Okay, put on yer seatbelts...

(Update @ 12:30pm... If ya already read this before right now, read it again. I fixed some stuff and added a coupla things...)
Dis gonna be a wild ride, here. Got a lot of disparate subjects to cover.
Before that, though, lemme say a quick "thanks" to Dwight Yoakam for that word. Disparate. He used it once in an interview for some stupid country music mag and the idiot interviewing him didn't know the word and one, argued with him about it and two, copped a snotty attitude in the piece about it, so it stuck. I don't particularly like him much anymore, but Dwight was right.

Aaaanyway.... First thing is John Capelletti. Two things, which are either a really cool coincidence or spammers are learning English....

Got an email yesterday from his and Joey's nephew. He just said "Hi" and that he's using John's speech (from the Heisman Award dinner) in one of his classes, which he wishes John could see, but John lives in California.

Then, I got an email from a person named Lory Fabian, who says they have an envelope to forward to John and that they worked for the Chargers while John was there. Has an NFL flavored e-dress, too. (I say "they" because I'm not sure if "Lory" is a guys name or if it's just another way to spell "Lori", as in a chick..)

Now, I'd love to help this person, but I, personally, don't have John's e-dress and what if it's an envelope fulla something "not good"? Like, anthrax or something? Anybody familiar with that name? Anybody have John's e-dress? Anybody think this may be spammers?

Next up: Mary Miller, Roger's wife, wrote back to me again. Said she can't get through Dean's singing "Little Toy Trains", either, seeing her little one, Adam, crying... Such a nice woman. I hope she puts that song in the juke box.

Next is Dad... *starts to giggle*
Got a buncha comments from him. First, let's do Claude. Had no idea. You're right, I'd try to beat his ass if I found dead, trapped animals and they were his traps. At the very least, I'd do what I do to any traps I ever find, which includes mangling them and throwing them as far as I can from where they were left. I don't take them away with me, because I want the asshole to find them, but I also want it to be a huge pain right in his ass, too. Up a tree is their usual destination...
See, what I knew about Claude was the "poor guy" version, I guess. I was even told that while he was "escaped" from custody, people there (in Idaho, where he was hiding, I assume) were helping him remain free. Added to the "hero" image in my (fried) mind.
What he really sounds like is a mountain version of Ken Rex McElroy. This guy was a bastard who lived, and terrorized counties fulla people, in Missouri. In 1981, the townspeople had a huge meeting with local law enforcement to find out what the hell could be done about this guy. He'd been rustling livestock, shooting people, committing arson... just being a total prick for years. He'd been convicted of some assault charge and was waiting, not quietly either, to be sentenced and he knew he was facing jail. Well, Ken McElroy was NOT gonna go to jail for nuttin or nobody. Pfft.
So, he instead kept up his horseshit and even went into town the day of that meeting.
Meanwhile, the townspeople are learning, once again, ain't a fuckin' thing the law is gonna do about Ken, so when he showed up, the meeting broke up, the Sheriff left town and very shortly thereafter, Ken was dead in his pickup, brain matter on the dashboard.
No one was ever convicted of his murder.
Oh fuckin' well....
There was a book written and a movie made about this. They're both called "In Broad Daylight". Ever get a chance, check 'em out.

If Claude was as bad as alla that, maybe Idaho could take a lesson. I don't care what this dude did to property or people, but just for the dead, trapped animals, he needs to be peeled, dunked in a huge vat of rubbing alcohol and left to live to feel it.

Still, it's pretty weird to find out someone I know of got OUT of jail. Just think about that for a second and giggle, okay? But, it is true. Ya ain't gonna surprise me by telling me someone I know or just "know of" went to jail, but getting out is a novelty.

About the Roger Miller site... I KNOW!!! Isn't it cool as all hell? I'm just sorry I didn't tell ya about it when I first found it. It was while I was still working for that jerkoff with the dairy farm over in Jersey. You know who I mean...

Now, about the Eagles....
(First off, please note that I'm no longer callin' 'em the Iggles, even though that IS how Mommie-Dearest said that word, so it COULD be indigenous to me and not just me having been a Dallas fan/snot, okay?)

(Ed. note... In "previewing" this, it's occured to me that I'd better explain now that I do, at some point, stop "speaking" to Dad and go on to Eagles "fans" in general...)

Hard-core Philly fans are.... ridiculous. I mean the ones who live in South Philly and won't be acting right for the next six months. The ones who were all "WE'RE goin' to da SuperBowl..", who are now saying, "Those fuckin' dillholes. THEY lost da SuperBowl."
Pathetic.
That's also two-faced, fickle, childish and annoying.

Case in point... Monday morning, Eric was watching the news (for the weather) and happened to see a live report from the Melrose Diner, in South Philly. "Everybody who knows, goes to Mel-rose..." Normally, this place is worse than where I work for having lines of people waiting to be seated. It's standard for this to be going on at the Melrose pretty much the entire time they're open. However, Monday morning, during this live report, there was not ONE soul in there.
No customers.
Just waitresses and cooks.
Jesus, ya know?

The Eagles won the Division Championship (wasn't it?) and they also played a great game, with a screamingly close and constantly flip-flopping score and yet, they come home to a buncha sour-faced, pissed off people. Hell, even the NUT with the huge, plastic, inflated Eagle in his front yard down the road deflated it. Sore loser.
All those South Philly Guidos are sore losers.

Here's a truth, from a Dallas fan even.... the Eagles deserveD (ain't gunna happen) a parade. They shoulda got one. They did GREAT, damn it. Out of all the "fans" I've talked to in the last coupla days, and there's been an ASSload of them, lem'me tell ya, only about three said anything even remotely nice about the Eagles. It's fuckin' stupid, the way people are behaving.

First of all, it's just another football game, okay? One more, in a looooong series of games. Second, did youse South Philly people happen to catch that word "game" back there? That's all it is, is a GAME. It's nothing to commit suicide, quit yer job or beat your wives over, for fuck's sake.
No kicking of small animals, driving like pissed off jerkweeds, being nasty and all around shitty attitudes, either.
("Colors", drugs and guns are okay, though...) (Wouldn't wanna take away the rest of what makes life worth living, now would I? Sheesh...)

Get.
Over.
It.

Do NOT treat the Eagles players like Nam Vets, okay? Please?
And, fer the love of GAWD... quit dicking ME on tips just because NE won. What? Ya's think I had something to do with that? Ya's think I was there, in the game, fuckin' the Eagles up every step of the way?
Well, I wasn't.
So, gimme a break, will ya's?
God.

Hell man, if I had had anything to do with it, it woulda been Dallas vs. the Eagles to start with. Know what I'm saying? Dallas was out of it and, for the most part, therefore so was I. Except I got drug into it and now look atcha's. A got-damned Dallas fan knows better how to treat YOUR TEAM than youse do.
Sad, ain'tchas?

If you South Philly nimrods can't be proud and supportive of the Eagles, then I'm pretty sure they'd tell ya to just piss off. So... so am I. If youse people can't be nice about 'em, just shut up. I'm sick of it already.

The Eagles don't suck (that much). They made it farther than they have in 25 years and besides, I'd like to see any of you fat, unhealthy eatin', outta shape armchair Quarterbacks go do better. Y'all seem to know so in depth every wrong move the Eagels made, y'all are still whining about time, running, not running, fumbling and general shitty playing.

Go do it better or shut the fuck up.

Or, better still, switch to a team that does go to the Bowl on a regular basis, like Dallas. I'm sure the Eagles won't miss your "fair weathered" asses.
I know I won't.

One thing though... you switch to Dallas, you had BEST keep your mouth shut around me if they ain't perfect. I'll letcha live runnin' the Eagles down (though I do reserve the right to think badly of you for doing it), but ya run Dallas down, I will stomp yer ass with my steeltoed work boots.
Got that?
Good.
Whiny buncha overweight sore loser wanna-be jocks.

Here's an additional little tip for "youse guys"... If your entire sense of manliness, self-worth and the will to live is based on a football team, you reeeeally need professional help.
Know what I'm sayin'?
Believe me, a lost SuperBowl is the LEAST of your "problems", Dudes.

That said, let me also make it clear that I haven't "switched" my own self, by way of tellin' ya's about yesterday at work... Briefly (HA!), for the first time ever, I had a customer wearing a Dallas hat.
In public.
And... he didn't have a knife stickin' out of his head, or a buncha people hangin' offa him, gnawing on his limbs or beating his ass.
I walked up to the table with my standard "Wouldja's like coffee?", quickly followed by "oooh, I love yer hat!". He blushed and giggled (an adult man, even) and then I made him laugh out loud when I said, "Isn't it fun to see just how purple you can make some people get, just by mentioning Dallas?", with a giggle....
The guy with him just sat there, his mouth getting smaller and smaller, as if he'd been using Preperation H as a lip balm, or maybe had ingested some alum.
Typical Eagles fan...
*gigglin' now, too*

Also, speaking of work, I was almost ZZ Top when I went in yesterday. I had new pants and a new tie. Could NOT get that song "Sharp Dressed Man" outta my head. Except when Roger Miller showed up, singing "Little Toy Trains" and trying to make me freak out about my cat... again.

Yeah, Dad... I told ya. I wore that jersey and still no Norman. I knew it. Damn it. I still haven't seen him and I've even gotten on the horse here recently and rode around looking. Gotta admit, it was more like a "recovery" mission, in my heart, than a "search and rescue". Then, yesterday morning, before work, I just fuckin' lost it. In the bathroom, reading George Carlin and suddenly, I'm gone. Over the edge, bawlin' my brains out over Norman. I think my heart finally accepted that he's not coming back and I just want God to get me over it, make it hurt less, now. I've quit begging Him to bring him home. I finally remembered that, usually, when He STEALS one of my critters, it's because He has another one somewhere that needs me, so I promised to wander around outside today and be "available" for the new one. All I asked is that He make it hurt less. Which he did, as long as I can keep Roger quiet up there.
I've been forcing myself to think-sing "LowRider" a LOT in the last 24 hours. That one and "Up in Smoke".
Then, some chick at work got a goddamned Sesame Street ditty stuck in my mind for a while yesterday, too. She's always doin' that shit with weird songs. Yesterday, it didn't drive me as nutso, because it helped keep Roger quiet.
Still... Sesame Street?
Gawd....

Who are the people in my neighborhood? Hmmmm... a buncha angry Eagles (sorry-assed excuse for) fans, mostly. Oh Gawd... here comes that stupid song again.
Thanks, Bev.

Oh and Dad... speaking of work and to maybe make up for my Dallasness, I oughta tell ya while I'm thinking of it (and don't tell Kim, she'd only hate me more for this)... I've got another one of the women I work with in love with yer ass. I've been telling her your jokes (Jose-A and Jose-B and that one about "coming on to the chick across the bar") and what ya look like and how ya are and she keeps saying "oooh, I loooove your Dad..." She's cute, too. Tiny little thing, about my age (she likes Led Zepplin, fer cryin' out loud), a redheaded dynamo. Really cool lady. Just wanted to letcha know... you have FANS.

Now, is that everything? Can I go to the "library", finally?
Hmmmm...
*thinking*

Well, I guess it bears mentioining that I made the Mean Cook say "fuck" twice in one sentence Monday, but we're still cool. He smiled at me, later the same day, so.... It was stupid. I said "home", he heard "french" as in "fries" and I understand why he got pissed, even. He had to go out of his way to make HIS MISTAKE as it was breakfast time and there weren't fries just waiting to be used.
No biggie. (The mistake or "fuck"....) I don't hate 'im for it or anything. Didn't even piss me off when it happened. I think that's why he smiled at me later. I took it.
Whatever works, ya know?

Now, I'm off to the library before Eric comes back in here, headin' for the same place....
Which reminds me... he tried to kill me earlier. Little shit farted in the kitchen and I, dumbass that I am, stood up a few minutes later, right into the funk cloud.
JEEEEZUS!!!!
I could frickin' TASTE that bad boy.
Hadda light seven incense to kill it.
Maaaan. How something as cute as his ass is could produce SUCH biological warfare weapons is beyond me. Many more like that one, my fuckin' name is gonna be beyond me, too.
Wheeee-ew.

On that note (think "foghorn"), I'm outta here.
Back later, I'm sure.
(As long, that is, as Eric keeps them thangs outside.)

Peace
(Or at least "clean air"...)

Posted by: Stevie at 06:50 AM

Comments

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