Sunday, November 15, 2009
Mr. brain comments
We're all basically our brains. Without them, the body just lies there like a suit of clothes waiting to be put on for the day. Nope, brains make you breathe, eat and do all the things that enable support, energy and transportation for the brain. We are really just wrinkled, grey cortex matter with sensory equipment to relate to one another.
My brain is in Kansas right now and wondering just how much more it can take watching the bodies and talking heads on Fox News babble and bluster WITHOUT brains guiding them in their endeavors. It's like watching beheaded chickens running around the barnyard. How did they come to lose their brains and what in god's name is propelling them? My brain has watched this for several days now and is puzzled beyond measure.
No! my brain isn't superior. far from it. But the body called what-? - Hannidy or something like that? My god, it's from some other planet.
Mr. brain would go on but the transport device has expended itself for today. More tomorrow.
Saturday, November 14, 2009
Failure as a Lifestyle
So it was with bittersweet aplomb that we watched our team self-destruct today before our very eyes. Unravel. Implode. Weave all over the field and, yes, fart itself to death. Good Lord!
We will soon go to Kansas City for our annual Failed Architects Reliving Traditionally Expected Disaster (F.A.R.T.E.D.) dinner, departing to our failed lives the next day. Stay tuned.........
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Driving to Wichita
Hitting a cow or some other 1,500 pound object will seriously disrupt your nap and possibly damage the alarm clock, so make sure there are no cattle near the road on the horizon. (and, hope Clem, the guy in Newton, has completed his daily trip to Piggly Wiggly across the highway for snacks, pork rinds and diet pop.)
You shouldn't try this at night, for obvious reasons. It's when the blind folks drive.
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
Family history
Oh, did I mention the families of husbands 2 and 3? No, I didn't. Husband #2's family, once inherited by SM (sainted mother) consists of one dead kid (eye-out in beer bottle fight, death via alcholism), another obeise and soon-to-be dead kid, now fat, also drunk and living on the State dole, two other normal kids, just greedy and fucked up otherwise.
And did I mention the families of husband #3, recently dead? No, I didn't. Well, these clowns top old hubby #2 head and shoulders. Hubby #3 inhereted about $1M bucks from wife #1, dead from emphysema, kept the money, gave it out to the needy (Yes, by god, Mr. Maker is proud of this one for that at least). Well, hubby #3's family couldn't stand the codgered old fucking dick so when SM married him they all shouted allelieua and said how WONderrrrrful SM was for taking care of him. Geezus, she all but saved him from certain neglect and death had the kids anything to do with it. Give the old Tonto a fucking blanket, a skin of water and banish him out on the prairie - worked for the indians.
Yep, hubby #3's dead 'n gone...kids split with the cash (Yes, it WAS legally theirs), and SM hasn't seen hide nor hair of 'em since. (except the one still poor one who lives nearby). Hey, thanks for taking care of 'Dad'. yeah, we all sure meant it. We ain't giving you one fucking dime of this and moreover, ain't replacing the carpet in your house on which the old fuck snuffed out the nearly 575,980 cigarettes he smoked in there.
Well, tomorrow's another day.....
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
What the Hell is the Point?
We usually go to a foot ball game, engage in a tailgate party, watch our team lose, sometimes have dinner, then go home. Pen and I usually stay overnight in Kansas City, then he and I go back to the left coast and Bert goes back and we spend the rest of the year on email complaining about how our team did THAT day and the rest of the year. Other teams are always better, not so much because they ARE better but because we are bad. We suck, in fact.
That brings me to the first point I suppose, if there is a point. Notice the use of 'we'. We have learned to associate our entire net worth, our self esteem, our very sacred honor (that's the shit that was in the declaration of Independence I think)...yes, all that on the success, or lack thereof, of our football team. I have been trying to figure this phenomina out all my life - a considerable time now - and have no answer with which I am satisfied.
two days and a wake-up to game day. to be continued....
Friday, November 6, 2009
Flotsam and Jetsam
Saturday, October 31, 2009
A WWII Story
2nd Lt. Richard Carl Nethaway, drafted in the Selective Service drawing in July 1941, sworn in at
I’m going to tell you a little about my part in WWII. It was a small part. Although most GI’s said that. Everybody had a small part. A small slice of it that was maybe inconsequential. Maybe not. Me, I flew airplanes. Transport airplanes. In China-Burma-India. The ‘Hump’.
There were lots of other jobs to do in WWII. You could go across North Africa, up to
But like I said, I flew airplanes, had hot meals, slept in barracks.
For what it’s worth, let me tell you what I did.
To be continued -