Archive for the ‘Kill Me, I’m Begging You’ Category
Are you prepared for April Fools Day? It’s another one of those waste-of-time observances that the United States has become so famous for. I love practical jokes as well as the next guy but anyone who’s fooled on April Fool’s Day isn’t too bright. If I wanted to truly prank someone it would be unannounced and unexpected but that’s just me.
I have to admit there is one observance I’ve discovered for April 1st that I could possibly get onboard with. St. Stupid’s Day has been celebrated for thirty five years this year in the most appropriate place you could imagine, San Francisco. The ‘City By the Bay’ is well known for some of the most ridiculous stunts and political decisions ever. This also includes it’s intimate relationship with the country’s most ridiculous political family, Jerry Brown Sr. and Jerry Brown Jr. or Governor Moonbeam to his friends.
San Francisco is well know for it’s far left approach to almost everything and just when you thought you’ve heard and seen it all, they come up with something even more absurd. The left coast (well named) has over the years been the cause of much laughter and ridicule brought on by their approach to almost everything. Here’s a short blurb with a few facts about their St. Stupid Day celebrations.
The Saint Stupid’s Day Parade is an annual parade that takes place in San Francisco on April 1st. The somewhat anarchistic parade was founded by Ed Holmes (aka Bishop Joey of the First Church of the Last Laugh) in the late 1970s. If April 1st falls on a weekday, the parade starts at the foot of Market Street and follows a well established route through the financial district. If April 1st falls on a weekend, the parade starts at the Transamerica Pyramid, proceeds up Columbus Street and ends at Washington Square. The parade begins promptly at noon. Participation in the parade is open to the public and silly costumes are encouraged.
The following list of headlines were obtained from recent articles found in the San Francisco area newspapers. Just reading them will tell you all you need to know about why St. Stupid’s Day belongs in California and San Francisco in particular.
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Public Sex Exposed This Woman’s Worker’s Comp Fraud
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Taxidermist Puts Stuffed Animals In Silly Outfits
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Thugs Throw Milkshake In Woman’s Face, She Throws $2,000 Back
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This Is A Fork Used To Eat Human Flesh
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San Francisco City Official Consults Ouija Board Before Vote
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This Vibrator From 1906 Could Have Been In Your Great-Grandmother
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First Surrogate Otter Mom Dies
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He’s A 36-Year-Old Virgin Who’s Fathered 14 Kids
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Top 10 Haunted Houses In America
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Muppet-Themed Bar Opens In San Francisco
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A Picnic Table Bigger Than A Football Field Assembled In 30 Seconds
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Do You Love Nature? Take The Next Step — Go ‘Ecosexual’
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Gay Softball League Limit On Straight Players OK’d
Need I say more? I don’t think so. So wake up bright and early tomorrow and be prepared to act even more stupid than usual. Unfortunately I’m reasonably sure the parade won’t be televised, sorry!
Have you ever had a song stuck in your head? Over the years I’ve listened to hundreds of thousands of songs without any problems whatsoever. I’ve listened to Jazz, Pop, Hard Rock, and yes even Opera. I’ve avoided when possible Hip-Hop, Rap, and the old style Country and Western songs because I just don’t care for them. There are a few exceptions to that list of course but not many.
I live with my better-half who is obsessed with music, singing, dancing, and humming songs almost constantly. It can be really annoying if you ever crave absolute peace and quiet like I do at times. Every once in a while as I’m listening to music I also find myself unable to disconnect completely. It’s maddening because I find it interfering with my everyday activities. I’ve been in conversations with people and as I’m listening to them speak I begin to hum to myself and I can hear the lyrics in my head very clearly. Then I begin to tap my toe to the music and then suffer from the almost uncontrollable urge to dance. It takes all of my will power not do anything stupid and embarrass myself. This has occurred in the past not just in casual conversations but important business conversations as well.
My mother passed away last year and as I was sitting in the church with my sister listening to the priest drone on and on I had the song "What a Man" by Salt and Pepa echoing through my head. Why? I have no freaking idea but it was actually better than listening to that priest and thinking about my mom’s passing.
On one occasion I was driving to Pittsburgh to visit family which is eleven hours of sheer boredom. For a large part of the trip through Pennsylvania there is little or no acceptable radio stations to listen to. Unfortunately I also forgot my IPod and was limited to one CD I found under my seat. For the rest of that trip and for the next week the song, "Higher Love" by Steve Winwood drove me freaking crazy.
When I’m cooking I find myself humming and occasionally singing various songs by Luciano Pavarotti in Italian no less. How weird is that? I love opera but it’s not something I want to hear over and over again.
This problem isn’t limited to good music but also to really bad songs and a few truly annoying television commercial theme songs. The theme songs are the absolute worst. Lately it’s been that stupid commercial with the Korean version of Richard Simmons singing some stupid song that I don’t even understand while he hops around the screen in a pukey green sport coat with a bunch of pistachios. I ‘d look up the name of the song for you but what’s the point, I hate that stupid song.
I think the worst part of this problem is that once I capture a song in my head, it’s there forever. I have quite a long list of tunes that show up unannounced at the weirdest times to entertain me. I may be forced to involve myself with some sort of meditation program that will allow me to sit quietly and purge my mind of all this nonsense. Maybe I’ll become a Buddhist monk where I can spend my time in quiet self-reflection in an attempt to make these evil music demons go away.
As I’ve been writing this I’ve been humming "Three Time a Lady" by Lionel Richey. Someone please help me!
I’m a bit tired today after yesterday’s drywall work. If you’re expecting anything spectacular on this blog today you’re sure to be disappointed. I often hear people on their blogs complaining about writer’s block. I’ve never had that problem but I seem to be suffering from a block for which I have no name. It could possibly be called an ‘artists block’ or a ‘remodeling block’, or even a ‘get-the-hell-out-of-bed block’. I’m feeling like a big giant lump with no motivation to do anything except write about how lazy I’m feeling. Which for the record is mighty effing lazy. At the same time my mind is racing and I’m visualizing work that still needs to be completed on the remodel tomorrow.
Unfortunately for me when I’m working any kind of project I’m consumed not just by the work that I’ll be doing but by constant mental activity that I can’t turn off. It can also make sleeping extremely difficult. Even after having my better-half tell me to take the day off, I struggle. I should be relaxing and enjoying my down time but for me there is no real down time.
She’ll be talking to me about work or family and if I’m lucky I may get every other word or just a general idea of what the subject matter is. I suspect she thinks I’m getting forgetful but that isn’t the case at all. It also isn’t that I don’t care or I’m not interested, I’m just focused on my tasks at hand almost 100%. It’s totally out of my control for the most part and it’s something I’ve resigned myself to dealing with.
Even as a kid I was consumed by my painting, sculpting, reading, and once I started something I kept at it until it was completed. Especially my art work. I’d start a painting and would work around the clock with little or no food or drink until it was finished. I love that feeling of being in the moment and just staying there as long as possible is a real pleasure for me.
At times I have difficulty getting a project started and will procrastinate a little. It’s not that I don’t want to do the project, it’s because I know that once I start I probably won ‘t be able to stop. You could be in the same room with me and during those times you cease to exist. Even my surroundings in the room become a blur except for the piece I’m working on. It can be maddening when interruptions occur and I lose my temper and become difficult.
I thought in my younger days that this compulsion would lessen as I grew older but it has not. It’s been both a blessing and a curse over the years but I’m certain I would miss it if for some reason it just disappeared. I guess I’ll do my best to relax today but both my better-half and I know what I’ll be thinking about. Tomorrows project.
Another winter in Maine is finally taking it’s last freaking gasp and will soon be gone. I have only one thing to say to that, "Good-bye, Good Riddance, and Go Away". In my opinion it’s overstayed it’s welcome by at least two weeks already. It’s much like a house guest who stays too long causing you to start out liking them, then disliking them, and finally detesting them.
I’m sitting in bed refusing to get up and start another day with the same mind crunching routine which I’ve fallen into of late. I first wake up slowly out of odd and strange dreams which usually amuse me, but not today. I make a bathroom pit stop, feed the cat, get my coffee, and return to the bed with my IPad. As I begin writing I’m also thinking about my work list for the day and cringe a little. After ten minutes I return to the kitchen for another cup of coffee and more visualization of the tasks ahead of me.
The room remodel has taken over my days but is much c.loser to completion than this time last week. Ninety percent of the drywall has been installed with the final sheets in place by this coming Friday. Then it’s a few days of sanding, priming, painting, putting up the new fixtures, wall plugs, light switches and baseboards and then DONE.
In order to complete these kinds of projects you really must have the proper motivation or it could stall and never be completed. That’s the job of my better-half. I’ve called her many things over the years but for right now she’s my motivator. Part of her skill set is knowing just when to tweak my nose about things to restart my engines and then haughtily walk away pretending she doesn’t care in the least. Some people might call that passive-aggressive, but not me. I call that motivation with a twist. For example I hear things like this, "Oh honey the room is really shaping up and the drywall looks amazing. It always surprises me that you are able to do this work as well as you do. It looks like there’s a bit of a gap between those two sheets. Is it supposed to be that wide? Will it make the drapes I just bought look like their hanging crooked? Don’t forget to fix that before we start painting." And so it goes!
She has no subtlety at all. She started a week ago arriving home from her shopping trips with questions about what furnishings would look best in the new room. What kind of older, cool looking vanity she would purchase for her huge collection of makeup and lotions. She dragged me out one day to just visit a few stores for an hour or so. I ended up looking at throw rugs and other assorted furnishings for the new room. She’s about as subtle as a hand grenade.
Regardless of all the gamesmanship the room will be completed at least two weeks ahead of schedule. Hooray for me because I’ve been assured and promised there would be no more major projects until next Fall. The translation of that promise is actually this, "Honey, I think the living room is looking too peachy. I’m really sick of that color and maybe we should change it out before any of the summer guests arrive. What do you think?
Like I said, subtle!
Do you have termites? Are you aware of termites? If you answered yes to those two questions then you are eligible to participate in Termite Awareness Week celebrated between March 25-29. Another of those socially responsible and politically correct observances that no one ever pays attention to. I really don’t have more more to say in the matter since it’s a totally ridiculous observance. I just thought it was my civic duty to make everyone aware. What’s the point in having observances if no one is observing.
I’m about to rant a bit about a few things political so those of you with your heads in the sand may want to go elsewhere. This morning my better-half and I made the mistake of going food shopping at a local establishment. I hope your all as happy as I am to see the food prices continuing to skyrocket. It was also a good week for bad news for those of us on a fixed income. Medicare costs are climbing at a rate well beyond food costs, gas prices are climbing to near $4.00 a gallon, and my taxes are going through the roof. Am I I permitted to complain and bitch or is that against the rules these days. My Medicare Supplemental program just advised me that my monthly premiums will be increased approximately 55% in the coming months along with most of the deductibles and co-pays. Just good news all around thanks to the skilled crafters of the Obamacare Medical Plan and the big “O” himself.
My doctor of 12 years announced a month ago that he and his wife (also a doctor) had sold their practice and were leaving the country. It was no longer possible for them to afford to stay here under the preposterous government mandated Obamacare increases and restrictive rules. Remind me to thank the effing President for nothing except maybe destroying the countries healthcare system and the economy in one fatal swoop.
I hope all of you Obama supports will line up at the polls in a few years to help elect him for a third term. I figure he’s been working diligently to find a way to bypass the constitution once again and make himself President/King/Dictator for life. Then we can show the world what a second rate country we really are becoming with our own version of Hugo Chavez.
What a freaking nightmare!
I’ve decided to have a quiet and restful day today to catch my breathe and relax a little. My better-half is off to work in my car since her vehicle took a hissy fit this morning and refused to start (allegedly). I was awakened by her at 5:00 am from a wonderfully deep sleep to be brought up to speed about her car. It’s moments like that for me that test the limits of any relationship.
I became just conscious enough to tell her where my car keys were and for her to take my car. I immediately attempted to fall back to sleep but as you all know once your awakened it’s sometimes impossible. I laid in bed for another half hour and finally gave up. I threw on some clothes, had a cup of really awful coffee, and headed to the garage to address her problem.
You must understand that my better-half has super powers never before seen on this planet. She is Anti-Technology Girl and has the ability to just look at a piece of technology or machinery and cause it to not work. I cringe every time she walks by any of my computer equipment because sometimes that’s all it takes. She has the ability to cause any device with virtually no moving parts to malfunction repeatedly but only when she’s using it. It’s freaking scary sometimes.
She can pick up a brand new remote control that was working properly for me five minutes ago and have it fail. I try to humor her but at times it’s just not possible. Her list is endless; computers that make errors that are impossible for them to make, her car that never had a problem starting won’t start, and on and on it goes with no possible explanations from her.
Being the trained observer that I am I’ve come to the conclusion that the problem just might be her. She can’t set the time on a clock, she can’t do anything on a computer without retraining every week, and I’m the guy who gets to spend his life following her around to fix these problems.
All of that being said I just knew that when I arrived in the garage this morning that her car would start. I climbed into the car, turned the key, and it started immediately without any weird sounds or hesitation whatsoever. Oh, did I forget to mention what the first thing she asked me in my groggy half-awake state? "What did you do to my car? That statement alone should tell you the rest of the story.
It’s not often she’s rendered speechless about anything but when I called to tell her the car was fine I received a full five seconds of dead silence. I should call the Guinness World Record people since in my experience that is a world record if there ever was one.
Now I’m free to go about my life knowing I’ve solved another of her hundreds of mysterious problems that seem to fix themselves as soon as I arrive. That’s what every successful relationship is I suppose; give and take, good and bad, and about a ton of BS you both have to ignore to survive together.
Ain’t love grand.
Well, we’re buried under another foot of snow and I’m beginning to hate it. Mother Nature’s taking it upon herself to be annoying and there are a few hundred thousand people here in Maine who are no longer amused. Today was spent sitting in the house and looking longingly out the window for one ray of the ever illusive sunshine. After a few hours of that I was ready to fire up the snowblower and get to work. After clearing the snow I returned to the house to again sit and look out the window until the snow again piled up. Today that is my life.
Around 2 pm I retired to the man-cave for a few hours of computer time and some quality time with the cat. He was no help at all so in frustration I returned to my dry walling project. I set up an area in the garage and began to cut the drywall panels for the room remodel. What a mess. I finished enough panels to do about half of the walls and called it a day when I realized the longer I worked the more mess I was making. Falling back to an always available old saying, "all things in moderation", made it easy for me to clean up the area and walk away. My better-half, that burley female construction worker (sarcasm), assisted me in carrying the panels up to the second floor which was a real backbreaker for both of us. I felt a little better about returning to my snow watching after having accomplished something today. From weather reports it appears the storm will be lasting until sometime tomorrow so I’ll be snowblowing well into the night. Oh joy!
Fortunately my Harry Potter-2 X-box game arrived two days ago (thank you Amazon) and I was able to spend an hour or so creeping around Hogwarts castle looking for trouble. It’s was a great way to clear my head and relax (at least for me) for a little while.
Tomorrow the snow will stop, the roads will be cleared of snow, and I can get back into my spring time mindset. I can’t let this snow ruin my Spring Fever feelings.
I’m celebrating today because yesterday I received a letter from my doctor. Truthfully, it’s not the kind of letter I like receiving but it is what it is and unfortunately for me it’s colonoscopy time again. Before I go much further I like to throw out a huge thank you to my late mother Janet. It’s her medical history and genetic inheritance that requires me to have these procedures. Her history of colon cancer and cancerous polyps has placed me at the head of the line for frequent colonoscopies. Thanks a lot Mom.
It all started for me in 2004 when my new doctor at that time was reviewing my medical history and gave me the bad news that colonoscopies were about to become a huge part of my life. I had no knowledge of what colonoscopies were at that time but I was to find out rather quickly how much fun they weren’t. As the first colonoscopy approached I was directed to pick up a “Colonoscopy Preparation Kit” at my doctors office. It contained a gallon of liquid and a couple of pouches of powder that were to be mixed together and consumed the night before the procedure. I actually laughed when he told me that I had to drink that entire gallon in one sitting (no pun intended). He also warned me not to wander too far from a bathroom which I failed to take all that seriously. Big gigantic mistake number one.
Being the obedient person that I am I followed his instructions to the letter and discovered very quickly that his warnings were not to be taken lightly. I was sitting quietly on my deck when I felt a rumble. It felt like a very small earthquake tremor at first but immediately I realized I might be more than a few steps too far from the closest bathroom. I became a cross between Mt. Vesuvius and a high pressure fire hose. I almost made to the bathroom but not quite. Big gigantic mistake number two.
After a hour of sitting, then an hour of cleanup I was cleansed inside and out and ready to go. I was very nervous about the procedure but after receiving some really excellent drugs I was ready for anything. I remember vaguely my ass hanging out in the wind and a number of people back there talking and looking around. The next thing I remember I was in the recovery room, a much more humble person to be sure.
The good news was that my first colonoscopy experience was over and the bad news was given to me later by the doctor. I’d be required to do this every three years for the rest of my effing life. I wasn’t thrilled about that fact but I understand how important these procedures are to extending my life.
Since that first experience I’ve had three additional colonoscopies and I hate to admit it but I think I’m getting used to them. The first one they knocked me out with drugs, the second one I took a lighter drug dose and was able to remain semi awake and able to listen to the doctors and nurses as they reamed me out. The third one I took an even smaller dose of drugs and was able to talk with the doctor while he was doing the procedure and they even brought in a small television so I could see exactly what the camera stuck up my butt was showing the doctor. I don’t think I’ll do that again because that was a little weird. It was like looking down a long pink and disgusting tunnel. That’s one TV show I think I’ll pass on the next time around. I’ll just stick to the good drugs, take a short nap, and deal with my sore butt later.
I should gladly note that these procedures failed to find any major problems for which I’m exceedingly grateful. They’re actually a very efficient way for early detection and treatment of what could be a life threatening situation. When your told for the first time that you need to have a colonoscopy, just smile, drink your laxatives, and enjoy the drugs. It could save your life.
I hear often from friends and family alike that I’m a cynic, sarcastic, have a bad attitude, and don’t think much of this human race I’m a part of. Here’s a news flash people, I’m all of those things and a bag of chips. I was raised to do the right thing whenever possible regardless of the consequences and it’s one of the main reasons I became a police officer. But things have changed dramatically in the last twenty years. Some good changes but many that aren’t so good. I certainly wouldn’t want to be a young child being raised now. They’re all eventually turned into fearful and paranoid little people who are afraid of everyone around them except for their mother and father. I understand that in most cases it’s a necessity considering all of the lunatics and perverts running the streets but it is a sad commentary of everyday American life and values.
We as a people have become so ‘paranoid’ of each other that courtesy and helpfulness between individuals can no longer be expected. I find myself affected in this way in my dealings not just with adults but also with children. I know if I saw a child in distress I would assist immediately but in the back of my mind I would be thinking and worrying, “ Is someone going to sue me or falsely accuse me of wrongdoing” just “to be on the safe side”. I’m afraid that a majority of men in this country are “paranoid” to the extreme in matters like this. I don’t doubt there have been occasions where young children appeared disoriented or lost and people continued on about their business because of these fears. How many times has it been reported that people have stood by and watched as others are raped, stabbed, and murdered without even taking any action as simple as a 911 call.
Years ago when I was in the police academy we were educated about a law called the ‘Good Samaritan Act’. It supposedly protected law enforcement and fire/rescue personnel from lawsuits resulting from their assisting injured individuals. They stressed during this training all of the required certifications you should have just to ‘cover your ass’. CPR and basic emergency medical training come to mind immediately. That’s great for service personnel but I’ll bet any amount of money that the law is so full of loop holes that it wouldn’t be possible to use it to protect an average citizen in those same circumstances. The current thinking seems to be, it’s safer to do nothing and not get involved.
So here’s where we are now. Women and children should run and hide from all men. Men should run and hide if approached by any female, old or young, any child, or any suspicious looking person. No eye contact with anyone at any time because they may rape, rob, abuse, or manhandle you. If you see a crime, keep walking and maybe call from home later or maybe not.
This kind of behavior is destructive to our society on many levels but I do understand the underlying reasons for it. As the country continues to permit individuals to rationalize any and all bad behavior up to and including murder, the situation will never improve. All of the psycho-babble in the world cannot justify or excuse hard core criminal behavior. Where there’s a carrot there must be a stick. Lack of societal deterrence for crimes is to blame. If a crime occurs there must be swift punishment to send the proper message to others and maybe convince the new generations that this isn’t a land full of adult predators who are out to get them.
Excuse me for a minute, I need to check my alarm system, my door locks, my deadbolts, and it’s also time to feed the alligators in the moat. That should keep me safe for another night.
The start of another work week for everyone and unfortunately for me as well. It’s becoming painfully obvious that I’m working much harder being retired than when I was actually working. For some reason I expected that taking early retirement was going to be the end of my labors and believing that makes me a gigantic moron. I should have know better.
I started with a huge and complicated goal when I took retirement. I sold my home and together with my better-half we decided to update and repair her home. I must have been brain damaged as a child to even think to take on a project like that especially dealing with a thirty year old home with five bedrooms. I now only have one wish. I want to meet the effing a-hole who built this place and I want to beat him with a huge stick for about an hour. There isn’t a square room in the entire building, the wiring was a complete and utter disaster, and who in their right effing mind puts drop ceilings in the kitchen and bedrooms.
I thought I was some kind of handy-man when I started this project but I’m a whole lot smarter now. In the last five years I’ve touched damn near every wire, board, window, door, and floor in the freaking building. Guess what? I’m still not finished. If I’m lucky I’ll have the entire house completed except for the kitchen within the next eighteen months. I won’t even begin to tell you what a nightmare the kitchen will be. It has to be gutted completely and redone from scratch.
With my luck I’ll finally get this place finished and then I’ll get hit by a truck getting the mail from the mailbox. I’ve done a few things in my life that deserve a karmic slap but I for the life of me I can’t remember doing anything bad enough to deserve this house. KMN
Enough of the whining. I just left Lowes with a load of material so I can get started on the drywall installation in my bedroom remodel. Lowes should make me their official mascot for this particular store since I spent enough money here to drive their sales for the last four years.
I’m going to finish this bedroom and then I’m taking the summer off. No hammers, nails, paint, or anything else. I going to relax, take lots of photographs, visit distant lands (within Maine), and enjoy the warm weather and the beach. That should clear my head enough to prepare me for next winters project.
Someone help me, I’m trapped in Maine and I can’t get out.
everyuselessthing.com 