I read novels the old fashioned way: words printed on paper, paper bound together with glue and stuff, all this printed paper makes something called a "BOOK". I spend, probably, three, maybe four months reading and digesting my "BOOKS". I don't read them every day, because most days I'm occupying my valuable "free time" investigating real estate opportunities (we all know how well that is working out these days), catching up on world and local events via the internet, watching the news on the tube or most recently going to the world famous "Golds Gym" getting buff and chiseled.
Today I had a bit of free time to devout to my newest selection "CADILLAC BEACH" a true example of American classical literature by a pure linguist, poetic laureate, Tom Dorsey. A man in the same genre of Irving, Hemmingway, Stephen King. In the past three weeks, I have made it all the way to page 65 of 375 pages. Not bad for me, 65 divided by 21 = about 3 pages per day.
Unfortunately, the intervals between reading sessions is so great that most of the time I have to re-read the past several pages to remember what it was that I was reading about.
As I was saying, today I sat down at about three in the afternoon to get some serious pages under my belt. I intended to put a mucho grande dent in that paperback. I just finished re-reading the last four or five pages, got refreshed, and was about to embark on my journey into new novel territory. The hissing sound started. This unbelievable loud, earsplitting, head pounding hisssssssssiiiiing penetrating the inner sanctum of my new beach pad .
The hideous infernal contraption responsible for this audacious audible nightmare resembles some kind of morphed out metal dinosaur spewing dirt and sand and noise, unbearable noise, through a giant python sized rubber hose aimed at a decrepit, falling down, rotten, termite infested Marina Del Rey "CUSTOM DELUXE CONDO" project in which Section 8er' welfare dirt bags would refuse to live. That filthy stank bag collection, a card board box example of L.A.'s finest contemporary boring architecture and cheap assed construction guaranteed to disintegrate in, say, ten years. Makes me proud to come home to the hood.
For two solid weeks these guys have been blasting holes in that rotten stucco. Massive plastic sheets have been tacked on to rickety ass rusted out four story high scaffolding. The ghastly sails with huge gaping holes have been blown to hell and back, creating this giant ghost sailing hulk that goes nowhere and makes an evil ghastly flapping sound. FLAP,FLAP FLAP GOES THE CHEAP PLASTIC SHEETS, DAY AND NIGHT, SET OFF BY EVEN THE GENTLEST OF BREEZES. Hordes of giant pre-historic flightless birds with giant wing spans didn't make as much as this gaggling flailing noise.
Parking my H-2 is like a joke. There is none. All curb side is gone by 7:30 A.M. When I leave in the A.M., beat up '82 Honda Civics loaded with six or seven ESS-AA's sculk past, ESS-AA's by the dozen looking to scarf up my curbside spot. Tuesdays are even worse, 8-12 "street cleaning" (that's a joke in itself, no city money to replace the street sweepers brushes, so the street cleaner guy goes around pretending to sweep because the brushes don't reach the pavement, but that's a different story). These ESS-AA's work on the MACHINE. They wear ear-muffs, company supplied. Where in the H--- are my MUFFS? HEY COMPANY I'M GOING DEAF HERE!!!!!!
The cacophony of noise starts at 7 A.M. and stops at 7P.M. I can't hear my phone Tones (PHONES don't ring any more, the only thing that rings are my ears). When I am lucky enough to answer the phone, I can't hear anything. I see the phone wall paper start flashing...I answer...."What, can't hear you, SPEAK UP, WHA, HUH, WHA, WAIT I'LL GO INTO THE BATHROOM ON THE OTHER SIDE OF MY CONDO SO I CAN HEAR YOU. HOLD ON. WHAT....DO I WANT TO SUBSCRIBE TO WHAT? ARE YOU KIDDING I WASTED ANSWERING THIS THING FOR A JUNK CALL....NO, IT'S A GOOD TIME....SURE I'LL BUY MORE CABLE T.V. CHANNELS.....I CAN'T HEAR THE GOD D____ED THING....I'LL JUST WATCH IT WITH THE SOUND TURNED OFF.....YOU IDIOT CAN'T YOU HEAR ALL THAT NOISE.....THIS IS NOT A GOOD TIME....YOU STUPID S....OF A B..... click.
Back on topic, I read exactly one new page, not counting the five pre-read pages. ONE STINKING STUPID PAGE. My cats, who have spent last few days outside, are going deaf. I call them to come in and they just sit there looking at me......Like what, huuh....meow..what?
I don't know if I'm going to make it here in COMPACT LAND AT THE BEACH very much longer. This place is beginning to make the Antelope Valley look good. At least the sound of the wind there is real wind.
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Monday, April 12, 2010
DUM, DEE,DUM,DEE, DUM, DUM THINK POSITIVE THOUGHTS
I'M RELAXING IN MY RECLINER, THAT'S A POSITIVE THING (+). The recliner is a little bit on the small side, that's a negative thing (-), but for the past four years I've had no recliner, and now I have one, that's a positve thing. Two positives, one negative, positives win.
Good, I'm thinking positively.
I'm in my recliner as I'm writing this and I look out,and can barely see out of my dirty, sandy, little french door window panes , a negative thing (-), and I see puddles of water, from last nights rain storm, on my dirty sandy deck. The water is puddled because the lame ass builder didn't build the deck properly, that's a negative thing (-). Two negatives in squence. Hmmm, according to Algebra 1, two negatives added together equal a positive. Let's see if I can make a positive thought here. (-)Dirty sandy windows + (-)equally dirty sandy water puddly deck equals (=) (-) a dirty sandy puddly mess that someone is going to have to clean up. That doesn't seem very positive.
Uh-oh, I'm slipping to negative thinking again.
Of course, I didn't do very well in Algebra, but this two negatives equal a positive thing doesn't seem very logical
Let me look at this problem of two negatives equal a positive in a different light. Let's say I'm happily walking down the street on beautiful spring day and a little hundred pound banger comes up to and flashes his piece and steals my wallet. That's a negative (-). He then takes my c.c.'s and runs up some serious charges on them. That's a negative (-). He didn't shoot me or stab me. That's a positive (+). He ruined my credit (-). I don't have theft protection on the c.c.'s.
That's a negative (-). Four negatives (-) + one positive (+) equals (=) three negative (-) in my book. So where 's the positive? Because of the slimy little banger, I'm screwed financially and I'm alive to live like a bum. How's that add up to a positive?
I always knew algebra sucks.
I'm going to sit back and relax (+), turn on my wall mounted 47" Sony HD LCD (+), kick back (+), watch the tube (+), drink some Napa Valley Cab. (+) and not think at all (+).
All positive stuff.
DUM, DEE, DUM, DEE, DUM
I always knew Algebra sucked.
Good, I'm thinking positively.
I'm in my recliner as I'm writing this and I look out,and can barely see out of my dirty, sandy, little french door window panes , a negative thing (-), and I see puddles of water, from last nights rain storm, on my dirty sandy deck. The water is puddled because the lame ass builder didn't build the deck properly, that's a negative thing (-). Two negatives in squence. Hmmm, according to Algebra 1, two negatives added together equal a positive. Let's see if I can make a positive thought here. (-)Dirty sandy windows + (-)equally dirty sandy water puddly deck equals (=) (-) a dirty sandy puddly mess that someone is going to have to clean up. That doesn't seem very positive.
Uh-oh, I'm slipping to negative thinking again.
Of course, I didn't do very well in Algebra, but this two negatives equal a positive thing doesn't seem very logical
Let me look at this problem of two negatives equal a positive in a different light. Let's say I'm happily walking down the street on beautiful spring day and a little hundred pound banger comes up to and flashes his piece and steals my wallet. That's a negative (-). He then takes my c.c.'s and runs up some serious charges on them. That's a negative (-). He didn't shoot me or stab me. That's a positive (+). He ruined my credit (-). I don't have theft protection on the c.c.'s.
That's a negative (-). Four negatives (-) + one positive (+) equals (=) three negative (-) in my book. So where 's the positive? Because of the slimy little banger, I'm screwed financially and I'm alive to live like a bum. How's that add up to a positive?
I always knew algebra sucks.
I'm going to sit back and relax (+), turn on my wall mounted 47" Sony HD LCD (+), kick back (+), watch the tube (+), drink some Napa Valley Cab. (+) and not think at all (+).
All positive stuff.
DUM, DEE, DUM, DEE, DUM
I always knew Algebra sucked.
Thursday, April 8, 2010
BLOG,, BLOG, MOTHER BLOGGING BLOGGER
"Blog blog blog, bloggitty blog blog", and then he said "I'll be blogged to hell and blog". To which I responded," you big piece of blog, I'll blog your head until you blog to death". He smacked me in the nose and I started blogging all over the place. We blogged until we could n't blog anymore.
It was a good thing because the Blogging Poh-leece came upon us and almost took us to the blogging jail. I could see me getting blogged by all the blogging criminals in the blogging hell hole.
It's a good thing I'm a mother blogging blogger because if you aren't a blogger then you are a wimp ass. Us bloggers look for little wimp ass non bloggers to whomp blog on. I'm a born again gang blogging blogger. Stay out of my way or I'll kick your non-blogging blog butt.
Yeah, I know my blogs have been on the down low, but I'm back in a full blog frame of mind. Stand back you blogging blog blogs, get ready to roll with the HELLS BLOG-ELS. Gonna get some action, gonna get some blog. Gonna put on my Blogging Colors, gonna drink some JACK-Blog, smoke some Blogging Bud. Gonna Party, Marty.
Blogging's my name, Bloggin's my game.
Ram Appache Blogging machine
It was a good thing because the Blogging Poh-leece came upon us and almost took us to the blogging jail. I could see me getting blogged by all the blogging criminals in the blogging hell hole.
It's a good thing I'm a mother blogging blogger because if you aren't a blogger then you are a wimp ass. Us bloggers look for little wimp ass non bloggers to whomp blog on. I'm a born again gang blogging blogger. Stay out of my way or I'll kick your non-blogging blog butt.
Yeah, I know my blogs have been on the down low, but I'm back in a full blog frame of mind. Stand back you blogging blog blogs, get ready to roll with the HELLS BLOG-ELS. Gonna get some action, gonna get some blog. Gonna put on my Blogging Colors, gonna drink some JACK-Blog, smoke some Blogging Bud. Gonna Party, Marty.
Blogging's my name, Bloggin's my game.
Ram Appache Blogging machine
Wednesday, December 16, 2009
BAH-HUMBUG, IT'S THIEF--MAS-- EVE TIME
HO, HO, HO SMASHING CAR WINDOWS WE WILL GO!!!!
MERRILY, MERRILY, MERRILY, A THIEVING WE WILL GO
CRUISE THE MALL, CRUISE THE LOT
SMASH THE WINDOW AND SEE WHAT WE GOT,
LAUGHING ALL THE WAY
OH WHAT FUN IT IS TO RIDE IN A HI- JACKED CHEVY STINGRAY!!!!!
(SUNG TO THE TUNE OF JINGLE BELLS)
Tis the time of hearty cheer and giving good will to all mankind. Time to forgive and be forgiven.
Time to lend a hand to those more unfortunate than ourselves. Time to be jolly and holy and reflective of all the good good things bestowed upon us from the year gone by, and anticipate the clean slate of the New Year before us. Tis the time of generosity and feasting on the bounty of this year's harvest.
BALDERDASH, HUMBUG AND SCREW YOU!!!!! TIS THE TIME FOR SCALAWAGS, THIEVES, SCOUNDRELS, THUGS AND BANDITS to prey on unsuspecting victims trying to live the "HOLIDAY SPIRIT". It's time for the extortionists, the frauds, the cheats and the crooks to descend upon the flock. It's their time to reap their bounty and slip back under the rocks from which they sprang.
We've been robbed. Our sanctuary invaded. Our auto molested by some unknown miscreant who had the audacity to defile our right to possession. Attacked in full public view ,in the middle of the day, in a busy parking structure, in the height of the Christmas shopping season and not a single blessed soul to witness the brazen attack on our personal property.
Security, what security. Private security protection is the cadence of the mall management. Where is the protection? The "security guards" are usually found standing in the secure confines of their booth smack in the middle of the mall strada where all the happy, cheerful and carefree shoppers congregate. Security forces cosily chatting it up and safe on the inside; criminals running amok, ransacking and smashing and stealing willynilly outside in the parking lot. Cool arrangement, nobody gets hurt EXCEPT FOR THE POOR CHEERFUL UNPROTECTED CUSTOMER!!!!!
BEWARE OF THIS FALSE SENSE OF GOODWILL AND HOLIDAY CHEER!!! DON'T LET YOUR GUARD DOWN!!!! EVIL LURKS AND IS LOOKING FOR CHINKS IN YOUR ARMOUR!!!! BE VIGILANT AND STAY ALERT!!! SAVE YOUR GOOD CHEER AS THE ENEMY HAS NONE!
MERRILY, MERRILY, MERRILY, A THIEVING WE WILL GO
CRUISE THE MALL, CRUISE THE LOT
SMASH THE WINDOW AND SEE WHAT WE GOT,
LAUGHING ALL THE WAY
OH WHAT FUN IT IS TO RIDE IN A HI- JACKED CHEVY STINGRAY!!!!!
(SUNG TO THE TUNE OF JINGLE BELLS)
Tis the time of hearty cheer and giving good will to all mankind. Time to forgive and be forgiven.
Time to lend a hand to those more unfortunate than ourselves. Time to be jolly and holy and reflective of all the good good things bestowed upon us from the year gone by, and anticipate the clean slate of the New Year before us. Tis the time of generosity and feasting on the bounty of this year's harvest.
BALDERDASH, HUMBUG AND SCREW YOU!!!!! TIS THE TIME FOR SCALAWAGS, THIEVES, SCOUNDRELS, THUGS AND BANDITS to prey on unsuspecting victims trying to live the "HOLIDAY SPIRIT". It's time for the extortionists, the frauds, the cheats and the crooks to descend upon the flock. It's their time to reap their bounty and slip back under the rocks from which they sprang.
We've been robbed. Our sanctuary invaded. Our auto molested by some unknown miscreant who had the audacity to defile our right to possession. Attacked in full public view ,in the middle of the day, in a busy parking structure, in the height of the Christmas shopping season and not a single blessed soul to witness the brazen attack on our personal property.
Security, what security. Private security protection is the cadence of the mall management. Where is the protection? The "security guards" are usually found standing in the secure confines of their booth smack in the middle of the mall strada where all the happy, cheerful and carefree shoppers congregate. Security forces cosily chatting it up and safe on the inside; criminals running amok, ransacking and smashing and stealing willynilly outside in the parking lot. Cool arrangement, nobody gets hurt EXCEPT FOR THE POOR CHEERFUL UNPROTECTED CUSTOMER!!!!!
BEWARE OF THIS FALSE SENSE OF GOODWILL AND HOLIDAY CHEER!!! DON'T LET YOUR GUARD DOWN!!!! EVIL LURKS AND IS LOOKING FOR CHINKS IN YOUR ARMOUR!!!! BE VIGILANT AND STAY ALERT!!! SAVE YOUR GOOD CHEER AS THE ENEMY HAS NONE!
Sunday, November 29, 2009
TIME OUT; TIME OUT; UP YOURS BRUINS!!!!
54 SECONDS LEFT TO IN REGULATION TIME:
SCORE USC 21 POOR LITTLE BRUINS 7.
"TIME OUT" SHOUTS GUTTSY LITTLE UCLA COACH NEUHEISAL(?), "TIME OUT", WE WANT THE BALL BACK".
"OK", WE'LL GIVE YOU THE BALL", USC COACH CARROLL SAYS.
NEXT PLAY: BAM. SLAM , 50 YARD USC PASS : TOUCHDOWN: SCORE USC 28- FUCLA 7.
"YOU WANT THE BALL, HERE'S THE BALL D-BAGS." "STICK IT WHERE THE SUN DOESN'T SHINE".
"HEY, THAT'S NOT FAIR", CRY THE GUTTSY LIL' BRUINS. "YOU ARE NOT PLAYING FAIR", CRY THE UPPITY LITTLE CRY BABIES. "YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO TAKE A KNEE!!!" "PILING IT ON", "RUNNING UP THE SCORE", " IT'S NOT FAIR, IT'S NOT FAIR".
WAAAH, WAAAH, WAAAAH. "LET'S FIGHT, WE'RE SO MAAAAD"; WAAAH, WAAAHH, CRY THE LITTLE TEDDIES FROM WESTWOOD.
USC plays in the ghetto. Sportsmanship, shortsmanship, you wanna play with us, we are gonna mess wit you, fool. USC'S coach is in the PROJECTS in South Central at mid night in a 1985 Corrolla with the Bangers, talking it up with the BROS.
I see BABY BEAR COACH in a Westwood donut shop ordering CROISSANTS and talking all YUPPIE crap to the Westside "intellectuals" with their double parked PRIUSES; acting all cool and preppie and snobby, and P.C., and looking down their book smart, fat assed noses at the rest of us peons.
"We won't forget this," blabber the POWDER BABY BLUES.
TROJANS DON'T GET EVEN, we just keep beating the crap out of you year in and year out. This season is a bit of a disappointment. How many teams would love to be 8-3 right now? Notre Dame? Fat ass Weisal(?) is about to be canned, along with his $40 MILLION. HOW MANY MORE YEARS ARE THEY GOING TO GIVE NEUHEISAL(?), one, two? How many more excuses are we going to hear? Poor UCLA: "no recruits, no depth, no talent, last coach screwed us (personally, I thought Coach Dorrel was a good coach and decent human being)".
EXCUSES, EXCUSES. MAN-UP GUTSY BRUINS. YOU STINK AND ALWAYS WILL. OCCASIONALLY YOU MIGHT GET LUCKY AND FLUKE OUT A WIN AGAINST US TROJANS, BUT:
LOS ANGELES ALWAYS WAS AND ALWAYS WILL BE:
TROJAN TOWN!!!!!
DON'T EVER FORGET IT!!!!!!!!
SCORE USC 21 POOR LITTLE BRUINS 7.
"TIME OUT" SHOUTS GUTTSY LITTLE UCLA COACH NEUHEISAL(?), "TIME OUT", WE WANT THE BALL BACK".
"OK", WE'LL GIVE YOU THE BALL", USC COACH CARROLL SAYS.
NEXT PLAY: BAM. SLAM , 50 YARD USC PASS : TOUCHDOWN: SCORE USC 28- FUCLA 7.
"YOU WANT THE BALL, HERE'S THE BALL D-BAGS." "STICK IT WHERE THE SUN DOESN'T SHINE".
"HEY, THAT'S NOT FAIR", CRY THE GUTTSY LIL' BRUINS. "YOU ARE NOT PLAYING FAIR", CRY THE UPPITY LITTLE CRY BABIES. "YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO TAKE A KNEE!!!" "PILING IT ON", "RUNNING UP THE SCORE", " IT'S NOT FAIR, IT'S NOT FAIR".
WAAAH, WAAAH, WAAAAH. "LET'S FIGHT, WE'RE SO MAAAAD"; WAAAH, WAAAHH, CRY THE LITTLE TEDDIES FROM WESTWOOD.
USC plays in the ghetto. Sportsmanship, shortsmanship, you wanna play with us, we are gonna mess wit you, fool. USC'S coach is in the PROJECTS in South Central at mid night in a 1985 Corrolla with the Bangers, talking it up with the BROS.
I see BABY BEAR COACH in a Westwood donut shop ordering CROISSANTS and talking all YUPPIE crap to the Westside "intellectuals" with their double parked PRIUSES; acting all cool and preppie and snobby, and P.C., and looking down their book smart, fat assed noses at the rest of us peons.
"We won't forget this," blabber the POWDER BABY BLUES.
TROJANS DON'T GET EVEN, we just keep beating the crap out of you year in and year out. This season is a bit of a disappointment. How many teams would love to be 8-3 right now? Notre Dame? Fat ass Weisal(?) is about to be canned, along with his $40 MILLION. HOW MANY MORE YEARS ARE THEY GOING TO GIVE NEUHEISAL(?), one, two? How many more excuses are we going to hear? Poor UCLA: "no recruits, no depth, no talent, last coach screwed us (personally, I thought Coach Dorrel was a good coach and decent human being)".
EXCUSES, EXCUSES. MAN-UP GUTSY BRUINS. YOU STINK AND ALWAYS WILL. OCCASIONALLY YOU MIGHT GET LUCKY AND FLUKE OUT A WIN AGAINST US TROJANS, BUT:
LOS ANGELES ALWAYS WAS AND ALWAYS WILL BE:
TROJAN TOWN!!!!!
DON'T EVER FORGET IT!!!!!!!!
Sunday, November 15, 2009
HELP ME, I'M TRAPPED IN BIZZARRO WORLD!!!!!
Up is down, cold is hot, night is day, turkey loaf (yeeeech, uuuugh, aaaaagggghhhh)is meat loaf , water is beer (not a bad thing!), Stanford plays smash ball football, USC plays pattycake!!!! I've been transported by evil alien beings to the mothership. I've been filled and drilled, electro shocked, and LSD drugged. The universe is convulsing. "No Beat" Pete is getting creamed. My heroic boys in cardinal and gold are zombie retrofits. Human shells filled with green and oozing crud. Lifeless relics simulating Trojan footballers. Get me out of this terrible hallucination.
Alien demons scheming to conquer our universe. Perverse, horrible creatures salivating at the demise of our very existence. These creatures want to EAT us!!!!!
Help me, help me escape this nightmare. STANFORD 55--- usc 21. The scoreboard screamed at me. STAAAANNNFOOOOORRRRD 55-55-5555555555. aaaaghhh, THE DEMONS KNOW MY WEAKNESS. HOW COULD THEY KNOW I HATE THE STANFORD "TREES" (formerly Indians, but with P.C. they just had to change) WITH A PASSION? Stanford, arrogant, spiteful, smarter than ever body else, wimpy ass, nerd wanna Be's (Cal Tech has the nerd title of USA), playing smash ball and winning against the mighty Trojan warriors of USC. Put me in the straight jacket, padded cell now. The aliens won.
Life used to be so simple. Easy rules of life: Day of home USC game: 1). Tailgate 2). Drink beer or equivalent (not white wine, which is for wimps) 3). go to game and gloat after one sided USC victory. Uncomplicated, easy, expected, win in November, win at home . Now, Day of home game: 1). assemble nervously for tailgate, most people arrive later now because of lost interest, they only come to see winners 2). Slug down a couple of wimpy ass mamosas 3) go to game, leave empty stadium humiliated after game because fair weather fans give up and leave after Trojans are down by seven(7). 4). get wised ass messages from smirking anit-USC "friends" who went to second rate schools 5). Next day read pessimistic articles about the fall of Trojans in liberal assed Sunday L.A.. Times.
Pete, please get me out of this night mare. I don't do out of body experiences very well. I'm not comfortable. I don't do losing very good at all. My psyche needs to be placated with winning and not whining. I need to be able to eat my pre-game burgers and dogs knowing that when I enter that hallowed place, the Coliseum, the MIGHTY TROJANS will take the sacred field and pummel their lowly opponents into submission. It should be the valiant warriors of USC going for two (2) after running up the score 48-0, and not some cocky loser from Palo Alto.
Pete, send these posers back to Netherland. Regain our sovereignty over outclassed, lowlife invaders seeking to steal our thunder. Once again make us proud. Thump your chest and resume your place as KING OF THE JUNGLE!!!!
WAKE ME UP!!!! WAKE ME UP!!!!
Alien demons scheming to conquer our universe. Perverse, horrible creatures salivating at the demise of our very existence. These creatures want to EAT us!!!!!
Help me, help me escape this nightmare. STANFORD 55--- usc 21. The scoreboard screamed at me. STAAAANNNFOOOOORRRRD 55-55-5555555555. aaaaghhh, THE DEMONS KNOW MY WEAKNESS. HOW COULD THEY KNOW I HATE THE STANFORD "TREES" (formerly Indians, but with P.C. they just had to change) WITH A PASSION? Stanford, arrogant, spiteful, smarter than ever body else, wimpy ass, nerd wanna Be's (Cal Tech has the nerd title of USA), playing smash ball and winning against the mighty Trojan warriors of USC. Put me in the straight jacket, padded cell now. The aliens won.
Life used to be so simple. Easy rules of life: Day of home USC game: 1). Tailgate 2). Drink beer or equivalent (not white wine, which is for wimps) 3). go to game and gloat after one sided USC victory. Uncomplicated, easy, expected, win in November, win at home . Now, Day of home game: 1). assemble nervously for tailgate, most people arrive later now because of lost interest, they only come to see winners 2). Slug down a couple of wimpy ass mamosas 3) go to game, leave empty stadium humiliated after game because fair weather fans give up and leave after Trojans are down by seven(7). 4). get wised ass messages from smirking anit-USC "friends" who went to second rate schools 5). Next day read pessimistic articles about the fall of Trojans in liberal assed Sunday L.A.. Times.
Pete, please get me out of this night mare. I don't do out of body experiences very well. I'm not comfortable. I don't do losing very good at all. My psyche needs to be placated with winning and not whining. I need to be able to eat my pre-game burgers and dogs knowing that when I enter that hallowed place, the Coliseum, the MIGHTY TROJANS will take the sacred field and pummel their lowly opponents into submission. It should be the valiant warriors of USC going for two (2) after running up the score 48-0, and not some cocky loser from Palo Alto.
Pete, send these posers back to Netherland. Regain our sovereignty over outclassed, lowlife invaders seeking to steal our thunder. Once again make us proud. Thump your chest and resume your place as KING OF THE JUNGLE!!!!
WAKE ME UP!!!! WAKE ME UP!!!!
Thursday, November 5, 2009
CABLE ME FREE!!!! WIRELESS BE ME!!!
FREEDOM!!! FREEDOM!!! FREEDOM CRIES IN AMERICA!!! CABLE BE FREE!!! COMPUTER BE ME!!!
Oh powerful router of mine. Loose me from my bondage chains and cubicle reins. Ungrip me from the wires' noose and let me roam my beautiful terrain. Surfing and roaming the univerise of unfeterred electronic seas and electrical highways from living room couch to bedroom slouch. I am FREE, FREE. No longer having to win the race to the little, smelly, information dungeon shared with three ungrateful felines and one "super" achieving real estate agent, I can take my own information box to whichever domicile I chose. I can, now, search and hunt from my dining room table or write and scribe from under the roof's gable. From ocean view porch or rear balcony with torch, I can be my own master and at my own pace. I can be the manipulator of the binary system, conqueror of the 0's and 1's, at my will, at my discretion.
TODAY IS EMMANCIPATION DAY. ADAM THE GENIUS OF ALL THINGS ELECTRONIC HAS RELEASED ME FROM CHAINS TO THE WALL SOCKET. ALL HAIL ADAM!!!! My powerful, code encrypted router was installed today, giving me the ability to have my own space. In fact, I am typing this from the comfort of my recliner. How far I've come in such a short time. Two weeks ago, I was living on a camping chair and having to compete for a computer with my daughter, Stephen, and my wife Sancy. Now, I can print and e-mail from anywhere I chose and not have to share. Not sharing is what I do best.
Sancy is happy because : no cables. Stephen is happy because she doesn't live with us anymore.
The cats are happy because they can use the litter box anytime and smell the joint up and not have to listen to me throwing up because of their putrid, gagging , ass smell.
Things could'nt be finer with me in my recliner.
Gotta go. I'm going to print something from here to there. No wires, kind of amazing, huh?
Oh powerful router of mine. Loose me from my bondage chains and cubicle reins. Ungrip me from the wires' noose and let me roam my beautiful terrain. Surfing and roaming the univerise of unfeterred electronic seas and electrical highways from living room couch to bedroom slouch. I am FREE, FREE. No longer having to win the race to the little, smelly, information dungeon shared with three ungrateful felines and one "super" achieving real estate agent, I can take my own information box to whichever domicile I chose. I can, now, search and hunt from my dining room table or write and scribe from under the roof's gable. From ocean view porch or rear balcony with torch, I can be my own master and at my own pace. I can be the manipulator of the binary system, conqueror of the 0's and 1's, at my will, at my discretion.
TODAY IS EMMANCIPATION DAY. ADAM THE GENIUS OF ALL THINGS ELECTRONIC HAS RELEASED ME FROM CHAINS TO THE WALL SOCKET. ALL HAIL ADAM!!!! My powerful, code encrypted router was installed today, giving me the ability to have my own space. In fact, I am typing this from the comfort of my recliner. How far I've come in such a short time. Two weeks ago, I was living on a camping chair and having to compete for a computer with my daughter, Stephen, and my wife Sancy. Now, I can print and e-mail from anywhere I chose and not have to share. Not sharing is what I do best.
Sancy is happy because : no cables. Stephen is happy because she doesn't live with us anymore.
The cats are happy because they can use the litter box anytime and smell the joint up and not have to listen to me throwing up because of their putrid, gagging , ass smell.
Things could'nt be finer with me in my recliner.
Gotta go. I'm going to print something from here to there. No wires, kind of amazing, huh?
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