December 30, 2003
Which do ya's want first?
The good news or the bad news?
Ah, hell. I'm a 'bad news first' kinda broad, so here goes. I was walking out to get in George's truck to go to the store. I stepped on a stick that I didn't see that was about the size and shape of a Cuban cigar. Next thing I knew, I was looking like I was doing that mime shit 'walking down some steps', staggering about and WHAM! Right onto my LEFT WRIST (Ow ya very much) and my right knee. I'm just glad I didn't land in dog poop.By the time I left the store, it had become quite obvious that I wrenched my back a little and now I also have a headache. Siiiigh. BUT!!! My webcam works now, so I'm sitting here watching my cat sleep with it. The cat is sleeping on the back of the computer in the first place. However, with the camera, I don't hafta crane my neck to see him. Faaaabulous. My knee hurts. I'm gonna go try a shower now. If I'm not back soon, I suppose that means I've drowned or something. It could happen. Believe me. Peace.
Posted by: Stevie at 07:50 PM | Comments (40) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
People....
I don't know how to fix the 'ctrlpan.dll' thing. I've gotten more searches for that then you'd even believe. I wish I had an answer, but I don't....yet. If I ever do, I'll either post it or send ya's to the guy I think may know how to fix it. Let's just see if we can get it fixed first.
On to other news...I think my entire left arm is gonna fall off. First, I have one of those little bump things that show up periodically and make it painful to move yer wrist from side to side or lift shit. Some kinda cyst, I think. Whatever. I have one now and it's harsh. This damn thing is more sensitive to weight and direction than usual and when I hurt it, I feel it in my bicep, fer fuck sake. And, the outside of my left shoulder feels sorta like there could be a steak knife shoved in it. Other than that....sigh. A philosophical-type question:If a man is walking alone in a forest and he's talking, but a woman is not there to hear him, is he still wrong?
Just wondering.... The idiotic porn thing replaced my favorites again. My Pusser Club is lookin' better ever' minnit. For the first time in what feels like weeks, I've read almost my whole blogroll. I'm pretty much up to "P". I need to do some pruning in there. Got a few, like Mad Mikey's Blog that go to nothing. Refresh all ya want...still nada. I'm not gonna do anything drastic until I'm certain it's not just this stupid computer, though. God knows it could be. And, speaking of "P's"....I'm gonna hafta get Dudley Doo-right of the RCMP to locate Paul, I think. I'd link him, but I've already sent ya to his December 15th post about 42 times so far. Almost as many times as I've seen it myself. I'm not pickin' on him, either...I'm just sayin' is all. His little Yahoo IM smiley has been asleep for days. At what point does it become a coma? I do know CPR...just sayin'! Oh yeah, I almost forgot the last 'news' item...My goofiest cat, Spider, has a new thing he likes to do. I just found this out right before I started this post. He now seems to enjoy sitting on the top of the backrest of this chair and being spun around.
I can absolutely understand this. I used to like to do it, too, in my dispatch chair at one of the PD's I worked at...til the night a cop came in the back way and caught me. I was doin' about 65 mph, too. When I saw him flash by for about the 12th time, I was finally able to stop and he just shook his head and laughed. I did that Fred Flintstone-shrink-to-about-4-inches thing. (And, I wondered why my Sarge called me Sara after the goofy blonde on "Too Close for Comfort".)
(These were the same cops as the 'handcuffs and pepperspray' story as well as the same dorks who tried to get me with that Mike Hunt shit from Porky's. One of 'em did get me with the fire dispatch radio, that turd. I liked him a lot. He died, poor guy. Cancer.) Anyway...more on that later...IF I don't just blow this poor pooter up. Or delete the enire Internet...a distinct possibility if I don't find Paul soon... Gotta go to the store. I'll be around...
Peace.
Posted by: Stevie at 06:25 PM | Comments (42) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
December 29, 2003
No, I haven't bashed the computer....
...yet.
This thing is making me....avoid it. I may have actually made a difference today, though. I deleted the shit from the....from....hell. I hit start, then 'find' and went from there.I had to re-boot....and it didn't seem to come back this time. No porn-filled favorites, for once.
I wish I could find out who originated this thing. The things I'd do to that individual...my God. I also can't get the webcam to work. Of course. Still lookin' fer Paul, too. Ain't been on here much, but when I am, I check and nuthin' yet. S'okay, though. I need to re-group before I try anything too in-depth, anyhow. In the meantime....I'm around. Not doing much, because it's not taking much to fry my temper with this thing.
Been goin' to bed at a 'normal' time, too. That's what's making it so hard to connect with Paul, too. He's used to me being on 'bat hours'. I'm just starting to switch back. I'm getting there. Hope everybody is doing good. So, what are we gonna do for New Years? I, myself, want to be writing right through that time, so when I finish the post, I can say I oughta stop, seeing how I've been writing that particular post since the previous year....Or something to that effect. (Maybe I could use that premise elsewhere...naked...with Eric. Hmmm....that sounds like a plan to me...)
Posted by: Stevie at 10:27 PM | Comments (43) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
December 27, 2003
I am (f-in') crazy...
As if I had a question about that?
Right.
This is just one a those things I can't really do a damned thing about, so the more I keep myself unaware of it, the better, I guess. My (utterly insane) reaction today has got me wondering, though. My attitude about a coupla things has done a 180 on me and I don't know if I understand it or not. For instance, it's usually only poachers that would piss me off like that. Not hunters. But, since my goat disappeared shortly after the first of them showed up (of which the pigeon-pickin' off peckerhead was first), I seem to have had a major, negative attitude adjustment toward the whole deal. (I'd like to nominate that last sentence for "understatement of the year for 2004", okay?) Then, there's this porn ordeal. Now, I grew up reading Playboy. I've been reading Hustler since I was in my mid-to-late teens, I guess. I like Larry Flynt. I love Hugh Hefner. He looks exactly like my Dad's Dad. My two rabbits are named Hugh and Hefner. I've never really had any problem with that stuff, up to and including Hustler, like I said. But, this stupid porn (!#$&@*!) thing that keeps replacing the three favorites I keep putting back and barfing out the same shit in the links thing has got me hating porn now.
Not that I'm gonna go throw out my Playboys and Hustlers. Oh, hell no. But, I'd do whatever it took to get that bullshit off the Net, though. I mean, Jesus...this is some of the saddest, most pathetic, ridiculous shit. Everytime I have to see the names of those links I'm deleting, it makes my scalp feel like it's shrinking, the way snakes do to some people. Is this growing up, growing old or growing tired of the bullshit?
I can't really tell. I think I may have figured out something else, though. With a chemical imbalance, it seems like what the chemical that's missing supplies is control. That's what I'm sorely lacking, more every day. And, it's what Patty Duke was lacking, too. Self-control. I want that. But, I don't want to take medication just so I'll think everything that's actually bullshit is just peachy-keen. I like that I know bullshit when I see it. I'd just like to not hafta see it once in a while. Or, maybe, just be able to...shrug it off?...let it go?...get the hell over it? Yeah...that one, I suppose.
Whichever. Anyhow...I'm going to bed now. I'll get into all the info you guys have sent about de-buggin' this daggone thing when I get up.
Posted by: Stevie at 11:39 PM | Comments (46) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
Criminy, it's nice out...
I just went and got two more bottles of Tequila Rose (on sale for $15.00). I was wearing my Wellacrest coat. I got back and went out without it to take Eric his Cope (long cut) in the parlor and it really is gorgeous out. No coat, just a T-shirt and I feel fine.
Of course, having Tequila Rose in me as anti-freeze may have something to do with it, I dunno.
Anyway, I'm taping an "All in the Family" marathon offa either one of the Nick at Nites or TVLand and I'm going outside now. Finally.
Still...what I said earlier stands.
Now, at least, I'm sure...
I shall return (yet again).
Peace.
Posted by: Stevie at 04:00 PM | Comments (47) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
Hello....
Tequila Rose is sooo good. I just switched straight from coffee to tequila. It was after 12:00pm. (But, it wasn't 1:00pm, yet...hehehe.)
I went to bed around 5:00am, after detailing to Paul the crap this thing is putting me through, then I got up around 10:00am, to find out that the estupid dawgs had opened and spread a package of noodle shit all over the livingroom and broke a vase I just got from Kim's brother Mike, what?...two days ago? Jesus. (lmao, now)
Eric had already cleaned up the mess, so I just accepted the info and went on. Went on singing the Beatles 1 CD. Which made me think of something I saw on TV the other day. It's some tribute thing to George Harrison. Real nice, buuut...excuse me. There would have been no Beatles (hence no George Harrison's solo career) in the first place if not for John, so where's the 'tribute' to him?
See, Mad Bill? This is yet another reason why Lennon is...so much more important to me, personally.
Anyway, I had already decided on a course of action for today. I am going outside, 'Assholes With Guns', or not. I'm going out there, around the fields and maybe even into the woods, if something compells me to. If I get shot, they better kill me, 'cause if they don't, I'll own 'em. If they do kill me, oh well. I have no anger right now, nor a death wish, but I truely do not care. Just make it a clean shot, ya fuckin' losers.
I ain't wearing that ugly ass, does ya no good anyway orange, either.
Tastes like it, anyway. John Lennon is (still) an unmatched genius. Tequila Rose is good.
Remember this.
Carve it on my tombstone if I do get shot. (Jeez. I just had a thought. I wonder if I don't care about getting shot, because if it was good enough for John, it'd be good enough for me, too? Hmm. Feels about right. That's weird.)
Ah, fuck it. So am I. I love you guys. (And, no this is not the Tequila talkin'. It's me.) I was listening to "Help" earlier and there's a few lines in it that made me think of y'all. I may post the lyrics later and highlight the ones I mean, okay? In the meantime, just know that you guys are my final knot. Even when there's nothing left to knot and no strength to tie it if there were, you guys are it. Thank you all. I (hope I) shall return.
Peace.
Posted by: Stevie at 01:19 PM | Comments (45) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
Well, I'll be...
Holy shiT.
I'm really not the only one.
"Do you feeel like I do?" Sweet Jesus, yes. She does feel like I do.
But, my God-she says it sooo much more eloquently than I do.
Posted by: Stevie at 02:56 AM | Comments (44) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
I don't get it...
I have no idea, really, what it is that is wrong with this (expletives deleted) computer. I have to re-get rid of that stupid porn bug. I forgot, actually didn't know to, to clean out the bookmarks thing, as well as the favorites and links and crap. So, it happened again.
On top of which, this computer has ALWAYS thrown up this warning about "A required .DLL file, PASPI.DLL was not found". We just close it and go on with nary a problem. Well, now it also throws up another warning that says something about the 'C:\\WINDOWS\SYSTEM\ctrlpan.dll' having a problem. I forget exactly what it says and I have to shut it down to get it to get it to show up again, which I'm gonna do shortly, after I email Paul. (I will hopefully be right back on, though...)
If I don't get this solved real quick, here, I don't know exactly WHAT I'm gonna do. I've already been picturing the "Delete Blog" button on the main page. I don't really want to do that, but if this computer is screwed, I may as well do it, because I will go nuts for real having to fix it every 7 seconds. I'm looking to expell frustration from my life, not add to it, ya know?
Oh yeah, this thing is also making me sign on differently now. It started a new thing earlier tonight...something about the server, I think. Whatever it was, when you clicked on it, it took you to a second screen thing with three choices in it; Earthlink, AOHell and some other thing. I told Eric to click 'okay' because it already had Earthlink highlighted. I then left for the store. I thought it was just a one-time thing. Apparently, it wasn't, because instead of getting online like I usually do, it's giving me a sign-on box that I have to type my Earthlink password into, which works, except that it keeps threatening to boot me offline unless I click on 'stay connected' and there are now two little green blinking computers in my icon tray, which were never there before.
I hope I can get this thing straightened out because I need to have a way to deal with this 'anger issue' of mine, besides throwing shit and screaming alot. The ridiculous, petty little shit that sets me off is sooo stupid, so nothing, yet I erupt like a volcano. This computer, the dog, the bathroom door (which is now fixed, thank God Himself)...retarded crap like that makes me just want to push my 'self-destruct button'...if I had one. Alrighty then...off to see what's what and do what I can til I can find Paul, I guess.
Pray for me, please.
Peace
Posted by: Stevie at 12:55 AM | Comments (46) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
December 26, 2003
Anybody want a dog?
I will not keep a lowlife, cocksuckin', stupid fuckin' dog like this one. He's gone.
Fuck him, in all his ball-less glory.
Fuck you, Ziggy. Yer outta here, ya asshole. Fuck you til ya die.
I left the livingroom and him, still yelling, and he stayed put. Good for him. The other three dogs came into the other room with me, he stayed. He got left there to stew, til a few minutes ago. (The other three dogs still being the only ones out here got to me...I admit it.) So, I went into the livingroom, where he had moved to the couch. He was laying there, lookin' all pitiful and he wagged the last inch of his tail at me, like..."Sorry Mom, ya don't REALLY hate me now, do ya?" Which was just what I needed to see. I stood there looking at him, trying not to smile (much) and sat on the coffee table and we had a (civilised) little talk, at the beginning of which, he licked my nose. Now, how am I supposed to stay properly pissed when he's doin' that? Dumb dog. I explained to him that taking off like that is BAD and that he is NEVER to do it again. Uh-huh. Riiiight. (Rolling eyes...me, not him.) (He's here right now, begging to have his big old hairy ass scratched...sigh.) Anyhow, it's over now. No dead dog, no gone dog, no stroke for me....yet. I swear, though. First the computer is fried and I get that partially fixed, then the dog wants to mind-fuck me by running off and making me want to kill his ass and now, thank God, that's also fixed. I'd ask what the fucks next, but I ain't stupid. Plus, I DON'T WANNA KNOW. This is exactly the kind of superfluous, unnecessary shit I hate having to deal with. What's it called again?
Oh yeah....Being alive.
Such fun. I'mina go put on my new nightgown that Eric got for me, watch cartoons, play with my Play-Doh and maybe even color. (Yes, I have about a half a ton of crayons and a few books, why?) I am taking this day off from being an adult, seeing as how I've only been awake for three hours and I've wanted to committ murder about 20 times, so far. Just seems like a good idea, ya know? Psst...anybody gets near any candles, can ya light one for me, please?
Posted by: Stevie at 07:10 AM | Comments (43) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
I'm not a Gemini, but....
I do feel two ways about the shit in the next post...
I got out some of the vitriol I feel toward hackers, spammers and assholes in there, but...
Posted by: Stevie at 06:54 AM | Comments (42) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
Unbelieveable...
While I was at Dad's yesterday, some fuckin' fungus-brain got into this computer and screwed it all up.
Oh sure, it changed the homepage shit from Yahoo to their 'pay-per-click' shit and all that fun, but what really frosts my flakes is it erased my goddamn favorites list...which included my way to get here. And, my blog page and all the cool shit I've found on here. Fuckin' asswipe jerkoffs replaced it with their porn shit.
Then, I got up (again...sigh...lol), came back here, ran Adaware AGAIN, selected everything it found and deleted it ALL. Then, I found that list in there again and really got rid of it. Then, I hadda delete every damn one of their favorites and links and yes, I did empty the recycle bin and re-boot. About three times. Still couldn't for the life of me, remember the URL to get here. Can't get into the comments at Munu, either...'Cannot find server'....aw, fuck you, then. Oh, Gawd...I don't have the email from Pixy from September anymore, either...now where the FUCK did that go...Hmmm. "Shit's gotta be here somewhere", Paul says in my head. "Go back into yer mail"...so I did. Open one of his comments, clicked on the link to MY comments, shortened the address to end "cgi.mt" and....TA-fuckin-DA!!!! Found it. Thank you, Paul....Many Java kisses and no burning rubber smell to ya all day long, Hero-of-mine. So, I still have no farkin' idea how to recover all those favorites things and I'd REALLY like to find a way to make it impossible for PEOPLE to look up porn on here. It's fuckin' pathetic and sad AND it fucks ever'thing all up. (And, it wasn't Eric, either. He was with me....) I just want to disable that particular feature somehow, up to and including personally murdering the purveyors of such filth (and I'm referring to the 'extras', not the porn itself....) with my bare hands, if that's what I have to do. I am officially sick of this shit, now.
Fuck with my blog....you die. I get that back, but still don't have my favorites, you get beat to within an inch of death and left to feel it and suffer. Fuckin' assholes. Oh...and my way to never lose this URL again? PEN AND PAPER!!! I wrote it down. Erase that, you imbecilic wastes of sperm.
Another deeeeeep breath... Okay. It's time to ask this now...What is this 'backup' shit I keep reading about? George (aka "Mr. Helpful") said "Once ya get all yer shit back (HA!), stick one a those disc's in there and put all yer shit on there."
Me: "Oh, cool. How?"
Him: "I dunno...."
Me: SIGH... So....I still need to know about this whole deal. What's 'backup'? How do ya do it? How often do ya do it? What good is it? Can ya just put yer shit back when some 'less-than-piece-of-human-shit' arbitrarily replaces yer stuff with their crap? What kinda discs? I need this broken down like a REMEDIAL shotgun. No such thing as 'too simple', here, except for me. I'm definitely too simple...ask anybody. They'll tell ya.
All I wanna do with thing is blog, IM cool people like Paul and Mad Bill and play the silly little flash games I find on here. I don't do porn or that sorta stupid shit, yet I'm the one who keeps having to 'pay' for it alla time. I have to fix, correct, find, replace, obliterate and try not to have a stroke in the process. No more. If anybody knows a way to completely block access to porn, please let me know. I have had exactly enough of this crap.
That's the biggest thing I wanna do. Then, I need to learn about this 'backing stuff up' stuff. IS THERE ANYTHING ELSE I SHOULD ALREADY KNOW, by the way? Maintenence? Saving shit for real? Anything at all? (Yes...tons. But, tell me anyway...sigh)
Oh yeah...one other thing...after I ran Adaware the first time, it seemed to have disable my Earthlink Pop up Blocker. It's still here and says it's still on, but it's not working like it used to...or at all, actually. That, and the little calander page thing that showed the date in the icon tray down there on the right is now gone. How do I restore these things? If I can only have one, I want my Pop up Blocker back NOW. I have the idea that IF I had been able to restore that in the first place, this latest shit woulda never happened. (That's because of what I was told happened when everything went to hell, which is too long and complicated for me to even want to try to explain...Pop ups flying in from every direction..tons of 'em. It was crazy.)
Anyhow...help. (Please? I can tweeze a nose hair and go from 'annoyed' to 'leaky', if I have to...lol.) Update: Went to make a minor correction and found that, yet AGAIN, 'trackback' and pinging not working. My response to that? Pound sand, then go piss up a flagpole, ya fuckin' stupid thing. Ping this...(Both middle fingers flying...)
Posted by: Stevie at 06:32 AM | Comments (46) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
December 24, 2003
Frohe Weihnachten....
I wanted to do this at, like, 12:01 a.m., but I'm still cleaning and doing other miscellaneous stuff and I'm afraid I'll forget.
So, here it is now...in German, no less. Thank you everybody who reads this stuff that I write and especially those of you who take the time to say a few words or even aim a few well placed kicks in the ass. This is my first Christmas blogging and I can see that blogging has made a difference in me....this year it ain't so bad. (lol) You guys are the best gifts I've gotten in a while. Peace to ya and I hope everybody has a good, easy day. (Fade out to the holiday sounds of....) "Grandma got run over by a reindeer.Comin' home from our house Christmas Eve.
You can say there's no such thing as Santa,
But, as for me and Grandpa, we believe..."
Posted by: Stevie at 10:53 PM | Comments (47) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
I'm lost....
Like that's news, right?
Poking around in Site Meter, I found this.
20
(I replaced the numbers myself, they were there.) Anyhow, I saw that, clicked on it and it took me to Gut Rumbles. How did someone get from that search to me? That's what I wanna know. How odd.
Anybody understand this process?
Posted by: Stevie at 03:57 PM | Comments (46) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
December 23, 2003
Okay...I like this...
Thank you, LeeAnn.
Posted by: Stevie at 06:12 PM | Comments (49) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
I am sooo 'busted'...
I get within squinting distance of the computer for the first time in days, sit down and start to IM with Paul about "Oh-ho, so you ARE still alive" and an email (all comments left here also get emailed to my Yahoo account) comes through from Dad. I pop over to it to see if it's about what we're doing about Christmas and it ain't. It's about bustin' me on my 'animal humanitarian efforts' (i.e.-my animal induced insanity) and he never mentioned Christmas....there's probably a message on my cell phone, another thing I haven't been dealing with lately.
Ladies and Gentlemen, with no further ado (or explanations about why I am like I am)...My Dad: (much 'golf-clapping' ensues) "Now,I don't want you folks believing all the rumors Crossfire spreads about me. I mostly went to the mail box in my underwear after dark. And I think it's much better than going out in only one's boots. Besides, I don't think she ever saw me do this since we kept her locked in a cellarwhich had no windows. (It was her or the elephant, and the neighbors didn't complain about the elephant.) If she wants to tell stories, we have several
possum ones. I've been working shift work for 42
years now, so I have different sleep patterns than
most folks. Several years ago, I awoke around two in the afternoon, and went into the bathroom
to pee. As I was peeing, I heard hissing noises(?)
I looked under the tank of the toilet and there was a large possum expressing his displeasure that I was violating his space! Hmm, thinks I.
Wonder why there's a possum in my bathroom. I notice that room service seems to have brougt him some carrots and a piece of celery. Aha! This is
Daun's possum! I finished peeing and carefully closed the bathroom door so our new guest wouldn't
wander out and scare the cat. (You may ask why
I wasn't particularlly excited to find a possum in my bathroom. Well, I'm Daun's father, and this
wasn't an unusual occurance.) Another time I was in the front yard,(clothed,
a seemingly rare experience) and saw Daun riding
her horse toward home, followed by her dog and
goat. (The goat never knew she wasn't a dog, and
went everywhere the gang went.) I noticed Daun
had her right arm held rigidly to the side, but of course thought nothing of it, since I was Daun's father. As she neared the yard I saw that the arm carried a possum with his tail wrapped around her wrist. Hmm. "Watcha doin' with a possum,there?" I said calmly, being rather used to such things. "These guy caught this possum in a leg-hold trap,(I then noticed Herr possum had
part of a front leg missing.) and I made them give it to me because they were going to kill her. Did I say her? Am I such a naturalist I can
determine the sex of a possum from twenty feet?
Nah. The possum had a baby or two clinging to her. They lived in a cage in our house until
the Possum Blue Cross determined they were sufficiently cured go back to nature and earn a decent living. BTW, if any of you ever find yourself being a Possumnurse (the government's
official name for this career), possums love hotdogs more than anything. If anyone from Oscar
Mayer would need a handsome older gentleman to star in a commercial with a (somewhat drugged,
thus lethargic possum,) I am certainly available
for a modest fee. The fee being something somewhat more spendable than free hotdogs... These are only some possum stories. We have many stories of dogs being rescued by my intrepid
daughter (often within yards of their domicile),
cat stories, wounded bird stories. If we were around several million years old I would be able to relate several wounded dinosaur stories. She once rescued a dog from the hospital parking lot, carried him home, called the dog
catcher to find the owner from the number on the dog's collar, and found the dog's owner was also the wealthy owner of a local carpet plant in the
county. She returned the dog to his joyful master,
who promised to carpet our floors for free as a reward for finding said pooch. Mr Campbell's house was next door to the hospital, and the dog had been about seventeen feet from his own yard when she shanghied him. (We didn't tell Mr Campbell that, and fortunately the dog didn't squeal.) There are dozens of similar stories of Daun's
life before she became an accomplished and articulate late-night writer. (Hmm, it's 0400,
and I'm in the lab banging this out. I wonder where she gets this typing at all times habit..?) Well, I have a few more samples to run, so I'll
stop the Daun stories for now. At least until the
next scantily clad father reference. I have many more stories that she does, although only about
50% of them are relatable to anyone under 35....." See? My Dad is crazy...just like I said in the first place. And...so am I. Obviously. Now, it just so happens that, like I also said, I'm not here totally alone...Paul's online, too. He just read this (the original comment) and said and I quote from the IM box: TBT: that's a farkin' scream....
TBT: now I see where ya gets it
TBT: the man needs a blog of his own....
TBT: and to think there are people out there terrified of their parents/families discovering their blog..."
(Bold script is mine...) Dad...you should do one of these, too. If not like I do, then with all the Pop-pop, Daun, Norman the 3rd stories and stuff from when you were growing up. God knows it'll last closer to forever that way. Besides, I already outed Uncle Jim for being the 'peep'-er that time...lmao. AND, Paul is from Canada, so that's people from two different countries that vote 'yes' Norman should have a blog...anyone else think so? I take it yer at work...cool. I'll give ya a holler there, before ya get done. Love you, Dad!
Posted by: Stevie at 04:22 AM | Comments (45) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
December 21, 2003
Hi, y'all...
FUBAR wiring. That's how to blow a fuse in the house by starting a car. Especially a car that's not been run since it was towed home from Virginia where it decided to throw a rod...I started to capitalize rod, because of Rod, Eric's brother, whom I would rather have had the Firebird try to throw if it just haaad to throw one. (A rod...get it?) Wouldn't cost as much to fix, if it had. Plus, I'd finally get to meet him, probably, because it would be my Firebird trying to throw him...and...uummm. Nevermind.
Like I was saying, Eric had it on the charger, which was plugged into some kind electrical plug that George did out in the carport, near the over head bulb wire. I think it runs off the electricity out there as opposed to being hooked into the house, however....when Eric started the poor (fucked UP) sounding thing, it blew a fuse that I was hooked to, as were parts of the kitchen and George's room.
Onlyest thing I know 'bout 'lectricity is to let it the fuck alone. I do not like being shocked. I feel electric goddamn fences either in my tailbone or elbow (as if Someone is trying to show me the difference between my ass and my elbow over and over) when I touch those evil things and they're bad enough, thanks. I also managed to shock the shit outta myself touching spark plug wires once when my truck was running. Ow, ow, owowow. Man, I threw that fuckin' wrench. I was pissed. I don't even wanna think about what 220 would feel like, so I don't fuck with it.
My Dad, however, used to go into the flooded basement in his house in Mannington Twp, wearing rubber boots, walking in up to about 8 inches of water, over to the electric panel and start hitting circuit breakers if need be.
My Dad is crazy. He also used to go alla way out the driveway of that house, probably a standard length driveway, across the street and would get the mail...in his tighty-whiteys and black, shin high, rounded-toe cowboy boots. Six foot tall, longish blonde hair, thinning on top, beard, moustach and glasses..he bears a remarkable resemblence to Rob Reiner these days...in his underwear and boots getting the mail. Ten to one, had anyone he knew stopped out there, he'd have been standing there half the day talking.
Here we go.... Dad was here (along with my brother) on Tuesday. While he was here, he said that they all want us all (including Eric Jr. IF he decides to show up-which is a whole nother post that I do need to get to before I...do something politically incorrect) to come to their house for Christmas. To the point that Dad'll pick us up if we need him to. I didn't really think about it at first, just figgered we'd go in George's current truck which appears as if it's direct kin to the Clampett's truck. Now, I ain't pickin' on it...much. It used to belong to Wally...(rolls eyes), Lord knows I've driven worse and it's a helluva lot better than having to walk to Redners (the grocery store). But, the only thought I had was that this truck'll put my old Ford pickup with the loud exhaust and the deer antlers wired to the grill right into perspective. I felt weird enough going to Dad's in that truck. This was gonna be a trip. (The neighborhood Dad lives in now, the houses look like those estates used to on Colombo. And, thankfully, his mailbox is right near the house...lol.) But, just a few minutes (hours by now) ago, I happened to realize that there ain't no way four people, or even three, are gonna fit in that truck AND get all the way to my Dad's and back without getting stopped for being so fulla people. Any cop'll know there's no seltbelt usage happening, for starts and let's just end that right there.
I truly don't expect Dad to leave Kim with all kinds shit to do to come get us...especially if the roads are bad. Especially especially when, if he picks us up, he's gonna hafta either bring us all back...or keep us. All of which is just too much. Holidays are a pain enough in the ass as it is without adding this kinda aggravation. Besides, if anything happened to Dad, or whomever came for us, I'd...I'd never get over something like that. I blame myself for shit that's not my fault and that would be.
However...if my stupid, fuse blowin' Firebird was running, we'd be fine. See?
No? Okay...dead Firebird lead to the bad wiring, which lead to my not exactly understanding the electircal setup out there because I hate eletricity, which my Dad doesn't 'cause he's nuts, so nuts in fact he thinks tighty-whiteys and boots is 'dressed' which reminded me that he said he'd come get us for Christmas and that George's truck is not the ideal idea, yet it could also be a huge pain for Dad, which wouldn't have to be happening at all if the Firebird had thrown Rod (Eric's brother) instead of a rod, which is a complete ass ache. And, that, my friends is called segue-ing. To the nth degree, I might add. At approximately 106.5 miles an hour which is what my brain does pretty much 24/7, when it's not considering the delicious destruction of a few specific assnuggets, the loss of which would make the world a much nicer place.
Fun, huh? You betcha. I gotta go string lights now.
While I'm doing that, I'll be singing one of my faaaavorite Christmas carols, the lyrics of which are: "Woof, woof, woof...
Woof, woof, woof,
Woof, woof, BARK, woof, woof..." (Yes, it was a good batch this time...why?)
Posted by: Stevie at 01:38 AM | Comments (47) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
December 20, 2003
Hello...
I started to post yesterday morning, but Eric started my Firebird and blew a fuse, which was the one for the computer, so I said 'Screw this....sigh."
Sounds nuts, huh? Swear ta God, it's true.
I honestly can't decide if I should just go on and explain that, or see what you guys can come up with as to how that could happen....hmmmm. If you read me a lot, you may be able to put it together, but if I gave any hints, it'd probably just give it away. I'll give it a while. See what you guys think happened.
In the meantime, I was going to post yesterday a question about good outweighing bad, free will seeming like an excuse and John Lennon's bedroom.
They were so busy trying to make Yoko look like a legitimate artist and excuse Chapman's actions that they failed to mention a coupla things....like:
Yoko fired John's bodyguard a week or so before he was shot. She also mouthed off to some stupid music magazine about the album John was working on, telling in detail the schedule of when he was there and the route to and from the Dakota. Mr. Putz...oops, I mean Mintz, also failed to mention how he was living at the Dakota before John was even cold.
They also failed to mention that Yoko loves John sooo much (gaaaa *shudders*) that she has his ashes-John did NOT want to be cremated, btw...-under a bed in the Dakota. Sick fuck. God, that one pissed me off. That kinda shit right there is why I go outta my way to...hmmm, how to put this...stick up for?...explain?...remember?...revere?...however ya wanna put it, it's part of why I feel as strongly about John as I do. People just don't get it. Who he was, why he was like he was, what he was really up against...Hell, he didn't even get it completely himself. But, he was always trying to figure it out. And, he didn't deserve what was done to him and he also doesn't deserve to have this kind of self-serving, incorrect bullshit disseminated with his name on it. They shoulda named that piece of crap "The Ballad of Mark and Yoko". That would've been more accurate, because that's all it was about. Whew...sorry. I get a little...vehement...when it comes to the few things I believe in. If you think I get 'wordy' about him, you don't even want to get me going on Viet Nam Vets and what they've been put through....since they've been home. The ones who made it home, that is. Must. Resist. Urge. Must. Put. Up. (Stupid). Tree. Can't. Get. Into. This. Now. Deeeep breath.... Okay. I'm outta here for a bit. If you have any ideas about how Eric starting my car could possibly result in my computer shutting off, I'd love to hear 'em. It'll give me an idea, in a roundabout way, of just how nutso I've led y'all to believe I am...lol.
Posted by: Stevie at 04:44 PM | Comments (51) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
December 18, 2003
Man...
Ain't nobody touchin' that 'God' post....lmao.
Posted by: Stevie at 08:49 PM | Comments (46) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
The 'system'...
I think I may have stumbled onto an idea of how to 'fix' our silly excuse for a court system in this country. It wouldn't cost a cent, or change anything, except one thing.
Keep it all anonymous. No more being able to see the (poor little, attractive) victim and no being able to see the (mean looking or famous) defendant. Keep it cold and factual...factual, what a concept, huh?Have your lawyers, the jury, the judge...keep all that shit, if ya want to, but nobody gets anything more than paperwork. No people, pictures or videos. No wailing family members, or railroaded defendants looking pissed and having that used as an affirmation of "he musta done it". If nobody knew what Michael Jackson looked like, or who it was about when his case comes up, if that jury had to decide this case on facts and paperwork type shit alone, he probably wouldn't be convicted.
Do ya think that if, maybe, that jury in L.A. had only paperwork and cold hard facts to go on, that OJ woulda walked? I doubt it, even though I'm one of the few (assholes, idiots...whatever. Bite me.) who aren't convinced he did it. I don't have my doubts because he's OJ. I don't give a rats ass about OJ. I'm not convinced because of the shitty job they did investigating the thing and because of that lying fuck, Furhman. (And, if I spelled that jerks name wrong, I really don't care. 'Fuckhead' would suffice.) Anyway, we get the emotion out of our courts, we may get more justice. Cases should be decided on facts alone, not appearances, hystrionics, emotion and horseshit, like they are now.
Posted by: Stevie at 04:19 PM | Comments (44) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
An idea (or two) about God...
(Don't take this Personal, Big Guy.)
I've been thinking about God. Whoo-boy, the things I been thinkin'....lol.But really, I think I mighta figured something out.
People are always asking how God can let bad shit happen and why he doesn't fix it, posthaste. I think I might know why...He can't. He made the universe, but maybe He has no control over the events that occur here. Maybe His only option is to end it. He can either let it live, or kill it, but He can't really control it anymore, if He ever could.
I'd like to believe this. Because, if not, then God is just nutso. If He does, indeed, control the events that occur, then that would mean He damned well knew that Jesus would die the horrible death that he did and that He let it happen for the utterly insane reason that He loves humans. Excuse me? Yeah.
Okay.
Why don't one of us kill someone for an equally retarded reason, like say because we like animals and traipse into court with that defense. "Yes, Your Honor. I did have/let my Aunt Sophie be murdered because I want all the animals for the rest of enternity to know that I love them." Pfft. Yer ass would be locked up quicker'n you could blink. And, don't hand me that "He's God and we're not" shit, either. He got the same writers as Chevy Chase, now?
We're made in His image, which is supposed to mean (I think) that we're like Him and He's like us. If that's the case, I hope He has no control over this shit, or He's just psycho, like we'd be, if we did this stuff. The idea that He has no more control over this mess than we do is somehow comforting. That's about the only way I've found so far to believe it's not personal.
Posted by: Stevie at 04:04 PM | Comments (52) | Add Comment | Trackbacks (Suck)
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