Wednesday, April 30, 2008

my computer.....a deux


I feel like there should be fanfare!

at the very least fireworks


my computer,
well....
it's well on the road to recovery
and (touch wood)
I've not lost anything this time...
I should be able
to get back to the business
of regular blogging
by the beginning of next week!(
mostly cos I'm going away
for the weekend)
tee hee hee!

Monday, April 28, 2008

My computer















my computer
is doing it's best

to get sick

I am currently
struggling
with it

to keep it from doin
just that

last time
it won

and
I lost 6 years
worth of work


I'll be back when I win!

Friday, April 25, 2008

Chapter 62

the sound: Loreena McKennitt – She Moved Through the Faire, Loreena McKennitt – The Bony Swans, Loreena McKennitt – The Mystic’s Dream, Loreena McKennitt – The Lady of Shalot

Walking through the front door of the house was like walking through some kind of time warp.

There was a large oak settee just inside the door to the left and across the foyer was the huge oak staircase heading to the second floor…big and open staircase…wide enough for 2 people to walk up side by side. The floor was carpeted…but in some kind of broadloom I’d never seen before…the real expensive stuff that has the pattern carved in it as opposed to painted or dyed on it.

In the silence I heard a loud clock ticking and I peeked behind the door to see an enormous grandfather clock with a huge pendulum easily visible through the glass door.

Past the stairs straight ahead of me was a long extra wide hallway. I saw glimpses of very old family pictures on the left side of the wall and a cherry wood Victorian pea shaped desk on the right.

Past the desk there was a door to a kitchen and I could see the hustle and bustle of a large “kept” kitchen, the maple cupboards, the cook top and part of the sink visible from where I stood. To the left of the door was a hallway disappearing further into the depths of the home.

On each side of the foyer there were double French doors with white lace sheer curtains on them so you could see light and form through them, but not distinction. One door open and one door closed on each set on each side.

Through the set on the right I could glimpse into a formal Victorian parlor, complete with fireplace and a mantle with a pair of expensive Venetian glass lusters. (My granny hadn’t raised a complete idiot!).

The furniture in this room was cherry wood and grey and burgundy. I could see a Duncan Fife drop leaf table and thought “this is way way too much like Granny’s house!”

Through the left set of doors was a den, with a huge fireplace, a couple of wing back chairs with matching ottomans, a couch, some brocade foot stools, a wooden rocking chair with brocade cushions, some bookshelves filled with old books, a huge floor model TV and some very expensive looking figurines.
An elderly woman was standing in front of the fireplace…hands up over the mantle fussing with the mantle clock, trying to wind it.

“I never could quite get this thing to work right” she said as she closed the face and turned to us.

I was greeted by a woman that was substantially taller than I; she was regal in carriage and motion. She wore her hair braided and up softly in a crown around the top of her head. She was dressed as one would expect a matron of stature. In a long sleeved, cream colored silk blouse replete with the loose tie at her neck, a long tweed skirt, hose and serviceable yet heeled ladies shoes.

But the thing that mostly caught my eye and my ear was her jewelry. She wore a large silver clan pin on her blouse holding the loosely tied blouse down; she wore a very old but obviously expensive gold watch on her left wrist and a set of wedding rings that looked suspiciously to me like a series of glass doorknobs.

On her right wrist was the piece of jewelry that all of the sound emanated from. A very full, very golden, charm bracelet that I’d later come to find out held a token for every single member of her family, hearts for girls and circles for boys – engraved with their first and second names, their date of birth – and a tooth print once each child got old enough to bite!

She turned towards us all and stared at each of her children for a moment looking them each up and down individually. When she finally discovered me standing behind all of her overly tall children she spoke again.

“What have we here?” she said, beckoning me forward. Her adult children parted like the Red Sea leaving me standing alone for her scrutiny.


All I could think of was the fact that I hadn’t washed my face or brushed my teeth or hair in the better part of 24 hours!

Thursday, April 24, 2008

A place where everybody knows my name....

















those of you that know me
know that my blister works
for a CDN tv company
and travels the world in her work

today she sent me a brief email
it says:
“The song is wrong....
Actually, *nobody* knew my name...

and she attached this picture....

cool eh?

Wednesday, April 23, 2008

Chapter 61

the sound: Enya – the Celts, Enya - Watermark, Enya – Angels, Enya – Exile

The sounds of sirens approaching forced Grey and Rosie, Snot and I back into the truck and Grey drives around the long block so that we could go by the scene once again.

When we get there, there are cops everywhere. The black cop is on his back on the hood of the car…he looks unconscious. The original white cop is sitting on the curb nursing a broken nose and Robert and the bike are no where to be seen.

“What the fuck?” I stammered….”where’d he go?” and when no one answered I asked again “tell me I didn’t just imagine all that?”

Rosie turned to me “Robert is in the habit of getting away before there’s enough cops to take him down” she said tiredly. “When we were kids we called him ‘Robert the rabbit’ cos he could just disappear into some rabbit hole and not be seen for hours…course with Mama he’d never quite outlast the trouble….”

“Enough? Enough? Just how fuckin many is enough?” I shouted loudly.

“SHUT UP BABY!” came Grey’s reply.

We eased past the commotion on the street headed back to the farm. I sat quietly in my seat (for once) while Grey and Rosie carried on in pained silence. In no time at all I was nodding off again and I didn’t wake until we were pulling through the back gate of the farm.

“Something’s wrong” said Rosie

“wha what?” I asked, brains still dulled by sleep.

“Robert should be here” she replied.

“well maybe he’s hiding in the barn” I suggested.

Grey snorted “Robert doesn’t hide – but it would be just like him to be up at the big house telling Mama his story without the risk of us embellishing it at all.”

Grey maneuvered the truck across the field and through the gate and then up the hill through the big old oak trees and through the second gate to slowly move past the garden. Snot is squirming around in the box of the truck looking uncomfortable and Rosie is trying to clean herself up and make herself presentable.

“you look fine” Grey admonishes

“not fine enough for Mama” comes the reply “it’s hard to look fine in someone else’s sweats.”

“It was the best we could do on short notice…just be glad we left your jeans and shirt with the hospital…Mama would have smacked me silly had she seen all of Barry’s blood on your clothes.”

“I know…she’s still always after you to take care of us all” Rosie replied.

As we drive slowly past the garden I look over to see the evidence of someone having recently been working in the rows. Rosie looks over my shoulder and shudders.

“you’re right…he’s here, the ass”

We drive around the side of the butter yellow house, all of us watching the big chairs on the wrap around veranda expecting to see someone at any moment. As we approach the front of the house we see Snot’s motorcycle parked on the front walk and Snot mutters about how he’s gonna get that away before Mrs. K catches him.

“you just get it and let out” Rosie says…”we’ll keep Mama busy”

“I’ll just go with Snot” I suggest hopefully.

“not likely” says Rosie…”everyone has to meet Mama sooner or later, and you just might be the ticket we need to keep us all out of Mama’s bad graces”

“Great” I think “no pressure there….nothing like feeling like yer being presented like the prize hog.”

I look up as I hear the sound of a wooden screen door slam to see Robert standing on the porch just outside the door. He looks grim, and waves us in...I can see the flash of silver at his wrists.

We all get out of the truck and as I walk around the front of the old truck I head a big accented voice call from inside the house “Tyrone? Siobhán?”

“Tyrone? Siobhan? Huh who?” I muttered shaking my head as I traipse up the stairs ahead of Grey and Rosie to the porch as Robert swings open the door and waves us into the entryway.

Behind us I heard the click of Snot flipping up his kickstand and a slight rustle as he stealthily walks his bike across the lawn to the driveway.

I look over my shoulder to see the big man virtually skulking in an attempt to make a clean getaway.


“What’s got him so spooked” I wonder.

Tuesday, April 22, 2008

Chapter 60

the sound: Jimi Hendrix – Crosstown Traffic, Jimi Hendrix – All Along the Watchtower, The Doors – Hello I Love You, The Band – Chest Fever, Janis Joplin – Piece of my Heart, Richard Strauss - Also Sprach Zarathustra, Marvin Gaye – What’s Goin On, Prince – Purple Rain


By the time we were ready to leave the hospital we had Rosie with us, and knew for sure that Barry would be ok. We all ate some, slept or napped some, and most of the boys at one time or another had gone round the corner to a bar for a much needed bracer.

We walked out the door to the bikes and Boomer suggested it might not be a bad time to head to The Dump. Robert and Grey both looked at him as Grey ushered Rosie into the middle of the truck seat.

“ya’ll go ahead…we’ve gotta go talk to Mama” Robert said. “Baby…I’d appreciate it if you’d come too.”

My head snapped around at his use of a word like appreciate…and my curiosity got the best of me as I agreed to go along.

I began to clamber into the passenger side of the pickup with Rosie and Grey but Robert pulled on my arm as if to get me to go with him. I looked up at him and he quietly said “please”.

I walked with Robert to Snot’s bike as Snot climbed into the now clean box of the truck but Rosie hollered out the window of the truck “Robert, I want Baby with me!” I turned to look at her and Robert gave me a little shove in the back towards her. “Get along then” Robert replied as he kinda slumped and then threw a leg over Snot’s bike.

I climbed into cab of the truck as Robert started the bike and pealed out of the parking lot like his very life depended on it. All of the bikes pulled out ahead of us and headed in the opposite direction to The Dump. Grey, Rosie, Snot and I followed Robert but were possibly 5 minutes behind him

Grey shook his head ruefully as Rosie suggested to her eldest brother that “it would be nice to have just one uneventful day in this family.”

We traveled quietly through the streets of the city on our way back out to the farm. The sun was up and beating warmly on us in the early morning as we entered the industrial warehouse area that signals the edge of the city.

I started to nod off only to be awakened by Grey’s strident exclamation….“shit! shit! shit! shit! shit!....and one of them’s black”

I sat up and glanced about me to see what the commotion was about just in time to see Snot’s bike parked on the sidewalk and Robert standing off two police officers with their guns trained on him.

I realized that the cops didn’t know that we were with Robert and that up to the point where we’d passed them there seemed to be a whole block of parking meter’s with their little metered head’s knocked off.

We continued slowly past so as to not attract attention and turned right one building down, at the next corner, coming to an abrupt halt as Grey stopped the truck.

Rosie, Grey, Snot and I piled out of the truck and I realized as we raced up to the corner of the building that both Snot and Grey were armed.
I had just enough time to wonder where guns had come from before we reached the corner of the building and peered around at Robert and the cops.

Robert was now in handcuffs and had his back to the wall while both cops stood in front of him. I could see what Grey meant, one cop was white and one was black but neither of them were very large men. I glanced around at Snot and Grey but thankfully neither man seemed ready to make a move.

I looked to Robert again and I could see the cords standing out on his neck as the black cop berated him, poking him in the chest all the while, calling him a criminal and a total waste of taxpayer’s dollars. The white cop tried to shush the black one but he was having none of it, his tirade just continued until he got to the part where he started in on the subject of the bikers in general and then their stupidity in general and then he moved from there on to the subject of genetics and inbreeding in bikers.

Suddenly, I was physically yanked back around the corner and just as I was a commotion broke out between Robert and the 2 officers. “well he’s cuffed” I thought, “so it’s not like he can cause much trouble.”

I heard Rosie, who was still peering around the corner mutter “oh fuck…there he goes” and slid forward to see Robert standing with the black cop in his hand and up off the ground by the gurgler while he pushed away the white cop who was trying to pull his gun again. Robert had him by the wrist forcing his hand to remain on his gun in his holster.

The black cop began to seriously thrash and struggle as I realized that Robert had the remains of a pair of handcuffs still on his wrists.

He’d snapped them in two.

Monday, April 21, 2008

Chapter 59

the sound: The Who – Eminence Front, Alice Cooper – No More Mr. Nice Guy, Paul McCartney and Wings – Helen Wheels, John Lennon – Mind Games, Faces – Oh La La, Bachman Turner Overdrive – Takin Care of Business, Steve Winwood feat Eric Clapton – Dirty City

Robert continued to move as he rose slowly to stand before me, hands on his hips. Greybeard stayed beside me and when Robert leaned forward to make a grab for my jacket front Grey slapped his hand away and told him to “leave off”. Grey’s hand came to rest lightly on my knee and for once I kept my big trap shut about my personal space.

Someone cleared their throat across the room and I looked up from Grey’s hand on my knee to see a very young, rather timid Dr standing in the doorway. He looked so scared it would not have surprised me in the least to have been able to see his knee’s knocking together from where I was sitting.

I smiled as Grey rose to stand beside Robert, two massive hulking men looming over this poor young medic…“betcha he wishes he was on the day shift” I thought just as he began to speak.

The young Dr seemed to find himself as he talked…“Mr. Kirkpatrick is in surgery; the bullet entered his left buttock and traveled through to exit at his groin, just barely nicking his femoral artery. Had it been a hair’s breath closer to the artery he’d have not lasted long enough to get him here – he’d have bled out before you could have got him into the truck….as it was he’s lost a massive amount of blood. How it missed his pelvic bone on the way through is beyond me….anyway…only your quick thinking in getting him here and your sister’s having kept her finger in the hole in his groin thereby slowing the bleeding saved him.”

I smiled at him, “and Rosie?” I asked.

“She’s resting comfortably” was his reply, “we had to sedate her to keep her from following Mr. Kirkpatrick into the operating room. She’ll be right as rain after some rest.” He turned on his heel and marched briskly away.

I looked up at the two men standing before me as Snot approached us. Both men looked white and scared, but as I watched I could see them visibly relax and begin to gain color.

Snot asked Robert “who should go get Wizard and the boys?” Robert just looked at him.

“You should” I said, as Robert and Grey both sat down abruptly, kinda like they’d lost their legs. Grey reached his hand into his pocket and came out with the truck keys “wash the truck and pick up the boys” he said to Snot. “and pickup some food” I added and then shrunk back when Grey’s head snapped around to look at me.

“well?” I said, “it’s not like we’re not goin anywhere are we?” I blurted

“no…yer right Baby” he said as he turned to Snot “send one of the girls for some grub too.”

Snot hesitated and looked to Robert who was sitting with his elbows on his knees and his head in his big hands. Robert nodded and Snot turned away to make plans.

“She’s right you know” Grey said quietly to Robert.

Robert sighed and nodded again…”ya, I know” he replied.

“well you are gonna be the one to tell Mama”…hissed Grey…You are gonna be the one to march right into the big house and tell Mrs.K you shot her baby boy in the ass and god damn near killed him!”


Robert slumped further down in his seat and didn’t reply.

{ a quick word from Wyz: because it's come up in conversations with those of you that read my blog and know me...I feel a need to state for you, my faithful readers, that although this happened in my life...the timeline has been distorted for storytelling purposes. Because really? what kind of fun reading would it be for you if I posted 17 consecutive chapters that simply said: "today we got drunk" or "today we went grocery shopping" or "today we went to the dump"? (as opposed to The Dump?}

Sunday, April 20, 2008

coffee pots n avacados

I've just spent 3 hrs shopping with the VOD
we went to London Drugs so she could get a coffee pot
they didn't have the one she wanted so we went to Zellers
they didn't have the one she wanted so we went to Winners
they didn't have the one she wanted so we went to Home Hardware
they didnt' have the one she wanted so we went to CDN tire
they didn't have the one she wanted either
so I says...what is it that yer looking for mom?
and she says...cheap!

fuck me...I just spent 10.00 in gas!

then we go to Thriftys
and she buys groceries
and she makes such a big deal outta the kid that's packin
not squishin her avocados
that he packs 75 lbs of canned goods
in one bag
and 2 fucking avocados in another

I GIVE UP!

Chapter 58

the sound: Liza Minelli – Money, Abba – Money, Flying Lizards – Money, Cyndi Lauper – Money, The Beatles – Money, 50 Cent – Money, Ludacris – Money, AC/DC – Money, Rush – Money, Pink Floyd - Money

We arrived at the hospital in time to see the bustle of activity of the hospital staff around the box of the truck.

Boomer parked the bike and I jumped off as I watched them physically pry Rosie off of BarnYard and shove her out of the way. Robert and Greybeard stood off to the side, looking for the first time since I’d met them, helpless.

I watched as the trauma team moved BarnYard onto a gurney and rushed him inside leaving us all in their wake. Someone was sitting astride him on the gurney and I was pretty sure that didn’t look good.

Some of the boys moved up to stand near Robert and Grey as many of the women, myself included, moved towards Rosie. I heard gruff pronouncements from the men that “the Dr’s would take BarnYard….or else!”

As I stood in front of Rosie I realized that I’d seen that kind of look on someone’s face before. Mine, the night Michael had died.

Rosie’s face was devoid of expression, her blood covered hands and arms were cold to the touch. I looked into her eyes and realized that she wasn’t quite there, there was an emptiness I’d not seen in her before. She was trembling and hunched around herself as if she were cold.

I wrapped my arm around her shoulders and pushed through the group of women and then the group of men as I headed for the door of the emergency ward, Rosie in tow. “Classic shock” I thought as I wracked my brain trying to remember what I’d learned in that first aid course my father had forced me to take when I was young.

All the while I kept up a running patter of “it’ll be ok Rosie, you did everything right, he’ll be fine, you’ll see, the Dr’s will take care of him, you have nothing to worry about, lets just get you warmed up” etc.

We entered the hospital and headed towards the desk, a nurse looked up and saw all the blood on Rosie’s clothes and raced around the counter to us. I explained that she wasn’t hurt, and the blood wasn’t hers, but that she’d held her brother’s wounds all the way into town.

The nurse and I turned to look at Rosie as the trembling increased to flat out shaking that could have probably been called convulsing and in doing so I realized I could hear her teeth clacking together like some kind of eerie drum beat. The nurse barked orders at someone and a man appeared with a wheel chair and a blanket.

“I could feel him slipping away Baby” Rosie said softly to me as they wheeled her away.

I shook my head as I turned to head back towards the doors only to find, standing in a quiet group, Robert, GreyBeard, Boomer and all the others that had come into town with us. I’d not even heard them come in behind us, so intent I’d been on Rosie

I looked to their right and through a window to see a rather large waiting room. “Good thing it’s large” I thought, “we’re liable to be here for a while.”

I headed into the waiting room, trailed by a gaggle of bikers. I flopped down to slump tiredly on a couch and found myself almost immediately flanked by Greybeard and Robert. My back stiffened as I wondered what was next.

I sat there mutely watching the rest of the people that had arrived with us file into the room and take seats in little groups around us. I heard Snot making a phone call to check in on Wizard, the fellow that’d gone down and those that stayed behind with him as I held myself rigidly still between these two huge men.

Out of the corner of my eye Greybeard leaned his head slightly towards me and I turned to look at him.

“Thank you for looking to Rosie, Baby…I’m afraid we were all too preoccupied with getting Barry here to see what this whole fucking thing was doing to her,” the big man spoke, “ she’s always been the closest to Barry” he added.

“no big” I mumbled, tremendously unsure of myself.

Robert shuffled his weight about on the seat beside me and I swung around to look at him. He looked uncomfortable, as if he’d found himself in unfamiliar territory as he quietly said “uh yeah thanks”

I could’ve stopped myself…but mostly because I’ve never been one to think before I speak…I smarted…“well ya know? This all coulda been avoiding if ya just hadn’t a shot yer fuckin brother!”

Robert shifted up stiffly in his seat as all conversation in the waiting room came to a complete stop.

Saturday, April 19, 2008

Chapter 57

the sound: Joe Cocker – Many Rivers, Annie Lennox – Love Song for a Vampire, Procul Harum – Whiter Shade of Pale, Ottmar Leibert – After the Rain

Again, it seemed for an instance, that time stood still while I looked about me with incredulity at the position I found myself in.

I saw with complete clarity the shocked look on Robert’s face, and the look of disgust that overcame GreyBeard’s, and then the fear on Rosie’s.

I looked down from their faces to their hands, to see Grey’s wrapped in Robert’s shirt, Robert still loosely holding the pistol and Rosie’s fingers flexing nervously as if she was missing something to hold onto.

I looked down at the heap of naked man laying in a jumble at their feet and had a brief moment to remember that this face of “sleeping” serenity was some mother’s son, as well as one of the fucking prankster’s that had got me here in the first place before people sprang into action all over the field.

Before I knew it there were people bustling about getting ready to leave, Grey and Robert had loaded BarnYard into the flatbed of a pickup with Rosie poised over him holding compress’s to his blood streaked hip and buttock, front and back.

A brief struggle ensued while the elder brothers “debated” over who was driving. Rosie screamed something virtually unintelligible about “arteries” at them and Robert hung on for one second more before slumping in defeat and running around to climb into the passenger seat while Grey hopped in and the truck roared to life.

As I watched the lights of the truck fishtail up the hill towards the main road, I felt more than saw Boomer race by me, grabbing my hand and towing me to where his motorcycle was parked. All around me the sound of motorcycles starting with little or no conversation as everyone mounted up and followed the truck in a long procession.

Boomer and I were about mid group as we hit the highway and I was thinking about how I’d always loved the “look” of riding in a group but how it was even “prettier”, if you will, at night.

There was no conversation between Boomer and I and I watched as the formation of riders seemed to fall apart while each and every motorcycle raced its way along to keep up with the truck or to blast around it and move ahead of the truck.

As we entered the outskirts of the city the boys and couples on the lead bikes ran interference at busy city intersections to keep the truck from having to stop. Who knew a city could be so busy traffic wise at 2 in the morning?

At one intersection a bike went over and I had time to briefly see the rider get up as another parked his bike and headed for the driver’s door of the car that had “nudged” his bro as he’d attempted to keep the car out of the intersection.

We blasted past following the truck…the truck that didn’t slow down at all...the truck that went faster even,

“Funny how you never seem to see a cop when you need one” I thought (a thought I’d maybe come to regret later).

Wednesday, April 16, 2008

Sometimes....

There are times
when I watch
other admin professionals
that work here

wander the hallways
go for coffee
stop and have conversations

and I am overwhelmed
with an urge
for a job
that doesn’t involve
the kind of frenzied nature
that we have here

and then I wake up
cos I know that would bore me

It’s not even
a case
of "the grass is always greener..."

I’d just like
one or two days a month
where we could not have a list
of “stuff”
that needs urgent attention!

that would be nice on occasion
and not because I’d like to be lazy…

I used to think
when I left the call center
to work at an institution
of higher learning
that I would
never again
work at that kind of
monitored
frenzied pace

Now I think
that my work at the call center
just prepared me for
and set me up for
some success’
here!

Tuesday, April 15, 2008

Again....

Monday, April 14, 2008

Gravedigger

3 Questions

Here's the deal...I post the questions and my answers....
you copy and answer me via my comments...


Three jobs I have had in my life: bartender, skinner, administrative manager

Three places I have lived: Toronto ON , Thunder Bay ON, Victoria BC

Three shows that I watch: Lost, the Hills, CSI

Three places I have been: Montreal, Vancouver, Minneapolis

Three people who e-mail me regularly: Bee, Louie, Eddy

Three of my favorite foods: Chocolate, Chocolate,Chocolate

Three places I'd rather be right now: Ireland, Florida, California

Three friends I think will respond: Bee, Louie, West Coaster

Three things I am looking forward to this year: hollydaze, a raise, riding!

Saturday, April 12, 2008

I couldn't give a shit!

I wonder why it is
that I just can't seem
to give a shit
what my house looks like?

I mean
really?
I don't care...

I've seen all my friends
hustle and bustle
around their homes
to make things nice
and I can't seem to give a shit

I'd rather do nothing
than make pretty

is it cos I've been sick for so long?
that I know something has to give
so I just let the housework go
so I dont' have to give up
other parts of my life?

or is that just my excuse?

could it be that I'm lazy?
that I just couldn't give a shit

every night before
and as
I go to bed
my head is busy making lists
of all the stuff I need to do
tomorrow
clean the soap skum
offa the bathroom walls
plug in the dishwasher
wash the trike
vaccuum the livingroom
dust every little thang....

and every morning
I get up
and say to myself
"what was it
that was sooooo damn important
that I couldnt' get to sleep last night?"

and every single morning
I shrug....
and move on into my day

cos I couldn't give a shit!

Open Road

Friday, April 11, 2008

hmmmmmmmm

I had dinner with some friends last night
yes
you know who you are

they gave me a bit of a lecture
about how it's been almost a week
since I've posted in here....

today would be a day to catch up
as Hysteria is working from home

so...first
the guy that smashed my truck
seems to be unemployed
so I guess I can kiss the rest of the money
he owes me
goodbye
in a valiant attempt
to make my cup half full
at least I got some of it
cos I almost didn't

I didn't post in here
that I'd purchased a new car
during my week off
I bought a 2008 Yaris
during that week I was off
and it's a little Ladybug...
but the "new car smell" is killing me

during the week off
I had quite the convo with the bother
about how I just can't live next door
to the VOD and wait for her to die
I just can not do it
as a result
he's had a talk with her
and she is starting to respect
some of the boundaries I've been
trying to establish
over the last 10 years

which, of course
begs the question
why does she listen to the bother
and not me?
but hell
beggars can't be choosers

and truly
I had no idea
how much my feelings
of being trapped
was locked into
my feelings of obligation
because of her car

and altho many of you
told me so
the purchase of the car
has been freeing on a level
I surely didn't expect

funnily enough
it's been freeing
on a financial level

my first large purchase
since circumstances
beyond my control
aka that dirtbag Danny
forced me into bankruptcy
and shame
10 years ago

so...maybe it's the sunshine
and maybe it's that at almost 53
I've taken another small step
towards being an adult

I feel better.

oh
and Bear?
it's isn't a fucking tumor brother
it's sciatica
so SNAP OUTTA IT!
and don't forget to loosen the tinfoil in yer hat!

Thursday, April 10, 2008

the big nap

I just wanted to say
that I've not forgotten you all
but I'm currently
busier than a one armed paper hanger

I'll be back...soon!~

Saturday, April 05, 2008

"It's a poor day...

when ya don't learn something"

remember that old adage?

so here's what I've learned recently....

ya get what you pay for...

seems like a pretty simple lesson
but sometimes
I'm a little on the thick side
and have to be force fed
a lesson....

so
if ya go cheap and buy a blender
that has a plastic bottle
and ya live next door
to the VOD
who is completely enamored
with the dry cycle on the dishwasher
the bottle can melt
and change shape

and say ya take that plastic bottle
outta the dishwasher
and put a cup of juice
a banana
a cup of frozen berries
a cup of yogurt
into the plastic bottle
slap on the lid
hit the high button
and walk away

you get fruit smoothie
all over the fucking kitchen!

I'm talkin...alllllllllllllllll over
under the cupboards
on the cupboard doors
on the stove
on the fridge
even on the damn ceiling!

and
if you know that you'll be
late for work if you stay home
to clean up the mess
you leave it and hope for the best

so when you're talkin to the VOD
that morning
and she suggests
that she'll go over
and clean it up for you
but she forgets

you get home
to fruit smoothie
cement
everywhere....

it took a knife
a spatula
and a gallon er 9
of hot water
to clean that mess up
and I found the lid
to said cheap blender
on top of one of the upper cupboards
next to the teapot collection
(that, I might add...needed
to be cleaned anyway!)

yup
ya get what ya pay for!

Thursday, April 03, 2008

Chapter 56

the sound: Marc Broussard – Everybody Dies, Marc Broussard – Come in from the Cold, Marc Broussard - Home

Things went well for a couple of hours until we heard from the far side of the field near the unmistakable sound of BarnYard’s voice howling at the moon a la Zappa “Yippee ti o Ti Ay!”

Over the course of the next hour or two BarnYard would skulk around in the bushes along the outskirts of the property and every few minutes would howl at the top of his lungs: “Yippee ti o Ti Ay!” Each time from a completely different area of the farm.


The first couple of times it was funny. After a while it just became tedious.

I watched as Robert and Grey began to argue about BarnYard’s mental capacities and was able to eavesdrop long enough to realize that Grey blamed Robert’s drug operation for Grey being “not quite right in the head”. Robert’s response was that Barnyard (Barry) had never been right in the head so it really didn’t matter what he let BarnYard do.

Over the course of time the argument became more ridiculous and more and more heated. The eternal spat between siblings and it would not have surprised me at all for one of them to utter the words "ya well mom loved you more than she loved me" or "you were always the golden child" like a 9 year old.


Ever the astute observer I glanced up from a reprieve in the arguing to see that most everyone had left the fire but for myself, Rosie and her brothers.

The silence was punctuated with the sound of a gun being drawn.

“Crap! Here we go again” I thought…closely followed by “do you think they’ll notice if I just get up and meander over behind that big tree?”

Robert sat with the drawn pistol in one hand and the ever present bottle of Jack in the other. Grey was sipping a coke. Grey looked grim and leaned over and called Robert a “mama’s boy” just as BarnYard howled “Yippee ti o Ti Ay!” from the bushes to our left.

Robert snapped around and fired a round at the bushes.


I held my breath.

Grey jumped up and slapped Robert’s hand that held the gun with such vehemence it rocked the big man in his chair.

Robert dropped the bottle of Jack smashing it on the ground.

Rosie stood as if undecided what to do.

Robert rose and stood facing Grey slowly bringing the firearm up between him and his brother.

“that’s the last time” he said.


“not likely” was Grey’s reply.

I caught a streak of movement out of the corner of my eye and realized that it was BarnYard streaking across the field. He was buck nekid, high stepping and screaming at the top of his lungs.

Everyone around the field turned to look at him and he reached Robert shrieking..... “Bobby, Bobby, ya fucker…YA SHOT ME IN THE ASS!” before he collapsed on the ground between Robert and Grey.

Wednesday, April 02, 2008

Humility

every once in a while
I get my eyes opened for me

sometimes it comes in the form
of a compliment from a peer...
and sometimes it comes in listening
to the voice of others....

I've spoken to you before
about the writing of a woman named Crystal
who writes "Boobs, Injuries and Dr Pepper"

Crystal is one of the most intelligent, funny
and gifted on line writers I've ever read
and she is very well read...
each post often garners as many as 100 comments

recently Crystal has been writing a series
not unlike the story I'm currently writing
from my own personal history

only hers is now...not history
it's an erudite epic of grand proportions
and it revolves over/around/through
Crystal experiencing a "breakdown"

I admit when I first began to read
the "Crazy Chronicles"
I was reluctant to get involved
I was somewhat embarrassed for her
I was concerned about her mental health
but not enough to get involved

then over time,
I found myself protective of her
I found myself telling her to continue
to not stop because some boneheads
were sending her emails
suggesting that she was
ruining a good thing

because in my eyes
above all else
blogging isn't about the readership
it's about the writer

one of today's posts on Crystal's blog
is about a monumental occurrence in her life
that also happened to be
a monumental occurrence in mine

I am completely overwhelmed
with the absolute humility
and strength of character
it must take
for this woman
to write the story she's telling
in such detail
without
coming
completely
off
the
rails.
and
I am obliged
to experience
through her writing
a catharsis
of my own...

I am humbled.

Tuesday, April 01, 2008

Chapter 55

the sound: Frank Zappa – Dinah Moe Humm, Frank Zappa – I’m the Slime, Frank Zappa – Be-Bop Tango, Frank Zappa – Cosmic Debris, Frank Zappa – Whipping Post, Frank Zappa – What Kind of Girl, Frank Zappa – Titties and Beer, Frank Zappa - Montana

I sat in the garage for a while, listening to the music and then got up and headed out the door to the fire. People had been eating goat on and off but I’d pretty much decided that I wasn’t gonna go there…and made do with some cheese and a bun offa the table.

I sat in a chair by the fire just watching and listening to the bits of conversation I could hear and surreptitiously watched the interaction between Grey, Robert, BarnYard and Rosie.

Watching them for a while made me realize what I hadn’t seen before…they were family…and had been for a long time…their mannerism and speech patterns where the same and all three of them were quick to laugh and quick to anger.


“I might be movin' to Montana soon
Just to raise me up a crop of Dental Floss
Raisin' it up
Waxen it down
In a little white box
I can sell uptown
By myself I wouldn't
Have no boss,
But I'd be raisin' my lonely Dental Floss
Raisin' my lonely Dental Floss
Well I just might grow me some bees
But I'd leave the sweet stuff
For somebody else...but then, on the other hand
I'd Keep the wax N' melt it down
Pluck some Floss N' swish it aroun'
I'd have me a crop
An' it'd be on top
(that's why I'M movin' to Montana)
Movin' to Montana soon
Gonna be a Dental Floss tycoon
(yes I am)
Movin' to Montana soon
Gonna be a mennil-toss flykune
I'm pluckin' the ol' Dennil Floss
That's growin' on the prairie
Pluckin' the floss!
I plucked all day an' all nite an' all
Afternoon...I'm ridin' a small tiny hoss
(His name is MIGHTY LITTLE)
He's a good hoss
Even though
He's a bit dinky to strap a big saddle or
Blanket on anyway
He's a bit dinky to strap a big saddle or
Blanket on anyway
Any way I'm pluckin' the ol' Dennil Floss
Even if you think it is a little silly, folks
I don't care if you think it's silly, folks
I don't care if you think it's silly, folks
I'm gonna find me a horse
Just about this big
An' ride him all along the border line
With a Pair of heavy-duty
Zircon-encrusted tweezers in my hand
Every other wrangler would say
I was mighty grand
By myself I wouldn't
Have no boss
But I'd be raisin' my lonely Dental Floss
Raisin' my lonely Dental Floss
Raisin' my lonely Dental Floss
Well I might Ride along the border
With my tweezers gleamin'In the moon-lighty night
And then I'd
Get a cuppa cawfee
N' give my foot a push...
Just me 'n the pymgy pony
Over the Dennil Floss Bush
N' then I might just
Jumb back on
An' ride Like a cowboy
Into the dawn to Montana
Movin' to Montana soon
(Yippy-Ty-O-Ty-Ay)
that's why I'm moving to Montana soon