Looks like another lump of coal again

As Christmas makes it way toward us and people begin to feel the holiday spirit I believe that it's truly important to re-evaluate our lives to discover that, which not only provides us with intense satisfaction, but also makes the world a much, much better place

Babes, Booze, Cash and Partying!

This holiday season forget the charitable feeling and have yourself a good 'ol time.
Go out and score yourself some dope, stock up on booze plenty of booze.
The party ends when the juice stops flowing!

Don't forget to invite the boring, rich uncle to finance the whole thing. Besides you can always use him for an ice run and to help you with the inevitable day-after clean-a-thon .
Don't waste that hard earned, devalued cash on someone else. Treat yourself selfishly this year.
If you really feel the need to have the Christmas spirit around you this holiday season.
You don't have to invite Santa. Not unless he's bringing a better bag of toys to play around with
I want my year end party to turn out this way. Hey! isn't that Mr.T in the background?

What's on your Christmas list?

No man is an island,

yet there's no stopping him from creating one.

My backyard has looked like shit for more than a year. Now, it's not really mine, but seeing how I live closest to it I decided to spend the day cleaning it up a bit.

I got more than I bargained for....Start with a veritable jungle of bamboo like reeds and serious undergrowth.

Hack out a path while whistling the theme song for Indiana Jones

Widen the path and then take a break...It's been over an hour.

Change direction and work on the under brush and vines that grow under my balcony.

Contemplate the folly of my descision to do this with hand tools...It's been three hours now.

Never say die!

Finally after a morning and the better part of the afternoon I have cleard the entire area leaving only a small island of bamboo in the middle of the clearing.

Time to start shaping the reeds to give them a sense of balance.

I'm done and done for!
You can't really tell from the photo but this was a fairly large field and the grove I created ought to look really nice once the snow starts falling. I did a fair bit of damage to my hand during the task acouple o' skratches and at one point a sharpened end of a reed got shoved between my knuckles. Boy, I hate when that happens. This was a good day, but I'm sure I'll be paying for it later.
How was your sunday?

Gathering

Click here, or here, here, here, here, here, here,
maybe here or here. Try this or this one
How about this. Then there's this one and here's another.

I believe that if I really tried I could come up with plenty more examples.
See if you can't find something I haven't and post it in the comments area.

It happens unexpectedly, yet we are no longer surprised by it's occurrence. The recovery time for the shock and horror has decreased significantly- and we are unaffected. It is becoming precarious to go about your daily business without thinking that at any moment some pathetic fool will have decided that he or she wants to go out with a bang and take as many innocents as possible with them as a vanguard to Valhalla.

I realize that we all go about our business day after day and week after month without mishap; without thought of pandemonium breaking out. Yet I have noticed that people are distancing themselves from others. Are we starting to reverse the natural trait of gathering in tribes and condensing in towns and cities to become xenophobes, locked away in our homes, afraid to venture outside?

It seems to me that there are a significant amount of people who are unable to cope with the pressures of society, maybe they are uncertain of their place in it. One segment is choosing to isolate themselves from the general public. Others are trying to tear down society and rip it apart.

Will our inability to live with each other in peaceful co-existence cause a migration into the countryside and hermitage, where we will relate to others long distance through the medium of Internet and mobile telecommunications. The trend has been developing for quite some time. I have seen couples on dates texting each other rather than engaging in verbal correspondence

Where does the rage come from?
Are we naught, but toddlers encased in adult bodies?
Why has the value of life depreciated so thoroughly in the last two generations?
Do the physicians truly believe that all the pills they prescribe for people really help?

Why is it that we can create the most amazing tools, fabulous computer generated entertainment, space travel and stations and machines that afford an easier existence, yet we cannot figure out how to feed the needy, find work for the sound, get rid of the weapons, the hatred, injustice and worst of all ignorance.

I know this is not well thought out and I ramble on without direction, but this is merely a single post on a web log that will not be read by many people. I wonder what ideas the people who do come to visit think about all this.

Why is the world coming apart when we have, now more than at any other point in human history, the ability to move in the opposite direction.

Wait! I've been thinking about energy too.

I couldn't find any naked pictures to go with this post.

Who needs the GhostBusters?

I am a 100% bona-fide, tie-dyed in the wool, super hero!
That's right! I am not joking.
I ought to get a pair of tights and some ridiculous footwear and go professional or at least see if I can join the local chapter of the union.

I am a super hero! There's no doubt about it. Not some kinda secret one either. The whole neighborhood knows about it. Men want to shake my hand and women want a lock of my hair. Children want to be like me and my when my wife talks about me, her eyes glisten in teary happiness and pride.

Some folks see me this way.

I am a super hero! Now I guess this is going to have to be explained for not everyone is prepared to accept that statement at face value. Not even my cat, Leonine, and she was witness to the entire episode.

Images are derived from a great amount of poetic licence

Are you ready? Do you have your popcorn and beverage?

I am a super hero!

And we'll see if you agree with me. Yesterday morning I woke up and was feeling like I did on almost any other morning, especially on a Monday morning. I didn't want to get up. I thought that sleeping in would have been the more comfortable of two evils and, but alas I had to take my beast to the vet, so I made my way through the murky morning routine and got my butt into gear and out of the house.



I am a super hero!

For while I was waiting for the light to turn green at the rather busy intersection at the bottom of the hill from where my residence is located, I spied a dachshund running willy nilly across the road and out into the middle of traffic!



I am a super hero!

Because without any thought for either Leonine's safety nor mine nor anyone else's, I ran that red light and Chased that dog down the road in my car. He (of course I knew it was a "he", I am a super hero! )Had crossed the center line and was rushing straight for a city bus - Girls hold on to your boyfriends here- With my horn blaring I drove up the wrong side of the road and got the bus to stop then before the dumb ass dog could go any further I blocked off traffic with my van and jumped out of the car.



I am a super hero! It's true! I was not hampered by the constant wailing of the feline in the passenger seat nor by any sensible thoughts that would run through a lesser man.

This is not the actual dog

I got the dog into a cul de sac and after an indeterminable moment I got my hands on the collar. After soothing the creatures frayed nerves I wrapped him up in a blanket (Super hero's are prepared for everything.) and drove both little lost doggie and noisy cat to the veterinarian. A little girl super hero caught up to me after I had already captured the pooch and her mother followed shortly thereafter. They were hampered by traffic laws that I decided to ignore.

This is just a picture I found on the Internetnot the real dog.

I am a super hero! Not because I saved that darned dogs life. But because that dumb-ass dog was blind! Literally!! The doctor knew who the owner was and contacted him right away. He'd been lost for a night and a day and when I met the owner it was all I could do not to use my super strength and knock him silly.

They ought to put up a statue of the pup.

I may not actually be a super hero, but yesterday, for a short time I felt like one.

Aaaaaaha ha ha ha haahhhhhh! Yarrrr!

I got both hands, my arm, feet and soul around the thing called "the weekend".
Now If you just happen to be a fan of rock n roll and you just happen to like Queen AND you find that you have 'Crazy little thing called love' in your collection. Get up from your desk and get the CD or open the appropriate file in your system and play the song. While you listen you can "Read More" and enjoy the tune with a different twist.

This thing called Blog - I have to post today!
this thing, web log, it makes me use my brain.
Let's all jump in
Our little world of Blog.
The folks (The folks) who call (who call)
comment (Never Lazy)
At the click of a mouse.
They swing (Woo Woo)
and laugh (Woo Woo)
misspell words almost every time,
I kinda like it
My stupid little world of blog

I'm posting music.
Because I like the Rock n' roll .
(it) don't mean I'm lazy
I just can't think of something
That makes me seem intelligent.

I gotta find jokes and quips and words
To make you laugh.
Type some words, to make you think.
And maybe just raise a valid point
We're all ready
Do a silly thing called blog

I gotta find jokes and quips and words
To make you laugh.
Type some words, to make you think.
And possibly raise a political stink
We're all ready (fingers steady)
Type a silly thing called blog

We write our Blogs, we just can't stop ourselves.
We write our Blogs, we just do what comes right.
Raise your voices!
Crazy little thing called Blog
Our little thing called Blog
Our little world called Blog
Tiny little world called Blog
It's what we do, we Blog!
Get off your ass and Blog
Go ahead and read a Blog
Crazy little thing called Blog

Bored. Yeah, so what else is new.

like everyone else, I get bored.
When that happens, I get silly. I have done so many stupid things in my life in order to keep ennui at a distance that I am surprised that I haven't spent more time in the emergency room than I already have.

Some of the things done to prevent the onset of the doldrums:
Garbage diving while very drunk on Wray and Nephews overproof rum.
Climbing a seven story scaffold to pull down a sign.
Jumping out of an airplane. (I did have help with that one.)
Cliff diving at a place called the Devil's Hole near Bear Mountain state park. I also slid down a waterfall on the same day.
Bushwhacking through rattlesnake country in Yosemite.
Walking naked- well almost naked in sub zero temperatures in a winter festival in Japan.

Stupid, yet fun. That's what I am all about.

103

I took this test and I answered the questions as best as I could. Never expected this as the result.

Your result for The What's your sexual style? Test...TYPE P

You are a KINKY, CONFIDENT, DOMINANT lover who prefers to give.

This means that:

You like relatively kinky sex, and you have the great imagination that will always keep your partner guessing and excited! There's no getting bored with you around, you could never settle for dull sex, you want something fun and new all the time. You aren't afraid to try out anything you hear about. You might just be an intelligent lover who needs to be mentally engaged, or perhaps you have some dirty dark secret kinky desires, but either way, you're never boring.

You are pretty confident in bed. This means that you know you can please your lover. Maybe you've read a lot of sex manuals, or have the experience from previous lovers, or just tend to be skilled at whatever you get your hands on, but you're good and you know it. You can really get results and know that you have pure talent, so you won't be hiding away shy, pretending to be all innocent. Your partners love your naughty self assurance, you don't hesitate and this makes you a sensational lover.

You tend to be dominant in bed, so you prefer to be the one giving the orders than taking them. Maybe you like the power, or just like controlling the pace, perhaps your partner likes to be dominanted, or maybe you get a kick out of the whole master/slave relationship, it could be something as small as liking to be on top during sex and tie up your lover to tease them, or it could be as kinky as them having to ask your permission to do anything at all. Either way, you are firm and you enjoy it!

You prefer to give than recieve. This makes you a very unselfish lover, devoted to the needs of your partner rather than your own. You get your pleasure from seeing them get theirs, you are a model sex partner. I'm sure plenty of people would love to have someone like you in bed with them! Remember though that if your partner gets pleasure from returning the favour it's okay to let them, they might love giving as much as you do!

WE SUGGEST YOU:
get into some slightly more hardcore fantasy territory. Go for bondage in a not so light and fluffy way and discover just what you really like. Want to play master/slave games? Want to be tied up or tie someone up, in just enough discomfort that they don't quite relax? Want to try a threesome? Maybe you'd even like to try out sado-masochism. It's your call. Whatever you do, unleash that kinky thing you've always really wanted to try and give it a go, you're a great lover, and you know it, up for anything, generous, imaginative, confident, and happy to go for what you want, so enjoy.

If you are bored you can waste some time finding out about your sexual nature.Take The What's your sexual style? Test at HelloQuizzy

What are friends for?

I have been doing more blogging this week than I have for the past two months.
The only problem is that I am doing it for a friend. Someone very close to me.
The Silly Monster went to see a doctor for a check up and got lassoed into a full battery of extremely embarrassing tests.
The docs didn't like the results so they've kept him there an extra day and a half doing more invasive procedures and keeping him off the sauce for almost three days now. I'm pretty sure he's getting antsy and feels like stomping some people.
I get daily updates to his condition, not all that good, through requests to do his posting for him. (yes, that means I have total access to his blog.)
What do you do with a friend who is constantly needing your supervision and help? I sure do feel sorry for his wife AKA: the Vixen. Although more fun than a barrel full of monkeys, this guy could make Mother Theresa lose her cool.
I do have to be thankful though. If it weren't for The Monster I might not have logged in under my own name and actually written anything for myself, so when he complains about the lousy job I did, I'll just bite my tongue and let him rant.

After all, he is the black sheep of the family.

Stay stompy, monster.

The Fartist

We all have, to a lesser or greater degree, something we excell at. My wife seems to think my genius lies in the expulsion of noxious methane gas in syncopatic rythms. As she chased me around the room with bottle of Fabreeze in hand, I recalled a ditty from days past. I have been a long time fan of the limerick. Now although this is a long one, I promise you It is one of the finer examples of the artform and sums up my feelings perfectly. Off to play the tuba, squeeze a duck, whatever...

The Magnificent Farter From Sparta

There was a young fellow from Sparta,

A really magnificent farter,On the strength of one bean

He'd fart God Save the Queen,

And Beethoven's Moonlight Sonata.

He could vary, with proper persuasion,

His fart to suit any occasion.

He could fart like a flute,Like a lark, like a lute,

This highly fartistic Caucasian.

This sparkling young farter from Sparta,

His fart for no money would barter.

He could roar from his rear

Any scene from Shakespeare,

Or Gilbert and Sullivan's Mikado.

He'd fart a gavotte for a starter,

And fizzle a fine serenata.

He could play on his anus

The Coriolanus:

Oof, boom, er-tum, tootle, yum tah-dah!

He was great in the Christmas Cantata,

He could double-stop fart the Toccata,

He'd boom from his ass

Bach's B-minor Mass,

And in counterpoint, La Traviata.

Spurred on by a very high wager

With an envious German named Bager,

He proceeded to fart

The complete oboe part

Of a Haydn Octet in B-major.

His repertoire ranged from classics to jazz,

He achieved new effects with bubbles of gas.

With a good dose of salts

He could whistle a waltz

Or swing it in razzamatazz.

Hi basso profundo with timbre so rare

He rendered quite often, with power to spare.

But his great work of art,

His fortissimo fart,

He saved for the Marche Militaire.

One day he was dared to perform,

The William Tell Overture Storm,

But naught could dishearten

Our spirited Spartan,

For his fart was in wonderful form.

It went off in capital style,

And he farted it through with a smile,

Then, feeling quite jolly,

He tried the finale,

Blowing double-stopped farts all the while.

The selection was tough, I admit.

But it did not dismay him one bit,

Then, with ass thrown aloft

He suddenly coughed...

And collapsed in a shower of shit.

His bunghole was blown back to Sparta,

Where they buried the rest of our farter,

With a gravestone of turds

Inscribed with the words:"

To the Fine Art of Farting, A Martyr."

A truly horrible human being

The prince of prevaricators, a deacon of deception and a whore of hellacious proportions.
I forced myself to look into the mirror (literally) for as long as I could and was disgusted by what I saw after after a fairly brief interval of time. I have so many shortcomings as a husband, son, brother friend and employer that I cannot even consider allowing myself to accept the labels that those nonclemanture bequeath.
I constantly tell people what they like to hear rather than what I truly think because I don't have the inclination to justify my opinions. No longer do I make any effort to improve life at home for I am exausted by the futility of such endeavors and whatever complaints my family make to me are simply rejoined with "You are so right, that is unfair"
I honestly don't give a shit about anything anymore. I maintain politeness and try to get by without making any waves.
Castrated and ineffecual I find solace in solitary contemplation and an alcoholic fog.
I lack the will power to pick myself up out of the mire I have created and divert the energy to more ambitious and positive projects.
The constant physical pain I experience, although neither excruciating nor terribly debillitating has turned me into a pill popping moron.
All of my energies of late have been spent improving the facade and not the soul. I make certain that I excell everyone's expectations of how I should appear. I seem dutiful, caring, attentive well groomed and disgustingly cheerful, but an x-ray would reveal a cancer of unhappiness, anger and despair.
Forty two winters. forty two verdant springtimes, sultry summers and melancholy autumns.
I think I could have done it better....

Rewriting Herstory.

In the beginning, actually it was before the beginning, but not all of the beginnings, God noticed that it was impossible, well, maybe not impossible, but really tough, to read a wristwatch in the dark and said.
Let there be light.
And the word caused the creation of not only light, but of all the neon signs, lamp and lighting stores, pachinko parlors, Las Vegas, department stores, the electric company, Times square and of course the meter reader man.
God looked down upon all this and saw that it was incomplete, so she decided to go shopping.
She went to the nursery and bought the trees and flowers, the grassy plains and furious jungles. She placed them carefully around the globe according to the strictest adherence to feng- shui principals.
A local pet shop provided her with lots of soft fuzzy creatures to compliment the flowers and shrubbery. Upon exiting the pet store she spied a building that she had overlooked before. It was large, had a loading dock and in front of it were parked dozens of pick-up trucks. God whipped out her zircon encrusted opera glasses and inspected things a little more carefully. Home depot, Hmmm..... What could that be?
An instantaneous, omnipotent scan told her that this was not a place for her nor any creature similar to her. It did give her an idea though. She'd create a being most suited to utilize a shop such as this . Try as she might, this was one thing that eluded her. She had no clue as to the workings of the mind that would search out and patronize such an establishment. This was a job for one of her underlings. Actually, one specific minion who didn't see eye to eye with her, so she'd had him tossed.
Her boy Louie, took one look at his former boss and knew lickedy split just what was needed to get the job done. One bright green flash of light and a bit of smoke was all that was needed to conceal the little bit of his magic from gods prying eyes. His creation just happened to look like him and was a complete enigma to her godliness. Seeing a good thing and not wanting to waste any time on an original thought of her own she whipped up a likeness in her image. Louie didn't much like being plagiarised and started to complain when the goddess struck a bargain with him. Being all powerful has some advantages when "negotiating" contracts. Louie sold out and got his own digs where he could do what he wanted without any outside interference. That seemed like a good thing and he passed that idea along to his dude at the depot. Eventually Lou's man and god's woman, Who not to be out done she had to be more than man, she is a "WO", met and realized that there were some interesting differences between them.
They thought it might be a good idea to get together and figure out what those differences were. Little did they know about God's twisted humor and Louie's sense of irony....

It's FU*&%#-NG Sunday fer chrissakes

Blurry eyed and brain dead I drag myself out of bed and stagger over to the window to find out just what the hell is happening outside.
There is this sound, a god awful racket that makes me think that the self defence forces are playing war games in my backyard. It turns out to be my neighbors. Gathered together with their children for recycling day.
The women are gossiping and laughing while the brats are having a snowball fight and everyone has brought every empty beer can and juice bottle that they have saved up for the past two months and are seperating them into these huge crates to be picked up by the city's garbge service.
The noise of dozens of garbage bags filled with aluminum cans being poured into the crates simultaneously is huge and palpable. The clatter of bottles crashing against each other sets my nerves on edge and makes me twitch and curse like I have turets syndrome. I was looking forward to spending the morning in bed but now I find myself sitting in front of my computer with a cuban breakfast and a bit of nicotine ranting as fast as my fuzzy brain and spastic fingers can go.

The best laid schemes o’ mice and men Gang aft agley;An’ lea’e us nought but grief an’ pain, For promis’d joy!
-Robert Burns-

The agony of defeat

More than any other sporting event, I enjoy the winter olympics. There lots of unusual events that hold my attention better than the ones held during the summer games. Luge, skeleton, curling, biatholon, but there is also snowboarding. A passion for me during the long winter months here in Morioka. At the time of writing this it is totally depressing to realize that Japan has not won any medals in the winter olympics in Turin. Yet worse than that was to watch the agonizing finish of the woman's bordercross, OUCH!
Lindsey Jacobellis had the gold medal in her hands she was so far ahead that the other riders were in a different time zone, but she couldn't resist a stylish grab on the final jump. She sure looked good in the air for about two seconds but when she failed to stick the landing all I could do was slap my forehead. While she was sprawled out in the snow and trying to make a recovery the Swiss rider zipped by and snatched the gold medal right out of her hands. I bet she's gonna be watching the video clip from that race and banging her head against the walls for quite some time, thinking why oh why did I have to style it?