Dear Diary.
Why does it seem that the less that I do, the more I can find to write about?
As of late, I have been too busy having fun, therefore, finding less time to write about it all.
Well, this may make me late for work but let me tell you about my Christmas.
It was good.
I cooked a turkey with potatoes and gravy and all the usual side dishes, including candied sweet potatoes.
This was almost a disaster when I woke up early with a hangover and the oven wouldn't light. After some frustration and a few cuss words, I remedied that problem by pouring hot water over the gas tank outside in case something was frozen up. I was grasping for straws with that one, but I was desperate, and it worked!
I moved on to some Jack Daniels and egg nog for breakfast, then rest of the day went smooth.
To complete the Christmas atmosphere, I set out trays of nuts, and cheese and crackers.
Fortunately my friend, D-Mac, showed up to spend the holiday with me and help consume it all.
Between eating and drinking,we filled any empty space in the weekend by watching all of the next weeks new release videos and playing on the computer.
Unfortunately, there was no snow. Not even a cloud in the sky, and if you know me, you know how much I love a nasty day.
Oh well. Come Monday morning, when I had to travel down the mountain and to the village, there was snow a plenty.
Now the New Years weekend is almost upon us and I hope for an equally entertaining time.
Let the cocktails flow!
I still have a cheeselog.
Wednesday, December 29, 2004
Sunday, December 19, 2004
Makin' Bacon
For lack of anything philosophical to share, I give you this.
While cooking breakfast this morning, I began to wonder. ..
If bacon grease is so flammable, why haven't I heard reports of pigs randomly bursting into flames?
Is that why they roll in the cool mud?
While cooking breakfast this morning, I began to wonder. ..
If bacon grease is so flammable, why haven't I heard reports of pigs randomly bursting into flames?
Is that why they roll in the cool mud?
Wednesday, December 15, 2004
Why Be Normal
One fine day while applying a bumper sticker to my van...
The bumper sticker read, WHY BE NORMAL, so naturally, I was applying it upside down for maximum effect.
An elderly woman that was watching from the passenger seat of another nearby vehicle called me over to her.
"Young man", she said, "People have told me that all I need is the letter "L", and I could be NORMAL."
Then she smiled and said, "My name is Norma."
The bumper sticker read, WHY BE NORMAL, so naturally, I was applying it upside down for maximum effect.
An elderly woman that was watching from the passenger seat of another nearby vehicle called me over to her.
"Young man", she said, "People have told me that all I need is the letter "L", and I could be NORMAL."
Then she smiled and said, "My name is Norma."
Sunday, December 12, 2004
Thursday, December 09, 2004
Saturday, December 04, 2004
Onomatopoeia
Ring, Ring...
I'm watching the telly a couple nights ago and the phone rings. I let the machine take the message.
It's this guy that I haven't seen in almost 11 years.
I get a little anxious because the last time I saw him, he loaned me 500 bucks.
He calls again a few minutes later, this time no message.
After a few minutes of nervous pacing, I decide to call him back and get it out of the way.
"Hey! This is Jim, returning your call."
As it turns out, he is just drinking and dialing old friends, trying to stay in touch. He told me that he had always enjoyed my happy go lucky attitude about life, and my laughable observations on the otherwise mundane.
I don't even think he remembered loaning me the money.
He always boasted that he had a fat wallet and liked to pay for the dinner or drinks.
An authentic Mr. Nice Guy.
A little back-story here...
We had sailed together as part of a 10 person crew aboard a schooner traversing from Camden Maine to Key West Florida, and visa versa. Many good times were had.
At the end of the last voyage, I was to take a train back down to Florida to pick up my van and drive it back to Maine.
I was not fully confident that the van was worthy of the trip, hence, his generous loan of emergency fundage.
Back to the phone call...
I reminded him that the last time we seen each other, he had said, "I'll probably never see you again but, would you like to borrow 500 dollars?" And, of course, I said, "Sure."
Now, it's eleven years later.
We reminisce and catch up.
Then he says, "I sold my business for 20 million dollars.
Do you need some more money?"
I say, "nah, I'm good."
I mean, who doesn't need some more money?!
Do you think he will interpret my "nah, I'm good",
as "Well, Hell yeah!!!!!"?
Am I just stupid?
I gave him my mailing address...
just in case!
Bling, Bling!
I'm watching the telly a couple nights ago and the phone rings. I let the machine take the message.
It's this guy that I haven't seen in almost 11 years.
I get a little anxious because the last time I saw him, he loaned me 500 bucks.
He calls again a few minutes later, this time no message.
After a few minutes of nervous pacing, I decide to call him back and get it out of the way.
"Hey! This is Jim, returning your call."
As it turns out, he is just drinking and dialing old friends, trying to stay in touch. He told me that he had always enjoyed my happy go lucky attitude about life, and my laughable observations on the otherwise mundane.
I don't even think he remembered loaning me the money.
He always boasted that he had a fat wallet and liked to pay for the dinner or drinks.
An authentic Mr. Nice Guy.
A little back-story here...
We had sailed together as part of a 10 person crew aboard a schooner traversing from Camden Maine to Key West Florida, and visa versa. Many good times were had.
At the end of the last voyage, I was to take a train back down to Florida to pick up my van and drive it back to Maine.
I was not fully confident that the van was worthy of the trip, hence, his generous loan of emergency fundage.
Back to the phone call...
I reminded him that the last time we seen each other, he had said, "I'll probably never see you again but, would you like to borrow 500 dollars?" And, of course, I said, "Sure."
Now, it's eleven years later.
We reminisce and catch up.
Then he says, "I sold my business for 20 million dollars.
Do you need some more money?"
I say, "nah, I'm good."
I mean, who doesn't need some more money?!
Do you think he will interpret my "nah, I'm good",
as "Well, Hell yeah!!!!!"?
Am I just stupid?
I gave him my mailing address...
just in case!
Bling, Bling!
Thursday, December 02, 2004
Klaatu Verada Niktu
Yesterday was the most outstandingly, beautiful, drizzly, blustery day...
and I had to work!
Today is my day off, and that damned flaming glob in the sky won't leave me alone!
It's sucking my soul right out of me and bleeding me dry. I can't escape from it!
FUCK!
It was grey for a few minutes and I thought it might actually be turning into a decent day, so I came to the computer to blog a fresh idea that I had.
As soon as I'm logged on, I am blasted by an endless beam of blazing hell fire from above!
I can't even remember what I was going to blog about!
If only I had a magic spell to make it dark and rainy on my command.
"ETERNUS NOCTOURNUM"
???
Well... That didn't work.
I'll just have to come back later when my flesh isn't melting. Sorry to have wasted your time with my personal problems like this.
fuck!
and I had to work!
Today is my day off, and that damned flaming glob in the sky won't leave me alone!
It's sucking my soul right out of me and bleeding me dry. I can't escape from it!
FUCK!
It was grey for a few minutes and I thought it might actually be turning into a decent day, so I came to the computer to blog a fresh idea that I had.
As soon as I'm logged on, I am blasted by an endless beam of blazing hell fire from above!
I can't even remember what I was going to blog about!
If only I had a magic spell to make it dark and rainy on my command.
"ETERNUS NOCTOURNUM"
???
Well... That didn't work.
I'll just have to come back later when my flesh isn't melting. Sorry to have wasted your time with my personal problems like this.
fuck!
Wednesday, November 24, 2004
handy man
One fine day while working at the video store.
I had an arm full of DVD's, and was awkwardly working on filing them on a shelf with my other hand. Trying to separate an area on the shelf with two fingers, while attempting to stick the disc in the proper location and remove the empty box with the remaining fingers without forfeiting my grip on the stack of discs in my other arm.
Arrrg!
I got to thinking how much easier it would be if I had two hands at the end of each arm!
BRILLIANT!
Why hadn't the big "G" thought of this back at creation?
Just think of all the convinces that this would open up!
Here are a few that come to mind...
I had an arm full of DVD's, and was awkwardly working on filing them on a shelf with my other hand. Trying to separate an area on the shelf with two fingers, while attempting to stick the disc in the proper location and remove the empty box with the remaining fingers without forfeiting my grip on the stack of discs in my other arm.
Arrrg!
I got to thinking how much easier it would be if I had two hands at the end of each arm!
BRILLIANT!
Why hadn't the big "G" thought of this back at creation?
Just think of all the convinces that this would open up!
Here are a few that come to mind...
- Giving Your Cat a Bath
- Eating and Drinking While Driving
- Full Body Massages
- Carrying 6-packs of Beer
- Untangling Christmas Lights
- Showing Your "Horns" at a Rock Concert
And, best of all...
I Could Type With Four Fingers, Instead of Two!
Thank You, and Have a Weird Day!
Saturday, November 20, 2004
DEAD HEAD
I woke up laying on my arm in such a way that I lost all feeling in it.
It was like it wasn't even attached.
It was like it wasn't even attached.
Not that tingley kind of asleep, either.
Pure Dead Weight!
When I tried to roll over, it was like an anchor.
I touched it with my other hand and tried to lift it, but it was too heavy. I didn't have the leverage. I couldn't even feel my hand on it.
It was so weird!
After wrestling with it for a few minutes it slowly regained feeling.
It got me thinking, though...
What if that happened to your head?
I mean, you wake up and your head is just hanging off your shoulders like a bowling ball that some maniacal scientist had grafted onto you in your sleep?
You try holding it up with your hands, but you can't feel it well enough to get a hold of it.
So, now your trying to get down the stairs to get to the bathroom mirror to see if in fact your head is still there, and this bowling ball is just flopping back and forth knocking things off the wall. You slip in all the drool and fall head first down the steps!?
I guess I'm lucky that this time it was only my arm. This time!
If it ever does happen, though, I'll be ready.
I've set up some bowling pins at the bottom of the stairs.
Thursday, November 18, 2004
Jeepers Peepers
A few weeks ago, it was the peak of Color Season.
That's when the Blue Haired Leaf Peepers invade Maine.
It is their mission to watch the leaves fall off of the trees.
It was on one of these colorful days that I went down into the village and encountered...
" Dawn of the Almost Dead"
(insert scary music here)
I pulled my truck into the local "Gas n' Shit",
a combination filling station and fast food establishment, and what I saw next was ...
Beyond Reality!
The entire paved area surrounding the Gas n' Shit, was randomly scattered with staggering, brain dead ZOMBIES!
There must have been 30 or 40 of them.
Blue hair, vacant looks, and bad polyester clothes. Aimlessly hobbling in slow, unpredictable directions.
Meanwhile, I'm just sitting there.
After all, I didn't want to startle her or anything.
I ordered my #2 (shitburger with fries and cola) and continued around the building where I found the source of this Evil.
It was the Zombie Express Tour Bus.
As cautiously as I had entered, I wove through the herd of pastel polyester and made my way out. (laughing)
That's when the Blue Haired Leaf Peepers invade Maine.
It is their mission to watch the leaves fall off of the trees.
It was on one of these colorful days that I went down into the village and encountered...
" Dawn of the Almost Dead"
(insert scary music here)
I pulled my truck into the local "Gas n' Shit",
a combination filling station and fast food establishment, and what I saw next was ...
Beyond Reality!
The entire paved area surrounding the Gas n' Shit, was randomly scattered with staggering, brain dead ZOMBIES!
There must have been 30 or 40 of them.
Blue hair, vacant looks, and bad polyester clothes. Aimlessly hobbling in slow, unpredictable directions.
Carefully, I navigated through the zombies towards the rear of the building, where the drive-thru is located.
Standing in front of the "Shit Burger" menu board, was a woman that could have been a stand-in for Gumby. (only not as flexible)
Her skinny frame wobbled back and forth as she took long drags off of a cigarette that was cradled in her stiff, straight fingers.
Her gaze was directed at a point that was neither in space nor at the menu that she was facing. She most definitely was not focused in my direction.
Slowly I approached the menu.
Thats when, suddenly...She Saw Me!
The look on her face could not have been more extreme had I been 2 feet from hitting her at 70 mph!
Standing in front of the "Shit Burger" menu board, was a woman that could have been a stand-in for Gumby. (only not as flexible)
Her skinny frame wobbled back and forth as she took long drags off of a cigarette that was cradled in her stiff, straight fingers.
Her gaze was directed at a point that was neither in space nor at the menu that she was facing. She most definitely was not focused in my direction.
Slowly I approached the menu.
Thats when, suddenly...She Saw Me!
The look on her face could not have been more extreme had I been 2 feet from hitting her at 70 mph!
Her eyes bulged and her mouth flew open.
She dropped her cigarette, her body tried to dash towards the building as her head tried to flee to the opposite direction. Then like a slinky, they met in the middle and headed in opposite directions again. After trying to run three directions at the same time without leaving the starting point, she finally managed to jump out of the way and into the parking lot.
Narrowly escaping the jaws of certain death!
She dropped her cigarette, her body tried to dash towards the building as her head tried to flee to the opposite direction. Then like a slinky, they met in the middle and headed in opposite directions again. After trying to run three directions at the same time without leaving the starting point, she finally managed to jump out of the way and into the parking lot.
Narrowly escaping the jaws of certain death!
Meanwhile, I'm just sitting there.
After all, I didn't want to startle her or anything.
I ordered my #2 (shitburger with fries and cola) and continued around the building where I found the source of this Evil.
It was the Zombie Express Tour Bus.
As cautiously as I had entered, I wove through the herd of pastel polyester and made my way out. (laughing)
Yeah, I'm a survivor.
You can't let your guard down.
Not for a minute.
You never know what you'll encounter.
Not here.
Not on Planet Dandy.
You can't let your guard down.
Not for a minute.
You never know what you'll encounter.
Not here.
Not on Planet Dandy.
I Wish I Had Said That (vol:1)
Babble babble bitch bitch
Rebel rebel party party
Sex sex sex and don't forget the "violence"
Blah blah blah got your lovey-dovey-sad-and-lonely
Stick your STUPID SLOGAN in:
Everybody sing along.
"This is the New Shit"(Marilyn Manson)
Wednesday, November 17, 2004
South of Heaven
I didn't get lost going to Portland last night!
Actually, I learned that there are two parallel highways that go to Portland.
The "Good 95", and the "Evil 95".
The "Good 95", goes right next to Portland , and it is not unlike seeing the Emerald City at the end of the Yellow Brick Road.
There are, in fact, lights in this city. You can't miss it!
The "Evil 95", makes you give sacrifices of pieces of silver about every 10 miles, and ultimately, sends you off thru a dark haunted forrest that renders your compasses useless, and forbids you from seeing the lights of the city.
Ironically,
it was the "Good 95", that led me to the Emerald City, last night, to see SLAYER in concert... Again!
They kicked my ass!
My ears stopped bleeding this morning, and the ringing stopped sometime this afternoon.
I only slept 4 hours, and then worked a 9 hour day.
Still, it was a beautiful thing!
Actually, I learned that there are two parallel highways that go to Portland.
The "Good 95", and the "Evil 95".
The "Good 95", goes right next to Portland , and it is not unlike seeing the Emerald City at the end of the Yellow Brick Road.
There are, in fact, lights in this city. You can't miss it!
The "Evil 95", makes you give sacrifices of pieces of silver about every 10 miles, and ultimately, sends you off thru a dark haunted forrest that renders your compasses useless, and forbids you from seeing the lights of the city.
Ironically,
it was the "Good 95", that led me to the Emerald City, last night, to see SLAYER in concert... Again!
They kicked my ass!
My ears stopped bleeding this morning, and the ringing stopped sometime this afternoon.
I only slept 4 hours, and then worked a 9 hour day.
Still, it was a beautiful thing!
Tomorrow I rest.
Tonight, I party.
North of Portland.
South of Heaven!
Being me?
It don't suck!
Being me?
It don't suck!
Sunday, November 14, 2004
I'm Tweeking
Wow, I just aquired the power of the Hyperlink.
This puts a whole new spin on my Blog-Art.
Therefore, with my new found power, I have started tweeking my Blogs.
I will continue to tweek my blogs.
If you think you have read my Blogs...Think again.
They may have been tweeked!
I'm a tweek freak!
Shit!
Gotta go, my cat is watching me!
This puts a whole new spin on my Blog-Art.
Therefore, with my new found power, I have started tweeking my Blogs.
I will continue to tweek my blogs.
If you think you have read my Blogs...Think again.
They may have been tweeked!
I'm a tweek freak!
Shit!
Gotta go, my cat is watching me!
Saturday, November 13, 2004
OVER 200 SERVED
Wow, have you seen the dandy little count-o-meter way down at the bottom of the front page of this site?
I wish I had thought to collect a dollar at the door.
I would have had a 2 months supply of beer money by now!
Oh well, because I like you, help yourself to my worthless insights at no charge.
They are calorie free, and 100% natural.
Well...they're calorie free, anyway.
Would you like to Super Size that?
I wish I had thought to collect a dollar at the door.
I would have had a 2 months supply of beer money by now!
Oh well, because I like you, help yourself to my worthless insights at no charge.
They are calorie free, and 100% natural.
Well...they're calorie free, anyway.
Would you like to Super Size that?
Thursday, November 11, 2004
LOSER
Right, Check this...
What if you had been rude to someone that ended up being famous, rich, and popular, years later?
Like, you were in school, and they asked you to join their band, but they were the dorks that other people laughed at.
And, even though you didn't dislike them,
you just didn't want to be associated with them.
So, you just blew them off, and they ended up being cool rich famous dorks, and you're still just an everyday dork.
Now, every time that you see a picture of them in a magazine or on a web site, you get all sick to your stomach, because you know that you BLEW IT!
It could have been you!
If only you could have not cared what other people thought.
Well...
I always knew that that could happen.
So, I was always nice to everyone!
Just in case.
Because, you never know!
Well...
Years later...
Here I am,
and none of them, amounted to SHIT!
All of that time I wasted being nice to all those LOSERS,
and what did I get out of them?
Nothing, Nada, Zilch!
Of course...
Please understand.
I'm not talking about YOU.
Or anyone that would be reading THIS.
It's all those other losers.
What if you had been rude to someone that ended up being famous, rich, and popular, years later?
Like, you were in school, and they asked you to join their band, but they were the dorks that other people laughed at.
And, even though you didn't dislike them,
you just didn't want to be associated with them.
So, you just blew them off, and they ended up being cool rich famous dorks, and you're still just an everyday dork.
Now, every time that you see a picture of them in a magazine or on a web site, you get all sick to your stomach, because you know that you BLEW IT!
It could have been you!
If only you could have not cared what other people thought.
Well...
I always knew that that could happen.
So, I was always nice to everyone!
Just in case.
Because, you never know!
Well...
Years later...
Here I am,
and none of them, amounted to SHIT!
All of that time I wasted being nice to all those LOSERS,
and what did I get out of them?
Nothing, Nada, Zilch!
Of course...
Please understand.
I'm not talking about YOU.
Or anyone that would be reading THIS.
Because...
You're Cool!
It's all those other losers.
Wednesday, November 10, 2004
That One Thing
This is only a test.
I have nothing to write about.
It is late.
It is twenty degrees outside.
My cat is sprawled out on the floor.
Next to the wood stove.
Here in my kitchen.
Next to me.
As I type this.
The radio is playing trance music.
I am enjoying my beer.
(Magic Hat "Blind Faith", I.P.A.)
The candles are burning.
Ambiance.
Atmosphere.
Peace.
There is nothing that could make me feel any more content with my world right now.
Almost nothing.
Almost nothing.
The music is hypnotic.
The fire is comforting.
My cat is my muse.
I am happy.
But for one thing.
If I had that one thing.
Just one thing.
Tonight.
...yeah.
I have nothing to write about.
It is late.
It is twenty degrees outside.
My cat is sprawled out on the floor.
Next to the wood stove.
Here in my kitchen.
Next to me.
As I type this.
The radio is playing trance music.
I am enjoying my beer.
(Magic Hat "Blind Faith", I.P.A.)
The candles are burning.
Ambiance.
Atmosphere.
Peace.
There is nothing that could make me feel any more content with my world right now.
Almost nothing.
Almost nothing.
The music is hypnotic.
The fire is comforting.
My cat is my muse.
I am happy.
But for one thing.
If I had that one thing.
Just one thing.
Tonight.
...yeah.
Monday, November 08, 2004
Still Reigning
This weekend was delightfully dark.
The weather was cold and overcast. Ideal conditions for my vampyric nature. I decided to catch up on a video game that I started about a year ago.
It has been difficult to muster up any interest in my games since last spring, when I moved into the castle.
Being on top of the mountain, there is a constant exposure to the sun.
It was easier when I lived in the cave, half way down the mountain.
It was always dark.
I will , however, welcome the warming solar rays when the temps drop down to 20 degrees, but except for that, the light annoys me.
I finished the video game. Killed the bad guy and saved the world.
Planet Dandy is safe from evil once more... Almost.
Enter SLAYER, demonic rock band.
They filmed their performance, which I attended, in Augusta Maine, this last summer.
Having been there, I couldn't wait to get the DVD and was happy to see my tortured face in the crowd down front.
I will now live forever in the annals of Rock n'Roll history.
I have tickets to see them again next week.
Yeah, I'll be down front!
One quirky observation of mine about SLAYER.
Their last album was called, "God Hates Us All", and that was released on 9-11-2001. (yes, that very day)
The new DVD, Reign in Blood, LIVE. "Still Reigning", was released on 11-2-2004. Election Day!
Still Reigning?
Get it?
(Four more years of Evil?)
I don't think I can fight "that" evil with my video games...
but playing them...
may help me forget.
The weather was cold and overcast. Ideal conditions for my vampyric nature. I decided to catch up on a video game that I started about a year ago.
It has been difficult to muster up any interest in my games since last spring, when I moved into the castle.
Being on top of the mountain, there is a constant exposure to the sun.
It was easier when I lived in the cave, half way down the mountain.
It was always dark.
I will , however, welcome the warming solar rays when the temps drop down to 20 degrees, but except for that, the light annoys me.
I finished the video game. Killed the bad guy and saved the world.
Planet Dandy is safe from evil once more... Almost.
Enter SLAYER, demonic rock band.
They filmed their performance, which I attended, in Augusta Maine, this last summer.
Having been there, I couldn't wait to get the DVD and was happy to see my tortured face in the crowd down front.
I will now live forever in the annals of Rock n'Roll history.
I have tickets to see them again next week.
Yeah, I'll be down front!
One quirky observation of mine about SLAYER.
Their last album was called, "God Hates Us All", and that was released on 9-11-2001. (yes, that very day)
The new DVD, Reign in Blood, LIVE. "Still Reigning", was released on 11-2-2004. Election Day!
Still Reigning?
Get it?
(Four more years of Evil?)
I don't think I can fight "that" evil with my video games...
but playing them...
may help me forget.
Wednesday, November 03, 2004
Fatso Pussycat, Kill Kill
My cat is staring at me.
I am casually enjoying my evening at home,
but my cat is staring at me.
I have a comfortable home. It's a cozy castle heated by fire.
I don't work tomorrow, so I am enjoying a few cocktails tonight.
And, she stares at me!
Sitting in my lazy-boy recliner is my fat little Cayo.
She always gets the good seat.
I would sit on the floor before I would make her move.
She knows that.
And still, she stares.
Intimidating me.
Waiting for me to fuck up.
But, I am her primary care provider.
My wood stove is blazing, the outside temp is plummeting, and even tho she is sprawled out luxuriously in a cozy nest of blankets in MY lazy-boy, she stares at me.
"What!?"
"Jesus! "
"What!?"
She is waiting for me to pass out. I know it!
You should see the size of the mice she brings home to eat in front of me. She is working herself up to something bigger...
O.K. I may be paranoid, but...
Well, I really can't talk now.
She suspects something.
She is staring at me.
I am here for her.
Do YOU have a cat?
or...Does a cat... have YOU?
Sunday, October 31, 2004
GWAR AM I ?
A friend and I went to a GWAR concert last night in Portland Maine.
On the way, I some how passed the city and got lost. I do that every now and then. At least going to Portland, I do.
They should install a bright light there so it looks like a city or something. One mile out of the way, and you're in the woods again with no point of reference.
Having been thru this before, I jumped on the first exit available.
On previous trips to the dark city, I found the exits to be scarce when you need them, and taking an exit doesn't necessarily tell you where you are.
My sense of direction failed me, and not wanting to drive for half an hour in the wrong direction (again), I stopped at the first open business I saw. One lonely pizza shop on a dark neighborhood street.
I pulled my truck up to the front door and could plainly see an elderly woman, alone in the store, watching us walk in. In an effort to keep it polite and simple, I said, "I am lost, Which way is it to downtown Portland?" This woman looks at me and says,"Which way are you going?"In a split second, my quick wit supplied me with several sarcastic answers. Among them, "The WRONG" way, obviously!"Looking over my shoulder to the front door, then back at the nice lady gave me the time to quell any such comments and simply say, "Whichever way you tell me to go, dear."Pointing, she says, "Go that way till you come to a traffic light, turn left, and it will take you straight to downtown Portland."My buddy asks her if she has a bathroom.She says, "no." We say, "thanks."Two blocks after the left turn at the traffic light, we came to a "T" in the road and had to choose left or right."Straight to Portland, My Ass!"We decided that she probably DID have a bathroom!We chose left, and made it to the concert.The GWAR show defies description. It falls somewhere between "Kill Bill volume one", and "Dead Alive"(final scene).Non stop blood and multicolored bodily fluids pumped and sprayed at the audience full force, for an hour and a half.When the show was over, Every inch of our skin was wicked-witch green, with streaks of red and blotches of blue.Stopping for gas on the way home proved fun as well.(Remember, we're in Maine.)This time, it's was an elderly man, running the gas station alone in the middle of nowhere at 1:00 am. He has a curious stare as we walk in. I attempt humor with, "So, You get many colored folks around here?"No response.Oh, well.We had fun.In retrospect...It doesn't really matter where you are going. Getting there can be half of the fun.It's all good...on Planet Dandy!
On the way, I some how passed the city and got lost. I do that every now and then. At least going to Portland, I do.
They should install a bright light there so it looks like a city or something. One mile out of the way, and you're in the woods again with no point of reference.
Having been thru this before, I jumped on the first exit available.
On previous trips to the dark city, I found the exits to be scarce when you need them, and taking an exit doesn't necessarily tell you where you are.
My sense of direction failed me, and not wanting to drive for half an hour in the wrong direction (again), I stopped at the first open business I saw. One lonely pizza shop on a dark neighborhood street.
I pulled my truck up to the front door and could plainly see an elderly woman, alone in the store, watching us walk in. In an effort to keep it polite and simple, I said, "I am lost, Which way is it to downtown Portland?" This woman looks at me and says,"Which way are you going?"In a split second, my quick wit supplied me with several sarcastic answers. Among them, "The WRONG" way, obviously!"Looking over my shoulder to the front door, then back at the nice lady gave me the time to quell any such comments and simply say, "Whichever way you tell me to go, dear."Pointing, she says, "Go that way till you come to a traffic light, turn left, and it will take you straight to downtown Portland."My buddy asks her if she has a bathroom.She says, "no." We say, "thanks."Two blocks after the left turn at the traffic light, we came to a "T" in the road and had to choose left or right."Straight to Portland, My Ass!"We decided that she probably DID have a bathroom!We chose left, and made it to the concert.The GWAR show defies description. It falls somewhere between "Kill Bill volume one", and "Dead Alive"(final scene).Non stop blood and multicolored bodily fluids pumped and sprayed at the audience full force, for an hour and a half.When the show was over, Every inch of our skin was wicked-witch green, with streaks of red and blotches of blue.Stopping for gas on the way home proved fun as well.(Remember, we're in Maine.)This time, it's was an elderly man, running the gas station alone in the middle of nowhere at 1:00 am. He has a curious stare as we walk in. I attempt humor with, "So, You get many colored folks around here?"No response.Oh, well.We had fun.In retrospect...It doesn't really matter where you are going. Getting there can be half of the fun.It's all good...on Planet Dandy!
Friday, October 29, 2004
Tijuana Taxi Ride
Crossing the border into Mexico is simple. Just walk thru the turnstile, and you're there.
Getting to Tijuana (T.J.) from the border, requires a taxi.
This is fun.
My first time, as with most things, was the most memorable.
December 1989.
There were five of us. Three of us shared an apartment in San Diego (I had just moved in, from Michigan) .The other two were down from L.A.
We walked thru the turnstile. "Yay, we're in Mexico", then, after wading thru the children selling Chicklets, we met our cabbies.
All of them holding their Cabbie I.D.'s up as they bid for our fares.
"How many of you?"
"Five of us."
"$4.00 each"
another one bids...
"$3.00 each"
We hesitate, then another driver bids "$2.00 each" and ushers us towards his taxi.
"Sweet, Tijuana for two bucks!"
We didn't even care that when we got to the taxi, it already had four people waiting in it, ha! That made ten people in the cab including the driver.
But then came the ride.
Forget that every one was on someone else's lap, and they were probably on someone else's lap as well. But, instead, think that this cab driver wants to get to T.J. and back as quickly as possible so he can fill his taxi (and wallet) with another nine or ten of Americas finest young partiers.
Just use your imagination on this next part.
Picture us, zig-zagging thru traffic at high speeds. Imagine our simultaneous screams. The kind of screams you hear from a roller coaster as it creeps over the summit and starts it's downward plummet towards a curve in the track.
"Whoooooooooooooaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaashit!"
What a wild ride. Mr Toad had nothing on us!
We were dumped on some street corner in front of what I suspect was probably the drivers cousins cantina where we would meet his sister (a virgin). That is only my speculation, hehe, and we never met his sister. I don't think, anyway.
So...
Getting to Tijuana (T.J.) from the border, requires a taxi.
This is fun.
My first time, as with most things, was the most memorable.
December 1989.
There were five of us. Three of us shared an apartment in San Diego (I had just moved in, from Michigan) .The other two were down from L.A.
We walked thru the turnstile. "Yay, we're in Mexico", then, after wading thru the children selling Chicklets, we met our cabbies.
All of them holding their Cabbie I.D.'s up as they bid for our fares.
"How many of you?"
"Five of us."
"$4.00 each"
another one bids...
"$3.00 each"
We hesitate, then another driver bids "$2.00 each" and ushers us towards his taxi.
"Sweet, Tijuana for two bucks!"
We didn't even care that when we got to the taxi, it already had four people waiting in it, ha! That made ten people in the cab including the driver.
But then came the ride.
Forget that every one was on someone else's lap, and they were probably on someone else's lap as well. But, instead, think that this cab driver wants to get to T.J. and back as quickly as possible so he can fill his taxi (and wallet) with another nine or ten of Americas finest young partiers.
Just use your imagination on this next part.
Picture us, zig-zagging thru traffic at high speeds. Imagine our simultaneous screams. The kind of screams you hear from a roller coaster as it creeps over the summit and starts it's downward plummet towards a curve in the track.
"Whoooooooooooooaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaashit!"
What a wild ride. Mr Toad had nothing on us!
We were dumped on some street corner in front of what I suspect was probably the drivers cousins cantina where we would meet his sister (a virgin). That is only my speculation, hehe, and we never met his sister. I don't think, anyway.
So...
If you ever hear some crazy story about a Tijuana Taxi?
Just believe it!
And, you know what else?
And, you know what else?
We never even told him where we wanted to go, but I'm pretty sure we got there.
Getting home after a night of cheap tequila shots and beer?
Getting home after a night of cheap tequila shots and beer?
hmmm...
That was another adventure!
That was another adventure!
Sunday, October 24, 2004
Send Post Cards & W-Tips to...
PLANET DANDY WORLD HEADQUARTERS
P.O.BOX 945
BELFAST, MAINE, 04915
U.S.A.
P.O.BOX 945
BELFAST, MAINE, 04915
U.S.A.
W-TIPS
I was trying to think of a profound revelation that I could share. Something to make you think . Or, at least make you believe that I can think.
Nothing.
I guess you can't rush something like that, and have it be real. So, let me tell you what happened to me last night. At least maybe you can think I'm cool.
About 10 years ago, on Mtv, there was this show called "Squirt TV". It was hosted by this funny, 15 year old kid named Jake. The show also featured Frankie, another kid, as a regular .
Every show had the coolest guests. Every one from Kevin Smith, to Beck , Liz Phair, and the Beastie Boys. (even Gilbert Godfried)
Anyway, I got a kick out of it!
On one show he showed off this box of W-Tips. "They are just like Q-Tips, except, they're W-Tips." I still laugh when I think about it, lately that's been a lot.
So I went on this mission to find me some W-Tips. Nothing, Nowhere. Not even on e-Bay.
I did some searching around the internet and I find some contact info for Jake, who is now 25.
So, I e-mailed him last night, (not knowing if it would ever get read). Briefly telling him of my quest for the Holy W-Tips.
And he answered me!
Now this guy, lives in New York City, is active in radio, television, theater, writing, and hob-nobs with all the coolest people on the planet, and on a Saturday night in New York City...Jake, e-mails ME!
On top of that he tells me he forwarded my letter to Frankie, as well.
I'm feeling pretty special about right now.
I mean, last year I met SLAYER.
Last month I met Alice Cooper
And last night?
An E-mail from Jake!!!
Well, the only thing that's left right now is to find them damned W-Tips.
Am I cool yet?
Nothing.
I guess you can't rush something like that, and have it be real. So, let me tell you what happened to me last night. At least maybe you can think I'm cool.
About 10 years ago, on Mtv, there was this show called "Squirt TV". It was hosted by this funny, 15 year old kid named Jake. The show also featured Frankie, another kid, as a regular .
Every show had the coolest guests. Every one from Kevin Smith, to Beck , Liz Phair, and the Beastie Boys. (even Gilbert Godfried)
Anyway, I got a kick out of it!
On one show he showed off this box of W-Tips. "They are just like Q-Tips, except, they're W-Tips." I still laugh when I think about it, lately that's been a lot.
So I went on this mission to find me some W-Tips. Nothing, Nowhere. Not even on e-Bay.
I did some searching around the internet and I find some contact info for Jake, who is now 25.
So, I e-mailed him last night, (not knowing if it would ever get read). Briefly telling him of my quest for the Holy W-Tips.
And he answered me!
Now this guy, lives in New York City, is active in radio, television, theater, writing, and hob-nobs with all the coolest people on the planet, and on a Saturday night in New York City...Jake, e-mails ME!
On top of that he tells me he forwarded my letter to Frankie, as well.
I'm feeling pretty special about right now.
I mean, last year I met SLAYER.
Last month I met Alice Cooper
And last night?
An E-mail from Jake!!!
Well, the only thing that's left right now is to find them damned W-Tips.
Am I cool yet?
Saturday, October 23, 2004
129 DAYS LATER
There were many days of my existence that could easily compete for the title of "The Best Day of My Life." Maybe , I will explore some of them at another time. For now, the day that comes to mind, is the day that I saw NIRVANA.
Not so much the actual seeing of NIRVANA, as the the events of that day. It was November 27, 1993. I was living in Key West, Florida. A perfectly beautiful day. The show was to take place in Miami and the friend I would travel with drove a topless Jeep. How cool is that! Now, to get to Miami, the only way by "land" is to take Route 1, also known as the longest dead end road in the America. It spans from Key west, to the Canadian border in Maine. But from Key West to the Florida mainland is about 100 miles of bridge known as the Overseas Highway. On this stretch of road is the Marathon Bridge. It was blown up in the movie "True Lies", staring Arnold Schwartzeneger and Jamie Lee Curtis. This big scene, featuring a harrier Jet, delivery trucks and explosions, was to be filmed on location on this very day. Now, this meant that anyone wanting to travel north to the mainland, would have to do it before 10 a.m., as the bridge would be closed for most of the day. Whatever, fine with me. I'm going to see NIRVANA .
We seen the Jet parked at the edge of Marathon Island, as well as cameras and trucks and military personnel. (think of me during the bridge scene if you ever see "True Lies", I was there.)
What a beautiful ride. Warm, sunny, the wind blowing thru my long hair, and not a care in the world. My favorite feeling is to not have to hurry or worry. Nothing but blue sky above me, and blue water as far as the eye can see in either direction. Bouncing from island to island like some cosmic connect the dots game. We listened to a lot of NIRVANA, and arriving in Miami so early in the day, we were able to explore record shops, an outdoor mall on the waterfront, and the Hard Rock Cafe. It has a giant green Gibson Stratocaster on the roof that slowly rotates. It could also be seen from the amphitheater next door where the show was to be held. Later during the concert, people would be throwing frizbees on the stage and Kurt Cobain would say, "Instead of throwing things up on stage, why don't you go next door and throw rocks at that stupid fucking guitar!"
They put on an awesome show that night, and did a fair amount of damage to the stage props and equipment, as would be expected from the best "grunge" band in the world. I bought one of every NIRVANA concert shirt that was available that night, and was especially happy I did when the ride home proved to be less than warm. In fact, it was down right cold. Living in Key West can spoil you. You forget that it gets cold in other places, like driving across the ocean at night. I still have the shirts, and the seven mile bridge is still there. It was a perfect day.
I totally worshiped NIRVANA at the time.( and probably still would, but I'm a little bit between deities at the moment.) If I could live any day over again, this would probably be the day that I would choose. It was NIRVANA in Paradise.
129 days later, Kurt was dead.
Friday, October 22, 2004
I, MONSTER
I was sitting here watching a horror movie a few nights ago. (You know the type. Where some lost travelers make a wrong turn, and the unseen local psycho gets them, one by one.) Then , I found myself looking over my shoulder a couple times in response to the surround sound on my entertainment system.
Now... I know... that there is no one behind me.
I live in the middle of the woods, on a mountain-top, at the end of a dead end road, and I can plainly see if anyone is even remotely near.
Still...
I jump at the heavy breathing of "I'm gonna get you."
hehe,
at this point I laugh to my self when I realize, hey, the middle of the woods? The end of a long dead end road? The middle of nowhere on a dark night?
If there IS anyone out there, THEY are the ones that should be scared!
...I ...am at home
... I... AM the MONSTER!
... "I ...am going to get ...YOU!"
Now... I know... that there is no one behind me.
I live in the middle of the woods, on a mountain-top, at the end of a dead end road, and I can plainly see if anyone is even remotely near.
Still...
I jump at the heavy breathing of "I'm gonna get you."
hehe,
at this point I laugh to my self when I realize, hey, the middle of the woods? The end of a long dead end road? The middle of nowhere on a dark night?
If there IS anyone out there, THEY are the ones that should be scared!
...I ...am at home
... I... AM the MONSTER!
... "I ...am going to get ...YOU!"
Thursday, October 21, 2004
Kiss My Aura, Dora
I wonder how big an aura is.
Wouldn't it be cool if we could see our auras, and they emanated one or two feet around our bodies. Maybe only in special light. Like a black light.
Imagine everyone's auras glowing at a party. An orgy of light.
What if the color of your aura reflected your mood, and when your aura overlapped with someone else's, they would join and become a pulsating rainbow.
Of course, your auras would need to be compatible or nothing would happen.
Now throw in a physical feeling, like an orgasm, when that compatible aura met yours. That would take safe sex to a whole new level.
O.K., this is silly.
But seriously, folks! Haven't you ever felt your whole body tingle and hum, just being near somebody?
Any... Body?
I have.
Hmmm...
It's Real Angora!
Wednesday, October 20, 2004
TERRITORIAL PISSINGS
As I look around my castle, I notice that many of my possessions are adorned with stickers.
I just realized that they are my territorial pissings.
Objects that I've always had, and always will have, are meticulously decorated with stickers (mostly of a rock n roll theme) and have been dubbed ...Rock n Roll Trunk, Rock n Roll Stools, Rock n Roll Blender, etc... They keep me safe.
Whenever I relocate, they are around me, and I know that I am at home.
My pissing is done tastefully, and I never waste a sticker on something like a stereo component, or doors and walls. Those things are temporary objects in my life. They will die or I will leave them, and a good sticker will be with me forever.
I like my stickers, they are memories.
I also save special stickers by putting them on magnets. Now I can have a Rock n Roll Refridgerator where ever I go.
They keep me safe. I will always treasure my stickers.
I will always be safe.
Safe in my castle.
My Rock n Roll Castle,
here,
on Planet Dandy.
I just realized that they are my territorial pissings.
Objects that I've always had, and always will have, are meticulously decorated with stickers (mostly of a rock n roll theme) and have been dubbed ...Rock n Roll Trunk, Rock n Roll Stools, Rock n Roll Blender, etc... They keep me safe.
Whenever I relocate, they are around me, and I know that I am at home.
My pissing is done tastefully, and I never waste a sticker on something like a stereo component, or doors and walls. Those things are temporary objects in my life. They will die or I will leave them, and a good sticker will be with me forever.
I like my stickers, they are memories.
I also save special stickers by putting them on magnets. Now I can have a Rock n Roll Refridgerator where ever I go.
They keep me safe. I will always treasure my stickers.
I will always be safe.
Safe in my castle.
My Rock n Roll Castle,
here,
on Planet Dandy.
Wednesday, October 13, 2004
ORANGES PORNGES
Well, I wasn't planning on starting a blog tonight, but one thing leads to another when surfing the high seas of the net, so I'm throwing this thing in the water to see how it floats. I really don't even know why I need a blog. Maybe it's like a diary. We will see. Stay tuned, and, Who says, "there ain't no rhyme for oranges!" Welcome to my Planet.
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