OZZY OSBOURNE MEETS JAMES JOYCE

I wonder what Ozzy's blog would look like. I bet it goes something like this:

Izzzz Sharon iz ma fa goo me bray my sizz milkyway bah snizzle.

A drunken James Joyce reading his own "Finnegan's Wake".

DID YOU EVER?

Laugh at the dumbest things? Purely immature things? Things that you feel that no one else in the planet would find funny? You feel all alone, as if you're sitting in a dirty street alley against the wall, laughing to yourself, enjoying the sound as it echoes off the bricks? I've been.

Maybe it's a change for me. But my problem is I can never figure out if it's good or bad. Maybe because I'm laughing for all the wrong reasons? Or laughing at something totally inappropriate? Who's to judge what one finds funny or not? What is there, a law on the books for that? Show me the motherfucker (and it doesn't matter; I won't obey it anyway).

Goddamn Family Guy anyway! Watched the Star Wars parody last night and laughed through the whole thing. Why? I've seen it ten billion times.

Here's a theory: the later at night it is, the funnier stuff seems. You're punch drunk after 10 or so - at least I am anyway. I bet if I watched it again at this hour - 12:44PM, December 30th, 2010 - I wouldn't even crack a smile. Crack my brain, yes, but not a smile.

Signed,

Blogger B. Boogershit.

TV STARS WITH NO JOBS

Ward Cleaver. Had an office he went to but what he did there no one knows. Was probably a bookie.

Ozzie Nelson. He didn't even have an office. The bulk of his day was spent milling around the house. In real life, he and Harriet would've killed each other.

Fred Mertz. Just exactly what did he do? I bet he collected from Ricky for the mob. No nightclubs stay open very long unless one pays 'tribute'.

Shirley Partridge. What did she do before she became Shirley Partridge? Besides that, you can't raise five kids on gig money alone. And that's not even counting Reuben Kincaid's 15% or 20% cut. Then you got that dilapidated bus nickel and diming you to death. She may have killed Mr. Partridge - whoever he was - and collected the insurance money.

Anyone in the Gomez household. And they were rich enough to afford a butler yet! You can make money being ghouls?

Speaking of stuff like that; what exactly did Herman Munster do at the funeral parlor? He couldn't have been a mortician. What mortician carries a huge lunchbox to work with him? ( unless he's bringing stuff home! )

On a final note - and off topic: Was Gilligan his first or last name?

DUKES WITHOUT JOBS

Okay, just what the fuck did Bo and Luke Duke do for a living? "Been in trouble with the law ever since they been born"? Arrest them for fuck's sake! Blowing up buildings, leading police on high speed chases (a felony). Fucking Uncle Jessie: what the fuck does he do for a living? Sits on the farm and bitches about Boss Hogg's land grabs. Well, what the fuck you want? You can't grow no crops so sell the son of a bitch!

Surely Bo and Luke were wanted in the lower 48. And cousin Daisy? Cousin? Get the fuck outta here! Know damn well they were tapping her every chance they got. Catherine Bach or Jessica Simpson; either one, or both - yikes!

DEPARTMENT STORE SANTA

This job surely doesn't pay enough. Don't they have a union?

CHRISTMAS SANTA RAMBLE

Were we taught to believe in Santa in preparation for believing in God, Moses, Jesus, etc.?

We didn't have a chimney. We had a heat duct that ran from the floor of our living room to the upstairs apartment. I was told that that's how Santa got into the house. I asked "well, how does he fit inside?" Mom tells me "it's magic."

What a day, what a day. Felt like someone ran over my legs. A new pain that's been going on for a few months now: poking pain in the rear rib cage (is there such a place?) I'd tell the DX about it but he'll only tell me to take Tylenol; stupid since I have been taking fucking Tylenol. Spasms, he says. My whole body is one big fucking spasm.

I've been in this physical condition for about 12 years now, and I've often thought about what would happen if all of a sudden everything just went away, i.e, the pain, the rotting bones, the stomach problems - everything. It would be a very surreal. It wouldn't even feel right! I think I'd lose my mind - would have to become institutionalized. How about a little of that? Fucking no more pain, discomfort, back to somewhat physical tip top shape and I'd wind up shuffling about in an R wing, wearing a hospital gown and waiting for the next round of medication.

Christmas indeed.

WATCH THOSE SHIFTY EYES

Never leave your drink unattended - least not next to ole' Earl.

WEATHER COREFAST

What a freakin' mess is comin' this a-way. I wonder how forecasts were made before doppler radar. I imagine it was one of those things like "if y'all see the full moon turn purple, it means that a storm is a-comin' this a-way." Or maybe simpler: "lookee up there in the sky! It's a-startin' to snow".

Wooden doppler radar satellites. Buckets with hash marks to measure precipitation (although I think that was used; my stupid joke just backfired but fuck that!)

If you see the wind blowing through the trees at such an angle as to show the underside of the leaves, it means that rain's coming. That one is courtesy of Mom.

THE GHOST OF CHRISTMAS KINK

A while back I recorded my version of this song on Garage Band application. I didn't know the words so I went to one of many zillion lyric websites - most of them are probably reprinting them illegally - and printed them out. As I was singing it into the microphone, the ghost of my great great great grandfather told me that if I continued to do this, I'd...

... seriously, I was taken aback a little by the words by the fact that this song was from 64 or 65 (I refuse to accurately post dates in the middle of ranting). It's funny how so many people leaving comments on youtube screw with the lyrics just as much as "Louie Louie" (which, BTW, I recorded my own version of that, too - but singing my own mishmash of the mythological lyrics).

Meanwhile, back at the ranch...

CURIOSITY IS A HEALTHY TRAIT... XCEPT FOR...

Franklin Delano Roosevelt - Pearl Harbor Address

I really, really, really hate the unprovoked attacks on the U.S.,, namely this and September 11th, 2001. I would never make it as a Defense Secretary or any of those in position to plot out war strategies. My reactions would be way too knee jerk: kick 'em in the ass and keep kicking until you see your foot coming out of their mouths.

In order to have peace, there must be war. Or something like that. I'm really bad on quotes.

EVEN MORE FUN TOONS

MORE FUN TOONS

FUN TOONS FOR A SNOWY DAY

WHAT'S IN A NAME? I GIVE UP!

Here is a partial transcript of a letter the INS sent to my cousin after he requested documents concerning our grandfather:

'Our records indicate that Mr. Gombatta has used the following names: Philip GOMBATTA, AKA: Filippo GAMMETTA, AKA: Filippo GAMBETTA, AKA: Philip GOMBATTO, AKA: Philip GOMMETTO, AKA: Philip AMATO, AKA: Philip GAMMETTA'.

Okay. You're an immigrant, arriving in this country; turn of the 20th century. You want to fit in. You want to simplify your name, sometimes going as far as Anglicizing it. But this? Are they kidding? And, if so, who was doing the kidding; my great grandparents or the INS? Christ! There's only one way to say it: gahm-MET-tah.

In as far as simplification is concerned, I would have went with either a) Gammetta or b) Amato.

Maybe the INS were playing a twisted game with the immigrants: choose a paper slip randomly from a bingo-type rolling cage and whatever you came out with, that was your name.

Side note: every time I see the letters INS, I think of The Independent News Service, the agency who did the wrong thing back in the 70's of hiring Karl Kolchak as one of it's reporters.

Calogero Gammetta indeed!

WONDER HOW MUCH SANTA GOT FOR THIS ENDORSEMENT

GRANDMA'S MARRIAGE BOOKLET ENTRY

Found a little golden nugget whilst going through some scrapbooks and photos and such: the marriage service booklet of my grandmother from 1923. In the back of the book there's a blank space where one can list all of their wedding guests. This is what she wrote:

My Darling Husband and I did not have no wedding guests. So I decided to mark this small space as my diary of the wonderful time we had. The first night He went to the squire’s and got our (word not legible ) Then the next day at. 3.10 we started for our papers at Clearfield Pa - Got there about 4pm went to the Court House came out and went to a restaurant got our supper came out when to the Station arrived at DuBois and 8.00 pm was met by me. Mrs Carlson went to Rev Hilliary Parsonage was married went home went to bed Lived Happily ever afterwards.

Mrs Wm Lockwood

Mr Wm Lockwood

Born Jan 5 1887

married 14th Dec 1923

Mrs Wm Lockwood

Born July 28. 1906

Married 14th Dec 1923

Fairly uneventful to say the least, except maybe for the "went home went to bed" part. Living in Shawmut during the depression.

GRANDMA

GEORGE YOU NASTY BOY!

KIDS WILL BE KIDS!

BEFORE THE DEATH PENALTY BECAME UNCONSTITUTIONAL

Driving in the Daylight

I'm driving along

This on the radio

Gray day, no daylight

Sung slowly breaking through The Daylight

Even though it is

I've turned into a shell

With nothing inside

Heart bursts

Sad happy gladness

"Jimi Hendrix Experience": "Message to Love" intro live at Woodstock

I wonder what Hendrix, Morrison and Joplin would be like now. Conservatives, or just aged Hippies living in the foothills of something. I can see Hendrix and Joplin maybe; Morrison? No way.

Just because I had this song in my head this morning.

The Shandells, Go Go Gorilla

Okay, I'm seven or eight years old and I hear this song maybe once or twice, then it vanishes. It got to the point that I thought I imagined it; as if I had made it up in my head. Was this song an opening theme to a cartoon? An early version of Grape Ape? Was I in the band in a past lifetime? (that doesn't make sense, seeing as this was released in 1965 and I was alive)

Fast forward to 2009 and 2010. I see a retro garage band performing this on youtube. Now, I gotta find out who did the original and where it is - or where it went. Turns out that it was originally sang by The Ideals, then was covered many times by local garage bands during the 60's, back when all one needed was a group of high school friends that really had no technical proficiency on their instruments and bam! next thing you know your band has a local hit 45.

I spent too many years trying to play like Eddie Van Halen, Chet Atkins, Jerry Reed and The Vaughn Brothers. A waste, a waste, and a waste.

Lee Harvey Oswald Assassination

Oswald pays for his "I'm a patsy" remark, this day in 1963, thereby setting off 50+ years of conspiracy theories that, to this day, won't quit. There's a segment in the film "Slacker" where a woman meets a former college classmate in a bookstore who's a Kennedy conspiracy theory nut. He tells her he's in the middle of writing his own book on the incident, tentatively titled "Conspiracy a-Go-Go".

NEVER EAT FROM A HOT DOG CART

.... you just never know....

THE GREAT RODNEY DANGERFIELD

Rodney would have been 89 today, I tell ya.

FEAR AND LOATHING IN THE E.D. AND AT HOME

... if the pains in my back are spasms or a build up to another bleeding ulcer attack. It's funny that, before the first one hit, that I wasn't having aceta attacks. It was more like I'd been kicked in the side. I thought I had pulled a muscle and kept putting a heat pack on it which ( and fuck all I hate this memory ) made it worse. And worse. And worse (btw, this was 2004)

So I go to the ER. Sign in and and then sit in the waiting room for four hours. The pain keeps getting worse and worse. I was doubled over and hallucinating. I had used up all of my endorphins.

Then I have Mom get me some bottled water. I put it where the pain was and it slowly but surely ceased.

Now it's five hours and I say fuck it! I'm getting the fuck outta here! So I sign out and go home. A week later I'm in IC because I'm literally bleeding to death. Transfusions from the time of admission to the time I'm released.

So fuck all now I have to worry every time I get any sort of pain in and around that area. It's probably spasms; I do need a new bed but still... And I shouldn't worry about it because it'll make shit worse! But again, still...

JIMMY DEAN THE SAUSAGE KING

Goes #1 on the country charts this day in 1961. He goes from "Big Bad John" to "A Sleeping Beauty"? A tribute to all necrophiliacs everywhere. Shoot me, OK! I feel like shit. My stomach is bothering me, and now I may have to give up burgers. Christ Almighty! What the fuck is next? Am I going to have to feed myself through a pump tube connected to my stomach?

If it comes to that, it's the end. Sorry kids ( for those who are reading ) but that's the way it goes.

TRY 'EM THEY'RE GREAT!

Biff the Burger Boy sez

Five Lions roaring together...at Savanna Lodge

It's been nigh on near 20+ years since I've been to the Seneca Park Zoo, but these booming roars remind me of years 8 to 9 and being deathly afraid of these guys; so much so that I wouldn't even look at them.

Plus, I had a dream last night of being mauled by a small orangutan, but...

GENEALOGY - THE PAST THE PRESENT, THE PAST

I haven't gone through this stuff in a while - and there's a lot of stuff; scattered in different books, records ( including charts I've hand written ) computer programs that no longer exist and then finally geni.com

But no matter how simplified the data can be displayed, if you show it to your family, they just don't get it, i..e.. who married who, who's father is this, is this the one who died after her blood turned to water...

But they're ( non genealogists ) are right; it should be simplified and possibly even more than it is now. The one key is to not include the children of your great great granduncle ( or whoever ) - that'll confuse everyone.

I've seen family trees online to which I am included as a member, yet I haven't the slightest goddamned clue who the submitter is nor his relationship to myself. What are they trying to do? Make an entire tree from every member of the planet, eventually reaching Adam and Eve? Can you imagine? The project would take so long that you'd have to finish it in your next 25 reincarnate lives - if that's what you believe in. Don't forget: there's a lot of begatting in the Old Testament. You'd have to become a Begat Master.

NEIGHBORS AND THEIR DOGGIES

I'm sitting up here and I can hear the neighbors being mean to their dogs. I haven't seen any physical abuse; don't want to look but here's the question: why have dogs if you don't like them? I mean Jesus! All they do is grump and shout to them through gritted teeth. I mean, c'mon dudes! They're your friends, they're your companions. God damn this makes me angry and sad, but what can I do? Wait until I hear the yipping that comes along with someone abusing their dog?

Well, I haven't heard it yet, and hope I don't. Motherfuckers!

WHO'S THAT KNOCKING ON MY DOOR? GIMME TYLENOL!

Stayed up until 2:30AM watching "Raging Bull" and then Scorsese's first movie, "Who's That Knocking on My Door", featuring a very young Harvey Keitel. I wonder what happened to the actors who played his pals, Joey and Sally "Gaga" ( this was before Lady Gaga, and now wondering if that's where she got her name ).

Anyway, used bed pillow to relax and watch and sure as shit, my fucking neck, shoulder blades and back are killing me. One massive spasm. I can't even relax. Rodney Dangerfield, right? "I tell ya I can't relax!" Fucking Tylenol. I hate taking anything else that might kill me. I read Tylenol works on an empty stomach, but I've had yet to experience that phenomenon.

Who cares what I eat, how I sleep, what pain I am in, what movie I watched? Strange movie, though. All black and white and grimy and overexposed. Some indie director/producer/writer should shoot a movie like that in this day and age. Maybe a follow up to "Who's That Knocking"?

IN THE U.K.

#1 song on the U.K. charts this date, 1971. Saw them in 77 or 78, going on before Aerosmith and stealing the show - least in my opinion they did.

Merle Haggard -- Okie From Muskogee

#1 country song, 1968. Every word in this song is a lie. Haggard's been torching fatties for a long time!

MARTIN SCORSESE TURNS 68 2DAY

Ya freakin' mook!

CELEBRITY COUPLES 2

Now this just ain't right. I mean seriously. I mean really. I mean, the cannon would have blown Lincoln's head clean off. A more accurate pic would be a headless Linc - with backwards hands no less. I mean, c'mon! I saw the funeral pics. I wonder if his head was just glued on. Or maybe a Link look-alike was placed in the casket.

Note how Mary Todd is unaffected by the blast. And who is that next to her? And who is that guy pointing at Boothe? Probably trying to catch the hot dog vendor before he goes away.

I'm going to hell.

CELEBRITY COUPLES: LINCOLN AND TODD

Can you imagine watching the two of them walking down the street? A six foot five 120 pound consumptive looking Abe with a 5 ft 3 5 by 5 chubby Hovell (sic ) with a pug face who was slowly poisoning old Abe with strychnine? I mean, who is the scarier visage: he or she ( or him or her, or she and he... whatever! ) Such a physical contrast.

When I was a little boy, I was fascinated by the Lincoln Assassination. Never mind what he did for the country. I wanted to see all the artist's rendition of the shooting. One of them shows his left hand as being backwards, the thumb pointed outward. Was this a mistake or a true physical deformity he had?

Anyway, we had ( still have actually ) a child's book of the presidents - pre Nixon - and the rendering of Abe for the book shows a small crack in his head, which I accentuated and made longer.

What a fucking weirdo I am, Sam I Am. I have to find the "deformed hand" pic. Back in a moment.

THE CURRENT STATE OF ROCHESTER WATER

Yes, add Clorox Bleach to your wash. And your drinking supply. It's been real nasty the past few days. Like drinking pool water.

PRISONER BENEFITS

Okay, someone in the name of all that's holy tell me how in the fuck prisoners get unemployment benefits. How? How? How in the fuck is that possible?

Although I guess it is true; they are unemployed but goddammit! And the State of New York is saying that "we need to crack down on this". Oh really? So how long has this shit been going on? And how long are they able to collect? Being in prison; isn't that supposed to be a punishment? Yes. You'll be punished by collecting unemployment. That's your punishment sir or madam.

And TV's. That's your punishment. Supplemental Security Income checks: that's punishment.

Stealing people's identities while incarcerated? How does that happen?

I remember watching a show about La Cosa Nostra in America, and someone who was in law enforcement said that criminals have the know all and skills to make it in this world, but they're doing it in the wrong way. He also said that prison is considered a minor inconvenience for the career criminal. Fucking career. Right.

TWIST AND CHOKE

This makes me laugh so hard my stomach hurts. Gets me every time.

GOOD REVIEWS

Okay, here's the deal:

A movie or a TV show gets rave reviews; four star ratings ( or more, depending on what scale's being used ), etc. So you watch it and don't like it. Then you give it another chance. Watch it, don't like it. The question is this:

Does this make me a person of bad taste; that I don't know that what I'm watching is good? Well, I'm here to say that it's fucking total bullshit and I hate people who parrot reviewers remarks. What? No mind of their own? I mean, what is that?

Using some terms like "I enjoyed it but it was a bit too long." So then how the fuck could you have enjoyed it if it was "a bit too long"? Doesn't make fucking sense! No logic to it.

Parrot the reviewers I mean Jesus! You either liked it or hated it, not "enjoyed it".

After all, it's we - you and I - that are the movie going public. Why doesn't someone write a movie guide based solely on the viewing public's reaction? ( Actually, I've seen it pop up periodically in Consumer Reports; they never seem to run with it, though)

Jesus am I pathetic!

HOW DOES THIS HAPPEN?

You wake up from a nap and have a song going through your head that a) you haven't heard since the 70's and b) don't even like. I'm talking about "Boogie Fever". Might have gotten stuck there after I heard Rob Zombie's interpretation of "I'm Your Boogie Man". He should remake BF as well.

Who the hell is it anyway? The Sylvers? Phil Sylvers. Fill Sylvers? More red line typos, like Gombatto.

BIFURCATE

Means to be two branched. George Clooney tells Tim Blake Nelson that the devil appears with a bifurcated tail. Makes no sense. A two branched tail? Maybe I didn't hear the line right.

BTW, sleep is very tiring.

AND...

And must warsh the taste outta my mouth of that gol dang music. Someone on Mom's side of the family said "wash" as "warsh" ; I just can't remember who it was.

And I can't shut up.

I gotta look up the word 'bifercated', see if it's a real word. Just now I spelled it wrong because the red line is-appearing unnerneath the word.

O BROTHER WHERE ART THOU?

Great movie, but now I got that bluegrass/old timey music a-goin' through mah head - which I hate.

BEST LINE

"Will you guys hurry up! By the time we get there, the kid won't be dead anymore!" - Teddy Duchamp urging Chris Chambers and Gordy LaChance to get a move on. From the movie "Stand By Me."

I FORGOT TO INSERT THE PIC

Here He is. Okay, maybe his beard isn't dark like I imagined It to be. (BTW, does everything pertaining to him have to be capitalized?)

There's a website where you can actually talk to God online. Well, why not? He created the internet ( and not George Bush Sr.) I wonder if He has his own Email. I wonder if He's on Facebook. Does he Blog?

More blasphemous thoughts ( which is just what I'll be accused of after this post ) for a dreary Sunday afternoon.

NOTHING FROM NOTHING

Is there such a thing as infinite? Don't you have to measure it by something finite, therefore creating the infinite finite?

"In the beginning..."

When I was a kid, I always imagined God sitting in front of this infinite blank page, his head in his hands and his elbows on his knees: thinking, as it were. He's wearing a dark robe, has an official Monk haircut and a long, scraggly ZZ Top beard.

But just think of it: Something coming from nothing. Not possible. There's always the question "well, where did God come from?" Did He just pop out of nothing? He just popped out! From nothing! If that's true, then who created the nothing? Certainly nothing didn't create itself, for if that was so, then something would have had to create nothing! Then that would mean there is no such thing as nothing! Which then creates the question " where did God come from?" He had to have come from something!

And that's the thought for this crappy, Sunday afternoon.

HAPPILY SAD

MBV always makes me feel this way. Eh! Whaddya gonna do?

My Bloody Valentine - Don't ask why

I would guess that people think My Bloody Valentine to be an over the top death/goth metal band. I don't think this is an official video; I could be wrong. In a My Bloody Valentine mood. Scarlett Johansson.

NEIL YOUNG TURNS 65

... and won't retire.

Three things come to mind when I watch this: all of the wacky killers running about in CA, i.e, Manson and The Zodiac ( who was probably in the audience here; after all, SF was his territory); the fact that a teenage Howard Stern would bang girls to this song, proving that maybe Things Go Better With Pot; and finally, that I wonder if David Crosby remembers playing here. I actually wonder if David Crosby remembers anything between the ages of 16 and 50.

This song seems more like The Doors version of Caulifornia, and not the Peace, Love, Tune in, Drop Out tune.

AMAZON.COM GUIDE TO PEDOPHILIA (sic)

Oh for the love of Christ!! What is the matter with people?! Are they fucking serious with this shit? A guide to pedophilia? Last I heard pedophilia was against the law, but hey! What do I know?

I'll tell you what I know: Amazon should be boycotted and whoever wrote this so called "tome" should be strapped up by his cugghiuni and hung from the ceiling! ( although he probably enjoys shit like that! )

Why? Why? WHY? It's like Alan Ginsburg joining NAMBLA to exorcise his right to free speech. Right! Yes. Join NAMBLA to exorcise your right to free speech. Why you filthy motherfucker! I hope your burning in hell with that other son of a bitch, John Phillips!

And that's the way it is, November 11, 2010.

NOW JUST WAIT A GOL DANG MINUTE, HERE!

After tornado season is over, stormchasers switch to blizzardchasers. What?! Are they nuts? Have they lost their minds?! (actually, given the line of "work" they're in, I think they have)

Are they thinking that people who live outside of the snow belts would actually pay to see a blizzard? If they can find a steady client list, well, I guess pigs do fly.

How about heat wave chasers? How about flood chasers? Not only weather events, but geological ones as well: earthquake chasers. Hey! Why not? We got ghostchasers and hunters.

Jesus! How about nice weather chasers? How about clear blue sky chasers? Great Gosh Almighty!

WE MAY AS WELL GET USED TO IT

Because it's going to come anyway, global warming or not.

FAMILY TREE

Now I know why I haven't fooled with genealogy software for a while. I just hammered my fingers, my right hand, and my shoulder whilst editing, re-editing, deleting, moving around this and that file. It's fucking easier to just write the goddamned shit down on family tree forms. I mean Jesus!

This is my great-grandfather Giuseppe Gammetta, where it all started, namely the twelve million or so name changes. How we wound up with Gombatto no one knows.

One of my distant, distant cousins from Italy told us that Gammetta means "little legs" in Italian. I think in my case, Gombatto means "useless legs". The marimba curse goes on and on.

RALPH CIRELLA: BERRY BOY

Howard's Boy Friday, who never works on Friday. Goes to Howard's house in the Hamptons, drinks, overeats, smokes pot, then passes out naked in the guest room. Wakes up to discover that he's puked and shit the bed. Oh that boy!

STREET VENDORS

Hey! They gotta go, they gotta go.

GARY DELL'ABATE SWIMMING ABOUT

Gary Dell'Abate laying eggs to release more of his spawn on the world. At least his spawn will be underwater.

BABA BOOEY HOWARD STERM

I came across some charactures I did of The Howard Stern crew. Fafa Fooey!

STILL TWISTER AND CORNFUSED

It gets worse and worse as the days go by. It's eating away at me but I can't let it because I'll die. My acid stomach won't be able to take it.

Bok Choy, motherfuckers!

MICK JAGGER'S ASS

Where in the name of Brian Jones did someone get this footage? I wanna see the whole movie.

BUCK OWENS AND THE INVASION FROM MARS

Number one song on the country charts. Suits are courtesy of Jolly Green Giant vegetables.

THE SOUTH'S GONNA RISE AGAIN

More like the crimson tide is gonna ride again. Nothing like a Grindhouse movie on a Saturday Night.

TOP OF THE CHARTS

November 6, 1971, and Cher goes #1 on the charts. "Poppa would have shot if he knew what he'd done". So would I.

WHAT TURNS AN ALL AMERICAN BOY INTO

... one of these. Finally got the DVD ( and what's with DVD's going the way of the dinosaur? Son of a bitch anyway!)

WHAT TURNS AN ALL AMERICAN BOY INTO

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oiSc3xAXX5g

CONFUSED

I have to run and not look back. Finally.

Do we all think the world revolves around us? Maybe when I was a kid I thought like that.

I just don't need shit anymore; plain and simple. I'm sad, angry - I didn't do anything wrong, but now I get the "wall" treatment. So now I'll do the "civil" treatment.

"How is your father?" Nope. "How is your mom?" Nope.

I'm fucking sick, confused, angry and near anxiety attack ( although it won't be as bad as the one I had yesterday. Sheesh!)

CHOKING - TARGETS

I finally got the movie. Man, that guy that just flips out and starts taking pot shots at people from the top of an oil storage tank ( is that what's called? ) Strange though: he doesn't do the typical raging psycho brain melting down maniac. He's just this real Leave It To Beaver kind of character, living in a Ozzy and Harriet type of house with his wife. He looks like a young Willem DeFoe.

Wait... just imagine a young Ozzy Nelson... no, that's not it.

But anyway, he just decides one day to up and kill his family, then climbs to the top of a refinery tank and starts taking pot shots at people on the expressway. Driving that white Mustang and always chewing on a Baby Ruth bar.

I'm confused.

SOMETIMES YOU BLOW IT

Back to the 60's, tight in stomach. No malice aforethought. Too bad the Grudgemaster Generals. I get away with nothing, Golden Boy is here, there, and everywhere. Maybe the pain will stop, but it'll take some time. I got nothin' but fucking time anyway. They've set loose the Monster; I knew it was going to happen one day, and it looks like this is the day it all goes down.

Things change, in a moment's notice. I didn't do anything, I mean what the fuck, I mean what the fuck? They are all in Gold, and we are city shit! We have no earth to revolve in, but they think they are the Earth. Here we are, circling their earth, like we are the minions in some grandiose play that they keep staging; only for them, not for us. They like to watch themselves in the mirror and ask not what your family can do. It's more like what my family can do for them. Faltering Kennedy vibe going on here. Only the cracks in their head will soon bleed, but it just doesn't seem to happen. Ever.

My stomach is tight and I don't want to bleed to death; nearly, and again. This will take some time to get over, but it's finally done and I knew the day would come, but I just wasn't fucking ready for it.

Halloween mask my ass!

LIFE AFTER DEATH: REINCARNATION

Okay, let's say that does exist. Then how the fuck are you going to remember who you were in a past life? ( other than that past life reading shit ) If you truly can't remember who you were ( come on, face it, no one can) well...

I was watching "Angel Heart", and at the end of the movie, Mickey Rourke finds out he was a victim of a soul switching voodoo spell. Robert DeNiro, as the devil, tells him "you've been living in another man's memories". Think about that for a while. Your "real" self is living in someone else's memories. Then where are the memories of your "real" self? And how do you locate them?

Chew on this for awhile: could it be possible that your "real self" is also living in someone else's memories? It could go around and around and around.

I'm no student of Buddhism, but I heard someone say that, to find Nirvana, you have to "get off the wheel". How the fuck do you do that? When you stop living in someone else's memories? When you find your "true self"?

And afterwards, what do you do when you find your "true self"? What are you supposed to do then? I imagine you'd be sitting in blank nothingness, like The Boob in "Yellow Submarine", with a typewriter and typing out nonsense which, although it sounds scientific, is absolute double talk Dadaism.

I think about weird shit like that.

BUS RIDER

Soon, I may have to do it; ride the bus to my DX appointments. I wouldn't have a problem with it if I weren't disabled, but...

In order to do this, I would have to walk one block uphill (using a walker ), get on the bus ( which, as everyone knows is never never on time; I don't care what anyone says), ride downtown (which is the major hub; you wanna get somewhere, you gotta go downtown) transfer to another bus, then hope to Christ you get to your appointment on time.

I was - was being the operative word - qualified for Medical Transportation. Now for some fucking reason they pulled it, saying that my DX has to sign off for it. The response I got was "can't you ride the bus"? Well, yes I can ride the bus providing that someone takes me to the goddamned bus stop!

I didn't ask to be disabled. More than anything I wished the shit would just stop; to just fucking go away. How does that work anyway? Who do I wish to? What, I gotta go to one of them wishing wells and throw a quarter in, or maybe one of the fountains in one of the local malls but I'd still have to ride the bus to get there!

Getting back to it, I didn't ask for this shit. Like my father says "it is what it is".

If I was in shape, yes I'd ride the bus but if I was in shape I'd still be goddamned working and had enough money to own a fucking car!

And I don't care what anyone says: waiting for the bus in rotten weather is the rottenest; even the hardcore bus riders will tell you that.

I wonder if I'm being a baby. Maybe so, but let them ( the infamous 'them', who thwart everything) get up in the morning with spasms so bad you wonder if this is the day that you finally won't be able to walk anymore. Let them make their bed, only to lay back down on it because of the spasms caused by said chore.

Tell ya one thing: this Thursday, my DX is gonna get a goddamned earful - which may fall on deaf ones, seeing as he barely speaks English. A topic for another entry.

...AND NOW

They don't even let you have fun on the bus anymore.

I'd like to pull a Bender move while dining at a fine restaurant, asking the waiter "can I see your fortified wine list?"

KNOCK DOWN LOADED

I drank this shit on a bus ride to a party; in a paper bag no less. It was common practice ( for alky's like me anyway ) to get loaded before arriving because some people would hoard the alcohol to make sure they didn't run out; a safety stash, if you will.

Christ Almighty what the fuck did I do to myself?

IT'S HALLOWEENIE TIME! IT'S HALLOWEENIE TIME!

Okay. In a few moments in will be Halloween. More like Vandalism-ween.

We haven't had trick or treaters here in over 30 years, no joke. Most likely all of the kids in the neighborhood have grown up and moved on to bigger and better things; they've become yard bosses at Albion Correctional Facility.

Here's a question: what elements does a book or movie have to have to be categorized as "horror"? I always thought of "Lord of The Flies" as a horror movie; same for "Deliverance". " I Heart Huckabee's"; very very horrific!

I've posed this question to a few people and they've said that there has to be a supernatural element in the movie for it to be labeled as "horror". One fault with that logic: "Psycho" is considered one of the all time classic horror movies, yet there is no supernatural element to it. Insanity, yes. Ghosts, demons and creatures? None.

Here's how I define a horror movie: one that horrifies the audience, no matter what the plot.

In the past - and currently - torture movies are considered horror, i.e," Last House on The Left", " Saw", "Hostel" and "Hostel 2" ( which is really over the top), and the aforementioned "I Heart Huckabees." But man oh man, "Hostel 2" really goes over the edge. I just can't believe it was nationally released; that and it never caught any backlash for some of its scenes.

Oh well. It's a Happy Crappy Nappy Bappy Halloween, and all is to rest easy, until the nightmares come ( and the definition of a nightmare is dreaming of being tied to a chair and forced to watch "I Heart Huckabees" and "Ishtar" over and over again, much like Alec in "A Clockwork Orange".)

THIS IS GRANDMA

... and this is her teeth. Was she being funny or trying to scare the shit out of us? Before my time, so I don't remember.

We have a pic of my grandfather's mother; yes, she must have contracted one of those Victorian plagues. As Colonel Kurtz said "The horror! The horror!" Her pic soon to be posted ( as soon as I can locate it.