hwy right here, so I had to peddle down to Community Drive to get across, thus turning a 3/4 mile trip into a mile and a half. Poor me!!!
The library system won't let me log on to myspace, but I can get into my msn e-mail, so that's where I'm typing right now and I'll post later. It says myspace can be used for "dating" and other illicit activities. We wouldn't want anybody going to the library and picking up chicks on line! Heaven forebid!!!
Had to go to my Probation Officer and do a drug test. Good old Tracee Mulond protecting the world from psychos like me. Thank God! When is she gonna figure out that I'm not doing drugs or drinking enough to get busted? She is truly a genius. I guess that's why she's got all those certificates and awards on her office walls. Those things just really impress the shit out of me! I used to have a wall full of awards and certificates. Like my license to operate a Nuclear Power Plant. More than a dozen Special Commendations from Admirals, Generals, and two from Presidents. My Navy Expeditionary Medal. My Marine Corps Expeditionary Medal. Pics of my unit getting Helo'd into Kuwait, and Somalia. She's got a freakin degree from a local college and certificates for X-numbers of years of faithful service. That impresses me about as much as an employee of the month award from McDonald's! My sister does more for the community, and the world in general, working at the Kroger's in the health food department than Tracee does in the criminal justice department here!
One of the things that really fascinates me, is that we're not supposed to associate with other criminals, then they make us go to meetings and treatment and community service with.... You guessed it!... Other criminals. Brilliant!!! And do they think we don't talk to each other? I've talked to people that have been on probation for pretty much their whole lives. They all say Tracee's the best. She always "goes to bat for them" when they get in trouble. I have to assume this is why she gives me so much shit. I'm not getting into trouble. I've talked to people that were picked up with felony weight possessions that aren't getting drug tested every month, but dangerous Dave? Oh Hell yes! I can not be trusted nearly as far as them. So what? Are the other PO's just not doing their jobs, or is Tracee just over doing hers? She must be looking for another of those "Employee of the Month" things.
I gotta get back to work. I'll finish this later. Okay, it's com/serv Wednesday now. I'm getting close to being done so I'm putting in extra hours.
I'm a little curious. I thought UA stood for Urine Analysis. (Drug test) The local probation has switched from urine test to oral swab. It's harder to sneak in somebody else's clean mouth. What's this mean to me? I shouldn't find anymore bags of pee in the parking lot. It also means I have to wonder why my PO Tracee, with her college degree and all her awards, still calls it a UA? To hard for her to remember what is supposed to come out of which end? To difficult to learn a whole new word? I hate being supervised by people that I wouldn't have trusted to baby-sit for me.
For some reason, the banana peel was in the rear today... I mean in the back parking lot. Ya know, there's just no way I can say that without it sounding dirty. I did notice that it had not been peeled like a monkey.
I've started reading the sci-fi section of the local library from Z to A. I just finished "A Yuletide Universe". It was a fun collection of 16 short Christmas stories. They ranged from portraying Santa as a James Bond like secret agent, to him being a tortured soul held captive at the North Pole by psychotic elves that forced him to deliver toys once a year. There was even a story by Clive Barker. All in all, it was an entertaining book.
I started with the Z's this time because when I did this before and started with the A's, everything after Douglas Adams was always a let down. He's very funny, in my opinion. If I can wrestle the computer from my 10 year old niece tonight, I'll post this sucker. Other wise, I may add on to it on tomorrows lunch break.
Hey! I got the computer! Since I peddle my ass everywhere I go (like all the other ho's here) I've noticed, besides the tons of garbage along the sides of the road, ball caps too. I've begun collecting theses and can tell that most were previously setting on a rednecks dashboard. How do I know? 1) They're almost brand new, so weren't intentionally thrown away 2) Several are PBR hats (Professional Bull Riders Association) 3) They all have their bills bent into tight curves 4) Most have a huge fish hook stuck to the bill
The tight bend to the bill? I believe the tightness of the curve determines how big a lie the redneck gets to tell about the size of his dick. Plus, they all get to laugh and call people that don't bend their bills like that, dorks. Brilliant!!! The fish hook? It's shiny and will hopefully dazzle any women that don't fall for the lie about dick size. I could be wrong about these explanations, but they sound right to me. At any rate, I believe we should all observe a moment of silence for the poor naked redneck dashboards. I'm sure the poor boys are impotent until they get the thing replaced.
I've been very ill lately. A cold that probably turned into bronchitis or pneumonia or what ever changed people into zombies in one of those movies. So I drank half a bottle of Ny-Quill. The green kind. None of that pussy cherry shit for me! I'd forgotten what fun that stuff could be. We used to call it "Sleeping the green death" or "a green coma". I passed out and, instead of hacking up bits of lung all night, slept straight through. Still felt like shit today and coughed up things that deserved to be named as they crawled away under their own power.
