Monday, December 25, 2006


What a merry Xmas! It's my personal tradition that every December 25th I pop a bottle of cheap champagne and imbibe before sunrise as I contemplate the end of the giant consumer season and the birthday of the celebrated carpenter/philosopher known as Jesus.
This fluid didn't come from the Mumm cellars in Rheims or from Dom Perignon's monestary. It came from the J. Roget Champagne Cellars of Canandaigua, NY and cost about 4 bucks a pop. Yeah, baby! That's what I call cheap champagne. Fortunately, I know how to handle bruts such as this. A sugar cube at the bottom of a flute glass with a dash of bitters makes the most vile bubbly a tasty, mind-numbing experience. As I sat in my easy chair with crystal vessel in hand, watching the bubbles drift upward in my champagne cocktail, I realized the significance of it all.
Making a champagne cocktail out of cheap champagne is like taking a bum, bathing him and dressing him in your dad's new suit. He may look like your dad but he's still just a sweet-smelling bum. But... If the clothes make the man then adulteration makes the drink. It's not Crystal, but if I could afford such luxury I wouldn't be drinking J. Roget champagne cocktails.
Of course, man cannot live by champagne cocktails alone. Soft-boiled eggs followed by biscuits and gravy and another bottle served as the morning feast even a Methodist could love. Dinner consisted of crab legs, drawn butter, biscuits and the last of the champagne. Pighin Pinot Grigio, and Cavit Pinot Noir were drained next and my living quarters were littered with dead soldiers.
The messiah's birthday and dead soldiers as far as the eye can see. I guess there IS balance in the universe.
I'm so glad the age of Pisces is over.

Monday, December 18, 2006

it's not just a car...

Just an update on the engine thing. As promised, the car was finished by 5pm friday. I stopped by the shop on my way through town, about 4pm, to check things out and the new engine was humming along perfectly. I was impressed and even more so when I realized what these guys had to do to make it so. Intake and exhaust manifolds had to be changed as well as all the other periferal appliances and a few small parts that no one thought about. All it needed was a thermostat and hood but here was my baby, the angry car, joyfully excersizing all 100 horses in a symphony of Mopar harmony. The mechanic told me Mike, the owner, said a car will be coming in thursday morning for an engine swap and had to be finished by friday night. He said, "Are you nuts? It can't be done". The owner said, "It WILL be done". Well, he was pretty damned pleased with himself when the job was completed on time. After he took it for a test he came back and told Mike what a fun ride it was and insisted he take it for a spin, too.
Since I got this machine there have been only 5 people who had the honor of sitting behind the wheel and all of them climbed out with smiles and positive comments. Mike said it best... "Anyone can get a car but when you find one that you love ya gotta take care of it." At that point he realized why I opted for an engine swap over buying another vehicle. I guess that philosophy applies to any relationship whether it's your lover, your friend, your job, or yourself.

Saturday morning Mike called me at home to see how the car's running. When was the last time you got a call from your mechanic just to see if everything's ok?

Some valuable lessons were learned through this experience.

1. Convincing a mechanic to complete an engine swap in half the time really boosted my managerial ego.
2. These guys became better mechanics by doing, what they thought was, an impossible task by over-riding common sense with directed, positive, willpower.
3. Their customers will benefit and Mikes business will prosper because if it.
4. Relationships, whatever they may be, are pretty damned important and ya gotta take care of em.
5. The karmic implications were more widespread than I could've imagined and further reinforced my belief that I can get whatever I want.
6. At long last, I found my mechanic.

Godam, do I feel blessed!

Friday, December 15, 2006

what's with this fortune?

Long story short, I blew a head gasket in my car a few weeks ago. White smoke, erratic engine behavior and cold air coming from the heater was the tip-off, and it was obvious I wasn't getting through this winter without some major auto headaches. In our age of planned obsolescence, the majority of car owners in this country would simply scrap the car and get another, due to the cost of repair compared to book value. Well, I happen to like this particular vehicle. A '94 caravan 2.5 means fixing a head gasket isn't as easy or as cheap as it was repairing the same problem in a 318 or slant six. This fix requires removing the head and taking it to a centralized shop that specializes in magnaflux and checking the head for warp and microscopic cracks these little engines are famous for. Gone are the small shops in the rear of auto part stores that do it while you wait. Now, you need to take it to a larger shop that will keep it at least a day and up to eternity simply because they can. After the testing they determine if the head is still good, in which case you can spend a couple hundred to rebuild it, or if it's bad you can buy a remanufactured head for an average of $450. Even if I found a remanufactured head, this process could take 3 days, at the very least, with a cost of around $750. Ouch!
The yuppie garage I took it to first gave me the impression they didn't need my business because "It's the busy time of the year" and they have enough SUVs, Hunmmers, and bourgeoismobiles to keep them going with tune-ups, oil changes, tire sales, and other easy, high profit jobs to keep their sales staff in good position for bonus time.
A little bit about where I live... Rural yuppie central. Picture Green Acres with half the farms bought by the Douglas's friends, and Hooterville still has the same one-room post office and you can't get ahold of the police department until after 4pm., 'cause there ain't no crime in the valley, but town meetings are still filled with Oliver Wendell Douglas clones wanting more cops to protect their estates and better roads for their $80,000 off-road SUVs and a full-time fire department to instantly put out fires in their McMansions in the remote possibility of emulation from chestnuts roasting on open fires. And these are the major clients of the garage I took my car to for engine work. What was I thinking?
Ralph told me Chas knows a guy in Berwick who can do this kind of work without a backlog of bullshit, so I gave him a call. After discussing my options and cost we settled on a plan. I always figured rebuilding the head without rebuilding the bottom end of an engine was asking for trouble. If the engine is wearing uniformly, rebuilding half the engine will only increase the other half to go 3 times faster, and the last thing I want is to do a ring job six months from now -- and I know there's been damage because of all the water going through the cylinders, and half my oil is water. Another engine is the only fast solution and the least cost. The funny part is an engine replacement will be almost $300 less than just doing the head gasket. Go figure.
Wednesday night I got Mary to follow me to drop off my car in the dead of night and to get us home. Needless to say, the ride through town in this smoke-making machine was interesting. I had to take side streets to avoid going down the Christmas boulevard, which meant stopping at every light and stop sign in town. Just sitting at the red light at 2nd Street created a cloud so thick you couldn't see the light, let alone the cop car on the corner. By the time I got to the shop and shut off the engine I could see this undissipating mass of white the size of a city block gently floating west. I was expecting the fire department to show up.
You may be wondering what all this has to do with the title. Be patient. I'm getting to that, ok?
We decided to get some Chinese at Jumbo Buffet, and after a half dozen plates of stuff we got out fortune cookies.
I'm not sure what the odds of this is, but this was the first time I got a fortune cookie sans fortune. I mean, just a cookie without a fortune. What does this mean? Do I have no future? Did the cook spit in my food? Was that really pork I ate? When the Chinese waiter came over I asked if he was spiritual. He gave me this look like, "I'm an athiest. What do I know about spiritual?" I then told him I got no fortune in my fortune cookie and asked what he thought it meant. I guess I was expecting some sage Chinese philosophy such as no fotune means vely, vely good luck. You open to all possibilities. But in a very good English accent he said, "Would you like me to get you another cookie?" I suppose expecting all Chinese people to be philosophers would be like Chinese people expecting all Americans to be Elvis. I said, no thanks. This non-fortune is perfect. I took it as an excellent omen and expected the best in a completely unexpected way.
I called the mechanic the next morning, and he had the engine out. It was just nuts and bolts now, and I fully expect to be driving my baby before the weekend.
I guess that WAS a good fortune after all.

Thursday, November 30, 2006

If I read Steinbeck in jr. high I'd be in prison by now

What does it take for you spineless lower sub-strata life forms to stand up and do something besides roll over and play dead? Huh?
I just saw the theatrical version of John Steinbeck's The Pearl and I concluded that these mexicans have alot more on the ball than you do.
These ignorant, water dwelling, primitive, social bottom feeders managed to totally beat and humilitate evil in their midst. Why can't you? Here these people are eking out a living by diving for pearls and you people go to Walmart and buy pears. Talk about pears before swine.
These ignorant half-breeds knew enough about evil to kick it out of their village, no matter how much they wanted the payola from the pearl. What are you guys doin? You're inviting it in the front door and bending over for it to inseminate your already pudrid alementary canal.
I'm not talking about everyone. Just the ones who follow the herd out each morning and back in the gate each night. The people who put up with "the way things are". Well, the way things are has turned into crap because you ARE the way things are. You've turned this world into a fat, complacent, non-thinking, fear-driven, hell hole of banality because all you want to do is go to McDonald's, buy recliners, make money and watch football on tv while you beat off to Jerry Springer. No wonder your wife thinks you're such an asshole.
What do I think you should do? How bout give up the cheetos and locate the nearest soup kitchen and go there and fill up some bowls for a change? Ya into selfish gratification? Try giving to someone else who's not aware of it. The karmic implications are huge. Ya want reward for your servitude? Ain't no better way. Ya wanna fix things? There ain't no better way than starting with YOU. Ya wanna fix the world, get off your dead ass and start doing things besides sucking your own dick, not to put too fine a point on it.
It's alimentary, Dr. Watson.

Thursday, September 21, 2006

lower gas prices

Has anyone noticed the price of gasoline has been coming down lately? Does anyone know why? I can't say for sure, but I have a fairly good idea how it's come about.

For months, whenever I go to the gas station, I only get a few gallons at a time. Sure, I can buy a tankful and drive a lot longer before I fill up again, but the logic is simple. I can't buy less gas than I need, so I just buy it in smaller quantities more often. This means instead of buying 20 gallons, when I stop, I just get 3. If more people did this, which I'm sure they do, the gas stations will ultimately sell less gas and the delivery trucks will come less often. This, in turn, will cause an over-supply for the distributers. And the refineries keep refining gas, non-stop. Before long, they have too much gasoline on their hands, and have to get rid of their supply in order to take in more from the refineries. It's basic supply and demand. They have an overabundance of fuel right now so they have to lower the price to sell it.
I like to make a game of it. I fly into the gas station to get my gas. Usually, the other pumps have SUV's and other cars already pumping gas into their massive tanks. I get out and squeeze a in few drops and tear out of there like I just did a pit stop at the Indy 500, leaving the idiots, who insist on topping off their tanks, still at the pumps. Always, always, always I'm the last one in and the first one out and I'm on the road well before any of them. Ya just don't NEED that much gas. If your car gets 20 mpg you can go 60 miles before you need to look for fuel. Besides, if you fill up your tank with gas that costs $2.69 you won't be able to take advantage of gas at another that might have a much lower cost.

Ok, so ya got yourself a gas guzzling SUV. Are you so lazy you have to shell out $90 on a fill up in one shot just so you don't have to get your fat ass out of your car more than once a week? Why not spread it around? Get a few gallons at this station and a few at the next one. The results are the same but you've done something about the high gas prices by buying what you need instead of what your car can hold. And the refineries keep pumping out the gas.

I say keep thier feet to the fire and don't be fooled by the lower prices. They just want you to fill your tanks again so they can reduce their gasoline glut so they can raise the prices, and they WILL raise the prices.

If we get in the habit of only buying what we need and keep doing this, you'll see the prices drop well below $1.00 a gallon. Isn't that what we all want?

Sunday, September 17, 2006

Muslims Against The World Act 3 scene II

Muslims Against The World Act 3 scene II. Pope Benedict makes his first public comments on his collosal blunder of saying out loud, what everyone else since the first Chrusade have known, that Muslims should cool it and stop being so violent. The very nerve of this pompas popastry! How dare he say such a thing! To make thier point, Muslims killed a nun in Samolia, burned a few Catholic churches, and threatened to escalate the war on Chritianity with even more violence because of the awful things the leader of the Christian world said.

What's wrong with this picture? Isn't this like telling a 2 year old to stop hitting his sister, only to see him beating her with a baseball bat because of what you said?

Let's look at this in a slightly different way. Suppose we just entered a parallel universe where the pope gave a speach saying Muslims were all a bunch of peace-loving pussies and rallied Christiondom to go out and kick some Muslim ass. Mosques burned and imams slaughtered because the peace-loving head of the Muslim world dared to say Christians were too violent.

What do you do if your 2 year old is out of control? How bout a time out and a few lessons on how to act in society?

Tuesday, August 29, 2006

funky crap

I was just listening to classic rock on the radio (WHLM FM 103.5) when the DJ mentioned they play all the good stuff without any crap in between. Crap? This is the very same radio station that edited "shit" from Steve Miller's "Big Ol' Jet Airliner" so it sounded like "funky "kicks" goin' down in the city."

I suppose he was correct... no crap in between. No shit, dung, excrement, turds, scat, BM, fecal waste, defecation, or a hundred other words used to describe the bodily waste we all expel each morning on our evacuation thrones of choice since man produced biological waste. Granted, the radio station didn't actually "edit" shit. They merely chose to play the edited version available at all Walmarts for the overly sensitive ears of one half of one percent of the listening public who still refer to taking a piss as going for a tinkle.

I personally think replacing shit with kicks in Miller's tune changes the whole phrase to something completely different that Miller never wanted, otherwise, he'd make it that way. Shit was the word he wanted and needed but these no talent geeks see fit to change the expression because it might offend some prude in Bumfuck, Egypt. The least they can do is use a word similar to shit. "Funky "excrement" goin' down in the city." "Funky "dung" goin' down in the city." "Funky "BM" goin' down in the city." I don't know about you, but I sure get my kicks when I take a good shit. How 'bout you?


Dear President Bush:

The Presidential Prayer Team is currently urging us to: "Pray for the President as he seeks wisdom on how to legally codify the definition of marriage. Pray that it will be according to Biblical principles. With any forces insisting on variant definitions of marriage, pray that God's Word and His standards will be honored by our government."

Any religious person believes prayer should be balanced by action. So here, in support of the Prayer Team's admirable goals, is a proposed Constitutional Amendment to codify marriage on biblical principles:

A. Marriage in the United States shall consist of a union between one man and one or more women. (Gen29:17-28; II Sam 3:2-5)

B. Marriage shall not impede a man's right to take concubines, in addition to his wife or wives. (II Sam5:13; I Kings 11:3; II Chron 11:21)

C. A marriage shall be considered valid only if the wife is a virgin. If the wife is not a virgin, she shall be executed. (Deut 22:13-21)

D. Marriage of a believer and a non-believer shall be forbidden. (Gen24:3; Num 25:1-9; Ezra 9:12; Neh10:30)

E. Since marriage is for life, neither this Constitution nor the constitution of any State, nor any state or federal law, shall be construed to permit divorce. (Deut 22:19; Mark 10:9)

F. If a married man dies without children, his brother shall marry the widow. If he refuses to marry his brother's widow or deliberately does not give her children, he shall pay a fine of one shoe. (Gen.38:6-10; Deut 25:5-10)

Friday, August 25, 2006

just clowning around

Police arrest several people in clown robbery cases.
Three women and one man were arrested Wednesday in connection with a recent string of robberies committed by a duo dubbed the "clown robbers," officials announced Thursday.

I don't know about you but the fact that crooks are getting creative again fills me with hope and restores my faith a bit. Ok, so they steal but these clowns are robbing the businesses that rob from the very poor in the form of cashing checks for 50% interest. It makes me wonder if Robin Hood was a good guy or just another forest dwelling perloiner in tights.

Tuesday, August 22, 2006

be positive

How to start your day with a positive attitude:

1. Create a "new folder" on your computer.
2. Name it "George W. Bush".
3. Send it to the trash.
4. Empty the trash.
5. Your computer will ask you: "Do you really want to delete "George W. Bush"?
6. Calmly answer, "Yes", and press the mouse button firmly...

Tuesday, June 13, 2006

more orgone stuff

The orgone enriched garden plants are doing pretty good, considering Mr. Groundhog and Mr. Deer mistook them as part of an outdoor salad bar. The kohlrabi's didn't stand a chance, but the beans are doing pretty damn good, compared to the non-orgonized plants. It got me thinking... Why not build an orgone blanket? It'll be portable, light weight, and won't take up too much space. I found a 5 lb roll of steel wool and a wool blanket and Mary and I proceeded to stitch together a small orgone blanket. We tried a few things with it but figured our opinions might be biased so I took it to work and let one of the girls use it. She has had back problems for quite some time and hasn't had a day free of pain for like, ever, so I figured she could be a good candidate. I told her to simply to fold it three times and keep it on her lap while she was working and to let me know what she felt. I refused to tell her what to look for. I didn't want my observations to taint the results. Later that morning she told me she felt very comfortable and warm. Not hot but more like a comfortable warmth. She also told me she was very surprised to be able to pick things up from the floor without any discomfort. This was coming from someone with years of chronic back problems who was considering a spinal block because the drugs weren't working well enough. I told her to take it home with her and try it out and get back to me. That was last thursday. We'll see what happens.

Wednesday, May 24, 2006

something to think about

It started out innocently enough.

I began to think at parties now and then, just to loosen up. Inevitably, though, one thought led to another, and soon I was more than just a social thinker. I began to think alone -- to relax, I told myself -- but I knew it wasn't true.

Thinking became more and more important to me, and finally I was thinking all the time. I even began to think on the job. I knew that thinking and working don't mix, but I couldn't stop myself.

I began to avoid friends at lunchtime so I could read Thoreau and Kafka. I would return to the office dizzied and confused, asking, "What is it we are doing here?"

Things weren't going so great at home either. One evening, I turned off the TV and asked my wife about the meaning of life. She spent that night at her mother's.

Soon, I had a reputation as a heavy thinker.

One day the boss called me in. He said, "Skippy, I like you, and it hurts me to say this, but your thinking has become a real problem. If you don't stop thinking on the job, you'll have to find another place to work." This gave me a lot to think about.

I came home early after my conversation with the boss. "Honey," I confessed, "I've been thinking ..."

"I know you've been thinking," she snapped, "and I want a divorce!"

"But Honey,” I said, “surely it's not that serious."

"Yes it is," she replied, her lower lip aquiver. "You think as much as college professors, and college professors don't make any money. So if you keep on thinking we won't have any money!"

"That's a faulty syllogism," I said impatiently, but that just made her cry.

I'd had enough.

"I'm going to the library," I snarled, as I stomped out the door. I drove off, in the mood for some Nietzsche, and cranked up National Public Radio on the car stereo. I roared into the parking lot and ran up to the big glass doors ... but they didn't open. The library was closed.

To this day, I believe that a Higher Power was looking out for me that night.

As I sank to the ground, clawing at the unfeeling glass and whimpering for Zarathustra, a poster caught my eye: "Friend, is heavy thinking ruining your life?"

Most of you no doubt recognize that line. It comes from the standard Thinker's Anonymous poster.

And that’s how I became what I am today: a recovering thinker. I never miss a TA meeting. At each meeting we watch a non-educational video. Last week, it was "Porky's." Then we share experiences about how we avoided thinking since the last meeting.

I still have my job, and things are a lot better at home. Life just seemed ... easier, somehow, as soon as I stopped thinking.

Thursday, April 20, 2006

spring... aint it cool?

It's been awhile since I posted anything on here and the last few entries were lame at best. I apologize for my insincerity and lack of thought. What was I thinking to put such twatle on this thing? Anyway, it's a beautiful spring day and I just got back from checking out the garden. As I do every year, I tilled the asparagas patch but I'm not seeing anything crop up yet. I'm afraid I may have dug too deep and messed up the root structure. I'll know for sure in a few days. Right now the grass is something like 6" tall and very thick and lush. I find it interesting that the things you cultivate, care for, prune and feed are dwarfted by the plants that you ignore, like grass and weeds. What does that tell you about life? Should I feed the weeds and ignore the radishes? Well, we all know THAT'S a bad idea. Maybe I'll have a garden party and request everyone bring a shovel. Hopefully, someone will bring da ho.
I'll keep ya posted.
I also discovered coffee grounds are neutral pH, hovering around 6.8. That means the garbage taken to the gas station every time I fill up has been reduced to almost zero. The bottles and cans were always a problem. Not for me but for everyone who comes here. Ya see, I fired my garbage man a couple years ago and managed to handle my garbage in a thoughtful way. It's so simple... burnables get burned, aluminum cans get crushed and isolated, cans go to the gas station in small, easy to handle bags, food scraps feed the woodland creatures, and bottles go to the woods. I'm satisfied that in the not so distant future some prospector will stumble on my bottle dump and become wealthy overnight. Todays garbage is tomorrows treasure and I'm proud to be part of that economic chain. If I could only teach my guests to understand BEER CANS ONLY, written in large, friendly letters across the top of my trash can, means beer cans, not cigarette butts and chicken bones.
The last time Mary was here she divided some seeds in two different groups. One group was placed in the orgone accumulator, the other is the control group. We'll plant both groups in seperate rows in the garden. The idea is to see what effect orgone energy has on seeds before planting. I should have an identical group that we can totally ignore to study the effects isolation on biological systems, but I think that study has been done to death.

Here's something I thought might interest someone out there. I hate to admit it but I can't help feeling this guy could've gotten away with it if he didn't wander from his specialty.

Monday, February 20, 2006

Do you believe this?

Truth is stranger than fiction. You can't make this stuff up.

Thursday, January 12, 2006

A new hole

Work has started on the hobbit house. The weather was perfect for digging so dig I did. I decided all that digging wasn't such a good idea for a hobbit so I got a few local 18 year old hobbit girls to help. A few dozen shovelfuls and they were complaining about sore backs, broken nails and getting all muddy. This is either going to be a very small underground hobbit house or a decent size semi-underground hobbit house. We opted for semi. Ya know, this is hard work for someone committed to less work and more play so we all went to the gas station to play pinball and think about this over some wine and cheese. Then one of the girls said her dad has a backhoe and he can dig the hole in no time. The other girls dad is a stone mason and he can do the foundation. It sounds like a good idea. The question is, will they work for free? I'll keep ya posted.

Tuesday, January 03, 2006

New year, new life, new view.

A thought came to me today about new years resolutions. I don't believe in them because you're usually just setting yourself up for a fall. You know the deal. You come up with a list of resolutions like stop smoking, stop drinking, stop swearing, stop womanizing, stop doing drugs, workout 12 times a day, eat the right foods, get your nipples pierced... You pick your favorite resolution and after the ball drops you announce in fluent drunkenese your plans to become a better person by reducing the joys in your life and fly a steady course to Jack LaLanne fitness. After 2 days of cold turkey the only thing you can think of is smoking a pack of cigarettes with your favorite bottle of rum with crack whores at McDonald's.

Well, I set my sights on a different horizon this year. I decided my new years resolution is to become a hobbit. I'll go to bed late, wake up late, eat many meals throughout the day and take lots of breaks. I'll live in an underground hobbit house with round doors and a fireplace for heat and make my own cheese, wine, and bread. I'll make music, create art and play in the garden. All my hobbit friends will come around and we'll party in my hobbit hot tub with some hobbit hotties and hot toddies. When my eleventy-first birthday comes around we'll all sing and dance and shoot off fireworks while everyone drinks alcoholic beverages out of ceramic mugs.

Or would you rather work out at the gym six nights a week?