Archive for January 2013
Well, we’re into February which means our winter here in Maine is a little more than half over. Now for the bad news. I’ve started receiving tax documents from here, there, and everywhere and if I’m like everyone else in this country, I hate doing my taxes. It’s like stealing from your own bank accounts and then being forced to do the paperwork too. Not only do I think were being over-taxed, I think we’re getting close to that critical tipping point where we’re paying more in collective taxes (federal tax, local tax, surcharges, fee, and fines) than we’re allowed to keep.
My first big question for the Fed is how many dependents can I actually claim. For most of my life I could answer that question without giving it too much thought. Unfortunately those days are gone forever. I’d really like to know since the IRS isn’t too understanding about errors on their tax returns and they seem to get some perverse thrill out of kicking all of us little guys around. Years ago it was just me, my wife, and child, easy right? No more.
With the advent of the Obama Nation slowly taking control of almost every facet of our lives, what do I do? This comprehensive list of my dependents is my conundrum:
12 million illegal immigrants
3 million drug addicts
42 million people on food stamps
2 million people in over 243 prisons
535 persons in the U.S. House and Senate
1 Narcissistic President
I should be getting back a freaking boatload of money if my calculations are correct but I won’t hold my breath waiting for that to happen. C’mon Barack, just give me one penny for each person listed above and I’ll be able to buy an island and establish my own country. Then I could declare war on the US and immediately surrender when their troops arrive. The surrender would be conditional with the US required to pay war reparations and an annual check of foreign aid for the rest of my life. If they can keep me funded and happy I’ll be their most loyal ally. Free money, no taxes, and no politicians to bribe or coerce. It could be the new Garden of Eden without the stupid snake and the apple tree. See, I really do have a plan if those A-holes in Congress and the White House would just cooperate.
The Ides of April are fast approaching. I hope I can find an acceptable solution to my problem by then. Have a wonderful tax season this year because next year it will be much worse.
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I’m starting this day at a definite disadvantage. My mind is fully occupied with what might have been the weirdest nights sleep I’ve ever had. Do you dream on a regular basis? Do you remember your dreams? I do. I’ve always looked forward to those nights where the dreams never stop coming and one weird thing after another keeps occurring.
I’ve spent a great deal of time over the years attempting to understand my dreams and even have gone so far as waking up in the middle of the night to write down specific things that I wanted to be sure to remember. They seem to fade so quickly once we awaken which always pisses me off a little. It’s amazing to me just how much information must be retained by our subconscious. It’s said we humans only use ten percent of our brains in a normal day but I disagree with that. We may only access ten percent of the brain but I think the remaining ninety percent is just a huge storage area for all of the things we’ve ever seen, heard or thought about. During dreams the subconscious accesses those memories in bizarre and strange ways and we’re allowed to see them as dreams. It’s like our own personal weird and screwy home theatre.
Last night I was in a place where fences were everywhere and access was only permitted by the proper authorities. I was keeping company with a young women who I recognized as Kathy, my very first girlfriend from fifty years ago and also my first memorable wet and sloppy French kiss. I have to say she was looking pretty good with long slinky hair (which she never had), a pair of extremely tight Capri pants (which she never wore), and a real “come and get me attitude” (which she did have). We were trying to get out of this fenced area in which we were imprisoned and we worked hard but made no headway. We wanted very much to make our escape and get to Creighton, PA. That’s a small, dirty and disgusting little town where my father worked for forty years. In real life I wouldn’t even want to drive through the place let alone take a girl there. Oh well, it’s my dream and I’ll figure it out someday, I hope.
This was unfortunately not a sex dream. I could use a few more of those, but I digress. Kathy and I, hand in hand, were climbing fences and running and hiding through most of this dream. At one point we ran into an odd assortment of people who were also looking for a way out. The leader of that group just happened to be my former high school Art teacher who for some reason had a full head of hair. I never knew him with hair but that’s beside the point I guess.
We found our way into an abandoned building located along a stretch of railroad tracks where we stopped to rest. We were milling around so I stepped to a window to look out at the railroad tracks. This is where the dream began to slowly become a nightmare. Just outside the window sitting on a folding chair was my ex-wife, knitting a sweater. Let me try and figure this out; my first girlfriend, my high school Art teacher, and my ex-wife. The dream appeared to be going south in a hurry.
We then arrived together in a large parking lot where dozens of weird little cars were parked in long straight rows. A booth was set up where a person could get a car if they had the proper paperwork and money. Just show the your papers (which I of course couldn’t find) and pay the fee (which I didn’t have). I reached into my pocket and found a small round gold object and handed it to the guy in the booth who just happened to be someone I roomed with in college. I never liked him all that much in real life and he was about to get even. He refused to give me a car.
Kathy stepped up, took the coin, and bribed the moron and was finally given a car. Apparently my gold coin was worth a lot more than I thought because she was given three boxes filled with smaller gold coins as change from the transaction. As we prepared to leave an obvious problem had to be dealt with first. There were at least six of us and three boxes of gold and those stupid little square shaped cars only held two people each. What to do?
It was at this point that I was angrily awakened by my distended bladder who was screaming for me to find a bathroom, not Creighton, PA. So I left Kathy and the others in the parking lot with that weird little car and all that gold and returned to reality.
How can my day not get better than that?
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Mother Nature just can’t or won’t leave us alone. The early part of today was clear and really cold but livable. I was able to have a few warm hours this morning after the sun came up and rapidly heated the house. I had a quick breakfast of tasty cinnamon buns homemade by my better-half which were excellent. She’s been fine tuning her recipe for a week and has finally found the magic. A good hot cup of coffee with warm buns heated for a few seconds in the microwave, Yum!
She was off to work early as I prepared to do a bit of electrical rewiring in the room I’m remodeling. I removed the existing ceiling insulation, drilled the appropriate holes in the joists, and replaced the box in the center of the ceiling with a reinforced box that will hold the weight of the fan slated to be installed there. This house in just over twenty years old and nothing is easy. As soon as you start any project it immediately turns into what can only be described as a huge pain in the ass. The builders seemed to have cut corners at every turn and now I have to try and fix things as they’re discovered.
The insulation was installed without a vapor barrier which is a no-no and it’s also so old that it’s easily torn. What a freaking nightmare. Before I can do much of anything else I’ll be forced to replace all of the insulation and then install a good vapor barrier which wasn’t included in my original budget for this project. I’ve just had my project extended by a few days and a few hundred dollars which makes me really unhappy but not at all surprised.
I also removed an electrical outlet in the wall near the door that appeared dead. Tracing the wires didn’t help much when after a half hour and fifteen feet later I discovered they weren’t attached to any thing. They’d been rolled up and shoved behind the insulation probably fifteen or twenty years ago. Another little tweak of my nose by this freaking house.
After five hours I called it quits, sat down and enjoyed a good hot cup of coffee. Then Mother Nature reared her ugly head once again and began to pour on the snow. It was a light snow but it lasted for almost six hours.
The better-half made it home safely from work, we had a quiet meal, and kicked back for a while. She’s scheduled early in the morning tomorrow so she headed off to bed early. I donned my winter outfit and headed outside to clear the driveway of snow before retiring. Thank God for that new snow thrower. I cleared the driveway in rather short order just after 8:00 pm so the better-half wouldn’t have issues in the morning.
Now that she’s in bed I have a few minutes to read a couple of chapters. I need to keep up with the adventures of Detective Eve Dallas, a NYC cop in the year 2056.
The construction weather report looks grim for tomorrow. I’m expecting a huge amount of aggravation, followed by a host of nicks and cuts, and the occasional moments of intense profanity and general yelling.
I love my life.
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I’ve never been accused of being an overly happy person. I’m pretty sure I know the reasons why as do most of my closest friends and acquaintances. It wasn’t until recently that I was told in no uncertain terms that men should be a lot happier than women. You might think a statement like that was made by a man but it wasn’t.
If you think about it, we men are really simple creatures. Things are cut and dry, black or white, just simple. We apparently have so many reasons to be happy I can’t believe I didn’t realize it sooner:
We can never get pregnant.
We can wear a white T-shirt to a water park.
We can wear NO shirt to a water park.
We can intimidate car mechanics.
We have the world as our urinal.
We never drive to another gas station restroom because this one is too disgusting.
We have wrinkles that just add character.
We never have anyone stare at our chest when talking to us.
We favor 30 second phone conversations.
We know stuff about tanks.
We need one suitcase for a five-day vacation.
We can open all our own jars.
We pay $8.95 for a three-pack of underwear.
We need no more than 3 pairs of shoes.
We are unable to see wrinkles in our clothes.
We have the same hairstyle for years, maybe decades.
We only have to shave our face and neck.
We can wear shorts no matter what our legs look.
We can do our nails with a pocket knife.
We can Christmas shop for 25 relatives in 25 minutes.
Here are a few simple but true comparisons between men and women that are absolutely spot on.
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We will pay $2 for a $1 item we need and a a woman will pay $1 for a $2 item that she doesn’t need but is on sale.
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We have has six items in our bathroom: toothbrush, toothpaste, shaving cream, razor, a bar of soap, and a towel. The average number of items in the typical woman’s bathroom is 337.
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We wake up as good-looking as when we went to bed. Women somehow deteriorate during the night.
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A woman worries about the future until she gets a husband. We never worried about the future until we got a wife.
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A woman will dress up to go shopping, water the plants, empty the trash, answer the phone, read a book, and get the mail. We will dress up for weddings and funerals.
How could we not be happier than women? We’ve had it made for all these years and just didn’t realize it. Thank God I have a good women who could explain it to me along with about a thousand other things that she thinks I don’t understand.
In my opinion all of the above may be true. There’s only one thing I can think of that women have that I’m really jealous of, MULTIPLE ORGASMS! I think that makes us even.
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Shopping in January. The temperature is nineteen degrees with a wind chill of nine degrees. Are we effing crazy? That would be a huge yes. We were out of the house running errands where we rode around in a nice warm car, would run into a nice warm store, and then return to the nice warm car. Sounded like an excellent plan to me but then again, what the hell do I know. Out of the blue my better-half decided to let me know she was jonesing for fresh crabs. Could we swing by the docks in Portland to the fish market and pick up a few? What was I going to say?
As we entered the city there were a surprising number of people roaming the streets. There must have been some kind of political protest going on because we saw a number of folks carrying their home-made signs and waving at passing traffic. It’s nice to see that those “Occupy Portland” idiots have found something to do through the winter. Fortunately the turnout must have been rather low because there didn’t appear to be any delays with traffic flow.
If you’ve ever been to Portland, Maine you must be aware of the constant parking problems. It’s ten times worse in the winter when a large number of parking slots are filled with piles of snow and ice. We got lucky and found a spot after 15 minutes of cruising around. They still get to take a shot at you for parking violations due to a stupid two hour limit on their meters. I firmly believe that the town council and politicians are paid from the parking ticket fund. I saw no less than four meter readers (parking Nazi’s) on one street dropping $25.00 tickets everywhere.
My better-half had the audacity to say “I think we should walk around for a while.” My only reply was “Are you kidding me, it’s effing cold out here. Find a store and go in.” So she did. We were then in and out of a handful of odd little shops with off-beat merchandise and really high prices. We found a place called Pandemonium which is the ultimate shopping experience for over priced crap. I again was placed in a position where I had no choice but to buy something. I found an ugly little pig clock for my better-half’s Valentines Day gift and a bottle of habanero hot sauce with a really scary warning label. The cost of those two items could have kept my car gassed up for two weeks. Highway robbery!
I could see in her eyes what was coming next. It was two in the afternoon and she was dreaming of those stupid crabs and a cold beer. We swung by the fish market where I remained in the car. I hate going in there because even on a good day the smell is awful. She was back in a wink with no crabs. Apparently it’s too cold for crabs too and there were none available, Boo Hoo!
We then arrived at a local tavern, Three Dollar Dewey’s, that we visit whenever we’re in town. A quick drink, some fish and chips, and then home.
I have to admit it was fun to get out of the house for a while. I have one additional question for you women out there. What would possess any women into going out into this cold weather wearing only a cardigan sweater, a pair of black, skin tight leotards, and a pair of Ugg boots. I saw at least four women dressed in that outfit scurrying along bitching and complaining about the cold. I’ve always said I didn’t understand women and I still don’t. You could freeze your Who-Ha right off if you had one.
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We’re still in the freezer here in Maine like a lot of other places around the country. It’s another stay in, stay warm, and stay at home nite for sure. I have a few things I need to get done today including a general cleanup of the house since we’re having guests for dinner tonight.
Shish-kabobs are on the menu so a little marinating is required for the meat and blah . . blah . . blah. That sounds almost as boring to me as it must to you. I spent a few morning hours on the computer answering emails and visiting some of my favorite blogs. It’s amazing the amount of diversity that can be found on WordPress. If I’m not disciplined I can spend hours just roaming around randomly reading everything in sight.
I also need to log a little X-box time today to calm my nerves and relax a bit. Our guests this evening are serious gamers who take no prisoners in any activity they participate in and I assume the X-box will be involved.
My better-half arrived from work in mid-afternoon and began a flurry of activity before the guests arrived. As always I did my part by cracking open a bottle of Chardonnay to assist me in my supervisory capacity. It’s a tough job but someone has to do it and I’m always first in line.
The guests arrived right on time and before I realized it we were on the X-box for a raucous darts tournament. I did my best to win but it just wasn’t meant to be. I was beaten like the proverbial rented mule and in damn short order by my better-half. Don’t you just hate people who spend all of their time telling you how bad they are at something and then proceed to kick your ass? It’s like rubbing salt into the wounds as far as I’m concerned. It was a disappointing way to start the evenings activities but I’m not demoralized just yet.
The dinner was excellent but for me it was just an minor annoyance before the Hearts games began. Playing Hearts with these guests can be a little like armed combat. We take no prisoners and offer no mercy whatsoever. We’ve played Hearts with them for years and the competition is as fierce now as it was the first nite we played. For a change I managed to prevail with a decisive win and was exceptionally kind in my victory offering no smartass wise cracks or fake sympathy to the losers. It’s always great to win and a big hooray for me.
More snacks and drinks then it’s back to the freaking X-box for a round of fun yet vicious bowling. I should have stopped while I was ahead because I was crushed without mercy. Well, at least I won something tonight.
These game nights are a great deal of fun and it’s something we’ve always enjoyed. They’re especially nice during cold snaps like this where going out is problematic. Staying in and sharing a few relaxing hours with friends is as good as it gets. It wasn’t a late night which then gave us some quiet time to relax a little before heading to bed. I think the kitchen cleanup will have to wait until tomorrow because I’m suffering from a real lack of interest.
Check the doors and locks, turn on the electric blanket, and snuggle in for a few chapters of my new book. Tomorrow is another day.
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Doing a lot of reading through these freezing cold months is something I look forward to every year. With little or no outside work to do I can read two or three books a week with no trouble. I purposely buy books to be saved for these months and I try to make them as diverse as I can.
That being said, if you’ve read this blog or my previous blog, Anti-Stupidity Central, you know how much I tend to ridicule celebrities and the people who worship them. There is always so much hype and lies about their lives it’s difficult to sort through it all to find the truth. During my weekly reading this week I discovered a source who supplied me with some truth about celebrities that they can’t deny or spin or tell untruths about. The following information concerns those celebrities who have passed on with some interesting facts on how that occurred.
SAMMY DAVIS JR. (1925-1990)
Don’t wives ever listen? Sammy Davis Jr. wanted his coffin closed because he wanted no one to see his cancer-ravaged body. His wife Altovise had an open casket and hired a photographer to snap pictures. Later when she discovered his estate owed millions in back taxes she had him exhumed and removed $70,000.00 of jewelry from his body. She died in 2009 at the same age as Sammy. Ahhhh, ain’t true love wonderful?
MERV GRIFFIN (1925-2007)
His final resting place is Westwood Cemetery, Los Angeles. At the time of his death on August 12, he was a billionaire. He was clever and guarded at evading questions about his sexuality, telling the NY Times, “I tell everyone that I’m a quarter sexual. I will do anything with anyone for a quarter.” His epithet reads ‘I Will Not Be Right Back After This Message’.
JOHN WAYNE (1907-1979)
The Duke died of stomach cancer on June 11 and on his deathbed, he converted to Catholicism, and requested his tombstone to read, ‘Feo, Fuerte, y Normal’, a Spanish phrase meaning “ugly, strong, and dignified.” His grave remained unmarked for more than twenty years.
MEL BLANC (1908-1989)
Mel Blanc was known as the man of a thousand voices for more than fifty-two years, including Daffy Duck, Porky Pig, Yosemite Sam, Wile E. Coyote, and Barney Rubble. He died on July 10 of heart disease and was buried in a grave with the inscription, ‘That’s All Folks’, as stipulated in his will.
JOAN HACKETT (1934-1983)
She was laid to rest in Hollywood Forever Cemetery after losing her battle with ovarian cancer. She checked herself out of the hospital shortly before her death to host a party at her home for Carrie Fisher and Paul Simon. She so loved to get her beauty sleep that she was left resting quietly in Crypt 2314 with the epithet, ‘Go Away – I’m Asleep’.
And last but certainly not least:
RODNEY DANGERFIELD (1921-2004)
His final resting place is Westwood Memorial Park in Los Angeles. You just have to love a guy who at eighty-two was still smoking pot. During the Reagan years he even once got stoned in the White House. He also, in 2002, got stoned in the hospital bathroom after having a heart attack scare. He died on October 5 from complications from heart-valve replacement. His tombstone reads "’There Goes The Neighborhood’. To me he was one of the funniest bastards who ever lived and has definitely earned my respect.
So there you have it. A small dose of graveside humor that can’t be disputed, denied, or spun. If only the ones still living could be as open and forthright.
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Winter has returned with a vengeance here in Maine. It’s not snow this time but frigid cold. The wind chill has been below zero for a few days which means I don’t leave this house unless it’s on fire. These are the days when my list of winter projects becomes important.
After I finished reading the entire collection of Harry Potter books two weeks ago I then decided I wanted to see all of the movies now that I had a better understanding of the story line. Yesterday was the start of my Harry Potter movie marathon made possible by a grant made to me by my better-half’s daughter. I have in my hot little hand all of the HP movies in Blue Ray, I effing love it. This weather made it possible for me to watch the first three movies without much interruption yesterday.
One big surprise though, my better-half sat in for a few minutes at the beginning of movie number 4 and became mesmerized. She watched that entire movie and loved it. I was informed last night that I wasn’t to watch any of the other films unless she was here to watch them with me. I didn’t mind that too much since I actually like having her around most of the time. Besides if I happen to remain quiet and really still she’s likely to be the first person to raid the kitchen and make us popcorn.
The marathon will continue later tonight but this morning I’m back in the kitchen making a batch of hot and spicy barbecue sauce. If I manage it properly I can have it made, canned, and on the shelf before my better-half returns home from work. I’ll return shortly. . . .
(Time Passing)
Well I’m back and the sauce has been made and canned. The cleanup is actually easier since I made a smaller batch than normal. I was able to can 16 half pints of sauce with each one holding enough for a meal of chicken wings or a meat of choice. It was a newly developed recipe which offers a lot of flavor and a medium amount of heat. I decided to ease up on the heat since most of this batch will be given to friends and family. I’ll make a smaller batch in a few weeks which will be much hotter and more to our taste.
I’m just sitting here now waiting for the better-half to arrive. I went outside to check the mail earlier and OMG is it freaking cold. The deck is making gun shot noises as the nails are popping from the temperature. The first time made me jump a bit but the poor cat is going crazy. He no sooner gets to sleep then BANG. It’s harshing his buzz and making him extremely cranky.
Tomorrow is another day in paradise.
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You all know I just love pointing out the many useless national observances that our society is inundated with. Today is January 22, 2013 and this is the day of remembrance set aside for the observance of the Roe v. Wade decision in 1973.
I’m not here to take a political position because no one would listen to me anyway. I’m just pointing out the ridiculousness of having a day to remember some thing like this. Without picking sides I will reveal that in my youth I was responsible for the abortion of two of my almost children. I was all for it at the time but it’s haunted me for more than forty-five years. So to make your celebration of this day “all it can be”, here are a few real facts you might be interested in learning directly from a pro-abortion organization.
Many of the statistics in this posting are taken from the Guttmacher Institute, the research arm of Planned Parenthood, the largest abortion provider in the U.S. The Guttmacher Institute has been compiling data on abortion since 1968. Since they favor abortion, the data they provide will have more credibility to those who are pro-choice than data from a pro-life source.
Over 53 Million abortions Since Roe v. Wade.
This means that every 26 seconds a preborn baby dies in America.
About 1 in 4 (23%) of all pregnancies in the United States end in abortion.
It is estimated that 43% of all women will have at least 1 abortion before they are 45 years old.
Every year, there are approximately 42 million abortions per year worldwide
The World Health Organization estimates that every day 150,000 abortions are carried out worldwide.
This means a full 20% of human lives are ended by abortion.
Read more: Abortion Facts – Abortion Facts http://www.whyprolife.com/abortion-facts/#ixzz2IjrQqO82
Source: Johnston, Wm. Robert. Historical Abortion Statistics, United States. http://www.johnstonsarchive.net/policy/abortion/ab-unitedstates.html.
If your pro-abortion and reading this pisses you off, you should understand something right now, I don’t care. Opinions are like assholes and everybody’s got one and this is my blog and it contains MY asshole opinions. Please don’t write to me with YOUR asshole opinions because they will go unpublished.
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In the past I’ve complained about certain things in New England that bother me and I’m going to do it all over again today. There are times when I’m just plain embarrassed to be living in Maine. I was born and raised in the mill towns and bars of western Pennsylvania where the people take great pride in themselves in almost everything they do. They love their Steelers, their Pirates, and their down-to-earth common sense approach to all things. I’m most proud of a dying “art form” superbly represented by the people there, world class cussing. It’s learned at an early age but takes many years of practice to really do it justice.
At age three I was sitting on a street corner in Natrona, Pa. with my grandfather and his buddies who paid me nickels and pennies to repeat cuss words. I don’t specifically remember those days but I’ve been told by numerous people over the years who remember them all too well. If by chance I uttered the occasional F-Bomb, I’d get a quarter and possibly an ice cream cone. So you have to admit I come by cussing honestly, it’s a family tradition.
Off course we all were raised as Steelers fans and if you didn’t curse loudly and often enough while watching their games then you were a goddamn traitor. You’d better be ready to voice your support for those Steelers loud and long as they kicked the shit out of those pussies from Cleveland and those cocksuckers from Texas. It takes a special knack to string numerous cuss words together for maximum effect and we have it.
Western Pennsylvania isn’t known for ethnic diversity but it should be. We lived in menagerie of Irish, Polish, Slovaks, Blacks, Italians, Asians, and the occasional Hispanic. To be a professional cusser in our neighborhood you had to learn cuss words from at least six languages just to be properly understood. We were all well on our way to being linguists of a sort in grade-school. We were the fucking UN of goddamn cusswords and proud of it.
I’ve lived in Maine now for more than ten years and I have to say that the cussing here is a little more laid back than I’m used to. A little too polite and prissy for a boy from fucking Pennsylvania. I actually look forward to trips back home where I can walk into a bar after twenty-five years in New England and have someone say, “Hey who let that motherfucker with the weird accent in here and is he buying the next goddamn round?”. It’s just not the same here in Maine. Two F-bombs in one sentence seems to be too much for Maine sensibilities. I think it’s the wrong headed French influences emanating from our neighbor to the north. Well hell, if they don’t fucking like my style of cussing they can kiss my big fucking ass.
Just saying.
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everyuselessthing.com 